"Land ahoy! Land ahoy!"

Shouts came from up in the crow's nest, announcing the presence of land. However, they were completely unnecessary. With a gloomy face, I stared at the horizon far ahead. From down here on the deck, the land itself might not be visible yet—but the smoke rising from the land most definitely was. I could practically smell the odour of war in the air.

Heavy footsteps approached and, moments later, the bulky figure of Karim appeared beside me at the railing.

"It has begun."

"Isn't this a bit coincidental?" Frowning, I stared at the clouds of smoke above the horizon. "Why would there be troops rebelling just at the spot where we want to make landfall?"

Karim snorted. "I doubt very much that those are troops. Do you think the sepoys are the only ones chafing under the rule of the East India Company? No, their fate was a relatively kind one in comparison to other people. After all, sepoys are the tools used by the company to suppress the entire continent, and they are still treated relatively well. The common people, on the other hand..."

Karim's face darkened, and he didn't finish the sentence. There wasn't really any need to, though.

"So..." I started in a faux-cheerful voice. "How do you think they will receive three friendly visitors from Britain?"

Karim gave me a look. Previously, I had thought my husband was the unchallenged champion of conveying meaning with silent looks, but right then, Karim almost matched him.

"Ehem...so, we're not just going ashore as we are, then."

"Most certainly not," a cool voice came from behind me. "Which makes it rather fortunate that I have made preparations."

Turning around, I saw Mr Ambrose approach with several colourful costumes in hand, as well as...was that a fake beard?

"So..." Lips twitching, I picked up the giant monstrosity of a beard and held it up to Mr Rikkard Ambrose's face. The picture he presented was...interesting. "You're going to wear this?"

"If the alternative is being lynched?" His icy eyes tried to bore holes into the hands that were holding the massive beard to his face. "Indeed."

I snickered, and my smile widened—until I noticed something he was carrying, and said smile froze.

"Mr Ambrose?"

"Yes, Mrs Ambrose?"

"Why are there three beards?"

He cocked his head. "I believe you are familiar with crossdressing. The answer should be rather obvious, should it not?"

I took a step back. "No. Oh no, no, no."

"Yes."

"No. No, I won't."

"Yes. Yes, you definitely will."

"No. No, there's no way! There's no way you can persuade me to do this!"

"Oh," my dear husband told me, "I am not the one who is going to persuade you."

Then he stepped aside, revealing the door to Adaira's cabin, which opened at this very moment.

***

Adaira yawned and muttered a curse. Today was the day of arrival, and she had promised herself to wake up early! But then, she had ended up unable to sleep for most of the night—and now, judging by the light streaming in through the porthole, she had overslept.

Enough time wasted! Let's get going!

Filled with determination, she leapt up from the bed—then suddenly froze.

Oh my God. Have I been infected by my brother?

After a moment, she quickly shook her head. No, surely not! She was just anxious about James. She definitely wasn't going to become a time-obsessed workaholic! She would make sure of it!

Now, enough time wasted! She had to get to work right away!

Slipping on her dress and shoes, Adaira hurriedly buttoned up and strode forward to push open the door...

"—no way! There's no way you can persuade me to do this!"

...only to be faced with a strange scene. Lilly was slowly retreating away from her brother, and he was advancing on her, like some kind of wicked villain who wanted to take advantage of a helpless damsel. When they noticed her, they turned around, eyeing her with funny expressions on their faces. Well...Karim and Lilly had funny expressions on their faces. Her brother had no expression on his face whatsoever, but that was normal. What was less normal was what he was holding in his hand. Were those...black bushes?

"Ah, Adaira." Nodding, her brother stepped forward. "You came just at the right time. I need your help with something."

For some reason, at those words, Lilly retreated a few more steps and hid behind Karim, who seemed to find the whole situation supremely amusing.

"Help?" Adaira blinked, taken aback. "What do you need me to do?"

"It's simple." He raised his hands, and the black thing in his hand unfurled. Only then did she realise what it truly was. "I want you to put this on."

"Err...no. No way in hell!"

Behind her brother, Adaira saw Lilly's shoulder sag in relief. Truth be told, she couldn't blame her. That thing was not a beard, it was a monstrosity of massive ugliness! Never in her life would she put on something like—

"It will help save Captain Carter."

—on the other hand, never mind.

"Of course! I'm happy to help!" Snatching the fake beard, she plastered the thing to her face and struck a pose. "How do I look?"

"Horrific," her brother instantly answered.

Adaira speared him with a look. "How did you find a wife again?"

"Why don't you ask her herself?" he gestured at what was visible of Lilly's figure behind Karim.

To be honest, Adaira really wanted to. But, right now, there was a more urgent matter to discuss with her sister-in-law. With a pleading expression on her face, Adaira turned to Lilly.

"Lilly, could you..."

"Absolutely not!"

On second thoughts, maybe the pleading expression would work better without the fake beard plastered to her face.

Heck! Now it's too late anyway.

Stepping forward, Adaira clasped her hands together.

"Please?"

"No!"

"Please, Lilly? For me?"

"No!"

"But if this is the only way..."

"No! I've done a lot of things to dress up as a man. I've tied up my kettle drums, I've stuffed my trousers with socks. But I will not wear a beard bigger than Karim's. That is my bottom line."

"But..."

"And don't give me those puppy-dog eyes! It's not going to work."

"Really?" One corner of Adaira's mouth quirked up. Immediately, she stepped a little closer, widened her eyes in innocence and did her very best impersonation of a puppy dog.

***

Roughly ten minutes later...

"Bloody stinking hell! Shipload full of filthy crap!"

Why, you may ask, was I cursing like a drunken sailor? Because at this very moment, I was standing at the railing of the ship, dressed in bright, colourful clothes, with a fake tan on my face and a beard on my chin that would have made Merlin cry in envy. Next to me stood a certain bodyguard, who was working very hard to maintain his customary stoic expression.

"Not. A. Word."

"I wouldn't dare, Sahiba."

"No smiling, either. Or snickering."

"Well..."

Before he could say something I would make him regret, he was interrupted by the appearance of Mr Ambrose and Adaira. At least I hoped it was Mr Ambrose and Adaira, because if it wasn't, we had just been joined by a tanned Father Christmas and his younger brother.

The tanned father Christmas gave Karim a look straight from his home at the north pole.

"Tell me, Karim..."

"Yes, Sahib?"

"Is there any reason that, of all the beards you acquired for this journey, I received the largest, whitest one?"

"It must be pure coincidence, Sahib."

"Indeed?"

"Indeed, Sahib."

"Sir!" Just then, a sailor approached and stood to attention. "The dinghy has been prepared, and everything is ready for your departure! Are you sure you don't want some armed men to accompany you?"

Mr Ambrose glanced at Karim, but the bodyguard shook his head. "We're heading into a land with hundreds of thousands of rebels on the loose and out for revenge. A few more men won't make much difference, Sahib. It's better to keep a low profile."

"You heard the man." Mr Ambrose gave the sailor a curt nod. "Lead the way!"

"Aye aye, Sir!"

Immediately, the sailor turned around and strode off across the deck. As we followed in his wake, I leaned over towards Mr Ambrose and whispered, "If we're supposed to keep a low profile, wouldn't it be better if we went at night? That way, we could go ashore without anyone spotting us."

Without a word, he pointed towards the shore. I followed his stretched-out arm with my gaze, only to see nothing but a few rocks peeking out of the water.

Wait a minute...rocks?

"Going ashore at night might not be the best idea, Mrs Ambrose. Keeping a low profile does not mean bottom-of-the-sea low."

"Err...yes." I swallowed. "I guess that makes sense. And the reason we're going ashore at such a difficult spot is...?"

"Would you prefer a nice harbour with lots of armed rebels?"

Bloody hell. Much as I did not like to admit it, he had a good point.

"We're heading into a dangerous land, Mrs Ambrose." Reaching out, he touched my cheek. It would probably have been a tender and caring gesture if there hadn't been a fake beard in the way. "Be careful."

"You, too." Gently brushing a kiss against his bristles, I gave him a fierce hug. "Be careful. I...I don't want anything to happen to your magnificent new beard."

"Likewise." The look he gave me said things he only rarely spoke out loud. "I would be very displeased if something were to happen to you...r beard."

Then, with a last squeeze of my hand, he turned and climbed into the dinghy. A moment later, he was joined by Karim, myself, and Adaira, who was sporting a magnificently massive fork beard, and seemed rather too excited about that fact.

"Ready, Sir?" The sailor appeared at the railing with worry written all over his face. Unfortunately, I didn't think his spelling was incorrect.

Mr Ambrose glanced over at me. Or was it at Adaira sitting right beside me? "Are you sure about this?"

We ladies exchanged a last glance. The determination in Adaira's eyes was unmistakable. I turned back to Mr Ambrose. "Yes."

"Then yes." He gave a curt nod to the sailor. "Ready."

An instant later, the boat jerked, and began to descend towards the ocean.

Splash!

"Shh!"

"Sorry, Ma'am. Good luck!"

"All right, all right." Scanning the shore for anyone who might have seen or heard, I waved at the sailor. "Let's just hope nobody heard us. Karim, grab that oar, and give me the other one."

"Sahiba...you know how to row?"

"Naturally. I'm a big, strong man! Can't you see my beard?" Apparently, he couldn't think of a retort to that, so I simply snatched the nearest oar and thrust the other one into his hand. "Now, stop wasting time and start rowing!"

Soon, we were on our way towards the shore. Adaira lent me her strength, and with her vigorous rowing, we were just able to remain on par with the strength of the massive tree trunks that were Karim's arms. Mr Ambrose knelt at the rear of the boat, holding the rudder. Together, we made swift progress—although, judging by the determination in Adaira's eyes (which were the only thing visible of her face behind the massive beard) she might well have been able to do it on her own. It wasn't long before the four of us approached the golden-yellow beach.

"So," I panted, scanning the coast ahead for possible dangers. "What's the plan once we are ashore?"

"I still have a few agents in India who are keeping their heads down," Mr Ambrose told me. "I instructed them to leave horses for us along the coast at various locations. One of them should be up ahead behind a small clump of trees, with the horses hidden in a shed. Once we find it, we—"

"Um, Mr Ambrose..." I swallowed, staring at the horizon. "In which direction is that shed?"

"It should be north-east of here. Why?"

"Because I'm wondering...that direction over there wouldn't happen to be north-east, would it?" Lifting an arm, I pointed in the direction where, earlier, we had seen clouds of smoke rising, and where grey fumes were still drifting up from between the trees.

Mr Ambrose followed my outstretched arm with his eyes. There was a moment of silence. Then...

"Yes."

"Well, crap."

"Mrs Ambrose?"

"Yes?"

"Curse less, row faster!"

"Yes, Sir!"

By the time we hit the shore, my arms burned like fire. Luckily, my legs were still fine. Because the moment the boat's keel met the sand, Mr Ambrose leapt ashore and dashed up the beach, revolver in hand.

"Move!" he barked.

"Shouldn't we be more careful when approaching?"

"Delhi is over seven-hundred miles from here! If we don't get those horses, we'll be sitting ducks in enemy territory. Now move!"

"Thousands of...good God, how did our measly little island ever conquer this place?!"

Karim snorted. "I ask myself the same question every day."

"And?"

"Haven't found an answer yet."

With that, he disappeared into the underbrush at the end of the beach. Pulling out two guns from under the seat, I threw one to Adaira.

"Here. When the time comes, don't hesitate."

"Don't worry." Cocking her gun, Adaira climbed out of the boat. "I won't."

Mimicking her, I also cocked my revolver, and, together, we ducked into the bushes. It wasn't long before the smell of smoke hit my nostrils, and...was that the odour of burned flesh?

Bloody hell!

Ducking further down, I hurried my steps. Adaira must have smelled it too, because she kept pace with me. Not before long, I had caught up with Mr Ambrose and Karim, who were hunkered down behind the trunk of a massive tree, peering out into a clearing—or rather, what was left of it. What formerly had probably been an idyllic forest clearing with a rustic shed in the centre, was now a mess of charred wood and shattered splinters. And most importantly?

There were no horses.

Not a single one.

"Blast!" I slammed a fist against the tree. "What the hell happened here?"

Mr Ambrose stiffened, and his hand flew to his gun. "I think we're about to find out."

"What do you mea—"

I never finished that sentence. It was cut off half-way by the harsh voice shouting in Punjabi right behind me.

"Hey, you! What are you doing there?"

***

Captain James Carter stood atop the podium, staring down at the three Bengal regiments marching through the streets below him, accompanied by cheerful music, and tried his best to maintain the rictus smile on his face. Leaning over, he muttered out of the corner of his mouth, "Your Lordship, did you not say you wished for me to defend the city? Do you really think this is the best way?"

"Naturally!" With a firm nod, Dalgliesh let his proud gaze sweep over the parade of sepoys. "Before we face the troops outside, we first have to take firm control of the inside. It's best to let these savages know who is in charge here!"

The smile became even stiffer. "Really? Because I'm rather concerned they'll soon figure out who is really in charge here."

"What did you say?"

"Nothing, Your Lordship. Nothing at all."

Two sharp, steel-blue eyes inspected him from the side. "Hm. Very well. Now get to it and start your speech!"

"My speech. You mean...that speech you had me memorise before?"

"Yes."

"Are you certain, Your Lordship?"

"Yes! Now get on with it!"

"As you wish, My Lord."

Taking a deep breath, Captain Carter stepped forward, ready to give a rousing speech to motivate his troops to defend this city to the last breath. There were just two little problems with that:

1. Why the heck should they defend the city from their own people?

2. The speech was written by Lord Dalgliesh.

Squaring his shoulders, the captain began.

"Brave men of the East India Company!" he called out. "I have gathered you together here today for an important purpose. You are our company's finest fighters! The last hope for this continent full of savages!"

Just then, Carter noticed the steps of the marching sepoys falter slightly. For a moment, he closed his eyes and cursed Lord Daniel Eugene Dalgliesh to the deepest pits of hell. Then he opened them again, and continued.

"This is why my heart is filled with sadness by what I have to tell you today. Recently, mutterings of malcontent and dissatisfaction have spread through the ranks of the sepoys of the Company. If that were all, it could be resolved with a few lashings. However, in various places, things went further, and in Barrackpore, one of you even dared to betray the noble company that is trying to bring order to this barbaric land."

Deep inside, Captain Carter briefly wondered whether, perhaps, it would have been a good idea to refrain from issuing ammunition to the troops before giving this inspiring speech. Judging by the looks the troops were throwing him, yes, it would have been. Too bad it was a little too late now.

"In the East India Company, treason is punished with utmost severity. This is how it has always been. But it seems that people have forgotten this important lesson. So, I tell you today: the traitors outside this city will die! Any of you who dare to commit treason will die! And the first to die will be the traitor in Barrackpore, who has disobeyed his superior's orders because of his heathen beliefs. He shall be executed at dawn tomorrow, as a lesson to you all! Remember his fate, men. The same fate that will await the rebels outside the city! The same fate that will await any of you, should you stray from the righteous path!"

Oh, bloody hell! Maybe, just maybe, if I hide my face in my hands, the soldiers below will ignore my existence and forget what I said?

He glanced at them and discovered that no, they would not. In fact, they had stopped marching and were staring at him. The expressions on their faces did not look pleased.

"Ha, you see?" Beside him, Lord Dalgliesh nodded in satisfaction. "That's how you must do it. Those savages need to be put in their pla—"

That was about as far as he got before a shout abruptly cut him off. A shout in Urdu.

"Brothers!"

Captain Carter's head whipped around. There, atop the city wall, stood a man who should definitely not have been there. Carter knew that because the man was not wearing a uniform of one of the Bengal regiments inside the city. Instead, he was wearing the same kind of cavalry uniform as the rebels outside.

Damn and blast!

He opened his mouth to calm the crowd, to somehow get this situation under control again—

"Men!" Lord Daniel Eugene Dalgliesh shouted, stabbing a finger at the figure on the city wall. "Arrest that traitor, and flay him alive!"

Then men did not move.

The soldier on the wall did not retreat.

"Brothers!" he shouted again. "We don't want to fight against you! Why do you obey masters from a foreign land who do nothing but punish and oppress us? Rise up! Throw off the yoke of servitude, and join us to fight for freedom!"

All in all, Captain Carter had to admit that was a much better speech than his. Unfortunately, the soldiers also seemed to think so. As one, they turned around to stare at him. Their expressions did not seem friendly.

Several thousand hands reached for their guns.

Carter stiffened.

"Well, crap."

----------------------------------------

My dear Readers,

For those among you who are not experts on 19th century facial hair fashions (which, honestly speaking, are probably a lot), a fork beard is just what it sounds like—a long beard that is split down the middle towards the end.

Yours Truly

Sir Rob