“It can only be a mutiny if we’re British citizens!” the rani’s father exclaimed.
The messenger glanced nervously in Moropant’s direction, but the rani waved her hand for him to continue. “Please.”
“As . . . as a leader of this mutiny,” the man said, “a warrant has been issued for your arrest. It calls for Your Highness to be hanged in Fort William. I’m sorry,” he whispered. There were tears in the man’s eyes, and his hands shook as he offered her the letter.
Moropant removed himself from the chamber. In light of such news, it hardly even mattered what the second messenger had to say. But he stepped forward, and pressed his hands together in namaste.
“Yes?” the rani said quietly.
“I’m afraid I’ve come with more bad news, Your Highness.”
“Go on.”
“Sadashiv Narayan has taken over the nearby Fortress of Karhera and held an enthronement ceremony for himself. He’s appointing his own officials, and has sent out an official announcement about taxes.”
If it hadn’t come on the heels of such bad news from England, it might have been comical. But the part about taxes was more than the rani could bear. I could see her resolve beginning to crumble when the doors of the hall suddenly opened and her father returned.
“For the Rani of Jhansi!” Moropant said, waving a document.
We all stared at him, wondering what could possibly account for his sudden change in mood. Then he produced a kharita and handed it to me.
“It’s from Major Erskine,” I said. I read as fast as I could. “And they’re requesting that you take charge of the kingdom of Jhansi on behalf of the British government.”
Everyone in the room was overcome with joy. Some of the Durgavasi even began to weep. But I suspected the British and their motives. They simply needed someone to keep the peace until they could return to power here.
“So what will your first act be?” Moropant said.
“To go to Karhera and arrest this pretender.”
It took exactly two hours for the rebels to give up Sadashiv Narayan. We returned to the Panch Mahal shortly after. Armed guards escorted the prisoner to the Durbar Hall, where the rani handed him a sentence of death. At this, Kahini grew hysterical.
“Please,” she begged. “Send him to prison. Don’t take his life!”
“Kahini,” the rani hissed. “What’s the matter with you? Do you know this man?”
“Yes. We grew up together in the same court in Unao.”
I thought immediately of the letter Gopal accidentally handed to me. It had been signed “S.” For Sadashiv. So this was Kahini’s lover. I looked at the tall, handsome man in the open vest who had been raised at court with Kahini. How had she deceived Gopal into delivering her letters to him?
Across the hall, Arjun frowned at me. I shook my head. I had no idea. Was Kahini a traitor? Had she been preparing Sadashiv to march on Jhansi, then sent her ring as proof that the right time had come?
The rani and Kahini stepped outside to speak privately. When they returned, Kahini looked composed, and a tense knot formed in my stomach. She had gotten her way because I’d kept the contents of the letter and the suspicious ring a secret from the rani.
I watched the rani take her throne. She said, “Sadashiv, you are a foolish but lucky man.”
He glanced at Kahini, but his gaze didn’t linger. His dark eyes turned to the rani, and I wondered how many women he’d seduced with those eyes.
“Your sentence will be life in prison. I do not believe you understood what you were aiming for when you came to Jhansi looking to take my throne. You should have remained in Unao.” She nodded, and a pair of guards led him away.
He was strangely composed, bowing and thanking the rani for her mercy. He didn’t look at Kahini, and Kahini didn’t make any further scene. It was as if her hysterics had never taken place. How had Kahini convinced the rani to spare a traitor’s life? But if Sadashiv was a traitor, so was Kahini. I possessed the ring to prove it. Only how could I be sure? And how could I ever go to the rani unless I was certain?
The rani rehired the thousands of soldiers she’d been forced to dismiss, and their first order of business was to arrest every Kutwal who had helped enforce the British’s Circular Memorandum. The Temple of Mahalakshmi was to be reopened; the butchery next to it shut down. Most significantly, the Union Jack was to be removed from the south tower and the rani’s red flag, with the whisk and kettledrum, was to be restored. As soon as the rani was finished in the Durbar Hall, we made our way to the Durgavas to change from our formal angarkhas to simpler ones. The other women threw questioning glances at Kahini, but even Rajasi kept her silence.
I waited until the other women had left for the queen’s room before confronting Kahini.
“I know you have my ring,” she said as she slipped her pink angarkha to the floor. She was even more beautiful naked than she was dressed. Was this how she had persuaded Gopal to deliver her letters? “I’d like it back.”