Monsoon Mists (4 page)

They worked through the night and by the following afternoon they were done.

‘The replica would fool most people, wouldn’t you say?’ Jamie asked with satisfaction. ‘But there are still subtle differences to help me prove it’s a fake, if necessary.’

Akash and his brother Sanjiv both nodded. The three of them were in the workshop, where Sanjiv had just put the finishing touches to the gold mount and secured the feathers.

‘The main thing that could give it away is the diamond,’ Akash muttered. ‘We managed to copy the inscription on the sapphire perfectly, apart from the one symbol you said to leave out on purpose.’

‘Yes, but how many people can tell the difference between a red diamond and a ruby? Besides, we mustn’t let anyone get close enough to check. And no one knows, apart from ourselves, that there are now two talismans, so they won’t even think to look. Why would they?’

Sanjiv held out his hand for the real one. ‘Don’t worry, brother, I will deliver it to Jamie in Surat. I can take care of myself and I’ll be careful.’

They had decided that Sanjiv would leave a day or two after Jamie, once Meera and the children had been returned safely. He was to go overland, travelling in the guise of a snake charmer. ‘I’ve always loved snakes,’ he’d said, ‘and I doubt anyone would willingly stick their hand into a snake’s basket to check for valuables. It will be the perfect hiding place.’

Jamie was to go by sea, boarding an English ship bound for Surat to sail around the Indian coast. ‘Excellent. Akash, you must watch and make sure Sanjiv isn’t followed. Now please tell me again how I am to find the contact in Surat in order to hand this over.’

Akash obliged, but his instructions were complicated. ‘The man wouldn’t give me a name. He said you have to go round to all the gem traders and ask a specific question. Start by saying that the weather has been very unpredictable lately, then the exact phrase “I wonder if the monsoon will bring mists this year?” The man expecting you will reply “Oh, yes, and the mists hide everything”. Have you memorised that?’

Jamie nodded. ‘Yes, every word.’ He turned to Sanjiv. ‘I’ll see you in Surat. I will hire a house near the English Factory and you can ask for me there. Seek me out at night and we’ll confer. We need to be on our guard. They may still hope to trick us somehow – perhaps they’ll need scapegoats to throw the Rajah’s
men off the scent? – so keep your eyes and ears open.’

‘Will do.’ Sanjiv nodded, a determined set to his mouth, which reassured Jamie. He hadn’t really wanted to involve anyone else in this venture, but he couldn’t see any other way to make the ruse work.

‘I’ll try to delay handing over the talisman until you bring me word, Sanjiv, that the thieves have returned Meera and the little ones, safe and sound.’

‘Good.’

‘Now all we have to do is wait for the man to arrive so we can tell him I’m the courier,’ Jamie said.

‘What if he’s been watching the house and asks about Sanjiv?’ Akash wanted to know.

Jamie shrugged. ‘Just say you called him over to ask his advice, but that I convinced the two of you to let me be the one to go.’

‘I really shouldn’t allow either of you to do this.’ Akash bit his lip, clearly worried. ‘I ought to go myself.’

‘You can’t. You have a family, people depending on you.’ Jamie put a hand on Akash’s shoulder. ‘Sanjiv and I don’t, and anyway we’ll be fine.’

‘If you say so.’

Jamie nodded, but he wasn’t quite as sanguine as he made out. What choice did he have though? This had to work.

Chapter Three

Nadhur, Central India – May 1759

The Rajah of Nadhur paced his opulent quarters, his gold embroidered coat flaring around him with every step and fanning out in an arc each time he turned to retrace his path. He was oblivious to the beauty that surrounded him. Exquisitely painted walls and ceilings, ornately carved pillars and a shining marble floor were all ignored. He should have been a happy man, since he’d recently been given leave to marry Indira, the only daughter of a rich
nawab
from a province in the north-west. A girl so lovely that his rivals would be green with envy, even had she not brought him a small fortune along with the territory as her marriage portion. But he wasn’t particularly pleased today and didn’t bother with any of the usual pleasantries.

‘The sacred talisman is gone, Bijal!’ he exclaimed.

The Grand Vizier hid a smile. It wouldn’t do to show any joy at his master’s misfortune. Not yet anyway.
He’d been summoned with an urgency that made him half run along the corridors, but at forty he wasn’t as fit as he’d once been and had arrived panting and overheated. He stared at his master, feigning consternation while trying to get his breathing under control. ‘Really, Highness? Are you sure?’

‘Of course I’m sure! I’ve looked everywhere and besides, I know exactly where I put it last time I used it. It’s not there, I tell you.’

Bijal adopted his most serious expression and tried to look sympathetic at the same time. ‘That is indeed unfortunate.’

The Rajah continued to pace. ‘I don’t understand how it could have just disappeared,’ he complained. He stopped his perambulations long enough to gesture angrily at his Grand Vizier. ‘No one seems to have seen the thief enter my chambers, and the guards are outside day and night. How? How, I ask you?’

Bijal shrugged, somewhat defensively. ‘I will, of course, interrogate everyone, Highness. We should have an answer very soon. Perhaps one of your servants has merely taken it away for cleaning?’

‘No one touches it without my permission, you know that,’ the Rajah virtually snarled at him.

‘Have you asked your half-brother, Highness?’

‘Dev? Why would I?’

‘He is, er … given to pranks, is he not? Or he may have decided to borrow it. There are only three people who are free to come and go at will into your private quarters – myself, your half-brother and Ravi, your most trusted servant. I sincerely hope you don’t suspect either of us …?’ He let the sentence hang, making his eyes large and guileless.

The Rajah
shook his head. ‘Of course not, but … Dev?’ His frown deepened. The half-brothers had never been close and of late the rift between them had opened into a veritable chasm. Bijal had fanned the flames on occasion, but for the most part, this wasn’t necessary. Dev, being younger, was jealous of his brother’s position, power and possessions. Since the announcement of the forthcoming nuptials, things had been worse than usual. Dev must have realised that his chances of ever inheriting his brother’s domains would be very slim once the lovely Indira began to produce offspring.

‘I heard only yesterday that he has been spending lavishly,’ Bijal said, his voice tinged with fake regret. He shook his head. ‘The young live for the moment, don’t they? But where are his riches coming from, I wonder?’

Dev was given a generous allowance, but frequently overspent. It was yet another sore point, but it helped to cast suspicion on the half-brother now.

‘You’re not suggesting …?’

Bijal held up his hands. ‘I’m not suggesting anything, Highness, merely stating the facts. Could it be that young Dev has only borrowed the talisman temporarily until he is in funds again? Perhaps it is being held as surety?’

‘That would be outrageous! He’d never dare.’

‘No, you’re right. That is surely a step too far even for a beloved brother.’ Which Dev most certainly was not. Bijal kept another smile at bay. ‘In that case, the talisman must indeed have been stolen and, if so, I would hazard a guess it’s already far away. Any thief would surely sell it as soon as possible and not risk being caught in possession of such a thing.’

The Rajah strode off once more, turning angrily as he reached the farthest wall of the room. ‘So what you’re saying is that even if we catch the perpetrator, we’ll be no nearer to finding the actual jewel? That’s just not good enough! How can I marry without it? The talisman brings luck to my family and my people. To go through the wedding ceremony without it is simply in-con-ceivable.’ He punctured each syllable of the final word with a furious step. ‘It’s part of the ritual, you know that.’

Bijal bowed, his gaze lowered so as not to show his triumph.
I know.
Out loud he said, ‘I will do my best to find out what has happened to it. Leave it with me.’ With another bow, he left the room and heard the Rajah bellowing after him.

‘Your best had better be outstanding! I’m not marrying anyone without wearing the talisman of Nadhur. I’d be a laughing stock. It’s a symbol of my power, a good luck charm, imbued with magic to bring us fortune and happiness!’

Indeed it was. And, as Bijal well knew, holding a royal wedding without it would mean the most dreadful of bad luck – complete and utter disaster in fact.

Which was just as it should be in his opinion.

Chapter Four

Surat, India – June 1759

The journey went smoothly and Jamie had been pleased to observe that he was being followed. An Indian sailor joined the ship’s crew at the very last moment, and although Jamie pretended not to notice, he’d kept his eyes on the man throughout the trip. The crewman worked hard, but had managed to stay in Jamie’s vicinity more often than not. Again, Jamie ignored this, and acted as if he was the type of man who never even saw ordinary sailors but took their presence for granted. He hoped he’d fooled the spy.

At least Jamie knew what he looked like now. The man had an unmistakeable nose that curved like a
tulwar
sword and he knew he’d recognise him anywhere.

He and Akash had made much of Jamie’s departure, making sure anyone watching would see him and follow. As agreed, Sanjiv was to set off a few days later, when hopefully no one would notice his departure at all.

‘Don’t worry, I’ll check from a distance,’ Akash had promised. ‘If anyone so much as looks his way, I’ll warn Sanjiv. But I think all eyes will be on you.’

‘Let’s pray you’re right. If not …’

Akash nodded. They both knew what was at stake and what needed to be done. For Meera’s and the children’s sake, Akash would kill anyone who threatened to disrupt their plans. Hopefully such drastic measures wouldn’t prove necessary.

‘The man said your family would be returned as soon as I am safely on my way, didn’t he?’

‘Yes, so I can tell Sanjiv and he’ll let you know when you meet up.’

‘Good, because I’m not handing over either of the talismans unless I have to without being assured on that point.’

The city of Surat was situated in north-west India, in the province of Gujarat which had a rather marshy coastline full of tidal creeks. Surat itself was slightly inland, however, some six miles up the river Tapi. The entrance to this river was in the Gulf of Cambay where sandbars made navigating difficult. The river wasn’t much better – sandbanks were forming in many places and in one particular spot only a narrow and dangerous channel remained for boats to make their way through.

Larger ships anchored at the mouth of the Tapi and passengers continued upstream by barge. Jamie had come this way once before when he first arrived in India on a Swedish trading ship. He watched the landmarks that had been pointed out to him then by a fellow traveller. After some vegetation, in the form of bushes interspersed with tall trees, came a village.

‘That’s Domus,’ the man had said, ‘on the southern bank.’ And slightly further on, ‘There you have the imperial Mughal wharf, followed by another village called Omrah.’

The exotic scents of the Indian countryside carried across to them and Jamie closed his eyes for a moment to really savour them. He was so used to this now, he hardly took the time to register such things any more. And Sweden, with its crisp smells of pine and cool air, seemed a lifetime away. The heat and spices of India were his world now.

They passed another village called Athwa, some private wharves belonging to the richest of the city’s merchants, and finally that of the French
Compagnie des Indes
just before reaching the southern part of the city walls.

Surat lay in a curve of the river on a flat plain and was protected by a double semi-circle of walls – an inner one that surrounded the main town including a castle, and an outer one built around the suburbs. Jamie remembered that the inner wall was called the
sheherpanah
, which meant ‘the Safety of the City’, while the outer was named the
alampanah
, or ‘the Safety of the World’, which he found quaint. Both were built of bricks, at least ten foot high, and with numerous gates and fortified points.

The barge passed the castle and its moat, which was just inside the southernmost part of the inner wall, and moored near the
furza
, the customs house, next door. As he disembarked, Jamie saw the Imperial Mint just across the street from the
furza
and on the left was the
daria mahal
, where the harbour master resided. He knew the castle green, in front, was called the
maidan
and it was crammed, as always, with tents, people, animals and goods of every kind. Bullock carts jostled for space with merchants and their customers and the whole scene was one of chaos and noise that assaulted his senses. Chattering, laughter, music, shouting. The scents of humanity, cattle and spices almost overwhelmed him, while heat and dust enveloped him in a suffocating embrace. Even the wind, when it blew, was hot here, leaving him feeling as though he’d been blasted by the draught from an oven.

Jamie looked forward to exploring the city again at a later date, but first he had to pass through customs like everyone else. His trunk was searched and everything inside turned upside down, which annoyed him no end, but he kept his temper in check. When the customs officials searched him, patting his pockets and feeling all along his body, he said nothing. They wouldn’t find anything.
He’d made sure of that with various secure hiding places. One had to pay customs on anything imported or exported, usually something like two and a half to five and a half per cent. Jamie had no intention of paying such charges unless he had to.