Arthur ignored the quaking chamberlain, who had dropped to his knees and buried his head in his hands as he muttered a string of appeals for mercy.

‘Tell him to dismiss these people. We must speak to him at once.’

Again the Nizam shouted and blustered, until Arthur sharply held up a hand to silence him. The Nizam shrank back from the sudden gesture before recovering his poise, folding his arms and glaring back defiantly. His guests, the dancers and the musicians watched in silence, hardly daring to move.

‘Tell him that he must do as I say, and that I speak on the direct authority of the Governor General. If he refuses, then the treaty with England is forfeit . . .’

As Kirkpatrick translated the Nizam stared at Arthur, his lips compressed into a thin line.Then there was silence and at last the Nizam’s gaze faltered. He swung round to his followers and shouted an instruction, clapping his hands to send them away as speedily as possible.The guests scrambled up from their cushions and joined the dancers and the musicians as they stumbled through the trees towards the entrance to the Nizam’s garden. As the last sounds of their departure faded away Arthur gestured towards the couches closest to the Nizam dais.

‘Ask him if we might sit at his side.’

The civility of the sudden request caught the Nizam off guard and he nodded and indicated that they should sit with a graceful sweep of his hand. Then, gathering up his robe, he sat on his couch and poised himself for a private audience with the two Englishmen. The chamberlain remained where he lay, crouched and quite still, trying his hardest to be forgotten. Arthur took a deep breath and began.

‘I have heard that the Nizam is considering going back on his agreement. Regardless of all previous treaties he may have made with representatives of the Company and England, he should be aware that the new Governor General is a man of his word. Which means he will do his utmost to guarantee the safety of the Nizam, whatever the cost to England in men, money or prestige. In return, the Governor General expects the Nizam to honour his side of the treaty with equal diligence.’ Arthur waited for this to be translated and fully digested before he continued. ‘Therefore, the Nizam will understand my frustration, as representative of the Governor General, when I learned that he had decided not to disarm the French battalions by the time specified in the treaty.’

The Nizam burst into a torrent of explanation which Kirkpatrick struggled to keep up with.

‘Sir, the gist of it is that we do not understand how delicate the situation has become in Hyderabad. He requests that we give him ten days to negotiate a peaceful disbanding of the battalions, and that your column remain encamped outside the city until then. He gives his word that he remains a loyal ally of England and that his soldiers still hold him in sufficient regard and affection to bend to his will. He also says that the concessions he 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.