Bhopal, inside the King's private chambers

  "Please come in, Rameswar Ji."

  "Most certainly, Rājan. Funnily enough, you don't seem to refer to me by my title anymore," quipped Bundela, as he parted the maroon curtains draped over the entrance and sauntered into the chamber.

  "There is no need for formalities here, Rameswar Ji."

  "Very well, Rajan. Laxman, come insi-"

  A female voice whispered, "May I enter too, Rameswar Kaka?"

  "Why not? Does the King object?"

  "I-"

  "He has already defied the Emperor's command once," commented Laxman, continuing, "Will he dare to defy his daughter?"

  "She-she can enter.."

  Rameswar chuckled.

  "Good."

  ***

  Diwan-i-Khas, Shahi Qila, Jaunpur.

  "Asghar Miyā, salām alaykum!"

  "Wa ?alaykum as-salām wa ra?matullāhi wa barakātuh, Governor."

  "Is that the full greeting, Miyā?"

  "Yes, Governor Sahib. It is odd that you, a Hindu, would greet me, a Muslim, in this manner."

  "Does it really matter? After all, these are but empty words."

  "E-empty words, sahib? Wh-what-?"

  "I mean what I said, Asghar Miyā. These greetings, oaths, spells, mantras, āyāts—these are all the same: machinations of self-conceited men."

  The Governor noticed that the Commander-in-Chief's eyes drifted away from his countenance.

  Clearing his throat, he clarified, "This is merely my opinion, and at present, it bears no relevance to the matters we are involved with."

  "Indeed, Governor. Should I produce the letter you had sent, or the decree I compelled the nawab to promulgate?"

  "The nawab promulgated a decree?"

  "Yes, Governor. Would you like me to brief you on its implications?"

  The Governor nodded in agreement.

  Asghar spoke:

  "The decree permits the ennoblement of commoners, allows them to marry into the nobility, opens higher administrative, judicial, and military offices to all his subjects, approves a substantial pay raise, and—most importantly—under the threat of armed insurrection, imposes absolute martial law."

  "Great! Great, O Commander! Great, my lord!"

  "It wouldn't have been possible without your prompting, Governor."

  The Governor smirked and enounced:

  "You have heralded a new eon—an eon of renewal, of hope, of parity, of dignity—a golden, resplendent age where there is neither high nor low, neither commander nor commanded, neither Hindu nor Muslim, neither Shia nor Sunni—for this era, which you have laboured to establish by virtue of this decree, shall disencumber all fetters and liberate the masses from the tyranny of that ayyāsh!"

  "Do you not feel you're being too idealistic, Governor? The decree I had compelled the Nawab to promulgate definitely did not sit well with the elites. Hindus in particular, Governor, cannot stomach having to share the durbaar with the untouchables, as your lot calls it."

  "Do not behave as though your community transcends the categories of caste and creed, Asghar Miyā. Just like we have Brahmins and Khatris, you have Sheikhs and Sayyids. Just like it is inconceivable and disreputable for a woman belonging to the twice-born castes to consort with a Shudra, it is impermissible—and indeed reproachable—for your believing women to enter into sexual relations with those who associate partners with Allah."

  There was no reply.

  The Governor, noticing that Asghar's eyes were refusing to meet his, quipped, "And as far as idealism goes, I haven't conquered Pataliputra and Kashi for nothing."

  "Ah yes, yes! My men were just talking about that, Governor. How did you accomplish that? The forces of the Kashi Naresh are not to be reckoned with!"

  "That might be true if you only have Indian technology at your hand, my Lord."

  "What do you mean?"

  "My lord, just as a sword made of bronze easily destroys one made of stone, a flintlock musket easily renders the beloved matchlocks of our peers cannon fodder. That, and of course, British tactics!"

  "British tactics?"

  "Yes, Commander! Firangee tactics! I am surprised you aren't aware of the tricks these firangees have up their sleeves!"

  "Unlike you, O Governor, I do not have the luxury of entertaining the English. They were exiled to Bengal, not Awadh, if you rememb-"

  "That is why I have brought them to your service, Commander!"

  "Pardon?"

  The Governor chuckled and replied in Persian, "Bia ve khodat bebin!"

  (Come and see for yourself!)

  "Hatman!"

  ***

  "Why are you seeking help for someone who considered you beneath his station to even refer by rank?-"

  "My lady, he is my super-"

  "-especially considering that he was never even loyal to his lawfully wedded, faithful, domestic, and docile wife! How dare you seek fealty for that heartless bastard?!"

  "Princess! He's your father!"

  "IN YOUR DREAMS, KAKA!" bellowed Kamayani, stomping her right foot.

  "ONLY IN YOUR WILDEST DREAMS IS THAT LOWLIFE MY FATHER! He is merely someone whose semen contributed to my birth. If I had an opportunity to go back in time, I would have undoubtedly killed him the day he was born!"

  She continued unrelentingly:

  "My grandfather is the only father I have ever known—the only man whose soft, tender fingers have caressed my cheeks, ruffled my hair, poked my dimples, and pulled my nose! Save him, I have no father, Rameswar Kaka; do not be mistake—"

  "ENOUGH!" blared the King.

  "Enough is enough, Kamayani-" he yelped in Telugu, adding, "you have embarrassed me enough! Get lost!"

  Kamayani froze.

  For a few moments, not even a syllable was uttered. To the King it seemed as though he could hear his own blood flowing through his arteries.

  And then it happened.

  Kamayani—the erstwhile meek, pliant, childlike Kamayani—bolted towards one of the guards stationed at the entrance. She pushed him with all her might and yanked the sword off his hand. When he tried standing up, she crushed his testicles, eliciting a spine-chinning shriek.

  Without warning, she stormed into the chamber and, pushing aside the unassuming Rameswar, pointed the sword at the King. Even though her hands were trembling, her body shivering, her face flushed with agitation, and her teeth chattering, she sibilated, "You are the last person to lecture others on being an embarrassment."

  "W-what is the meaning of th-"

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  Even before the King could complete his sentence, Kamayani, overcome with rancor, flung the sword at him. Since her entire body was convulsing and she had undergone no formal training, her attack was rather sloppy, yet sudden enough for the King to fail to parry the blow. The sword ricocheted off his right shoulder and sliced his turban in twain, flying all the way toward Rameswar, who dodged it in the nick of time. It fell upon the carpeted floor, made characteristic metallic noises as it oscillated, and finally came to a rest.

  ***

  Bara Imambara, Lucknow, same day

  "Did you summon me, Nawab?"

  "Yes, yes! What took you so long?"

  "Nawab, about a hundred armed men surround the Imambara at all times. They have been given strict orders to shoot people at sight after your imposition of martial law."

  "I did not impose martial law willingly! It was-"

  "Regardless, it was a rather daunting and, dare I say, life-threatening task for me to visit you while simultaneously avoiding their ubiquitous gaze. Any misstep would have certainly consigned the both of us to our Maker!"

  The Nawab coughed. He reminded himself that the only thing that mattered to him at the moment was his head; all else was inconsequential.

  Ever since the Lucknow garrison had mutinied and forced him to sign the outrageous decree, he was forced to relocate to the Bara Imambara and put under tight house arrest. His correspondence, even with his own children—who were, by the way, not allowed to stay with him—was monitored closely, and he was entirely forbidden from writing to anyone outside the city without the expressed written approval of the city's newly appointed military governor.

  Of course, permission was seldom granted.

  Terrorized by the possibility of losing his life, he managed to bribe his guards to let Rashid Khan, his personal valet, meet him after sunset. He had penned a letter of complaint to the Crown Prince, and wanted Rashid to deliver it to him at all costs.

  "Did you bring my seal, Rashid? It must have been-"

  "Yes, my overlord; I stole it from the palace. Here, have it!"

  Rashid uncovered his right hand and handed over a rectangular slab to the Nawab.

  "Finally," began the Nawab, "finally I can feel like a nawab again! Here, Rashid, press this slab against this page."

  Rashid did as he was told, and the emblem of the state of Awadh was imprinted on the first page of the long petition. Satisfied by its look, the Nawab twisted his moustache, adjusted his turban, and said, "Here, my man, hold this letter!"

  "Yes, my lord," Rashid commented, bending over to receive the scroll.

  "Listen carefully, Rashid. Make haste and deliver this petition to the Crown Prince. He must be stationed somewhere in Agra. Make sure you reach Agra before sunrise tomorrow."

  Rashid bowed deeply.

  "Baashad keh parwardigar bah shama baashad!"

  Rashid replied, "Parwadigar hamesha ba momenaan ast."

  ***

  Jaunpur, outside the Shahi Qila

  "Light infantry, Governor?"

  "Yes, my Lord. We need a dedicated platoon of soldiers that fight ahead of the main to harass the enemy, delay, and disrupt the supply line. These soldiers will also gather intelligence and identify potential weaknesses."

  "I have heard about this. They tried doing that to us in the 50s. They had their asses whooped."

  The Governor flinched at the mention of the 50s.

  "The times have changed, my lord. In the 50s, the illustrious emperor Avaneesh was on the throne. Now a vagabond rules the Empire."

  "True."

  The Governor led Asghar to a mango tree, beneath which a bunch of Britishers were closely surveying some kind of a map under the faint light of a candle. Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be a map of the subcontinent.

  "These Britishers will explain the rest to you later. Let us focus on strategy first, my lord."

  "Yes, yes!"

  As the duo neared the tree, the officers stood up. They uttered in unison:

  "As salamay walaikum, Commander in Chief of Hindoostan!"

  "Walaikum assalam! Shama Farsi sahbat mikonid?"

  "Baleh,"

  One of them added, "We have learned the tongue during our exile, Commander."

  "Very well, then. I will not need interpreters then. In any case, I would never speak your dastardly tongue."

  "These barbarians..." muttered an officer under his breath.

  "So then, my Governor, what is your plan?"

  "James, can you light another candle?"

  "Yes, my lord!"

  As James lit a candle, the Governor took the Commander-in-chief by his hand, and placed his finger on the map.

  "Kanpur is securely ours, is it not, Commander?"

  "Yes, Governor."

  "Sweet."

  "What are you getting at?"

  "Jhansi and Etawah are two of the largest commanderies of the Empire. They are also very heavily fortified. They will surely arrest our advance towards Agra. If we can somehow manage to contain at least Jhansi, and capture forts along the way, your forces can therefore bifurcate and move separately towards Etawah and Kannauj respectively. My forces will tread along the river, while the one advancing towards Etawah should try luring their forces into the plains where they can be ambushed."

  "Tread along the river? Where would you go?"

  "Why, my lord! Kannauj!"

  "And how many troops do you have?"

  The Governor looked at James and asked, "How many troops do we have?"

  "Excluding the forces promised by the king of Kashi, Sire?"

  Asghar's eyes widened.

  "Kashi Naresh has promised you troops?"

  James bowed.

  "Yes, Sire. Five thousand able-bodied men."

  "Then how much does that make your total, Governor?"

  "Twenty thousand, my lord."

  "I thought you had more."

  James queried in Persian, "Is that not sufficient, sire?"

  "When I had had the decree circulated amongst the commandaries of Oudh, the liaison to Kannauj had reported to me that about ten thousand soldiers were stationed there."

  "Which means we outnumber them, my lord," commented the Governor.

  "Mere numbers won't win you battles, Governor. Kannauj is surrounded by meandering streams and marshy land!"

  "I have seen the maps." came the reply.

  "We will use the geography to our advantage, Sahib. Trust your governor!"

  Asghar cackled.

  "Trust holds no meaning in this land, Governor. What if you turn on me while I escort you to Lucknow?"

  "Even if I do that," quipped the governor, "will a city that stations twice as many soldiers as I presently command during peacetime stay idle? I might be able to contain the spread of my betrayal, but even walls have ears; at some point of time, the news of my treachery shall reach the fort. Your subordinates would, then, certainly outnumber, outmaneuver and destroy me."

  Asghar smirked.

  "I admire your humility. You have my approval. I will see to it that your entire division is granted safe passage to Lucknow. You will be escorted by a battalion of soldiers from the Jaunpur army led by Farid Shah. There will be a brief halt at Sultanpur, where more battalions shall join you."

  "Thank you, Asghar Miyā!"

  The Governor muttered to himself: about a thousand additional soldiers, if I manage to bribe them.

  James enquired, "Will you not accompany us, Sire?"

  "I will be travelling ahead of you."

  "Noted, Sire."

  "Now, now," began Asghar, tilting his head and staring curiously at the Governor's visage.

  "Yes, my lord?"

  "What is all of this for, Governor? Do you want the throne?"

  There was an ear-popping silence for a while.

  "I am waiting for-"

  "I don't want the throne."

  The reply was sudden in delivery but resolute in tone. Asghar tried scanning the Governor's face for any creases or beads of perspiration or even a flicker of restlessness, but there was nothing to be found.

  "Very well, then. Khuda Hafiz!"

  "Khuda Hafiz."

  ***

  Bhopal

  Kamayani bolted through the entrance, unfastening the curtain covering it in the process—but she could not care less. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips trembling, and she was fighting back tears as her eyes swelled.

  She passed by the Crown Prince—who had heard of the commotion from the outside and rushed inside, scimitar in hand—but failed to notice him. She also failed to notice the sheer number of guards she had collided with (and thrown onto the ground, as a consequence), for she could care less.

  The inner sanctum of the Diwan-i-Khas became visible a few moments later. Therein, sitting directly underneath the canopy meant to house the monarch, was Alaknanda.

  Kamayani noticed that she was clutching her dagger as though it were her beloved about to be spirited away. Its blade was ruddied, having pierced her tender palms.

  Kamayani started, "Alka..."

  There was no response.

  She inched closer and repeated, "Alka..."

  Alaknanda was blissfully unaware of her cousin's presence and kept staring at the grand entrance of the hall.

  Kamayani, hyperventilating and starting to lose vision, tripped on a raised curtain crease, and fell on the ground with a thud. Alaknanda, startled, rushed to the scene, and was aghast at what she saw.

  Her cousin's hair was undone, eyelids barely open, and angiya exposed.

  She bellowed, "D-did someone assault you?! Why are you undressed?!"

  "No, no; I'm fine, sister! I'm..I'm so glad to se-"

  "What happened to you? Why did you faint?"

  Kamayani tried uttering a reply, but she didn't the energy. Instead, she held her cousin's palm, kissed the open cut, and started drawing Mō?ī alphabets.

  (Note: Modi is an old script used to write the Marathi language until the 19th century.)

  I attacked the King.

  Alaknanda's eyes widened.

  "What?! Are you stupi-"

  I lost my cool. He called me an embarrassment in front of Rameswar Ka—

  "WE SHALL TALK ON THE BATTLEFIELD, ANIRUDDH!"

  "Bundela Sahib, listen to me—"

  "I shall not listen to you even for a trifling moment, yuvarāja! Not only did your father refuse an official firmaan of the Emperor but also collude with the Marathas, the sworn enemy of the Gupta race!"

  "Sahib, I will convince him to withdraw the tr-"

  "He defies the Emperor—a monarch whose single general alone commands fourty thousand soldiers in peacetime. Do you think you, his mere son, could dissuade him?"

  The Crown Prince was dumbfounded..

  "And to think that he ordered his guards to apprehend me! Apprehend me—Rameswar Bundela—the Sword of the Guptas! Coward! Traitor! Tell me, brahminkumāra, is treachery the second nature of your lot?"

  Alaknanda, who was holding Kamayani, couldn't bear the insults any longer. Come what may, she was a proud daughter of the Mishra household, and therefore, a brāhmani.

  "Sāvdhān, Bundela Sahib! How dare you reproach our varna? Have you forgotten what the scriptures prescribe for those who deride Brahmins?"

  Rameswar retorted, "The scriptures are what prevented me from beheading your double-dealing father, crossbreed. The scriptures also prescribe utter slavery to one's father before betrothal and non-association with other men, but of course, a crossbreed like you, born to a fisherman's daughter, would never know the proper etiquette of noble women!"

  Alaknanda was incensed. Her grip on Kamayani's palm tightened, and she muttered a curse under her breath.

  Kamayani, gaining strength and slowly resting her head on her cousin's soldier, quietly hissed—in broken Bundeli—"Rameswar Bundela, tell your beloved emperor to be a father before you tell the daughter of the King of Bhopal to be a proper woman."

  The Bundela scoffed at the stinging remark and stormed out of the room. He was pursued by Laxman, whose sword was dripping in blood.

  Laxman saw the Crown Prince and quipped, "Forgive me, O brahminkumāra, for the mahāpātaka I am about to commit. Brahmicide is a mahāpātaka, is it not?"

  "Y..yes?"

  Laxman chuckled.

  "Indra lost his throne for having slain Vritra. I wonder what punishment the servants of Yama have in store for me."

  Aniruddha grabbed onto his sword instinctively.

  “That sword doesn't suit you, yuvarāja. The Vedas do.”

  Having said thus, Laxman bowed and scurried away.

  Kamayani tapped Alka’s arm.

  “What is it, Kamayani? I–Ignore what he said—”

  “Teach me how to be a man.”

  “Huh? What do you mean?!”

  “Teach me how to ride a horse, hold a sword, shoot arrows, and command armies. I'm tired of being a woman. I'm tired of being meek and submissive.”

  “What has gotten into you? Why are you saying all of this?”

  Kamayani gave her cousin a puzzled look.

  “Why do you sound so surprised, Alka? Do you not despise your female form?”

  “I despise my condition, not the form, Kamayani.”

  “But the condition is a consequence of the form, is it not?”

  Alka avoided the question. Taking her cousin by her hand, she inched closer to her brother, who was staring at the flame of a nearby lamp, unable to recover from what had transpired moments ago.

  “Bhaiya!”

  “Haan, Alka..”

  “Could you please take Kammu to my room?”

  “I don't think I can attend to her after all that has happened, sister.”

  “Tell a guard to escort her, then.”

  “Sure…”

  “And, bhaiya—”

  “Yes?”

  “You will soon have another disciple.”

  “Huh?”

  Alka pointed at her cousin and uttered, “She will be joining us.”

  “Ah. I see.”