Andhra was gone now, crushed under the Malwa heel. But she was quite sure that Ganapati retained his old special post—saying no for the King of Kerala.
Ganapati cleared his throat.
“The King—your grandfather—is in a difficult situation. Very difficult. The Malwa Empire is not directly threatening us. Nor are they likely to, in the foreseeable future. Malwa’s ambitions in the Deccan seem to have been satisfied by their”—he grimaced apologetically—”conquest of your father’s realm. And now their attention is focussed to the northwest. Their recent invasion of Persia, from our point of view, was a blessing. The great bulk of their army is tied up there, unavailable for use against the independent south Indian monarchies. Persia will not fall easily, not even to the Malwa.”
The viceroy leaned forward, interjecting earnestly: “That’s especially true in light of the newest development. According to the most recent reports, it seems that the Roman Empire will throw its weight on the side of the Aryans. Their most prestigious general, in fact, is apparently leading an army into Persia. A man by the name of Belisarius. As Ganapati says, the Malwa Empire is now embroiled in a war which will last for years. Decades, even.”
Ganapati cleared his throat.
“Under these circumstances, the obvious course of action for Kerala is to do nothing that might aggravate the Malwa. They are oriented northwest, not south. Let us keep it that way.”
Dadaji Holkar interrupted. “That is only true for the immediate period, Matisachiva. The time will come when Malwa will resume its march to the south. They will not rest until they have conquered all of India.”
Ganapati gave Shakuntala’s adviser a cold stare. For all of Holkar’s decorum and obvious erudition, the Keralan councillor suspected that the headstrong Empress-in-exile had chosen a most unsuitable man to be her adviser. The impetuous child had even named the man as her peshwa! As if her ridiculous “government-in-exile” needed a premier.
The Matisachiva sniffed. No doubt Holkar was brahmin, as Maratha counted such things. But Maratha blood claims were threadbare, at best. Like all Maratha, Holkar was a deeply polluted individual.
Still—Ganapati was a diplomat. So he responded politely.
“That is perhaps true,” he said. “Although I think it is unwise to believe we can read the future. Who really knows Malwa’s ultimate aims?”
He held up a hand, forestalling Shakuntala’s angry outburst.
“Please, Your Majesty! Let us not quarrel over the point. Even if your adviser’s assessment is accurate, it changes nothing. Malwa intentions are one thing. Their capabilities are another. Let us suppose, for a moment, that the Malwa succeed in their conquest of Persia. They will be exhausted by the effort—and preoccupied with the task of administering vast and newly-subjugated territories.”
He leaned back in his chair, exuding self-satisfaction.
“Either way, you see, Malwa poses no danger to Kerala—so long as we do not provoke them.”
The Matisachiva frowned, casting a stony glance at Holkar.
“Unfortunately, the recent actions of the Maratha rebels are stirring up the—”
“They are not rebels,” snapped Shakuntala. “They are Andhra loyalists, fighting to restore the legitimate power to the Deccan. Which is me. I am the rightful ruler of Andhra, not the Malwa invaders.”
For a moment, Ganapati was nonplussed.
“Well—yes. Perhaps. In the best of all worlds. But we do not live in that world, Empress.” The frown returned. “The fact is that Malwa has conquered Andhra. In that world—the real world—Raghunath Rao and his little band of outlaws—”
“Not so little,” interjected Holkar. “And hardly outlaws! Speaking of new developments—we just received word yesterday that Rao has seized the city of Deogiri after overwhelming the large Malwa garrison.”
Ganapati and the viceroy jerked erect in their chairs.
“What?” demanded the viceroy. “Deogiri?”
“Madness,” muttered the Matisachiva. “Utter madness.”
Ganapati rose to his feet and began pacing. For all the councillor’s practiced diplomacy, he was obviously very agitated.
“Deogiri?”
Holkar nodded.
“Yes, Matisachiva—Deogiri. Which, as you know, is both the largest and the best fortified city in southern Majarashtra.”
The Matisachiva pressed both hands against his beard.
“This is a catastrophe!” he exclaimed. He turned toward Holkar and Shakuntala, waving his hands in midair.
“Do you know what this means? The Malwa will be sending a large army to subdue the rebels! And Deogiri is not far from Kerala’s northern frontier!”