made in the treaty were far greater than those demanded by French representatives who seek an alliance with Hyderabad.’
‘Is that so?’ Arthur steeled his expression. ‘Then tell him that if I even remotely suspect him of trying to cut a deal with the French, the treaty is forfeit and the four Company battalions camped outside Hyderabad, together with the two garrisoned within the city, will quit his kingdom and march back to Madras at first light tomorrow. And then he will have to deal with his French-officered battalions by himself. I know that those soldiers are verging on mutiny over the prospect of being disbanded. I imagine that without the Company battalions to protect him the Nizam’s reign might be ended within a matter of days, at the very most.’
The Nizam heard the translation with growing agitation, but before he could respond Arthur held up a hand. ‘If the Nizam is not willing to give the order for the disbanding of the French battalions, then it is my duty to handle the matter myself. If the Nizam attempts to interefere with this process in any way, then once I have finished dismantling the French battalions I will start to dismantle his kingdom.’
Kirkpatrick drew in a sharp breath and looked at his superior with a warning expression. But Arthur was adamant. This was a test of nerves. The Nizam’s had clearly failed him and now, for the first time, all the gambling instincts that Arthur had once possessed at Dublin Castle served him well. He knew that the stakes were high and had already calculated the risk of the plan he had formed in his mind. He had called the Nizam’s bluff. Of course, all that stood between Arthur and winning the round was several thousand soldiers under the command of men from a nation that had sworn to destroy England and all she stood for.
‘We’re leaving now. Just let the Nizam know that by this time tomorrow his difficulties will all be over.’
The Nizam muttered a reply as they rose to their feet, and Arthur turned to his subordinate for a translation.
‘And if they are not?’
Arthur smiled. ‘Then, more than likely, all three of us will be dead.’
Chapter 35
The streets were bathed in the fitful light of the moon as scattered shreds of cloud passed slowly across the night sky. Dark figures padded down the streets winding through the outskirts of Hyderabad. They moved quietly, having abandoned their boots a short distance from the city. They carried the minimum of equipment and the only sounds above the soft slap of their feet were the occasional whispered orders, passed from man to man.Arthur was leading the sepoy companies in person, since he could not trust any other officer with the task at hand. Kirkpatrick, who knew the route through the city well enough, even under the cloak of darkness, jogged along with the advance guard, a short distance ahead of Arthur. Both men had exchanged their military boots for soft-skinned shoes and were bareheaded, carrying only a brace of pistols and their swords. For Arthur’s plan to stand any chance of succeeding it was vital that the small column remained undetected until it reached its goal. The rest of the men from the Company battalions were out of sight just outside the city, waiting until the hour before dawn to enter Hyderabad.
The men of the advance guard stopped and knelt down. Arthur raised his hand to halt the rest of the column and went forward to squat beside Kirkpatrick.
‘Why have we stopped?’
‘We’re there, sir.’ Kirkpatrick pointed down the street ahead of them. A short distance away the street gave on to a large open space. Arthur realised this must be the vast parade ground that Kirkpatrick had described to him earlier. On the far side Arthur could see the low ramparts of the Nizam’s army camp.
‘Where’s the arsenal?’
‘You can’t see it from here, sir. It’s in a fortified bastion on the far corner of the camp, away from the city.’
‘And the water gate?’
‘At the end of a side street, not far from the square. We turn off here and join the street close to the parade ground.’
‘All right then, lead on.’
Kirkpatrick nodded, then turned to his men and whispered the order to move.They rose up like ghosts and advanced a little further down the street before turning into a narrow alley. Arthur marked the spot carefully and then went back to the rest of the men and waved them on. The alley wound down a small slope and the hot night air became even more humid as the rank smell of dung fires and sewage filled Arthur’s nostrils. They had nearly reached the small crossroads at the bottom of the slope when a door opened just ahead of Arthur and a man stepped into the street, shouting angrily as he spied the men moving through the shadows towards him. At that moment the moon cleared a thicker cloud and the alley was bathed in moonlight, revealing not only the number of men moving down the alley, but also their uniforms, and Arthur’s white skin.The man’s tirade was cut off abruptly, then he muttered some curse and dived back through the doorway.
‘Damn!’ Arthur growled and jumped after him, thrusting his weight against the door closing in his face. The door crashed inwards and he heard a grunt as the man inside fell back against the wall. Arthur drew out one of his pistols, holding it tightly by the muzzle. The man stumbled out from behind the door, clutching his hand to his nose, and Arthur swung the butt of his pistol down hard on his head. It connected with a soft thud and the man grunted with pain and then collapsed, out cold. There was a shrill call of panic from further within the house and Arthur glanced up and saw the dim shape of a woman watching him from an interior doorway. A child was clutching her leg.
‘Shhhh!’ Arthur raised the pistol and reversed the grip so the barrel was now pointed at the ceiling. He whispered to them in Hindoostani. ‘Not a word, or I’ll shoot. Understand?’
The woman nodded vigorously and backed away into the darkness, drawing her child after her. Arthur looked down for a moment at the man he had felled, then leaned over and shifted him into a more comfortable position on the floor. He closed the door as he stepped back into the alley. His heart was beating fast, the pounding in his ears making it hard to listen to the streets around him. There was no sound of any disturbance, no cry of alarm or challenge from the direction of the camp.
‘Christ, that was close,’ he muttered, wiping the perspiration from his brow. He eased the pistol back into his belt and waved his men forward again. Kirkpatrick had left a man at the junction to indicate the route to those who followed and Arthur and his column turned towards the camp. One of the advance guard whistled softly and the column halted at once, the men freezing as they hugged the shaded side of the alley.A short way off Arthur could see the ramparts looming above the crazy angles of the rooflines each side of the alley. The faint outline of a sentry crossed Arthur’s field of vision and he let out a sigh of relief as the man passed from sight.
The column eased forward again. Just ahead the alley widened out to accommodate a long trench, that had been covered over with slabs of stone where it passed under the alley which led up to a small, grated arch at the foot of the wall. A foul stench filled the air and Arthur wrinkled his nose as he glanced down at the stinking trickle of filth that ran along the bottom of the trench: the outflow from the main latrine block of the camp. Kirkpatrick and his men stole forward on either side of the trench until they reached the wall, and then carefully clambered down into the channel. A moment later the soft sounds of gentle scraping carried back up the alley.
Arthur and the sepoys remained silent and motionless as Kirkpatrick’s men worked away at the bars of the grille, loosening one after the other and placing them carefully at the base of the rampart. Work had to stop each time the sentry returned to this stretch of the wall. He crossed above the sewage outflow with a maddening measured tread, and as soon as the sounds of his boots faded away the work began again. It took far longer than Arthur had anticipated and he found himself glancing repeatedly at the skyline above the roofs of the city for the first sign of the coming dawn.
Eventually a dim shape climbed up over the side of the trench and trotted back towards Arthur.
‘Colonel
‘Here,’ Arthur responded softly. ‘Keep your voice down.’
‘A thousand pardons. Kirkpatrick
‘Very good. Tell him to let me know the instant the way is open.’
The sepoy nodded and hurried back towards the rampart. A short while later Kirkpatrick’s voice called out, as loudly as he dared, ‘All clear, sir.’
