Except that in this land, nothing was beyond belief. Suneyla had once told him of Ravana, the great King of Lanka, who on finding the mountain of Kailasa barring the way of his chariot, asked the mighty peak to step aside for him; and when the mighty peak, as the abode of Shiva, refused, he climbed from his chariot and of his own strength lifted the mountain clear. And when he, Hervey, replied that it was a fine mythos, she’d protested that it was truth.

So he must trust in the lord at Fort William, and do his duty. And as soon as he’d satisfied himself that Worsley and his half-troop were quartered safely and comfortably, therefore, he’d set off for the palace with the largest party he dared – Georgiana and Annie with their two ayahs, Serjeant Acton and Corporal Johnson, Fairbrother and St Alban, with the baboo, two orderly dragoons and half a dozen bearers and syces.

As that first time, when he’d worn the aiglets of an aide-de-camp and the two Bath stars of a captain, they were met by the rissaldar of the Ranee’s bodyguard at the foot of the droog, the great earth ramp that led – over the drawbridge – to the inner bailey. Here they dismounted to be borne ceremoniously by palanquin to the turreted gates commanding the ascent, where, as also on that first occasion, they observed the customary propitiatory offering to Pollear, the protecting deity of pilgrims and travellers. One of the bearers silently unwound his turban, gave one end to the other bearer, and then they stood either side to bar entrance. Hervey placed some silver into their palms before passing over the lowered cloth and through the portals into the courtyard.

He’d no more idea now than when he’d first been carried up, why it was the custom, and imagined that neither had the rissaldar or the bearers. Things were done in India because they’d always been done, and anything that involved silver passing from one hand to another was doubly cherished.

The rissaldar spoke no English – by choice or otherwise he couldn’t tell – but the baboo was at hand. The Ranee had been visiting with the Raj Kumaree of Nagpore, he explained, and would be returning tomorrow. Meanwhile the household was at the service of her guests, adding that he and the other officers of the rissalah, the bodyguard’s cavalry troop, would be hunting pig soon after sunrise and that Hervey and his guests were most welcome to join them. Hervey thanked the rissaldar in as much Hindoostanee as he could fluently muster – he knew it was a besetting fault of his, to be averse to making mistakes – and said he’d be delighted to. The khansamah and a small army of servants showed them their quarters, arranged baths and told them of their evening’s fare and entertainment.

They were being treated royally, of that there was no doubt. Hervey wondered if it were by command of the Ranee herself or by her dewan. Perhaps it didn’t much matter; an embassy from the Company would hardly be treated with discourtesy, no matter how ill-disposed the host.