1637: The Peacock Throne

by Eric Flint

  “Did he threaten you in any way?” Jahanara asked.

  Nur shook her head. “No. He said nothing about me. I would have been surprised if he had, given that he agreed to meet with me as your emissary. If I had come on my own…or been brought to him…”

  Her lips twitched. “He would have said nothing to me. Made no threats. Just ordered my execution. I probably would not have been brought into his presence at all.”

  Jahanara nodded. That spoke to an impressive degree of self-control on their younger brother’s part. That was dangerous, in the long run. But for now, it meant that they could be reasonably certain Aurangzeb would accept the new situation. For…

  Dara seemed to be reading her thoughts. He turned to look at her. “Perhaps a year, you think?”

  “Probably longer—but almost certainly a full year. It will take Aurangzeb at least that long to restore his authority over his supporters and assemble enough resources in men and materiel to resume the civil war.”

  On an impulse, she looked at Nur Jahan and asked, “Do you agree?”

  “Yes.” Nur squared her shoulders a bit. “There is one other thing. Aurangzeb has a request.”

  “Which is?”

  “He says we have a soldier of his here. A European—Portuguese—whom he employed with his artillery. He was badly injured in the battle. He requests if the man is still alive and able to travel that we send him back to Europe. He has done Aurangzeb good service and is owed that much.”

  Jahanara almost blurted out he is owed that much by you—certainly not us! But she left the words unspoken. This was not a time for pettiness.

  “And how is this to be paid for?” she asked.

  “If the man—his name is Carvalho—is alive and able to travel, Aurangzeb will send over his belongings. There is more than enough there to cover the cost.”

  Jahanara glanced at Dara. He nodded his acquiescence.

  “I will find out if the man survived,” she said. “If he has, we will do as our brother wishes. Is there anything further?”

  Nur shook her head. “No.”

  “Not true!” said Dara. “There is still the matter of what is to be done with you.”

  Nur’s jaws tightened a little. “I did as you bade me.”

  “Yes, you did. But that still leaves the issue of what we are to do with you. You are dangerous, Nur Jahan. I do not trust you at all.”

  Dara shook his head firmly. “I will not send you back to Lahore, to your own estates. Who knows what mischief you will get into up there?” He gestured toward Nadira. “And I do not want you anywhere near my wife and child. That leaves only one option.”

  Now he turned and looked at Jahanara. “She is going on Hajj. Very soon. You will go with her.”

  “I have already been on Hajj,” Nur pointed out. “Twice.”

  Dara shrugged. “So? The Prophet set no limit on the number of times someone may make the pilgrimage.” His jaws tightened a little. “I will brook no argument on this matter. The one person in the world whom I trust to keep you under control is my sister Jahanara.”

  Jahanara was doing her best not to let her dismay show on her face. Her great dismay. How was she to hide her conditions from Nur Jahan over the coming months, if they were in such close proximity? But she could think of no response to her brother’s argument.

  In the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Smidha making a small gesture. Glancing over, she saw that her advisor was fluttering her fingers slightly. The meaning was clear enough: Say nothing. We can deal with this.

  How? she wondered. But she kept silent.

  Mission House

  Agra

  “Absolutely not!” Gervais proclaimed. “You are not getting out of my sight until the two of you are properly wedded.” His stern almost-glare shifted back and forth between his daughter and Bertram.

  Monique threw up her hands. “And how are we to do that, Papa? In case you hadn’t noticed, there are no Christian clergy in Agra.”

  “Probably none in Surat either, by now,” said Bertram. “We could find some in Goa, of course, but…” He made a face. “That would present us with another set of problems. Probably big problems.”

  “Such as arrest,” muttered Monique. “Auto-da-fé.”

  “The solution’s simple,” said Rodney. Everyone seated at the meeting table turned to look at him.

  “Rune Strand,” he said. “Remember him? As captain of the Lønsom Vind, he has the authority to marry them.”

  John frowned. “Does he, though? Yeah, in our day and age he would have, but does that custom apply in this one?”

  * * *

  As it happened, Priscilla knew the answer to that question. She’d run across it once in her voluminous and somewhat scattershot reading. The answer was:

  No, captains in the seventeenth century did not have the authority to conduct marriages—any more than they did up-time. The whole thing was a myth promulgated by romance authors.

  But she saw no reason to clean up waters that her husband had sufficiently muddied for their immediate purposes. They could deal with it one way or another once they got to Surat.

  Harem quarters

  Red Fort

  “But what will we do, Smidha? We can’t keep my condition hidden from Nur Jahan for almost a year! Even the most dull-witted woman in the world would figure it out—which she’s anything but.”

  “We can certainly keep it hidden until we get to Surat, at which point our options will be much greater. You have great power in the port city, don’t forget, because you control so much of the commerce that passes through it. One thing we can certainly do is see to it that Nur is placed on a different ship than yours. She will not see you for the whole voyage.”

  “And then?”

  Smidha threw up her hands in a little gesture of exasperation. “And then we will see! If nothing else—”

  She broke off that line of thought. She didn’t think the princess was ready for that yet.

  If nothing else I am bringing several poisons with me, Nur Jahan has no bodyguards, and Firoz Khan is quite strong enough to pitch her over the side on a dark night.

  So was Jahanara herself, for that matter. Smidha might even be able to do it.

  She reached out her hand and gave that of her mistress a reassuring little squeeze. “We will figure something out, I am sure of it.”

  Sinhagad Fort

  Western Ghats

  Salim braced his shoulders, his hands clasped behind his back. He recognized the face of the umara—one of many he’d encountered at Dara Shikoh’s court—but couldn’t recall his name. “Am I summoned to Red Fort? And if so, do I bring my men with me?”

  The emissary from the Sultan Al’Azam shook his head. “No, Amir.” He withdrew a scroll from his tunic and handed it to Salim.

  “This contains your orders in much greater detail. The essence is that you are appointed the new governor of Gujarat and are to establish your headquarters in Surat.” The umara glanced around at the large number of Salim’s forces who were visible on the nearby walls of the fortress. “Take all your men with you. They will form the core of your forces until you can recruit more men.

  “Which you will need,” he continued. He tapped the scroll with a finger. “As you will see, the Sultan Al’Azam is providing you with plentiful funds. He instructed me to emphasize to you that he wants you to concentrate on building a navy for the empire. He is tired of the insults and depredations of the ferenghi flotillas.”

  Salim stared at him. Build a navy…?

  The Mughal empire had always been a land power, not a seagoing one. For at least the past century, they’d relied on the various European naval forces to keep piracy suppressed in the Arabian Sea.

  More to the point, Salim himself was an Afghan. What he knew about building, maintaining—much less properly using—naval forces amounted to practically nothing.

  He tightened his jaws to keep his mouth from sagging open.

  The umara seemed
to understand at least some of Salim’s disquiet. He leaned forward and said softly, “The Sultan does not expect you to be the expert on the subject, Amir. Those we already have—and in greater numbers than you probably realize. For some time now, the Begum Sahib has had our shipbuilders in Surat designing war vessels based on not just European but up-time designs. None of them will be there when you arrive, for the Begum Sahib is taking all of them to Jeddah.”

  “Jeddah?” He tightened his jaws again, lest he look like an outright fool.

  The umara nodded. “She is going on Hajj. By now, she will have already left Agra. Two of the new vessels will continue on from Jeddah to Europe, in order to expand our trade. She will bring the other two back with her when she returns. So as you can see, you will have considerable resources available to you when you arrive in Gujarat, and still more by sometime next year.”

  He handed over the scroll. “My congratulations, Governor.”

  On the road to Surat

  Southeast of Agra

  “I’ll say this—” Priscilla used a forefinger to move aside one of the curtains concealing the interior of the howdah from outside view. She didn’t move the curtain very far, though. “It can get a little stifling in here, especially in the middle of the day, but it’s not an uncomfortable way to travel. At least once you get used to the…”

  She used her hand to mimic the rolling, swaying motions of an elephant’s back.

  Jahanara glanced up at the canopy covering the howdah. “I can have more water spread on the cloth, if you like. That will cool us.”

  Priscilla shook her head. “It’s not that bad.” She left unsaid that every time the caravan stopped, it seemed to take at least an hour to get it underway again. She was a little surprised, actually, that Jahanara seemed very willing to make such stops. The woman was normally given to driving projects through with great energy.

  “A least we’re traveling at the right time,” said Monique. They had now entered India’s best time of year, the cool and dry season called rabi. That season would last about four months, until well into February, before the heat of garam arrived. By then, they would have crossed the sea.

  “Really,” said Jahanara. “I can have the howdah stopped so we can have more water sprinkled on the canopy.” She made a little fluttering motion with her hand. “It is not a problem.”

  Sinhagad Fort

  Western Ghats

  “I leave you in charge of the sowar, Sunil,” said Salim. “I am instructed to take command in Gujarat as soon as possible.”

  His subordinate officer frowned. “Surely you can wait a day or two. The Sultan’s emissary seemed in no great rush when he left us yesterday.”

  Sunil glanced over at the small force Salim had assembled by way of an accompanying guard. “Twenty men is not much.”

  “It is enough. With as many good remounts as we have, no bandits will undertake a pursuit anyway. I repeat: I must be off.”

  He frowned, very sternly. “Duty calls. And that call is relentless, as always.”

  A moment later, he was up in the saddle and leading his little troop on the road north to Surat.

  Part Nine

  October, 1637

  Troubled no longer by the priestly lore

  —The Rig Veda

  Chapter 55

  Surat

  The Gulf of Khambhat

  By the time he rode onto the quay at Surat, Salim knew he was too late.

  Barely—but still too late. Drawing up his horse at the end of the stone pier, he watched the flotilla sailing with the tide down the Tapti River toward the Gulf of Khambhat. He had no doubt of the identity of the four ships, since they were quite distinctive in their design. Even a landsman like himself could tell the difference.

  They were still quite visible, although few details could be determined at the distance. For one, they flew the odd standard of the USE and that of Hamburg. He could make out a few human figures well enough, but it was impossible to distinguish faces.

  He did not curse. In truth, meeting Jahanara here before she sailed would have been an enormous risk, even a deadly one should they be discovered. He had simply not been able to resist making the effort—which had gained him no favor among the men of his escort. He had driven them very hard, and for many days, even using up some of the remounts.

  He could hear their horses’ hooves clatter on the stone quay as they joined him upon it, could feel the sullen fatigue in their stares on his back.

  They’d live. Hardships had benefits of their own, after all.

  * * *

  After staring at the distant figure of the lone horseman at the end of the quay for a moment, Jahanara looked around the rear deck of the Lønsom Vind. The ship’s captain—she couldn’t remember his name at the moment—was but a few steps away, facing downriver and seeming happy to be on his way.

  “Monique,” she said. “Would you ask the captain if I might use his spyglass?”

  Monique was back in a few seconds with the telescope.

  It took Jahanara more effort than she thought it should to bring the device into focus, but soon enough…

  She spent several minutes gazing upon the figure of the horseman, until distance and the slight haze covering the waters made the effort pointless.

  “Thank you,” she said, handing back the spyglass.

  She was suffused by a great warmth. In truth, she was surprised he had made such good time. Even so, she could only delay here for so long without raising suspicions, and Dara Shikoh would not have sent Salim his new instructions until he was certain the Amir could not possibly reach Surat before she departed.

  Jahanara would miss him. Begum Sahib dare not show it.

  Stifling a sigh, Begum Sahib turned to Priscilla, who was standing silently beside her at the rail. “We shall be together for a long time now, with many opportunities to speak. Of many things.”

  “Yes,” said Priscilla, eyes on the distant shore.

  After a while, Jahanara added, “There are many things I think it would be good to discuss. With a woman from the future.”

  “Oh, yes,” said Priscilla.

  Glossary of Terms

  Akbarnama Book of Akbar, one of the great Mughal Emperors.

  Atishbaz Caste-workers who manufacture rearms and cannon.

  Begum Princess.

  Begum Sahib Princess of princesses.

  Betel A leaf containing stimulants that is consumed in Southeast Asia, noted for causing staining of the teeth in regular users.

  Caravanserai Way station on a caravan route. Often paid for out of royal coffers.

  Chakram Sharpened throwing rings of thin steel hurled like a Frisbee.

  Dastak A scepter, specifically a symbol of diplomatic status and protection of the sovereign.

  Deccan Plateau in north-central India.

  Diwan Royally-appointed manager for some specific trade or bureaucratic entity.

  Diwan-i-Khas Hall of public audience.

  Diwan-i-Am Hall of private audience.

  Doab A tract of land between two rivers.

  Ferenghi Foreigner, usually European.

  Firman Written permission or order. Necessary for trade.

  Qalam Writing instrument.

  Gaz Distance, much like a cubit or yard.

  Howdah Passenger compartment on an elephant, sometimes enclosed.

  Jagir Income property rights, not usually overseen in person by the holder, a Jagirdir.

  Jagirdir Holder of a jagir.

  Jali Ornate stone or wooden screens to preserve purdah.

  Julabmost Nonalcoholic fruit drink.

  Jizya Muslim tax on nonbelievers.

  Katar Triangular double-bladed punch dagger.

  Khalat Robes of state, embroidered and decorated, that were given as gifts to umara who pleased the powerful.

  Khan-i-Saman Manager of a harem’s dealings with the outside world, usually a eunuch.

  Kharkhanas Craftsmen collected by a royal, the product of which
can be many things.

  Khutba Friday prayers. In this instance, Friday prayers proclaiming a new emperor.

  Kokas Milk-brothers. Those warriors of the inner circle of a prince who “shared the milk” of their mothers, meaning they were to be trusted in all things.

  Kos Length of distance equivalent to approximately 2.25 miles.

  Maghrib Afternoon prayers for Muslims.

  Mahout Elephant handler and trainer.

  Mansab A set of jagirs, often scattered throughout the empire.

  Mansabdar A holder of mansab.

  Mihmandar Person responsible for the upkeep, care, and security of an envoy visiting the Mughal court.

  Nizam Mughal title for foreign princes and sultans—a way to avoid admitting in writing that another could hold the title of sultan.

  Nökör Personal guard of a prince.

  Pulu Polo.

  Purdah Separation of women from men in accordance with cultural and religious norms.

  Shehzadi Princess.

  Shehzada Prince.

  Sowar Cavalry trooper. Also one of two rankings in the emperor’s court, this one denoting how many actual sowar were paid for out of the rank-granter’s treasury. Inspections were common.

  Sultan King.

  Sultan Al’Azam High Sultan, the emperor’s honorific.

  Umara Nobles of the court.

  Wazir First advisor, minister.

  Zamburak Camel gun, small cannon like a swivel gun aboard western ships.

  Zamburakchi Camel gunners.

  Zamind Land rights settled region.

  Zamindar Recipient of land rights to a region, usually resided in or on and defended by the zamindar himself.

  Zat Courtly rank, strictly a sign of the emperor’s favor, compensated with cash allowances and jagirs, but no troops.