Chapter Text
“Special Advisor from the Nizam to see you, sir.”
Edward looked up from his papers as the man walked in, and didn’t bother hiding his grimace. “I got your message, and squeezed out the time. Don’t get into the habit of insisting on meetings at such short notice-”
“Where is the Gond Protector now?” The man snapped.
Edward blinked. “At the prison, awaiting his execution scheduled in 36 hours,” he answered automatically, then checked himself. “Do watch your tone, sir. I will not be spoken-”
“Your deal with my Lord was that he would remanded into our custody.”
“That was when we thought we’d be apprehending a rat, conspiring on the streets. Before he gate-crashed the Governor’s party and unleashed a literal horde on his guests. Do you know how many British men and women died that night? Or later, how many good officers died because of the riot he provoked yesterday?”
“My sincere condolences,” replied the diplomat in a tone that was dripping with insincerity. “But it is imperative that the man is not killed.”
“Why ever not?” Edward snapped. “I’m sorry that the Nizam won’t get the joy of torturing his old enemy but I’m sure we can compensate for that in some other manner…”
“No, you can not!” The man snapped, his voice rising to a yell.
Edward stiffened, as did the watchful guard in the room, his hand reaching for his holster.
The diplomat forced an easy smile over his strained features. “I must speak to the Governor at once.”
At this Edward laughed. “That is impossible. You know the protocol. You speak to me-”
“What I have to tell him cannot be shared with anyone else. It is a matter of great secrecy and urgency.”
“Well then you’ll have to include me in your circle of trust because it will take weeks for you to clear a private audience between the Governor and the Nizam. That is the only one of” your kind, was on the tip of his lips but he filtered it before he made a diplomatic faux pas “sufficient status that he will receive.”
The diplomat’s lips thinned. Edward’s unuttered phrase might as well have been spoken out loud.
“Fine, I will tell you. But what I say must not leave this room.” He glanced at the guard pointedly.
Edward shook his head. “Absolutely not. My man stays at all times.”
“You cannot defend yourself against an old man like me?” The other man said with open scorn, choosing apparently to throw away diplomacy. “Are you that much of a coward?”
Edward resisted the urge to reach over the table and slap the man.
But the barb struck. He nodded to the guard. “Leave us for ten minutes.”
“But sir-”
“Now!”
Frowning deeply, the guard gave a smart salute, then walked out, shutting the door behind him.
Warily, Edward eyed the old diplomat. “The room is ours.”
The man frowned deeply, looking almost disappointed that he had no other choice but to reveal this secret now.
“Remember when I told you that the Gond protector was no ordinary man?”
Don’t I remember, Edward thought with a frown, remembering how a chill had worked up his spine at the man’s ominous words, piercing through his initial amusement at the idea of a tribal going up against the English army.
Now that amusement had completely vanished.
The Gond had come for his tribes-girl, and had been willing to kill every high-ranking Englishman or woman that stood in his path.
What if he’d been aiming for more than a rescue? What if he’d been aiming at the Governor himself?
It was a thought that Edward knew others shared, and were unwilling to speak. Especially as it didn’t escape anyone’s notice that the only one who had been able to stop this… Bheem … had been another Indian.
“I meant that it more ways than one.”
It took Edward a moment to understand the diplomat. “Yes, we learned the hard way not to overestimate these tribals. Did you come all the way here just to say, I told you so?”
“No, I did not. I came here to remind you that we asked you that in exchange for our information and some concessions, you were to immediately hand him over to the Nizam.”
“After what he did, the Governor wanted to make an example of him.”
“So you put him on a podium and flogged him. And a mob almost burned down the city.”
Edward flushed with embarrassment and no small rage at the memory. “A miscalculation. The people’s reaction was unanticipated.”
“Have you wondered why?”
Edward frowned, annoyed. “Who can predict how the barbarians react?”
The diplomat sneered. “The barbarians show loyalty to their own rebel leaders. This man was a tribal, an out-of-towner, and even though he’d been in Delhi for a year, how many friends or people would have known or cared for him?” When Edward shrugged, his hand fisted in an unexpected show of frustration. “You’ve had public floggings before. You’ve flogged men with greater influence over the masses. This didn’t happen. What changed?”
“They didn’t sing through torture for one,” Edward snapped, exasperated. “What does it matter?”
This time the man did roll his eyes. “You said the Governor needed to make an example of him. How did that work out?”
Edward slammed his fist on the table. “Enough! Either tell me this top-secret information about this man or stop wasting my time.”
The man glared back, for a long moment. Then visibly backed down with a sigh.
“I will tell you. And when I finish, you will pass it to the Governor immediately.”
“Fair enough,” Edward lied. He would choose to do with the information as he saw fit, but he wanted this discussion to end quickly.
The old man looked like he didn’t believe him, but was resigned to accept the terms regardless.
“Before I begin. Firstly, tell me what you know about Omegas?”