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Updated: June 25, 2025
"I've heard of a Gateway of Swords in Kathiapur," Raikes admitted. "Never been there, myself." "Kathiapur?" "A dead city, Mr. Amber, not far away originally the capital of Khandawar. It's over there in the hills to the north, somewhere.
The troopers were squabbling amongst themselves; he was able to make this much out in spite of the fact that the sepoys, recruited exclusively from the native population of Khandawar, spoke a patois of Hindi so corrupt that even an expert in Oriental languages would experience difficulty in trying to interpret it.
"How do you explain it?" "I don't," she replied simply. "Can you?" He was dumb. Could it be possible that this imperial greeting was intended for the man supposed to be the Maharana of Khandawar Har Dyal Rutton? He glanced sharply at the girl, but her face was shadowed; and he believed she suspected nothing. A great hush had fallen, replacing the rolling thunder of the State ordnance.
I claim to be Naraini, Queen, wife to Har Dyal Rutton, rightful ruler of Khandawar coward, traitor, renegade who stands there!" "For the love of Heaven, Rowan, shut her up!" cried Labertouche. "It's all a pack of lies; the woman's raving. Rutton's dead, in the first place; in the second, he's her father. She can't be his wife very well, whether he's alive or dead.
"Perhaps," she suggested, "there's a native potentate arriving at the northern gate. They're very punctilious about their salutes, you know." Another crash silenced her. Amber continued to count. "Twenty-one," he said when it seemed that there was to be no more cannonading. "Isn't that a royal salute?" "Yes," said the girl; "four more guns than the Maharana of Khandawar himself is entitled to."
Have I done aught but serve thee to the end thou dost desire?... Thou shouldst be grateful to me, rather than menace me with thine anger.... And," she added sweetly, "it were well for thee that thou shouldst bear always in mind my intimacy with thy secret. If thou art king, then am I more than queen, in Khandawar." "I am not angry, Naraini," he told her humbly, "but mad with love for thee "
Are the servants of the Body fools who have followed the hither, losing trace of thee no single instant since thou didst slay the Bengali who bore the Token to thee? Am I blind I, Salig Singh, thy childhood's playmate, the Grand Vizier of thy too-brief rule, to whom thou didst surrender the reins of government of Khandawar? I know thee; thou canst not deceive me.
My business here in Khandawar hath concern neither with thee, nor with the State, not yet with the Gateway of Swords of the very name of which I am weary.... Now," and his mouth settled in lines of unmistakable resolve, "I will go; nor do I think that there be any here to stop me." He wheeled about, prepared to fight his way out of the palace, if need be.
Ere any come to disturb us? Nay, but who should come between husband and wife in the first hour of their reunion after many years of separation? Is it not known does not all Khandawar know how I have waited for thee, almost thy widow ere thy wife, all this weary time?... Or is it that thy heart hath forgotten thy child-bride? Am I scorned, O my Lord I, Naraini?
I gave you the word to go on to Darjeeling, intending to join you en route. But you know why that jaunt never came off. I found out my mistake before morning, wired you, and left Calcutta before you, by the same train that conveyed his Majesty the Maharana of Khandawar. Fortunately enough we had Ram Nath already on the ground, working up another case I'll tell you about it some time.
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