Post by India on Sept 9, 2011 7:25:40 GMT -5
"This weather is terrible," muttered a fellow soldier, trying to light a fire. The wood was wet; the attempt sent up a weak wisp of smoke. The group filed into the tent, opting for shelter over warmth, which wouldn't come till daybreak.
"The weather is the least of our problems," said another soldier, crossly. "Those gujjars are bleeding the traders dry. We're running out of food."
"You eat too much," said the one sitting next to him, and much of the group listening laughed. Arya smiled. While that was true - Muzaffar ate more than two soldiers combined - she didn't feel very well right then, and she had the strangest feeling tugging at her. A premonition?
The soldier sitting next to her, a young man with an easily forgettable name, turned towards her. "You seem a little uneasy, Dev." The anxiety was reasonable. They'd heard rumors of the enemies coming down with visuchika but they were not likely to believe them. They'd had enough with rumors of late - including that bazaar story of the hundred-year rule.
The lightheartedness among the group left, and all of them looked morose for a moment.
"We nearly had it there," said Muzaffar. "We could've won before."
"The try in Jyaisthya?" asked the young man next to Arya. "Unlikely. You see the Sarkar didn't retreat in Asadha, either."
"Jyaisthya was not quite as bad," said Arya, feeling the uneasiness get noticeably worse. "I saw the expressions on their faces. They weren't expecting it." She tried for a confident smile and faltered. Where was that Englishman? He'd mentioned he had some responsibility for the actions of the Company Sarkar, but he'd been conspicuously missing since she'd joined the Rebellion.
Well. She narrowed her eyes. He'd turn up soon enough, like a coin with a dent in it. Just as well she'd joined the ranks here. If she heard one more 'helpful suggestion' she'd explode.
"Ahan," said Muzaffar. "I saw them too. We'll get over this yet. A hundred years, I'm sure, a few days' confusion does not matter."
"Right," said yet another soldier, cracking a sodden stick. "It's either that the Sarkar leaves or the Maharaj does."
"What?" asked the young soldier, alarmed. "What will they do to the Shah?"
Pat came the reply. "You didn't hear of it, did you?" A frown. "The Company sent word to the Maharaj. They told him he'd be the last on the throne, and-"
While the other members of the group tried their best to keep him quiet and hiss down the suggestion - what audacity! - Arya simply pushed her shoulders up and wrapped her arms around herself. That foolishly outspoken soldier had perfectly outlined most of her worries, and she feared it would get only worse from here on.
As if directed beforehand, it started to rain. A few half-hearted drops that soon turned into a deafening chatter on the roof of their tent. Now they'd never be able to light a fire.
'Jyaisthya' and 'Asadha' are months of the Bangla calendar. The soldiers are referring to the uprisings of June 19 and 23 respectively.
"The weather is the least of our problems," said another soldier, crossly. "Those gujjars are bleeding the traders dry. We're running out of food."
"You eat too much," said the one sitting next to him, and much of the group listening laughed. Arya smiled. While that was true - Muzaffar ate more than two soldiers combined - she didn't feel very well right then, and she had the strangest feeling tugging at her. A premonition?
The soldier sitting next to her, a young man with an easily forgettable name, turned towards her. "You seem a little uneasy, Dev." The anxiety was reasonable. They'd heard rumors of the enemies coming down with visuchika but they were not likely to believe them. They'd had enough with rumors of late - including that bazaar story of the hundred-year rule.
The lightheartedness among the group left, and all of them looked morose for a moment.
"We nearly had it there," said Muzaffar. "We could've won before."
"The try in Jyaisthya?" asked the young man next to Arya. "Unlikely. You see the Sarkar didn't retreat in Asadha, either."
"Jyaisthya was not quite as bad," said Arya, feeling the uneasiness get noticeably worse. "I saw the expressions on their faces. They weren't expecting it." She tried for a confident smile and faltered. Where was that Englishman? He'd mentioned he had some responsibility for the actions of the Company Sarkar, but he'd been conspicuously missing since she'd joined the Rebellion.
Well. She narrowed her eyes. He'd turn up soon enough, like a coin with a dent in it. Just as well she'd joined the ranks here. If she heard one more 'helpful suggestion' she'd explode.
"Ahan," said Muzaffar. "I saw them too. We'll get over this yet. A hundred years, I'm sure, a few days' confusion does not matter."
"Right," said yet another soldier, cracking a sodden stick. "It's either that the Sarkar leaves or the Maharaj does."
"What?" asked the young soldier, alarmed. "What will they do to the Shah?"
Pat came the reply. "You didn't hear of it, did you?" A frown. "The Company sent word to the Maharaj. They told him he'd be the last on the throne, and-"
While the other members of the group tried their best to keep him quiet and hiss down the suggestion - what audacity! - Arya simply pushed her shoulders up and wrapped her arms around herself. That foolishly outspoken soldier had perfectly outlined most of her worries, and she feared it would get only worse from here on.
As if directed beforehand, it started to rain. A few half-hearted drops that soon turned into a deafening chatter on the roof of their tent. Now they'd never be able to light a fire.
'Jyaisthya' and 'Asadha' are months of the Bangla calendar. The soldiers are referring to the uprisings of June 19 and 23 respectively.