In the City of Gold and Silver by Kenizé Mourad, Anne Mathai in collaboration with Marie-Louise Naville Read Free Book Online

tragic situation. They can only try to negotiate, promising to follow the resident’s and the governor general’s injunctions to the letter, if they consent to express their demands clearly . . .
    â€œLet us not harbour any illusions, gentlemen, it will be of no use. Sir James declared that the honourable East India Company has already waited too long, and regardless of anything we might do, their decision is irrevocable. If the treaty is not signed within three days, the kingdom will be forcefully annexed and Your Majesty will lose all rights and privileges. I fear that unless we are willing to place our own and thousands of innocent lives in danger, we are obliged to comply.”
    â€œComply with what?”
    A handsome man, about forty years old, has just entered. He is Rajah Jai Lal Singh. Respectfully, he bows before the sovereign.
    â€œPlease forgive me for being late, Your Majesty. I was not at home, a sick uncle . . . ”
    Despite the gravity of the situation, the king cannot suppress a smile. The rajah is known to assiduously frequent the parties held by the famous Chowk courtesans, who squabble over his presence, for he is as witty as he is charming.
    Quickly he is informed of the situation, and they hand him the governor’s letter to read. He makes no comment—unlike the other members of the Court present, the rajah has a military background—but calmly declares:
    â€œI see only one solution: we must fight.”
    His statement is received with alarmed protests.
    â€œFight? Against the British Army! And with what?”
    â€œWe will gather all the taluqdars. Each one has his small army and they detest the British, who try to reduce their privileges. Added to Your Majesty’s troops—about seventy thousand men, including the palace guards and the police, poorly trained I admit, but who would lay down their lives for their master—that will make up a force capable of resisting. And of course there is the civilian population!”
    And, turning to the king:
    â€œThe people love you, Your Majesty, and are increasingly angered by the rudeness and arrogance of the English. They will fight to keep you and to avoid falling under the yoke of the foreigners, who intend to reform their customs and even their beliefs.”
    â€œWhat can these people do against British cannons?” objects the prime minister impatiently. “As for the taluqdars’ troops, they are barely fit to fight bandits. A well-trained military force will make short shrift of them! Do not listen to the rajah, Your Majesty, he wants to drag you into a mad venture where you will lose everything. The only reasonable solution is to sign. You will enjoy a peaceful existence, a comfortable income and you will retain your titles and honours!”
    â€œSir, I always suspected you were a friend of the British, but your words prove you are only their minion!” exclaims Rajah Jai Lal, red with indignation.
    Behind the jalis, the Queen Mother lets out a small laugh of satisfaction.
    â€œWell said! I have often advised my son to be wary of him, this Ali Naqvi is a traitor employed by the British to spy on us.”
    Hazrat Mahal does not reply; she only has eyes for the rajah. What a brave man! If the king would listen to him, instead of those servile courtiers who surround him . . . She remembers what she has heard about Jai Lal Singh: his family is Hindu and of modest origin. His father was a small landowner who had once saved King Nasiruddin Haider from a panther attack during a hunt. The sovereign ennobled him and made him his trusted confidant. As children, Jai Lal and Prince Wajid Ali Shah played together. However, fearing the Court’s atmosphere would soften him, Jai Lal’s father had sent him away to pursue a military education. The two friends had nonetheless remained very close. The king knows he can completely rely on the rajah’s loyalty.
    In the Council Hall,