ismenin | Beyond Simla

ismenin

O Lij of wonder, Lij of might,
Lij of royal beauty bright.

We Three Kings Of Orient Are
from the Christmas Song Generator.

AMEN!!!!

Hi, there! Well, here I am upon Sunday night, once more, ready to post. I'd like you to know that, from today, there'll only be one chapter a week, because I'm writing ch 21, and there's not much room for leeway if I don't feel up to writing - so back to the old order!

We tried looking out for the meteors, but they're not out in our area. I'll try agaiin, soon. Me likes shooting stars. :D

In the meantime, here's

Thank you, as always,

ladysunrope for beta. Hugses. :D

Part 17

Elijah passed a second night in the oppressively stuffy room. He woke to darkness, but there was a stub left of the candle, and he carried a case of matches in his pocket.

He examined his watch, and wound it carefully. It was half past four; but whether it was morning or afternoon he could not guess, for no sound filtered down into this cellar.

He sighed as he made use of the bucket, and then lay back upon the bed. If this chamber, into which he had been hastily bundled, was intended to oppress and dishearten, it fulfilled its purpose.

Several hours later, a rather grubbily dressed man brought food, but Elijah, thinking to discover whether it was breakfast or dinner was thwarted in this hope, as it was a rather small bowl of thin, spiced stew, and some dried fruit.

He was hungry, so he ate it quickly, hoping that it was not dinner. If another meal came in about six hours, he hoped it would be lunch. He had tried to question the man who had brought the food, but he had shaken his head. Those who came to him had had instructions not to speak.

He settled back on the rough pillow, and closed his eyes.

Next day, he had a visitor.

Men had visited him only to bring him food, and candles, and empty the bucket, and he was surprised when an hour after a meal was delivered, the door was unlocked, and in walked Duleep Singh, carrying a bottle, two tin mugs and a chair.

Elijah swung his legs over the bed, stared at the mugs, and quickly marshalling his feelings, looked at the man who sat before him.

Duleep poured a drink - it was gin, Elijah could smell it - and offered it to him.

"No, I thank you," said Elijah, in the same tone he would have used towards a maiden aunt offering him tea. "I make it a rule never to accept an alcoholic beverage from anyone who has... imprisoned me." He was about to say stuck a knife in me, or beaten me over the head but he thought better of it.

He asked, instead the question that was uppermost in his mind. "Why are you doing this? I thought you were loyal to Udom Singh."

Duleep shrugged. "I am loyal to those who pay me - I do what I do for money. Everyone has a price, my lord, and mine was a substantial sum. It makes no difference, in any case," he said, in a guttural Hindi. "I merely came to tell you that you are being held to ransom - set at two million English pounds - and will be released when all the conditions have been met by the British Government."

Elijah controlled his features. Ransom! "What are the conditions? May I be allowed to know?"

Duleep laughed. "No, my little man, you may not. His Highness keeps his secret negotiations, well...secret."

"His Highness?" Elijah asked. "Which of the princes ordered my capture? Tell me!" His voice was firm. He was not afraid, only bewildered.

Duleep tutted at him. "And I thought you were a clever man, my lord. Can you not guess? He is well-versed in the arts of dissimulation. When Ranjipore is at stake, there is nothing he will not do to secure her safety. It was Udom Singh himself."

Elijah did not believe it for a moment, but as Duleep left, chuckling, Elijah lay back on his bed, and began to think. Could it be true that Dom had betrayed him? He was sure of nothing any more.

If Duleep was right then all was a sham, and the thought mocked him.

***

The chastened messengers came down off the pass a little over an hour after they had left, and ran to Dom's chambers. They stood outside for a moment, getting their breath, before asking the guard standing outside to let them in.

Billy and Dom were waiting inside, both still in their riding gear, and anxious to hear the news. It was not good.

"No-one remembers, clearly, Highness, whether they rode north or south. It was not a matter of import, they said," the elder man reported, kneeling before Dom's chair. "They notice men riding in, but not out. One or two thought they went south, that was all."

Dom dismissed them, made a mental note to chastise the hill guard, and leaned back in his chair for a moment. He sent for the Captain of the Guard.

"You know what we must do, Billy. There is no escaping it. We must try there, first."

"Aye," Billy's face was glum. "I see that, my lord. But what if they have...hurt him?"

Dom rose from his chair and paced about the room. "Then they shall feel the wrath of Udom Singh. I am not prepared to give up that which belongs to me so easily..."

Billy blinked. "Does his lordship belong to you, then?" he asked, his tone uncertain.

Dom stopped in his tracks. "We...we belong to each other," he said, his voice low with distress. "I cannot lose him, now."

The Captain of the Guard was subjected to a blistering reproof on his men's abilities, and promised, his face burning with shame, that stringent measures would be taken concerning that particular troop of men. The Captain left, furious, but ashamed.

Then Dom sent for Basmin Singh.

Shortly afterwards, Basmin entered the room, but he was not alone. He was accompanied by a tall, dark-haired man in his mid forties, with eyes as blue as Elijah's. He was dusty from riding hard, but he smiled at his cousin.

Dom felt a weight lift off his shoulders. "Vigran Singh!" Dom was enveloped in two strong arms before his cousin knelt before him.

"I have brought my best fighting men, Udom Singh," he said formally. "I have heard that they might prove useful to you."

Dom nodded, before he turned his attention to Basmin. "Call together a war party of a thousand men. Send to all my outlying posts. They are to be here within two days, at the latest. I will tolerate no excuses. I will have this palace kept safe, and my children, mother and wives guarded well."

"How many men have you brought, Vigran?"

"Five hundred. Will that do?"

Dom looked at Billy who sat there, smiling slightly. "How many are stationed at the garrison?" he asked, peremptorily.

Billy grinned. "Two hundred and fifty two, at this present moment," he said, finishing a cup of tea. "With the help of Prince Vigran's men, we should do very well, my lord."

Basmin bowed, as he prepared to leave. "I go to execute your will, Highness, but I must inform you that General Portman is on his way here. He has been spotted by a rider on the high hill, passing the Gundra Rock below, with a troop of about twenty men. He will be here in a little over an hour." He closed the door softly behind him.

It was Dom's turn to smile. "Let us hear what the fat pig has to say to us. But first, Vigran, this is Mr Billy Boyd, who will help us more than we could have hoped."

Vigran shook Billy's hand. "Do you have men and guns, my friend?"

Dom answered before Billy could speak. "No, he has better ammunition than that. Someone is playing cat and mouse with me, Vigran - but Billy - oh, Billy has the only trap between us all."

Vigran Singh sat down to listen whilst Dom and Billy spoke. At the end of the recital, he smiled. "We will succeed, cousin - I have no doubt of that. And we shall bring back your man, safely. Do not fear."

Dom sighed. If only he was as certain. He was afraid - afraid for the little man with the huge heart. And the bastard that held him would stop at nothing - he had proved that.

***

By the time General Portman's carriage drew up outside the main palace doors, Dom, Vigran and Billy had bathed and changed their clothing, and were waiting, with the rest of Dom's family, and senior members of his household, in the largest - and most intimidating - throne room.

The red and gilded velvet thrones had been replaced by an enormous silver edifice that had been presented to Dom's father by Queen Victoria, and Dom sat on it, high and impassive, dressed in the black and gold that had so impressed Elijah.

When Portman was ushered in, he was surprised to see a Scot in full dress tartan, complete with kilt, dagger, and velvet jacket, standing on one side of the king, and an Englishman, dressed in an immaculate morning suit, on the other.

He bowed, then, and, catching an angry look from Arjit Singh, knelt, rather clumsily, on one knee before the mighty throne.

Dom waved a hand at the general, who rose, rather stiffly to his feet. "Say on," Dom commanded.

Portman bowed again, and reached into his inside pocket, bringing out a piece of crumpled paper. "I received this, very late last night, Highness. It is a ransom note for His Excellency, Lord Elijah Wood, from those bastards, the Pathan robbers..."

Portman was about to read, with obvious relish, what the letter contained, when Dom reached out a peremptory hand, and Captain Wenham, standing behind the General, stepped forward and took the document out of Portman's unresisting grasp.

Dom read the document carefully, then, his face a mask of fury, stood. "Uncle, cousins, Mr Boyd, Dr McKellen, come with me. Captain Wenham, escort the general, and follow us, if you please."

"I say," blustered the general, unused to peremptory commands concerning his person. "You have no right..."

Dom stopped in his tracks, and glared at the man. "I have every right to do as I wish, in my own palace, as you would know if you had bothered to read the documents from the British Government concerning me. Come willingly, or in chains, it matters not." He nodded at two tall guards standing beside the door, who advanced upon Portman, their faces impassive. The general gave in, and followed.

***

Elijah was hungry. No meal had been brought to him since he rose at six, and it was now four o'clock. He wondered, not for the first time, whether it was early morning or afternoon. Whichever it was, he was hungry, and thirsty - the water jug was empty.

He had swallowed his scruples - which was all there was to swallow - and called out. Then he thumped on the door when no-one came, but soon gave up.

Am I to be left to starve? he thought, thinking of Dom finding his emaciated body. For he was certain that Dom would find him, wherever he was. The country would be razed before Dom stopped searching for him, that he knew. Not for one moment, now he had had time to think things over, did he believe that Dom had engineered this situation. It lacked subtlety, and Dom was...

...what Dom was, faded from his mind, as the door was flung open, and Duleep Singh came in with two strapping men. Elijah stood to face him. No-one, he thought, should say that I did not face my fate, for he could see that one of the men held a rope, and the three men held short leather, shot-filled clubs.

"We are to make you suitable for inspection by His Highness. He wishes you to be beaten to within an inch of your life. I hope we can stop before then, but I do not think he will mind if we do not. It only serves to strengthen our cause against certain factions. You aristocratic British fools have near ruined India. We shall curtail their rule - with your blood."

Fifteen minutes later, Duleep Singh kicked Elijah in the chest before leaving. The unconscious man on the floor did not move. Giving a satisfied smile, Duleep left him to die.

***

General Portman was not offered a chair. Billy sat next to Dom, his face solemn, but alert.

Dom's family arranged themselves behind the king's chair - Arjit, Basmin, Osman, Vigran and Ian.

"Speak, you!" Vigran demanded, his eyes smouldering. "What have you done with him?"

Portman was on uncertain ground. He did not know how much the Princes knew. It seemed, however, that they did know something.

"Done with whom, prince? I do not know what you mean."

To his great surprise, it was Billy Boyd who spoke. "I should let them have you, I suppose - it would be quicker, and we are wasting valuable time whilst you bluster. There is a lot that can be got out of a man with a skinning knife, hot irons, and long, sharp needles. I know that from personal experience."

The blood drained from Portman's face. "Who are you? I'd heard you were His Excellency's valet."

Billy smiled. "So I am, general. But I am also several other things as well. Captain Wenham, would you enlighten the general?"

David Wenham stepped forward. "May I introduce you to Commander William Boyd, General. A brevet, of course, a temporary promotion in the field of battle, so to speak, from the War Office, in London. In battle conditions, particularly those concerning Lord Wood, his rank supercedes everyone elses - even yours. Her Majesty is anxious to keep her cousin safe, and she is also keen to rid Ranjipore of you, general - reports having reached her of your...ineptitude. You have been watched, sir."

Billy cleared his throat. "Hot irons? Or will you talk, now?"

An hour later, Dom, Billy, Ian and David, with the British soldiers presently at the palace, rode out of the palace grounds, followed by Basmin, Vigran, and his five hundred warriors, all armed to the teeth, and hot for battle.

Captain Wenham smiled as he remembered Portman's face staring out at him from behind the bars of a dungeon cell. Billy had ordered it, and it was so. Bloody good job, too! Best place for him! David thought, as the dust from the galloping hooves caught at his throat. I hope we find the little chap safe.

The company took the garrison with only two shots being fired. One was fired by Dr Crowley, at Dom, as he reined in before Portman's house, and the other was fired by David, as he killed the armed man.

"Men!" shouted Wenham from his horse, as the soldiers, taken unaware, scrabbled for their rifles. "The reign of Portman is ended! We have come to rescue the ambassador, not to fight. Go inside, and keep the peace."

The men both trusted and liked the captain. They put down their guns, and went inside without another word. They were followed by Hill, Smithy and the other soldiers, who would tell them as much of the story as Dom and Billy had thought it necessary for them to know.

A colonel came forward, hands raised, and held a hasty conversation with David. He listened carefully, and after casting an approving glance at Billy, went off to inform his fellow officers of the state of affairs.

General Portman's wife came out as Dom dismounted, and screamed as she saw the doctor's body lying on her front door step.

"Quiet, madam!" Ian said, drawing her aside. "You have extensive cellars in this house, I believe?

She continued screaming, so he slapped her face. She fell against his chest, sobbing, and Ian could not help contrasting this weak soul with Dom's mother. Strong, and firm of purpose even in the face of her own death, he remembered. That was why he had saved her.

"Surround the house!" Vigran instructed his men. "Let none escape!"

Dom drew his pistol, and hurried into the house. The servants pressed themselves against the walls, but the steward came forward when he saw it was Dom who led the group.

"Where are the cellars, Naadir?" Dom demanded, and the man wasted no time showing him the door. "They are quite extensive, Great King. Used for storage..."

Dom did not stop to listen. He hurried down the staircase, lit by several oil lamps, and stopped, holding up his hand as he heard voices talking in Hindi nearby. He did not want to shoot any innocent people, so he crept forward, to find two servants, a man and a woman loading vegetables into a basket.

They shrank into a corner as they saw him, but he put up his hand, enjoining silence. "Are there more cellars than these?" he whispered, and the man nodded, frightened, pointing to a door at the end of the passage.

"Get out of the building, now, and tell everyone else to go, too," David whispered from behind the king.

The walls were thick, and no sound could be heard from above. They went as quietly as they could to the door, which led to a flight of stone stairs. Silent as mice, they went down them - Dom, Vigrah, David, Billy, Basmin, and ten of Vigran's men. Others were surrounding the building, and they were all confident none would escape.

As the last man reached the bottom step, Dom could see that this cellar was much larger than the one above. There were arms stored in some of the rooms, and a long corridor led off the centre, at the end of which could be heard the murmur of voices. English voices.

Basmin, who was at the back of the group, blundered into a bucket, and the clang echoed along the walls. All held their guns at the ready, but no-one was more surprised than Dom when a man in Pathan garb stuck his nose out from one of the rooms, and gaped at the advancing men.

"Fuck me!" the man said, in a pure Cockney accent. "They've gorn and nobbled us!" He ducked back into the room, and, as Vigran's men dashed forward with a blood-curdling yell, several other armed men came from the other end of the corridor, and opened fire.

Basmin was slightly injured, but still managed to kill four men, and Vigran's men accounted for several more, before the rest of the cellar-dwellers surrendered.

Dom strode forward and pulled the Pathan head-gear of one of the men. His face was brown, but underneath his hat his forehead was pink and sweaty. "Where is he?" he growled.

David came past him, and glared at the men. "Answer His Highness, man. You are English, aren't you?"

"Ugh..." the man croaked, his speech being slightly impeded by Dom's grip on his throat. David prised the fingers off the man, who gulped air in relief. "He's there, Capting, in the room at the end..."

Dom ran.

The door was bolted from the outside, so Dom quickly slid it open, and with Billy and Ian, entered the room.

Elijah lay on the floor in a pool of blood. Dom cried out and dashed forward, knelt at his lover's side, and keened into the fetid air about him. “We are too late!”

Ian's hand rested on Dom's shoulder. "Put him on the bed, Dom."

Dom picked Elijah up, and placed him on the narrow bed, whilst Billy went outside and fetched two oil lamps.

Dom knelt by the bed and held Elijah's hand. He did not trust himself to touch him anywhere else.

Ian murmured, "poor boy, poor boy!" He straighened up and looked with sad eyes at his grandson. "I cannot treat him here, Dom. We must carry him upstairs."

Without a word, Dom gathered Elijah carefully into his arms, and, scorning help, carried him up the steps, into the hallway. As the light from the doorway hit Elijah's face, Dom gasped, then turned his head away as he made for the stairs.

The steward, running up before him, opened a door, and Dom carried Elijah in, and placed him upon the hastily drawn down sheet.

"Dear God alive!" said Billy, looking at his master and friend. There was blood everywhere, and, worst of all, it was running down from the corners of Elijah’s mouth.

"Dom, get out!" Ian ordered, but Dom refused to move from Elijah's side. He sat there, tight lipped, body tense, as Billy and Ian cut the clothing from Elijah’s unconscious body, and got to work.

Dom’s eyes fixed on Elijah's bruised and battered face. I will not leave him he thought, his heart pierced by the sight before him.

Basmin came to the open doorway. "Udom," he said quietly, "we have found Duleep Singh amongst the prisoners - disguised as a Pathan ..."

Dom snarled, but did not look away from his lover's face. "Lock him up, cousin - but carefully. Keep him alive, I command you. I want to kill him myself."

Basmin bowed low, and turned to Ian, whispering ‘how is the young Lord?’

Ian met his eyes and shook his head. “I can do my best but it is bad, Highness, and some things can only be decided by a Higher Power.”

A low cry of anguish came from the bedside.

Basmin left his king to weep.

Two million pounds in 1895 is today, worth:

£172,110,563.38 using the retail price index.
£961,839,183.67 using average earnings.

Current Mood: satisfied

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

pattilovesviggo.livejournal.com

Oh my goodness, what have they done to Elijah? I hope he`s recovered some in the next chapter. In knew Portman was no good. I`m glad Vigran arrived with his men to help Dom. Billy is Commander William Boyd, I wasn`t expecting that at all. Great stuff.

From:

Beyond Simla - Seventeen

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