The Parchment Map: I

By P K Karayi

A severely injured Major Brian Stewart of the British Indian Army finds a parchment map from the slain  Sardar Madhav Rao, of the Holkar family, during 1857, the  first  freedom war of India against the British occupiers. 

With notes and markings of the nearly extinct Maratha 'Modhi' script, the Parchment Map leads to the  treasure buried by the legendary Maratha Navy Chief Kanhoji Angre. 

A futurologist Dr. Abdul Hamid predicts that Major Brian will inherit or obtain a lot of money, meet a wonderful lady and the two will chart out a new and satisfying life in the foreseeable future.

Soon Brian meets  curvaceous Annette Bouchier and the duo follow the trail of the parchment map.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Frontier India
• Release date: Sep 10, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386690191

Book preview

The Parchment Map

––––––––

Frontier India Adventure Book Series I

Copyright © 2018 Frontier India Technology

ISBN: 9788193869000

All rights reserved.

Published by

Frontier India Technology

No 22, 4th Floor, MK Joshi Building, Devi Chowk, Shastri Nagar,

Dombivli West, Maharashtra, India. 421202

http://frontierindia.biz

The views expressed in this book are those of the author and not at all of the publisher. The publisher is not responsible for the views of the author and authenticity of the data, in any way whatsoever. Cataloging / listing of this book for re-sale purpose can be done, only by the authorised companies.  Cataloging /listing or sale by unauthorized distributors / bookshops /booksellers etc., is strictly prohibited and will be legally prosecuted.  All disputes are subject to Thane, Mumbai jurisdiction only.

Contents

The Battle and the Map

Khan the Palmist

Snakes can be loving

Gaming the Man eaters

A team for a treasure hunt

Falling head over heels

Angre’s Treasure

Off to Poona

Rachel

The Plotting

The Mystic

A Mantra for the Tantra

Treasured

The Battle and the Map

Resplendent in his scarlet uniform, despite the rivulets of perspiration streaming down his face and under his tunic, Major Brian Stewart kept a watchful eye on the horizon. Occasionally, he had to screw his eyes as the harsh tropical sun presented a mirage of eerie shapes of dancing dervishes in the distant horizon prompted partially by the heat and a sense of worry for any possible ambush from the mutineers. He also cast an occasional glance at his uniform and gold – braided aiguillettes which had lost some of its glamour and was encrusted with particles of sand and dust—-—the swirling, eddying, powdery dust so typical of the hot, scorching North Indian summer.

It was a time of great unrest in India in the wake of the 1857 Mutiny, spearheaded by die hard, brave Indian nationalists like Nana Phadnis, Tantia Tope, the Maharani of Jhansi and many other potentates. The Mutiny, which erupted at Meerut on 10th May 1857, had spread to Delhi which fell on 11th May. The fiery conflagration had quickly spread to Cawnpore, Lucknow, Oudh, Jhansi and other places. The British forces had suffered a few nasty reverses followed by bloody massacres of English men, women and children. There were similar reprisals by the British forces of mass hangings of the mutineers. 

It was in this hostile and troubled environment that Major Brian Stewart was riding on his white charger at the head of his column consisting of the 5th Queen’s Fusiliers supported by a detachment of the 14th Native Infantry Regiment. The column was heading towards Bibiganj to join the other British forces advancing to the relief of the entrenched British garrison at Cawnpore.

As Major Brian’s troops were nearing Alambagh, hordes of mutineers with their swords and sabers held aloft, poured in from all sides with blood-curdling cries of ‘Kill the firangis’, the local pseudonym for the white European race. This sudden ambush, Brian realized, was obviously a well-planned, premeditated ambush.

Outnumbered as they were, the small British force supported by the native infantry had no option except to dig in and possibly out manoeuvre the mutineers. The buglers from the 5th Queen’s Fusiliers gave the call to arms and both forces were engaged in fierce combat. In the meanwhile Major Stewart dispatched one of his trusted men, Abdul Khan to get reinforcements from a British cavalry regiment at Sitapur some thirty miles away.

In the ongoing unequal combat, Brian saw Lt. Peter Anderson being killed by the mutineers. Although fighting courageously he had used his sword and pistol to good effect by killing at least a dozen men from the attacking force before making the supreme sacrifice. Major Brian Stewart, who in the meanwhile was surrounded on all sides in the thick of the fighting, was thrusting with his sword to the right and the left in quick movements dodging an enemy spear or dagger. He was simultaneously using his pistol to good effect as though he had a charmed life. In the meanwhile Brian noticed one of the mutineers who was deadly in his swordsmanship. He sported a smile of sheer superiority and a total disdain for the firangis. Ruggedly handsome and fair complexioned, he was apparently the leader of the rebel force. Brian felt that judging from the attire of the swordsman that he was apparently the scion of one of the native royal families. He was riding a handsome black charger and wielded his sword in dexterous, swift circular movements slashing at the British forces with a rare degree of accuracy. He was clad in silk with a richly embroidered turban encrusted with rubies, pearls and other precious stones. He sported a large gold amulet around his neck depicting the Indian goddess Durga Devi, which perhaps was in the nature of a protecting talisman. The mutineers seemed to derive a great deal of zest and boost to their morale fighting side by side with their flamboyant leader.

Seeing Brian, whom he recognized instantaneously as the leader of the British force, the rebel leader kicked in his spurs and turned his horse sideways cutting his way to face Major Brian Stewart. With overbearing confidence, he slashed at Brian with his sword, which the British officer deflected with a smartly executed sideways counter-swipe. He had a personal score to settle with Brian who had wounded him and defeated his force of mutineers in an earlier encounter. He was out to wreak his vengeance on the firangi officer. While this thrust and parry swordplay was on, Major Brian Stewart noticed the miniature flag of the princely state of Holkar on his opponent’s charger and recognized him as the notorious Sardar Madhav Rao whose fame as a courageous and ruthless swordsman had figured in the ‘Intelligence Dispatches’ from the operational British headquarters.

In the ongoing skirmish with the astute Maratha swordsman, there were a few close calls as both swordsmen were experts in the parry and swipe manoeuvres and it was a matter of time as to who would be the eventual victor. And as it happened, the intense summer heat had taken its toll on the perspiring firangi Major-sab, whose movements had become slightly sluggish. Brian attempted to dodge a vicious thrust, which in the process of being deflected missed his neck but penetrated his left shoulder. Thanks to his dexterity, Brian realized that this thrust from his opponent could have been almost fatal. With the excruciating pain and the gushing flow of blood giving a dark crimson hue to his uniform, Brian realized that he could not continue this jousting session unless somebody came to his rescue.

It was fortunate that at this stage, Risaldar Major Akbar Khan seeing the desperate plight of his commanding officer, gave a piercing yell and took on Brian’s formidable opponent. Risaldar Major Akbar Khan lunged at Sardar Madhav Rao, which the rebel leader deflected contemptuously with a sarcastic smile.

Brian looked around with dismay as he saw his largely outnumbered force being gradually decimated by the hordes of mutineers pouring in from all sides. Many of the mutineers were killed by the British cannons on the flanks manned by Ensign John Edwards and Roger Smith. The sound of an explosion from an enemy canon propelled Brian’s charger to take fright and he galloped away from the battlefield with the supine figure of his master in the saddle.

The horse went at a sharp pace and with an instinctive sixth sense to save his Master; he managed to climb a crest leading to a clump of trees leading into the forest taking a turn to the left away from the field of battle. After a while, Brian dismounted with great difficulty and holding on to the saddle for support, he took his two pistols and shoved them into his tunic. He also ensured that his ammunition pouch and his two daggers remained fastened to his belt. Brian then shooed away his horse and surveying the surrounding trees, he crawled forward to a slightly higher ground and settled down under a tall peepal tree. Here he rested in a semi supine position against the tree. This gave him adequate cover as well as an all-round view of anybody approaching his hideout from any direction. The occasional whiff of cool breeze was in the nature of a welcome elixir to his tormented body. He cocked the two pistols shoving them under his right thigh for an easy draw at short notice. He then took a swig of precious water from his chagal wiping his mouth and face with his right arm. The flow of blood from his arm had reduced a little. Brian undid the bandanna around his neck, his lucky talisman, which had saved his life in several close encounters. He wound a tourniquet around his shoulder as best he could to staunch the further flow of blood.

After barely a few minutes, Brian heard the neighing of a horse and the sound of hooves coming towards his hideout. He quickly rechecked his pistols with the safety-catch back and slid them under his right thigh with his finger twirled around the trigger. As Brian expected, the horseman was none other than his erstwhile swarthy opponent Sardar Madhav Rao. He in turn recognized Brian, a vicious smile puckering his face, his mouth lascivating like a leopard ready for the kill. He dismounted from his horse leisurely under the impression that his firangi enemy was grievously injured and totally helpless and weak to offer any semblance of resistance.

Sardar Madhav Rao drew his sword and with a wicked smile playing about his face, he advanced towards Brian.

In heavily accented English, he spat out, At long last I have got you, the great much-acclaimed and distinguished Major Brian Stewart. He licked his lips lasciviously once again with the same cruel smile enveloping his entire face.

You bloody firangi; I knew you were seriously wounded. I saw you galloping away lying totally helpless in a supine position on your horse. Still smiling, and adopting a mocking tone, he added I am surprised to see that you are alive as I expected that the hordes of jackals in the area would have by now enjoyed a superb banquet of firangi meat

Sword in hand, he shook his head from side to side in a simulated stance of sheer pity enjoyed this cat and mouse game induced by a quixotic sadistic pleasure. Looking at his supine adversary Madhav Rao commented, You see Major Brian Stewart, Goddess Durga Devi must have felt  that I, Sardar Madhav Rao from the noble house of Holkar must have the honour of killing you as a retribution for all the misdeeds of the firangis. Moving forward with his sword raised, Sardar Madhav Rao was on the point of bringing down his sword for the final kill. And then in a swift movement for which he was well prepared, Major Brian Stewart fired three bullets into his enemy at point blank range. Two of the bullets hit his adversary’s heart and head. With a helpless and blood-curdling cry Madhav Rao clutched at his heart but summoning the last ounce of strength plunged his sword downwards. Anticipating this, Brian rolled over quickly sideways and Madhav Rao’s sword plunged into the ground where moments before, his firangi enemy was lying. To ensure that his enemy was dead, Brian crawled forward cautiously and pumped three more bullets into his enemy.

Brian took a few deep breaths followed by a swig of water from his chagal and offered a short prayer to God for saving his life. Thereafter he searched the tunic of his slain enemy for any papers or documents indicating the future battle plans of the rebel forces. He found six pouches of gold coins with the government treasury seal on them. With great difficulty and sheer willpower, Brian was able to stand up holding on to the saddle of Madhav Rao’s horse. He found two other bags, which contained currency notes, diamonds and other precious stones apart from two longish daggers encrusted with rubies and other precious stones. He surmised that part of this was perhaps looted from one of the native palaces or the government treasuries.

Interestingly, Brian had also found a parchment map in the inner pocket of Madhav Rao’s tunic. It had certain notes and markings in the ‘Modhi’ script of the Marathas. On a cursory perusal of the parchment map, it seemed to be about some underground treasury or maybe an underground vault. Brian shoved the parchment map into the inner pocket of his tunic as there were more urgent matters concerning his safety, if any of the mutineers were to go looking around for their leader. As a first step, he reloaded his pistols and then got back to his place under the tree where he would be safe from the hordes of wild animals in the vicinity. Having smelt the tang of blood, they would soon be on the prowl.

More worrying was shifting the body of his dead enemy, which he was incapable of doing considering his depleted strength and stamina.

Just as these thoughts were going through his mind, Brian heard a rustling sound and faint footsteps from the right side of his hideout. The footsteps stopped, began again getting a little closer and then