Office of the Governor-General of the Presidency of Fort William

  "Lord Hastings, the circumstances in which the English East India Company finds itself are deplorable. Trading rights are few and rights over encampments fewer. You are a virtual prisoner here, Sire."

  "You are uttering the truth, young man. Practically speaking, I do not run Fort William; I'm imprisoned inside it. I have neither control over the quarters of our recruits nor a say in matters such as clothing, rationing and funding. Such matters have historically been under the scrutiny of Indians ever since we set foot on this soil during the beginning of the 16th century."

  The attendant poured steaming hot tea into the porcelain cup on the wooden table.

  "I am sure you are aware of international developments, Sire,"

  "Yes, my boy. The treasonous rebels have taken to outright fighting in the forests and the hills. Darn those lowly, peasant-like Americans! Such insolence towards the Crown!"

  "Sire, you must also take into account the precarious situation of Great Britain in Europe and Asian geopolitics. France dominates continental Europe and North America. Its presence threatens whatever colonies we possess there,"

  "I know that, my boy. The French dominate India as well! Look at the Kingdom of Madras! Look at the Southern Gupta Empire! The French are everywhere!"

  "Sire, I have received news from confidential sources that insinuate a possible scramble for acquiring colonies in South Asia in lieu of the territories lost in the Americas and the waning influence in. continental Europe."

  The British general took a short sip and sighed deeply.

  "Astute, but do we have the resources to mount and invasion of such unfriendly and unknown terrains? The disastrous war has ruined our empire's finances and has destabilized British polity; as far as I remember, Jonathan has informed me of an ongoing armed revolt in the Scottish lands!"

  He continued:

  "Even if we somehow acquire the resources, colonizing such vasta territories will be a logistical and economic nightmare! What makes you think that the indigenous population would not be motivated to take up arms against their occupiers and unify under one banner to oppose foreign rule, given that their occupiers are militarily weak and have suffered tremendous losses just a few decades ago?"

  "Our predecessors had conjectured that the fall of the Mogul Empire would furnish us an opportunity to grab the Indian market and dominate Indian politics. We had been moderately successful at playing one kingdom against the other, evident in the special privileges the Bengalee governors gave us. Indians are a gullible and selfish race, my boy. They never realize when they are in danger and only seek niceties for themselves; history will bear testimony to the failure of Indians in protecting their fatherland―"

  "Pardon me, sire; I have something important to tell you."

  "I assume it concerns my protection?"

  The attendant smiled.

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  "No, lord. You have some eminent visitors."

  Hastings was amused and looked towards the iron railings that ran through the windows, if at all they could be referred to as one. He was surprised to see several lanterns hanging in air and sharp-eyed pokes of spears that were glistening in the light of the lanterns.

  "Are they visitors or are they coming to arrest me?"

  "Worry not, sir. Huzoor, tashreef layiye*."

  A bearded man in his early fifties was ushered into the room. Hastings recognized him in the light of the hanging lamps, and was startled.

  "Firmaandar Sahib! "

  "Lord Hastings, the Governor has come to discuss with you the rights of the British in the daily affairs of Fort William."

  The attendant exchanged a few glances with the bearded man, and continued:

  "He says that he realizes the problems the British East India Company faces in the field of trading and commercial rights. He acknowledges the dire global situation of the British Empire and is willing to assist in assuaging their plight."

  "Tell him that I'm humbled to have heard such a pleasant news. Did His Majesty decree as such?"

  The attendant replied in the affirmative.

  "Then what rights have we?"

  "The right to more effective control over the daily affairs of Fort William, the right to maintain a private militia and the right to free movement within the subah of Bengal."

  Hastings was dumbfounded. No, he wasn't convinced that this was a display of generosity. Great Britain wasn't the global superpower. The Kingdom of France was. A politically sound statesman would always favour strengthening ties with them, not some economically fragile empire teetering on the brink of collapse.

  Hastings concluded that this old man was either politically blind or strategically brilliant in a way he could not yet comprehend.

  Before he could say something, his attendant spoke.

  "However, there are some clear-cut demands. Although you will face minimal interference in running your military encampment, you will have to report all events on a weekly basis. Under no circumstances shall you leave the subah of Bengal without prior permission of the governor; you shall be accompanied by a guard of hundred men to ensure your safety."

  The bearded man spoke in Persian. Hastings had been learning the language during his stay in India. Despite the downfall of the Mughals, Persian remained the lingua franca of the northern and eastern half of the Indian subcontinent. Regional languages had been gaining ground in recent decades, owing to which a common language was necessary for communication and administration purposes. The Gupta Emperor considered keeping Sanskrit as the lingua franca, but practical considerations compelled him to adopt Persian, although the nobility used Hindustani and Bengali amongst themselves for day-to-day conversations.

  "Hastings Sahib, may I acquaint you with something confidential?"

  "Yes, firmaandar sahib."

  "The incumbent emperor has not sanctioned these measures."

  "WHAT? HAVE YOU BEEN MAKING A FOOL OUT OF ME ALL THIS WHILE?!"

  "No."

  "THEN WHAT?!"

  "Your manners are really disappointing, Hastings Sahib. You are too quickly unnerved. "

  "Please stop playing around, Mr. Governor."

  "Okay; I would not want to torment you. Lord Hastings, what I meant to say was that this decree would become legal as soon as the incumbent emperor vacates the throne."

  "Which means that I'll have to wait until he dies. And I don't see him dying until the last decade of this century."

  The bearded man smiled.

  "I never said that he would die a natural death."

  Hastings, perturbed, scanned the mysterious face in front of him. The man, amused, folded his hands in a quick namaste and signalled his train to take its leave. He was ushered out of the compartment.

  It was dark again and silence prevailed.

  God's ways are mysterious, thought Hastings.

  *****************************************

  Office of the French Governor of the Principality of Chandernagore.

  "êtes-vous au courant de l'évolution récente de la politique Indienne, monsieur Richelieu?"

  "Oui."

  "Ne voyez-vous pas cela comme une opportunité en or?"

  "Oui. L'Inde est la terre de l'or.

  La terre est abondante;

  L'air, chaud et agréable;

  Le peuple, raffiné, cultivé et industrieux;

  Que désire-t-on d'autre?"

  "Oui. Ce que Dieu a béni avec l'abondance appartient aux Fran?ais."

  Richelieu nodded. The Governor may arrive at any moment, thought he.