Salt and Seals

Script

EXT. RIVERBANK OUTSIDE THE COMPANY OUTPOST - DUSK

Monsoon air without rain — thick, buzzing. The RIVER is a black ribbon. Fireflies blink over reeds.

CAPT. SILAS CROWE stands alone at the edge of mud, coat unbuttoned, boots sunk. Behind him, half-seen through palms, a COMPANY 6-POUNDER sits under canvas like a sleeping animal.

ASHA MUKHERJEE steps up quietly, a lantern shuttered in her hand.

ASHA  
You shouldn’t have come without witnesses.

CROWE  
That defeats the purpose of a secret meeting.

ASHA  
Secrets here are never one person’s.  
(looks to the covered gun)  
She asked for a cannon. You brought a cannon.

CROWE  
I brought myself. The gun stays.

Asha’s eyes flick to the tree-line. A shape moves — and stops. Watching.

ASHA  
Begum Farzana Ali doesn’t “ask.” She measures.

CROWE  
Then let her measure a man who still owns his name.

Asha exhales, as if the name costs him something.

ASHA  
Your men are starving, Captain. Names don’t feed gunners.

A BOAT POLE taps the riverbed — soft, deliberate. A small, low craft glides in, oars wrapped in cloth.

EXT. RIVERBANK - CONTINUOUS

The boat beaches without a splash.

BEGUM FARZANA ALI steps onto the mud as if it’s marble. Veil light, jewelry minimal, eyes exact. Two GUARDS remain in shadow, muskets held low.

BEGUM FARZANA  
Captain Crowe.

CROWE  
Begum.

Farzana’s gaze moves past him — to the covered cannon.

BEGUM FARZANA  
Your Company nails its words to paper and calls it law.  
I nail mine to outcomes.

ASHA (translating, under her breath)  
She says: she will not bargain with promises.

CROWE  
Speak your outcome.

Farzana smiles, almost kindly.

BEGUM FARZANA  
Your gun crew sleeps on damp straw. Fever will take them one by one.  
Tomorrow a Company convoy will “lose its way” near my lands.  
Rice. Quinine. Dry powder. Boots that are not eaten by rot.

CROWE’s jaw tightens. His eyes betray hunger — not for food, for leverage.

BEGUM FARZANA (CONT’D)  
In exchange… a cannon goes missing.

ASHA  
She