The trio reached the end of the corridor and emerged into a garden courtyard. Through a thin screen of trees they could see the flickering glint of torches and Arthur led the way along a tiled path towards the voices of the Nizam and his companions. As they emerged into the lighted area at the heart of the courtyard Arthur sucked in his breath and muttered, ‘Upon my soul . . .’

A dozen dancing girls were swaying to the music played by four men in a small arbour to one side of the open space. The dancing girls were clad only in flimsy loincloths and the flames of the torches glimmered off their bangles and earrings. In front of them, in a semicircle, a group of men sat on low couches and watched the dancers with fixed expressions. In the middle was a couch decorated in gold leaf and studded with jewels.The couch was set on a raised dais and squatting on its richly embroidered cushions was an old man in a loose robe that hung open to reveal a round stomach covered in grey hair. Nestled against his thigh was another young girl, as scantily clad as the dancers, and the man absent-mindedly kneaded one of her breasts as he watched the performance in front of him.

Arthur drew himself up to his full height and nodded to Kirkpatrick, and they marched into the loom of the light cast by the torches. The musicians stopped playing and the dancers ceased their sinuous movement as everyone turned towards the sharp rap of boots crossing the polished tiles of the Nizam’s private pleasure garden. The old man seated on the dais, who Arthur realised must be the Nizam, released the girl’s breast and rose to his feet with a shocked expression. As soon as he caught sight of his chamberlain, his expression became angry and he bellowed at the hapless official. Arthur and Kirkpatrick stopped a short distance in front of him and gave a stiff, formal bow.

‘Captain Kirkpatrick,’ said Arthur.

‘Sir?’

‘You speak the language far better than me, so you can translate what I have to say. Tell the Nizam I wish to speak to him alone.’

As the old man listened to Kirkpatrick his eyes widened in outrage and he snapped something back, clenching his fist and waving it at the two Englishmen.

‘He says, how dare we enter his private quarters, and issue such an outrageous order. He says his chamberlain is a mangy son of a whore who deserves to be torn in two for letting two infidels enter the gardens of his master.’

Arthur ignored the quaking chamberlain, who had dropped to his knees and buried his head in his hands as he muttered a string of appeals for mercy.

‘Tell him to dismiss these people. We must speak to him at once.’