“Sahib?”
“Close the gates.”
“Sahib?” Gopal frowned at the Colonel. It had been agreed with Manu
Bappoo that the four gates that barred the entranceway to the Inner
Fort would be left open so that the defenders of the Outer Fort could
retreat swiftly if it was necessary. Dodd had even posted a company to
guard the outermost gate to make sure that no British pursuers could
get in behind Manu Bappoo’s men, yet now he was suggesting that the
gates should be shut?
“You want me to close them, sahib?” Gopal asked, wondering if he had
misheard.
“Close them, bar them and forget them,” Dodd said happily, ‘and pull
the platoon back inside the fort. I have another job for them.”
“But, sahib, if-‘ “You heard me, Jemadar! Move!”
Gopal ran to do Dodd’s bidding, while the Colonel himself walked along
the fire step that edged the entranceway to make certain that his
orders were being obeyed. He watched, satisfied, as the troops
guarding the outer gate were brought back into the fortress and then
as, one by one, the four vast gates were pushed shut. The great
locking bars, each as thick as a man’s thigh, were dropped into their
metal brackets. The Outer Fort was now isolated. If Manu Bappoo
repelled the British then it would be a simple matter to open the gates
again, but if he lost, and if he fled, then he would find himself
trapped between Dodd’s Cobras and the advancing British.
Dodd walked to the centre of the fire step and there climbed onto an
embrasure so that he could talk to as many of his men as possible.
“You will see that I have shut the gates,” he shouted, ‘and they will
stay shut!
They will not be opened except by my express permission. Not if all
the maharajahs of India stand out there and demand entrance! The gates
stay shut. Do you understand?”
The white-coated soldiers, or at least those few who spoke some
English, nodded while the rest had Dodd’s orders translated. None
showed much interest in the decision. They trusted their Colonel, and
if he wanted the gates kept closed, then so be it.
Dodd watched the smoke thicken on the far side of the Outer Fort. A
grim struggle was being waged there, but it was nothing to do with
him.
He would only begin to fight when the British attacked across the
ravine, but their attacks would achieve nothing. The only way into the
Inner Fort was through the gates, and that was impossible. The British
might batter down the first gate with cannon fire, but once through the
arch they would discover that the entranceway turned sharply to the
left, so their gun could not fire through the passage to batter down
the three other doors. They would have to fight their way up the
narrow passage, try to destroy the successive gates with axes, and all
the while his men would be pouring slaughter on them from the flanking
walls.
“Sahib?” Gopal called, and Dodd turned to see that the Jemadar was
pointing up the path that led to the palace. Beny Singh had appeared
on the path, flanked by a servant carrying a parasol to protect the
Killadar from the hot sun.
“Send him up here, Jemadar!” Dodd shouted back.
Dodd felt a quiet exaltation at the neatness of his tactics. Manu
Bappoo was already cut off from safety, and only Beny Singh was now
left as a rival to Dodd’s supremacy. Dodd was tempted to cut the
Killadar down here and now, but the murder would have been witnessed by
members of the garrison who were still loyal to Beny Singh, and so
instead Dodd greeted the Killadar with a respectful bow.
“What’s happening?” Beny Singh demanded. He was breathing hard from
the effort of climbing to the fire step then he cried out in dismay
because the guns on the southern wall of the Outer Fort, those guns
that overlooked the ravine, had suddenly opened fire to pump gouts of
grey white smoke.
“I fear, sahib,” Dodd said, ‘that the enemy are overwhelming the
fort.”
“They’re doing what?” The Killadar, who was dressed for battle in a