The War Chest Read Online Free

Spice Market, Horne noticed a young boy of eight or nine years following them along the dusty street, sometimes pushing his way ahead of them in the crowd. Horne did not mention the boy’s presence to Jingee, wanting to see first if he might merely be a pedlar’s scout.
    As the street levelled at the top of the hill, the stalls of the spice merchants became interspersed with those of gem and precious metal dealers, turbaned men whose ground-cloths were strewn with gold and silver jewellery hammered into a variety of designs, or a glittering array of garnets, pearls, rubies, sapphires and jade. Horne wondered how many of the stones were real and how many were sham, worth less than a nutmeg.
    As they passed the last of the gem dealers, a pedlar fell instep with them, whispering in English, ‘Captain, you want to buy rubies?’
    Jingee waved his hand. ‘Go away.’
    The pedlar was tall and broad-shouldered, and he persisted, ‘Captain, you want to buy the Grand Moghul’s rubies?’
    ‘Go away!’ hissed Jingee.
    ‘I give you my word,’ promised the pedlar. ‘These rubies come from the royal city of Agra. From the Grand Moghul’s Diwan-i-am. ’
    Horne looked at the pedlar, a tall, black-skinned man with a white cloth pulled across the lower half of his face from the back of his turban, a black-and-brown-striped kaftan falling over his towering body.
    Keeping pace with Horne, the pedlar lowered the cloth from his face, a big grin flashing a line of white teeth.
    ‘Jud!’
    Tall and thick-chested, Jud was an African from Oman with a face that looked as if it had been sculpted from ebony. He raised one arm in mock military salute, barking, ‘Captain Horne … sir !’
    Horne replied with a quick snap of the arm.
    All three men laughed.
    Jingee, a midget alongside Jud, looked up at the African, explaining, ‘We were coming to find you in the Temple.’
    Jud shook his head. ‘Oh, you would not have found me at the Temple today, little friend. The priests heard about a press gang and decided I’d attract too much attention. They gave me these clothes and told me to lose myself in the bazaar.’
    Horne shook his head. ‘You’d be safer at sea, Jud.’
    ‘Say the word, Captain, and I’m ready.’
    ‘Tonight? Tomorrow?’
    ‘Sir, you are serious!’
    ‘Absolutely.’
    ‘The Company’s assigned you a ship, sir?’
    ‘Not yet, Jud. We sail as far as Madagascar on an Indiaman. We receive further instructions at Port Diego-Suarez .’
    Seeing a crowd collecting around them in the marketplace , Horne suggested, ‘Let’s keep walking. I’ll explain as we go.’
    The three men continued along the dusty street; the shops and stalls became fewer, being replaced by warehouses and sheds roofed with red tiles. The small native boy was still following them, Horne noticed, but he did not inform his companions about the tag-along child. Instead he proceeded to explain the plan to board the Unity between now and tomorrow morning’s daybreak.
    ‘Captain sahib, we are here.’ Jingee pointed at a pair of tall, iron-studded doors. ‘This is where Kiro meets his students.’
    Moving up to the doors, Jingee opened one with a slight push and stepped back for Horne and Jud to pass in front of him.
    Beyond lay a great hall with a high ceiling covered with rattan. In the middle of the earth floor, two young boys, wooden poles gripped in both hands, were battling with one another, their feet dancing across the floor, the hollow clank of the poles echoing in the cavernous room.
    Beside the boys moved Kiro, a sinewy Japanese in his mid-twenties, his black hair clipped short to his head, wearing a pair of long, wide white pants and a red band twisted round his forehead. Stepping from one leg to the other, he shouted, clapped his hands, whistled and grunted at the boys.
    When he spotted the three visitors at the door, he motioned for the two students to continue without him, then crossed the dirt floor and bowed low to Horne, rising