In Dangerous Company: The Dorset Boy Book 4 Page 6

  “Would they really lock the Peshwa in his rooms if you showed up unexpectedly?” Marty asked.

  “If I claimed I was there to get his signature on a document they probably would. He would be suddenly indisposed or ill and unable to entertain visitors.”

  “Do the staff all wear uniform?”

  “Yes, they do. The palace has its own special livery.”

  Caroline came in and sat in a chair. Blaez followed her as Beth was asleep in the nursery.

  Arthur dug in his pocket and offered him a biscuit. Blaez gently took it out of his fingers without touching them.

  “Here is another contradiction.” Arthur said. “I have heard stories about this young fellow, about how much of a killer he is. But look at him!” Blaez had rolled on his back-inviting Arthur to scratch his tummy.

  “He is just protective of his pack,” Caroline observed and then smiled brightly and said. “I have some news. Apparently the Peshwa will host a ball at the end of September and Lord and Lady Candor will be invited.”

  “Will he really,” Arthur exclaimed, “and how do you know that?”

  “Lady Mansfield heard it from Mrs Fotherington, who was asked who to invite by the Peshwa’s private secretary. It will either be a celebration of his victory or an attempt to surround himself with allies after his defeat.”

  “Really. It seems I have been overlooking a valuable source of intelligence.” Arthur wryly observed.

  “Oh, you can just ask whenever you want to know what is going on.” Caroline offered with a smile.

  Ranjit looked up.

  “They will lock him in his rooms after that for sure.”

  “And that opens up a host of possibilities,” Marty smiled in satisfaction.

  The time came for them to leave for Pune. It wouldn’t be a long trip as Pune was around sixty miles Southwest of Bombay as the crow flies. They had a coach that Marty had bought two weeks before and had modified to suit their requirements. The team were dressed in new livery that Caroline had commissioned and rode as armed escorts. It had taken a bit of persuasion to get the boys to dress up, but once Marty had explained the plan, they had gone along with it.

  The livery had a distinct Naval theme. Navy-blue military style long tailed jackets with silver double-breasted buttons over white shirts, blue cravats and snug white riding breeches. Hessian boots shined to perfection and French style Kepi hats.

  If they were honest, they would have admitted they all looked rather smart. They all carried a musket, two saddle pistols, cutlasses and the usual hidden weaponry.

  On top of the coach were a pair of servants and a driver in simpler and more Indian livery than the escort, all armed with blunderbusses that were hidden under their seats. Inside with Marty and Caroline was Mary, the children’s nurse, and the two children.

  They took it easy and the horses walked rather than trotted so they only made forty miles the first day. They stopped in Lonavala in a house by the lake that was owned by a British Nabob.

  When they pulled up at the palace in Pune, they had already heard that the joint forces of the Peshwa and Scindia had been roundly thrashed by Holkar. Holkar was resting his troops prior to marching on Pune proper.

  Marty and Caroline allowed themselves to be guided into the palace and to their rooms. They were provided with servants but politely refused most of them saying that they preferred their own. They also insisted their escort was housed with them. They had timed their arrival to be around midday on the day of the ball, so they had half a day to settle in.

  Marty dressed that evening to impress. He wore a high collared, deep blue, short tailed jacket that had solid gold buttons and delicate gold embroidery around the collar and cuffs. A fancy white silk shirt with a white cravat held by a gold pin with a stunning blue white diamond at its head. His sash of rank was a lighter blue with gold edging and held the gold and diamond coat of arms given him by the prince regent, his Order of the Bath and a single, solid gold bar to represent his lieutenancy.

  Caroline was stunning in an emerald green silk ball gown that was cut low to show off her cleavage and clung to the figure that she had worked hard to get back after the birth of James. She wore a diamond tiara, diamond drop earrings and a necklace of diamonds with a huge emerald as the centrepiece which was matched by bracelets on her wrists. She carried a small handbag made of silver ringmail and wore a sash of matching blue with her diamond broach and a smaller Order of the Bath.

  When they were announced there was an audible sigh from the gathered worthies. They looked the part and they played it to the hilt. Royalty couldn’t have made a greater impression.

  They moved through the room towards the Peshwa to pay their respects, the crowd parted and there were murmured greetings, which were returned. Some of the ladies curtsied and fluttered their fans at Marty. Caroline noted those who were particularly brazen.

  They moved up to the Peshwa and the people who were talking with him immediately stood aside. He was a short man of only five feet two inches tall and of slight build. He had an impressive moustache and was dressed in a cloth of gold coat and trousers; his feet were encased in gold silk slippers. He was sat on a grand chair padded with cloth of gold covered cushions.

  “Your Highness,” Marty greeted him and bowed. Christine dipped a most elegant curtsey.

  “Lord and Lady Candor!” he greeted them, smiling. “A most impressive entrance. I think the world stopped for a moment, stunned by your beauty Lady Caroline.”

  “You are too gracious your Highness.” Caroline murmured.

  “I was sorry to hear of your setback.” Marty offered. “May I offer you a gift that may distract your Highness from your troubles and offer a modicum of comfort?”

  Marty held out a cunningly devised golden rod, inset with precious stones. It was in fact a cleverly designed puzzle. Marty had heard that the Peshwa had a fascination for such things.

  The little man’s face lit up in a beaming smile as he took the gift from Marty’s hand.

  They talked for a few minutes more and then Marty and Caroline made way for the next couple to be introduced.

  Marty noted that the Peshwa put his gift in his pocket rather than pass it to the servant that was hovering nearby. He smiled.

  The ball went the way many balls do, and they danced, socialized and networked as well as ate and drank. It came to an end at one in the morning when they retired to their rooms.

  At three AM the palace was silent and a pair of figures dressed in palace livery and carrying a tray of drinks walked through the corridors. They glided past sleeping servants who were stationed outside of guest’s doors and made their way to a part of the palace off limits to visitors.

  They walked past soldiers stationed in the corridors until they came to the door they were searching for. There were a pair of guards and the servants offered them the refreshments. The guards drank and then almost together slumped quietly to the floor. One of the servants knelt at the lock and inserted a pair of metal probes. Seconds later he quietly opened the door.

  The guards down the corridors saw two servants returning carrying a tray with empty glasses.

  The next morning at eight o’clock the palace was in uproar. The Peshwa was missing! The word was that his private rooms had been infiltrated and he had been spirited away through a window, down a rope and through the gardens.

  The guest’s rooms were checked but they found nothing. Search parties were sent out and they even had dogs tracking the scent of the Peshwa across the grounds and out into the countryside.

  Then they got word that Holkar was on the move, which prompted a general mobilisation, so Marty and Caroline gathered up their luggage and their people and left along with all the other guests.

  In the throne room Scindia fumed and raged. Not only had the Peshwa disappeared but Holkar was coming and he had nowhere to run.

  Once they had cleared the city limits of Pune and they were safely on the way to Bombay the coach stopped by a copse of trees.
They got out and Tom got in and removed a cleverly disguised section of the back seat. It revealed a hidden compartment just big enough to sit a single person comfortably.

  The Peshwa stepped out a little stiffly as he had been in there for around six hours. He looked around then grinned at Marty.

  “A most excellent plan Martin. Scindia’s dogs are all running in the opposite direction?”

  “Yes, our man will lead them a merry chase.”

  “Hiding a message inside the puzzle rod was very clever. I suppose my fascination for puzzle objects made it inevitable that I would find it.”

  Marty smiled and said.

  “It was a gamble, but the odds were good once I saw you put it into in your pocket.”

  Marty had the rod especially made at quite some expense. It was a genuine puzzle that had been dressed up with gold plate and coloured glass to make it look expensive. Marty had gambled that once the Peshwa saw what it really was he would twig that it was other than just an amusing gift.

  One of their escort moved over and bowed to the Peshwa.

  “Gupta you are a loyal and faithful servant and I thank you for helping me. You look good in the uniform of Lord Candor’s guards, but better in your own clothes,” the Peshwa said to him.

  Gupta bowed again and went to get changed. He had taken the place of Matai, who was laying the false trail, so the palace guards wouldn’t notice a change in their numbers. He had sacrificed his moustaches and had to wear makeup to lighten his skin, but as Marty had said during the planning, “to the guards our escort probably all look alike so we should get away with it.”

  They had something to drink and the Peshwa changed into European clothes for the rest of the journey.

  Newly confirmed Major General, Arthur Wellesley and Marty sat around a large table in Fort Bassein with Peshwa Baji Rao and General Lake. There was an ornate document on the table between them. From it hung the seals of the Governor General of India and the Peshwa of Maratha. Both men had signed it thus confirming the Bassein Accord, a treaty between the Maratha Empire and the British. It was the thirty first of December 1802.

  General Lake looked around the table.

  “History will note this day as one which saw the course of Indian British relations take a momentous step forward. However, history will not record the efforts of Martin and his people to achieve this. So, I want to voice our thanks and appreciation to him here and now.”

  Peshwa Baji Rao stood, stepped over to a side table and returned with an ornate chest that was around a foot by nine inches at the base and nine inches high.

  He placed it in front of Marty and said.

  “Please accept this as a token of my gratitude. Without your help I would be a prisoner of Holkar or more likely dead.” He opened the lid and inside on velvet cushions were two four-inch-long, exquisitely made golden tigers with ruby eyes and diamonds for claws. They were surrounded by seven large sapphires.

  “The Tigers represent you and Lady Caroline. If you look carefully you can see one is a male and the other female. The sapphires are for your men.”

  “You are more than generous, and I thank you for myself, my wife and my men.” Marty said sincerely as he examined the extremely fine work that had gone into making the tigers. They were priceless in his estimation.

  Chapter 9. Ceylon

  Marty and Caroline decided to return to Madras using one of their new ships. She was the second one built and was called The Bethany after their daughter. They had taken on a new captain, Phillip Tarrant, who had sailed into Bombay in a merchantman that had been heavily mauled by a storm in the Indian Ocean. The simple fact he had gotten the floating wreck into port at all spoke volumes about his seamanship. Added to that, he had also brought most of his crew and his cargo back intact as well which made him very attractive to Marty.

  Tarrant brought his crew and his first mate with him. They recruited some twenty new men and they were ready to go.

  As a cargo ship The Bethany actually made a comfortable yacht. They had fitted her out with temporary cabins which were very comfortable and could accommodate the entire team plus servants.

  Mary had her hands full with the two children. Two-year-old Bethany was full of mischief and would disappear on her adventures as soon as Mary took her eyes off her. Young James was demanding and seemed to be always hungry, which kept Caroline busy. Blaez was never far away from either of them.

  They sailed South from Bombay down the West coast of India past Goa, Mahé and Cochin and decided to spend a day or two in Ceylon.

  They sailed into the harbour of Colombo and the first thing they saw was the huge fort positioned on the entrance to the harbour. Then, as they slowly made their way into their holding ground, they could see that much of the land around the harbour was given over to commercial buildings where they could see all manner of goods being traded and manufactured.

  They spent the night onboard and first thing in the morning Marty went ashore to talk to the port authority about visiting the Governor.

  The harbour master turned out to be a Dutchman, which shouldn’t have been surprising as Ceylon was a former Dutch colony. Martyn van Boxtel was a naturally cheerful man with a round face and shining brown eyes. He did however express some concern about them coming ashore let alone visiting the Governor, who was in a temporary residence in Kandy to be closer to the King.

  “There is a quiet rebellion going on. There is still some resistance to British rule and Governor North has had to clamp down hard in some areas.”

  Marty explained to him that he had an ‘escort’ and that they were all experienced military men. Eventually Van Boxtel reluctantly agreed to find him a carriage and riding horses so that they could travel to Kandy.

  On returning to The Bethany, Marty gave instructions to the team to prepare for travel. He wanted them all armed with pistols and muskets as well as cutlasses.

  He changed into travel clothes and donned his weapons harness. Two double barrelled pistols, knife and hanger, stilettoes in forearm sheaths and his lace up boots with their hidden blade and lockpicks. He slung his Durs Egg carbine over his shoulder and its ammunition and powder in a bag to hang from the saddle.

  Caroline wore a simple dress with boots. She had her small pistols in pockets in the dress and had knives in both boots. When Marty raised an eyebrow at that she said something about what was good for the gander was good for the goose. He didn’t know about the third, small double-barrelled pistol she had strapped to her thigh.

  “Anyone would think we were going to war not for a visit to the governor.” Marty laughed as he looked over his party.

  They rowed ashore when the open landau style carriage and horses turned up on the dock. Van Boxtel looked impressed when they came ashore and efficiently organised themselves and the servants.

  Caroline, Mary and the children rode in the carriage with two servants and the luggage. The men all rode horses and they set out in formation with Marty, Blaez, Tom and John at the front and the Basques bringing up the rear.

  They rode out of Colombo and headed up the road, well track really, towards Kandy. They had been moving along nicely, as the dirt road was reasonably flat and only mildly rutted, when Franco rode up beside Marty and said.

  “We are being watched,” he inclined his head. “The hill to the west.”

  Marty casually looked around sweeping the horizon and spotted a figure squatting on the top of the hill. He was dressed in Indian clothes and had a long musket held upright beside him.

  “Got him. Drop back and keep an eye on him.”

  Marty dropped back beside the carriage and leaning over in the saddle he warned Caroline about their shadow. She surprised him when she informed him, smugly, that she had not only spotted that one but there had been another on a hill as they left Colombo.

  Marty went back to his position at the head of the column muttering about smart mouthed women.

  Their shadows did nothing more than just watched, moving from hill top
to hill top, so they stopped at the halfway point and set up their picnic for lunch. The men kept their guns close to hand and their eyes open.

  They packed up after an hour and started out again moving higher as the road made its way up into the hills. They became more alert as the terrain got rougher and more suitable for someone to set an ambush.

  The road skirted a hill with an almost sheer drop on the right and a wooded slope on their left. Marty heard Blaez growl and saw his hackles come up as they approached a corner, so held up his hand to signal everyone to stop. He unslung his carbine and that signalled the others to do likewise. There was a series of clicks as hammers were drawn back to half cock.

  Blaez had his attention fixed on the road ahead. He was focused, his eyes and ears ahead and his right foot raised. He growled again.

  Marty’s horse shifted, picking up on the tension. Marty dismounted and signalled to the others to wait. He walked slowly forward and Blaez kept pace when he suddenly lowered his shoulders and head, so they were level and raised his hackles. He looked exactly like a wolf.

  Marty stopped, pulled the hammer on his carbine back to full lock and checked the priming. Taking one quiet step at a time he and Blaez moved forward to the apex of the corner. As soon as he could see ahead without revealing himself, he knew what Blaez was warning him about. There was a tree across the road with half a dozen armed men behind it.

  He checked the forest to the side and couldn’t see anything but would put money on there being more men hidden in there.

  He walked back to his horse, the carriage and his men.

  “There is a roadblock with half a dozen men armed with muskets blocking the road. I would lay odds that there is at least another half dozen in the trees.”

  Antton looked around at the hills and then at the other Basques.

  “Looks just like home,” he grinned and said something to the others in Basque.

  They slipped off their horses and tying them to the back of the carriage, melted into the trees.