The Moghul

by Thomas Hoover

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  The advance of Prince Jadar's army west toward the Rajputstronghold of Udaipur was like nothing Brian Hawksworth had ever seen.Jadar was marching into the heart of ancient Rajput country, and themovement of his army suddenly came to resemble a triumphant victoryprocession.

  The heavy artillery formed the first contingent, drawn by teams ofelephants and bullocks. Two thousand infantry moved in front, smoothingthe ground with spades. The army's baggage animals followed theartillery, and after this came Jadar's personal treasury--camels loadedwith gold and silver coin--together with his records and archives. Nextin the line of march were elephants carrying the _zenana _women'sjewels and a collection of ornate swords and daggers that Jadarperiodically gave to his officers as presents. Then came the watercamels, and finally Jadar's kitchen and provisions. The baggage wasfollowed by the ordinary cavalry, and after them rode Jadar and hisretinue of nobles. Behind him came his _zenana_. The rear of theprocession was brought up by women and servants, then elephants,camels, and mules carrying the remainder of the baggage and tents.

  Some of Jadar's _zenana _women traveled in gilded _chaudols _carried onthe shoulders of four bearers and shaded with netting of coloredembroidered silk. Others were transported in enclosed palanquins, alsocovered with silk nets decorated with gold fringe and tassels. Stillothers chose to ride in swaying litters suspended between two elephantsor two strong camels. A female slave walked near each litter carrying apeacock tail to brush off dust and keep away flies.

  Jadar's first and favorite wife, Mumtaz, seemed to scorn all thesecomforts, displaying herself regally all day long from atop her ownpersonal elephant, riding in a gold _howdah _shaded by a vast tapestryumbrella. Her elephant was festooned with embroideries, yak tails, andlarge silver bells; and directly behind her, on six smaller elephants,rode the women of her immediate household. Her eunuchs rode clusteredaround her on horses, each carrying a wand signifying his office andsweating profusely beneath his jeweled turban. A vanguard of footmenwith bamboo canes walked ahead of Mumtaz's elephant clearing a paththrough the crowds.

  Jadar himself traveled mainly on his favorite Arabian horse--except whenpassing through cities, when he would switch to a conspicuouslybedecked elephant--surrounded by the high-ranking nobles. Trailing outbehind this first circle were the ranks of the lesser _mansabdars_, whorode in full military dress, displaying swords, bows, shields. Whilethis procession inched along at its regal pace, Jadar and his noblesfrequently paused ostentatiously to bag tiger or chase stripe-earedantelope with the prince's brace of hunting _chitahs_.

  A complete set of tents for Jadar and his _zenana _traveled a dayahead, to ensure that a fully prepared camp always awaited him and hiswomen when, at approximately three in the afternoon, the processionwould stop and begin to settle for the night. Each of his larger tentscould be disassembled into three separate sections, and all of thesetogether required a full fifty baggage elephants for transport. Movingthe smaller tents required almost a hundred camels. Wardrobes andkitchen utensils were carried by some fifty mules, and special porterscarried by hand Jadar's personal porcelains, his gilt beds, and a fewof his silk tents.

  The procession was a lavish display of all the wealth and arms Jadarhad remaining. And nothing about it hinted that his was an army on therun . . . which in fact it was.

  Hawksworth puzzled over Jadar's extravagant pomp for several days,finding it uncharacteristic, and finally concluded it was a deliberateIndian strategy.

  Jadar has to raise another army and quickly. He'll not do it if he hasthe look of a fugitive and loser about him. He's managed to hold theImperial army at bay for a while, wound them enough to escapeentrapment. But he's wounded too, and badly. The Imperial army may beshattered for the moment, but Jadar's lost half his own men. The winnerwill be the one who can rebuild first and attack. If Jadar doesn't makesome alliances and get some men soon, Inayat Latif and the queen willchase him from one end of India to the other.

  Along the way a few independent Rajput chieftains had come to hisbanner, but not enough. When Hawksworth asked Shirin what she thoughtJadar's chances were of raising a Rajput army large enough to faceInayat Latif, she had made no effort to conceal her concern.

  "The greatest Rajput nobles are waiting to see whether Maharana KaranSingh of Udaipur will decide to openly support him. He's the leader ofthe ranas of Mewar, which is the name for the lands of Rajputana aroundUdaipur, and they're the highest in rank of all the Rajput chieftainsof India. If Maharana Karan Singh agrees to support him with his ownarmy, the other ranas of Mewar may follow, and after them perhaps allof Rajputana."

  "What do you mean? He's providing Jadar a place to stay, or at least tohide while he licks his wounds. That looks like support to me."

  Shirin had tried to smile. "Permitting Prince Jadar to camp in Udaipurdoesn't necessarily imply support. It could also be interpreted merelyas traditional Rajput hospitality. It's one thing to open yourguesthouse to a son of the Moghul. It's something quite different tocommit your army to aid his rebellion." She drew her horse closer toHawksworth's. "You see, Maharana Karan Singh and his father Amar Singhbefore him have had a treaty of peace with Arangbar for almost tenyears, after many decades of bloody war between Mewar and the Moghuls.There are many Rajput chieftains in Mewar who do not want him torenounce that treaty. They're weary of Moghul armies invading Rajputanaand burning their fields and cities. Prince Jadar will have tonegotiate with Maharana Karan Singh if he's to be persuaded to help.The prince will have to offer him something in return for his aid. Forthe risk he'll be taking should the prince lose. That's why the otherRajputs are waiting. Everyone here knows the prince has no chance ifthe maharana withholds his support."

  A noticeable feeling of relief swept through the long columns ofJadar's cavalry the afternoon that Maharana Karan Singh was sightedriding out on his elephant, surrounded by a retinue of his personalguard, to welcome Prince Jadar at the high stone gate leading throughthe walls of the mountain city of Udaipur. Throughout the ranks ofJadar's bedraggled army it was seen as a positive omen.

  The army and the lesser _mansabdars _camped outside the city walls; thehighest-ranking nobles were invited to stay in the maharana's citypalace, set on a high cliff overlooking Pichola Lake; and Jadar, his_zenana_, and his personal guards were ferried with much pomp across tothe new guest palace on Jagmandir Island, in the center of the lake. Asone of Arangbar's khans and a foreign ambassador, Brian Hawksworth wasinstalled by the maharana in a special suite in his city palacereserved for dignitaries.

  In an even more auspicious gesture, the maharana invited Prince Jadarto dine with him in the palace that evening. The ancient Rajputanatradition of hospitality did not normally require dining with yourguests, and the Rajput chieftains traveling with Jadar were againheartened. Late in the afternoon, an invitation also arrived requestingthat Ambassador Hawksworth and Shirin, characterized as Jadar'spersonal aide, join the dinner.

  "Why do you think he wants us?" When the maharana's servants had left,Hawksworth showed the gilded invitation to Shirin. She was on theirbalcony watching white-necked cranes glide across the surface ofPichola Lake, spreading out hundreds of feet below them.

  "Perhaps the maharana is curious to meet a _feringhi_. I'm sure he'snever seen one before." She hesitated. "Or perhaps Prince Jadararranged for you to be there. To imply he has the support of theEnglish king's warships."

  "You know I don't speak for King James on matters of war."

  "Tonight you must appear to do so. I'm sure your king would help PrinceJadar if he knew him."

  "He'll support him if he becomes Moghul."

  "Then you must help Prince Jadar tonight. So that he will."

  Shirin had overseen the servants who had been sent to clean and repairHawksworth's doublet and hose. Then a bath was brought, accompanied bybarbers and manicurists. The maharana sent a vial of musk perfume toShirin, buried in a basket of flowers. By the time they were escortedthrough the high scalloped archway leading into t
he palace banquethall, they both were bathed, perfumed, and refreshed; and Hawksworthagain looked almost like an ambassador.

  Accustomed to the red sandstone of Agra, he was momentarily astoundedto see a room fashioned entirely from purest white marble. The hall waslong and wide, with two rows of bracketed columns its entire length.Maharana Karan Singh sat at the far end in front of a marble screen,his gold wand of office at his side, reclining against an enormousbolster of gold brocade. He appeared to be Jadar's age, with eyes thatsparkled mischievously, a long Rajput moustache, glistening with wax,which curled upward at the ends, and a turban of gold brocade. He worea long red and white striped satin skirt beneath a translucent cloak.His necklace and earrings were matching green emeralds. Seated aroundhim, on red carpets woven with designs of fighting elephants, were hisRajput nobles, each in white with an orange turban and a gold-trimmedbrocade sash at his waist. Every Rajput in the room had a gold-handledkatar.

  Jadar saw Hawksworth and Shirin enter and rose to greet them. Theprince was dressed in his finest, with a cloak of gold cloth, palegreen trousers, red velvet slippers, a long double string of pearlsaround his neck, and a pink silk turban crisscrossed with floweredbrocade and secured with a large ruby. He led Hawksworth before themaharana and introduced him, in Rajasthani. Jadar then translated theintroduction into Turki for Hawksworth, who was startled to learn thathe was a high-ranking member of Angrezi--English--royalty. He lookedaround and realized he was easily the most shabbily attired man in theroom, including the servants.

  After the introduction Hawksworth took his place among Jadar's ownretinue of nobles. Shirin was seated on the carpet directly behind him.

  All the guests sat in a line facing a long gold-threaded cloth spreadalong the floor. Food was brought in on silver trays, which were placedon silver stools directly in front of each diner. Hawksworth hadscarcely taken his seat before a full wine cup was placed in his hands.It was never allowed to approach dryness.

  The banquet was lavish, equaling anything he had seen in Agra. It wasimmediately apparent that roast game was the speciality of Udaipur, astray after tray of antelope, venison, hare, and wild duck were placedbefore him. In its emphasis on roasted meats, the food could almosthave been English, save it was all seasoned with spices he had nevertasted in London. The centerpiece was an elaborately glazed wild boarthe maharana had bagged personally from horseback with a spear. NominalMuslim though he was, Prince Jadar downed a generous portion of theboar and praised the flavor.

  The trays of meat were accompanied by spiced curds, local yogurts, andbaked vegetables swimming in ghee. The meal concluded with dried fruitswhich had been sugared and perfumed, followed by mouth-freshening_pan_, the betel leaves wrapped around spiced bhang, currants, sweetimported coconut.

  The final offering, eagerly awaited by all the Rajputs, was opium. Asthey popped down handfuls of the brown balls, Hawksworth discreetlysignaled for more wine. After the dishes were cleared, several jeweledwomen in red trousers and thin billowing blouses entered, drank glassesof wine in honor of the maharana, then danced among the guests to theaccompaniment of a large sarangi.

  After the dancers had been dismissed, Prince Jadar rose

  and proposed a toast to the maharana. The toast was ceremonial,elaborate, and--it seemed--entirely expected by everyone.

  "To His Highness, the Maharana of Udaipur: whose line flows directlyfrom the great Kusa, son of Rama, King of Ajodhya and the noble hero ofthe Ramayana. Descendant of the Royal House of the Sun, whose subjectswill refuse their food if neither he nor his brother the Sun arepresent to show their face upon it and bless it."

  The maharana's reply was equally effusive, describing Jadar as thegreatest Moghul warrior in all of history, the equal of his Mongolforebears Genghis Khan and Tamerlane, a worthy descendant of the earlyMoghul conquerors Babur and Humayun, and finally, the one Moghul whosemartial skills might actually approach those of the fighting Rajputs ofMewar--an oblique reference to the fact that Jadar had led the Moghularmy that subdued Mewar a decade earlier and induced its Rajputs tofinally acknowledge Moghul dominance over northwest India.

  Immoderate praise of one another's armies followed next. Then themaharana said something else, and Jadar turned suddenly towardHawksworth.

  "Ambassador Hawksworth. His Highness has asked to speak with you."

  Hawksworth rose from the carpet and moved forward. Around him theUdaipur Rajputs studied him with open curiosity. They had listened tolavish toasts for years, but none had ever before seen a _feringhi _ina doublet. The very concept of such a phenomenon exceeded theirimagination.

  "His Highness has asked permission to allow his court painters to makeyour portrait, so that he may remember your likeness. Dressed as youare tonight. Do you have any objection?"

  "Please tell His Highness I would be honored." Hawksworth found himselfstartled, and unsure what reply was appropriate. "Please tell him thatmy own father was once a painter in England."

  Jadar smiled through his teeth. "You mean I should tell him there areof course many skilled artists in your noble land of England. Your ownfather, as we both know, was a great khan in England, not a lowlycraftsman."

  As Hawksworth nodded dully, Jadar turned and translated this to themaharana. Karan Singh's eyes brightened as he replied to Jadar.

  "He asks if your king's painters are expert in Ragamala?"

  "I'm not entirely sure what His Highness refers to." Hawksworthexamined Jadar with a puzzled expression.

  Jadar translated and the Rajput looked surprised. He turned and quicklysaid something to one of the servants, who vanished and reappearedmoments later with a leatherbound folio. The maharana spoke briefly toJadar, then passed the book.

  "The maharana politely suggests that possibly your English king'spainters have not yet achieved the sophistication required forRagamala. He asks me to show you one of his personal albums." Jadaropened the book and handed it to Hawksworth.

  It was filled with vibrant miniature paintings, executed on heavysheets of paper that had been treated with a white pigment of ricewater and lavishly embellished with gold leaf. They showed round-eyedyoung women with firm breasts and slender wrists lounging inbeautifully stylized gardens and courtyards, playing gilded instrumentsor sensuously embracing their lovers, many surrounded by doves,peacocks, tame deer, and tapestry-covered elephants. In some the blue-faced god Krishna played an instrument that looked something like asitar, to the wistful gaze of longing doe-eyed women whose breastsswelled through their gauze wraps. The paintings imparted to Hawkswortha curious world of emotional intensity: a celebration of life, love,and devotion.

  "Each Ragamala painting depicts the mood of a specific raga." Jadarpointed to one of a jeweled woman feeding a peacock which leaned downfrom a white marble rooftop, while her lover reached his arms toencircle her. "This is a raga named Hindol, a morning raga of love. TheRagamala paintings of Mewar are a perfect blend of music, poetry, andpure art." Jadar winked. "After the maharana has painted you in yournative costume, perhaps he will have his artists paint you as the younggod Krishna, enticing some milkmaids to your leafy bed."

  The maharana spoke again to Jadar.

  "He asks whether these are anything like the paintings your king'sartists create for English ragas?"

  "Tell him we don't have ragas in England. Our music is different."

  Jadar tried to mask his discomfort. "Perhaps I should merely say yourEnglish ragas are in a different style from those we have in India. Hewill not be impressed to learn that English music is not yet advancedenough to have developed the raga."

  Jadar's reply seemed to satisfy the maharana. He turned and saidsomething to one of the men sitting near him.

  "His Highness has ordered that you be given an album of Ragamalapaintings to take back to your king, so the painters at his court maytry to copy them and begin to learn greatness."

  "His Majesty, King James, will be deeply honored by the rana's gift."Hawksworth bowed diplomatically, deciding not to inform the maharanat
hat King James had no painters and little taste.

  The maharana beamed in satisfaction and dismissed Hawksworth with anod.

  Then the exchange of gifts began. Jadar produced a gold cloak for themaharana, a jewel-encrusted sword, a jeweled saddle, and promised todeliver an elephant with a silver howdah. The maharana in turn gaveJadar an emerald the size of a large walnut, a gilded shield studdedwith jewels, and a brace of jeweled katars. Each thanked the otherextravagantly and set the presents aside.

  Then Jadar suddenly stood up and began removing his turban. The roomfell silent at this unprecedented act.

  "Tonight, in gratitude for his friendship, for his offer of an abode toone who no longer has any roof save a tent, I offer to His Highness,the Maharana of Udaipur, my own turban, that he may have a lastingtoken of my gratitude. That in the years ahead when, Allah willing,these dark days are past, we will neither of us forget my indebtednesson this night."

  As Jadar stepped forward to present the turban, the maharana's eyesflooded with emotion. Before Jadar had moved more than a pace, KaranSingh was on his feet, ripping off his own turban. They met in thecenter of the room, each reverently placing his own turban on theother's head, then embracing.

  Hawksworth looked around the room and saw Rajputs who would gut anenemy without a blink now near to tears. He leaned back toward Shirin.

  "What's the significance of the turbans?"

  "It's the rarest gift any man could present to another. I've neverbefore heard of a Moghul or a Rajput giving his turban. The story ofthis will be told throughout Mewar. We have just seen the creation of alegend."

  Then the maharana's voice rose. "Mewar, the abode of all that isbeautiful in the world, is made even more beautiful by your presence.In years past we have stood shield to shield with you; tonight weembrace you in friendship. We wish you victory over those who woulddeny you your birthright, which you have earned both by blood and bydeed. No other in India is more fit to reign, more just to govern, morehonorable to his friends, more feared by his foes. Tonight we offer youour hand and our prayers that Lord Krishna will always stand with you."

  Hawksworth turned to Shirin and whispered. "What's he saying?"

  Her eyes were dark. "He's delaying his answer to the prince. Offeringhim prayers to Lord Krishna. Prince Jadar doesn't need prayers toKrishna. He needs Rajputs. Thousands of Rajputs. But perhaps in timethe maharana can be convinced. Banquets are not the place fornegotiation. They're the place for perfumed talk."

  Jadar was smiling as though he had just been offered the whole ofRajputana. He managed to thank the maharana lavishly.

  The maharana beamed and signaled for _pan _leaves again, signifying theevening was ended. The room emptied in moments.

  "I think Jadar could be in serious trouble." Hawksworth turned toShirin as they entered the hallway. "If he fails to get support here,what will he do?"

  "I don't know. I think he may still manage an alliance before he'sthrough. But it will be costly. Otherwise he'll probably have to movesouth and try to convince Malik Ambar to commit him his Maratha army.But Rajputs are better." She moved closer. "I'm suddenly so very, verytired of armies and tents and strategies. I don't know where it willend. Time is running out. For him and for us." She brushed him lightlywith her body. "Will you make love to me tonight as though we'd neverheard of Rajputs and Marathas? We'll look at the lake in the moonlightand forget everything, just for tonight." She opened her hand. Insidewere several small brown balls. "I took some of the maharana's_affion_. Tonight we have no battles to fight."

  *

  Hawksworth sat beside Shirin watching the oarsmen strain against thelocks, their orange oars flashing against the ornately gilded boat likethe immense gills of some ceremonial fish. A turbaned drummer sat atone end, sounding the beat, and the tillerman stood behind him.

  They were headed for Jagmandir Island, on the invitation of PrinceJadar, in a boat provided by Maharana Karan Singh. Three weeks ofbanquets, hunting, and oaths of lasting friendship seemed to have donelittle to _Resolve_ the question of the maharana's support for Jadar'srebellion. Time, Hawksworth told himself, is starting to work heavilyagainst the prince. The Imperial army let us escape because they weretoo shattered to attack again. But we all know they're rebuilding.Jadar has to decide soon how much longer he can afford to stay here andlisten to vague promises.

  Behind them the high walls and turrets of the maharana's palace toweredabove the cliff, reflecting gold in the late afternoon sun. As theyneared the island, Hawksworth turned back to see the thick stone wallsof the city following the curve of the surrounding hilltops and finallyangling down to a tall watchtower at the very edge of the lake. Herealized the lake itself was actually the city's fourth defensebarrier.

  Ahead, the white sandstone palace on Jagmandir glistened against thewater. At the front a large pavilion surrounded by delicate whitepillars jutted out into the lake. Its entrance was guarded by a row oflife-sized stone elephants rising out of the water, their trunks raisedabove their heads in silent salute. As their boat neared the archedentryway of the pavilion, Hawksworth saw a veiled woman surrounded byeunuchs standing on the marble-paved dock to greet them.

  "It's Her Highness, Princess Mumtaz." Shirin's voice was suddenlyflooded with surprised delight. Then she turned to Hawksworth with alaugh. "Welcome to the _zenana_, Ambassador."

  "What's she doing here?" Hawksworth examined the figure, whose jewelsglistened in the afternoon sun, then warily studied the eunuchs.

  "She's come to meet us." Shirin's voice was lilting in anticipation. "Ithink she's bored to frustration trapped on this island prison."

  As their boat touched the dock, Mumtaz moved forward and immediatelyembraced Shirin. Her eyes swept Hawksworth as he bowed.

  "Your Highness."

  Mumtaz giggled behind her veil and turned to Shirin, speaking inPersian. "Do we have to speak barbarous Turki because of him?"

  "Just for this afternoon."

  "I welcome you in the name of His Highness." Mumtaz's Turki wasaccented but otherwise flawless. "He asked me to meet you and show youthe garden and the palace."

  She began chattering to Shirin in a mixture of Persian and Turki asthey walked into the garden. It soon revealed itself to be a matrix ofbubbling fountains and geometrical stone walkways, beside which rows ofbrightly colored flowers bloomed. Ahead of them the small three-storypalace rose skyward like a long-stemmed lotus, its top a high dome witha sensuous curve. The ground floor was an open arcade, with lightinterior columns and a row of connecting quarters off each side forwomen and servants, screened behind marble grillwork.

  Mumtaz directed them on through the garden and into the cool arcade ofthe palace. At one side, near the back, a stone stairway spiraledupward to the second floor. Mumtaz led the way, motioning them tofollow.

  At the second floor they emerged into a small chamber strewn withbolsters and carpets that seemed to be Jadar's reception room. Mumtazignored it as she started up the next circular staircase.

  The topmost room was tiny, dazzling white, completely unfurnished. Theornate marble cupola of the dome towered some thirty feet above theirheads, and around the sides were carved niches decorated with coloredstone. Light beamed through the room from a wide doorway leading to abalcony, which was also bare save for an ornately carved sitar leanedagainst its railing.

  "His Highness has taken a particular fondness for this room and refusesto allow anything to be placed in it. He sits here for hours, and onthe balcony there, doing I don't know what." Mumtaz gestured toward thedoorway. "He wanted me to bring you here to wait for him." She sighed."I agree with him that this room brings a great feeling of peace. Butwhat good is peace that cannot last? I don't know how much longer wecan stay here." Mumtaz turned and hugged Shirin again. "I so miss Agra.And the Jamuna. Sometimes I wonder if we'll ever see it again."

  Shirin stroked Mumtaz's dark hair, then said something to her inPersian. Mumtaz smiled and turned to Hawksworth.

&
nbsp; "Do you really love her?"

  "More than anything." Hawksworth was momentarily startled by herdirectness.

  "Then take her with you. Away from here. Away from all the killing anddeath. How much longer can any of us endure it?" Her hard eyes blinkedaway a hint of a tear. "I've lived most of my life with His Highness intents, bearing children. I'm so weary of it all. And now I wonder ifwe'll ever have a place just for ourselves."

  She would have continued, but footsteps sounded on the stone stairs,and Jadar emerged beaming from the stairwell, his turban set rakishlyon the side of his head. He seemed in buoyant spirits. "You're here!Let me welcome you and offer you something to banish the afternoonheat." He gave Mumtaz a quick hug. Hawksworth sensed this was not theofficial Jadar. This was a prince very much at his ease. "I hope Shirinwill join me in having some _sharbat_. But for you, Captain, I've had asurprise prepared. I think you might even like it better than your foulbrandy." He spoke quickly to a eunuch waiting at the top of the stairs,then turned back to Hawksworth and Shirin. "Have you found themaharana's palace to your liking?"

  "His view of the lake and the mountains is the finest in India." Shirinperformed a _teslim_. "We so thank Your Highness."

  Mumtaz embraced Shirin once more, said something to her in Persian,then bowed to Jadar and disappeared down the stairwell. He watched hertenderly until she was gone before he turned back to Hawksworth andShirin.

  "Come outside with me." He walked past them through the marble doorway."Have you seen the lake yet from the balcony? This one afternoon wewill drink together and watch the sunset. Before we all leave Udaipur Iwanted you to see this place. It's become very special for me. When Isit here in the cool afternoon, I seem to forget all the wounds I'veever felt in battle. For a moment nothing else exists."

  "I think this palace is almost finer than the one Rana Karan Singhhas." Hawksworth stroked Shirin's thigh as they followed Jadar onto thecool balcony, impulsively wanting her in his arms. Then he cleared histhroat. "I don't remember ever seeing anything quite like it in India."

  "At times you can be a perceptive man, Captain. Allah may have showedhis wisdom when he sent you here." Jadar smiled. "You know, I stillremember my first word of your arrival, and your now-famous encounterwith the Portuguese. I think that morning will someday change thehistory of both our lands--the morning India and England met." He lookedpensively down into the garden below. "It all depends on what happensnext."

  "What do you think will happen, Highness?" Shirin moved next to Jadarat the edge of the balcony.

  He squinted into the waning sun for a moment, then turned his eyesaway. "It's difficult to know. Probably the Imperial army will be sentagainst me again, any day now."

  "Will the maharana support you with his cavalry?"

  Jadar fell silent, as though choosing his words carefully. Then heshrugged away discretion. "I think he might, but I still don't know. Ihear that many of the other ranas of Rajputana have warned him not toside with me openly. They still remember the devastation Inayat Latifwrought here fifteen years ago, when he was sent by Arangbar to putdown their rebellion. Rajputs love to battle, but not amid their owncities and fields. And that's easy to understand. Rana Karan Singh isin a difficult position. He knows if I stand here and fight, the battlecould well destroy Udaipur."

  "What will you do?"

  "I'll probably have to move out soon, and move quickly, farther northinto the mountains or back south to Burhanpur. I can't stand and fightagain, not yet. That's one of the reasons I sent for you." He turned toface Hawksworth. "I think it's time you left India. No one in Agraexcept Nadir Sharif knows you're alive. But it's obvious you can'treturn there, not under the present circumstances. It's probably bestthat you return to England, at least until my fortunes are _Resolve_d.You must not join me in any more battles. It's not your war."

  Hawksworth felt a sudden chill against his skin. "There's no reason forme to leave. And besides, I have no way to return to England now. TheCompany is supposed to send a voyage this autumn, but . . ."

  "There's always a way to do anything, Captain." Jadar stopped andlaughed. "Well, almost anything. Here at Udaipur you're only a fewdays' ride south to our port of Cambay. Like Surat, it's still free ofPortuguese control. I may have very few friends left in Agra, but I dohave friends in Cambay. I can arrange for your passage on an Indiantrader as far as the Moluccas, where you can doubtless hail a Dutchfleet. You can leave India secretly and safely. No one in Agra needever know you helped me."

  "I am not sure I want to leave now." Hawksworth slipped his arm aroundShirin's waist.

  Jadar looked at him and smiled. "But Shirin has to leave with you. Herlife is no safer here now than yours." He fixed them both squarely. "Ihereby command her to accompany you. You can both return to Indiasomeday . . . if Allah is kind and I succeed. And you'll be first amongall my ambassadors, Captain, I promise you. You'll receive my first_firman _for trade. But if I die in the days to come, your English kingwill not be accused someday of aiding a renegade. I hereby order youboth to leave, tomorrow."

  "I don't run from a fight. There's some sea dog left in me."

  "I know you don't, Captain, and that's one of the things I like mostabout you. But I'm sending you away, ordering you to go. I'll alwaysremember it was against your will." Jadar looked up to see a eunuchentering with a tray of cups. "Now for your drink. I ordered my kitchento make _panch _for you--I understand the _topiwallahs _in Surat thinkit's called 'punch.'"

  "Punch? What is it?"

  "An Indian delicacy. A special blend of wine, water, sugar, lemons, andspices. Five ingredients. Actually, _panch _is just the Hindi word forfive.' Try it."

  Hawksworth tasted the perfumed red mixture, slices of lemon rindfloating on its surface. It was so delicious he almost drank it off atone gulp. Jadar watched him, smiling, then lifted a cup of _sharbat_from the tray and gestured the eunuch toward Shirin. "I gather youfind it acceptable."

  "It's perfect to watch a sunset with."

  "I thought you'd like it. You know, Captain, I've rather enjoyed seeingyou grow to understand and love India. That's rare among _feringhi_.That's why I absolutely insist your king send you back as his nextambassador."

  "Nothing would please me more."

  "I think you mean it. And I want you to believe me when I tell you thatnothing would please me more. Together we'll rid India of thePortuguese scourge forever." Jadar lifted his cap in a toast andHawksworth joined him.

  "And here's to ridding India of one Portuguese in particular."

  Jadar paused. "Who do you mean?"

  "The Viceroy, Miguel Vaijantes. I don't think I ever told you hemurdered my father in Goa, many years ago."

  Jadar listened in silence. "I had no idea." Then his eyes grew grim. "Iknow him all too well. You may or may not be aware he was once planningto arm Malik Ambar against me. Unfortunately there's very little I cando about him just now. But I have a long memory too, and someday, Allahwilling, I'll put an end to his trade. Will that be justice enough forus both?"

  "I'll drink to it."

  "And I'll drink with you." Jadar took a deep swallow of _sharbat_. "ToEngland and India. And now, for the other reason I asked you both heretoday. To see what you think about something. It's curious, but livinghere in this little palace, I've found myself growing obsessed by anidea. I'd like to know if you think it's mad." He drank again, thensignaled the waiting eunuch to refill their cups. "If I become Moghulone day, I've decided to build something very special for Mumtaz, awork of beauty unlike anything India has ever seen. Staying here onJagmandir Island has given me the idea. But first come inside and letme show you something."

  Jadar rose and strolled back through the columned doorway into thedomed room. "Did you happen to notice this when you came in?" Hepointed to one of the two-foot- high niches in the curved walls.Hawksworth realized that each niche was decorated around its top andsides with inlays of semi-precious stones set into the marble. Eachinlay was a painting of a different flower.

&nbs
p; "Do you see what he's done here?" Jadar motioned Hawksworth and Shirincloser. "This is far more than merely a design. It's actually apainting in rare, colored stone--onyx, carnelian, jasper, agate." Jadarpaused. "Think carefully. Have either of you ever seen anything likethis in Agra?"

  "I've never seen anything like it before, anywhere."

  "Of course you haven't. This is unique. It's truly astonishing. Here onJagmandir Island, with the design of this room, Rana Karan Singh hasactually invented a new style of art. It's phenomenal. Now look up."Jadar pointed to the cupola ceiling. "Notice the sensuous curve of thedome. Like a bud just before it bursts into flower. And at the top yousee more inlays of precious stone. I think it's the most magnificentthing I've ever seen. Its shape and color and purity move me almost totears." He paused and looked at Hawksworth mischievously. "So can youguess what I've decided to do someday?"

  "Build a room like this in Agra?"

  Jadar exploded with laughter. "But this room is so small! What sort ofgift would that be for Mumtaz? No, Captain, if I should eventually findmyself ruling India, I've decided to build Mumtaz an entire palace likethis, a Mahal, all of white marble and inlay. I'll surround it with agarden larger and more beautiful than anything India has ever seen. Itwill be a place of love and of mystery, with the strength of a Rajputwarrior in the harsh sunshine, the warmth of a Persian woman in themoonlight. The outside will be covered with verses from the Qurancarved in marble, and inside the walls will be a garden of jeweledflowers. Minarets will rise at each corner, calling all India toprayer, and its dome will be a cupola with the subtle, sensuous curveof a ripening bud. It will be immense, the most magnificent Mahal inthe world. And it will be my gift to her." He paused, his eyes glowing."Is the idea completely insane?"

  "It's beautiful." Shirin was beaming.

  "I think it's magnificent." Jadar seemed not to need encouragement, ashe drank again from his _sharbat_. "So now you know the other reason Iinvited you here this afternoon. To tell you what you may see when youreturn to Agra. I haven't decided on the exact location yet, but itwill be on the bank of the Jamuna, placed so Mumtaz can watch the sunset over the water, just as we do here. I wanted to tell you both, forI sense you two are among the few who could really appreciate what abold idea this is." Jadar looked sharply at Shirin. "Now, you mustnever, never tell Mumtaz, whatever else you two Persians may chatter onabout. For now let's keep it a secret among us. But someday, someday itwill tell all the world how much I love her." He sighed. "You know, attimes I worry I'm nothing more than a romantic Persian myself, deepinside."

  He looked about the glistening walls once more, then reluctantly turnedand walked out onto the balcony again.

  "The peace I feel here overwhelms me sometimes. It quiets all theunrest in my soul. Perhaps I'm a fool to ever think of Agra. But Agrais my destiny. The Hindus would say it's my _dharma_."

  He stopped to watch as Mumtaz and her women emerged from their quartersand gathered around the fountain in the garden below. The evening airwas flooded with the women's rose attar and musk perfume. He inhaleddeeply, then turned to Hawksworth.

  "By the way, I've had a small farewell gift made for you, Captain. It'sthere beside you." He pointed to the sitar by the railing. "Iunderstand you've started learning to play it."

  Hawksworth turned, startled, and picked up the instrument. Itsworkmanship was fine art, with ivory inlays along both sides of thebody and a neck carved as the head of a swan. He found himself stunned."I've only just begun to learn, Highness. This is much finer than Ideserve. It's worthy of an Ustad."

  "Then perhaps it will inspire you to become a Master yourself someday."He laughed. "And now I want to hear how you play it. The Hindus believethe sitar is a window to the soul. That the sound of the first notetells everything there is to know about a man. I want to see if you'veactually understood anything since you've been here. What raga have youbeen studying?"

  "Malkauns."

  "An ambitious choice. I seem to remember that's a devotional raga. Forlate evening. But the sun's almost down. We'll pretend it's the moon,just rising. Let's go inside, where you can sit."

  Hawksworth carried the sitar and followed numbly as Jadar led the wayback into the tiny marble room. The apprehension he had momentarilyfelt on the balcony seemed to dissolve among the bouquets of preciousstones in the inlaid walls. He slipped off his shoes and seated himselfin the middle of the room. Then he quickly tested the tuning on thestrings, both the upper and the lower. He could already tell the soundit produced was magnificent, with the resonance of an organ. Jadar andShirin seated themselves opposite, speaking Persian in low voices asthey watched him cradle the round body of the sitar in the curvedinstep of his left foot. Then they both fell expectantly silent.

  He knew what they were waiting to hear. For the raga Malkauns, a masterwould sound the first note powerfully, yet with a sense of greatsubtlety--slipping his finger quickly down the string and into the notejust as it was struck, then instantly pulling the string across thefret, almost in the same motion, again raising the pitch and giving thefeeling the note had merely been tasted, dipped down into and out againas it quavered into existence. But it was much more than meretechnique. That was the easiest part. It was a sense. A feeling. Itcame not from the hand, but from the heart. The note must be felt, notmerely sounded. When done with lightness, life seemed to be created, a_prahna _in the music that the player and listener shared as one. Butif the player's heart was false, regardless of how skilled he might be,then his music was hollow and dead.

  He breathed deeply, trying to clear his mind, then slipped the wireplectrum over his finger and gently stroked the lower sympatheticstrings once, twice, to establish the mood. The cool air was crisp andflower-scented, and the sound rose gently upward toward the marblecupola above them. As he listened he found himself looking at Shirinand Jadar, their dark eyes, delicate faces. Then his eyes moved beyondthem, to the garden of inlaid stones in the marble walls. And for amoment he felt something he had never felt before. This was the Indiahe had, until that moment, only been in. But here, now, he was finallypart of it. He took another deep breath and struck.

  The first note was perfect, encompassing. He felt it. He knew it. Hesensed his hand merge with the music, the music with his own life.Shirin's eyes seemed to melt, and Jadar immediately swung his head fromside to side in approval. Then he began to alap, the virtuoso firstsection of the raga, meant to be played solo and without drumaccompaniment. He felt the music slowly growing around him as he foundand explored note after note of the raga's structure. He found himselfwanting to taste and feel each note to its essence, reluctant to moveon to the next. But each time he was beckoned forward, until at lastnothing but the music mattered. He played on and on, the intensity ofthe alap growing organically, almost of its own self, until it burst tocompletion, like a flower that had gloriously escaped the entrapment ofits bud.

  When the final note died into silence, Shirin slowly rose and slippedher arms around his neck. Jadar sat motionless for a moment longer,then reached out and put his hand on the strings of the sitar.

  "You have earned it, Captain. I've heard what I'd hoped to hear. Yourmusic tells me all I want to know about you." He rose and led them backout onto the balcony. "I know now you can understand why I also want tocreate something of beauty someday. A Mahal that will last as long asthis music. If we cannot taste love and beauty, our hearts are dead."He smiled at Hawksworth. "There is love in your music, Captain. Yourheart is as it should be. And in the end, nothing else really matters.Nothing else."

  He turned and stared pensively into the twilight. "My Mahal will haveit too. Because it is in my own heart."

  Jadar stopped abruptly and gazed toward the darkening shore. Throughthe dimming light a boat could be seen approaching, rowed furiously bylines of red-cloaked oarsmen. Sitting in the center on a gildedplatform was Maharana Karan Singh, wearing full battle dress. Hispowerful bow hung loosely from his leather quiver and his rhino-hideshield rested at his side. Jadar studied th
e boat for a moment andconcern gathered in his eyes.

  "He would never come here unannounced. Merciful

  Allah, has the Imperial army moved against us already? How can it be sosoon? My preparations have scarcely begun."

  Jadar watched as the maharana leaped from the boat almost before ittouched the marble dock. The women around Mumtaz fled the courtyard,and now the eunuchs pressed forward to bow and welcome him. He brushedthem aside as he moved quickly through the garden and into the lowerarcade of the palace. Jadar stood listening expectantly to the quickpad of his footsteps on the stone stairs, then walked inside to greethim.

  "Nimaste, my friend. You've already missed the best part of the sunset,but I'll have more _sharbat _sent."

  The maharana glanced in surprise at Hawksworth and Shirin for a second,then turned and bowed quickly to Jadar.

  "The news is very bad, Highness."

  "Then we'll sweeten it with _sharbat_."

  "There is no time, Highness."

  "There's always time for _sharbat_. This has been a special afternoonfor me."

  "Highness, I came to tell you Arangbar is dead. The Moghul of Indiajoined the immortals two days ago."

  Jadar examined him a moment almost as though not comprehending. Then heturned and stared out through the balcony doorway, past Hawksworth andShirin. "I would not have wished it. I sincerely would not have wishedit." He turned back to Karan Singh. "How did he die? Did Janaharamurder my father, as she's killed so many others?"

  "No, Highness. It almost seems as though he deemed it his time to die.Two weeks ago he was hunting and saw a beater stumble and fall over aledge, killing himself. His Majesty grew despondent, saying he hadcaused the man's death. Next he began to declare it an omen of his owndeath. He refused food and drink. Finally even the physiciansdespaired. He died in his bed. Word was given out that he was stillhunting, so the news was carefully kept from all of Agra until the veryend."

  "How did you learn?"

  "Nadir Sharif sent runners. He dared not send a pigeon."

  Jadar walked out onto the balcony and peered down into the darkenedgarden. After a long moment he spoke. "Allah. Then it's finished." Heturned back to the Rajput. "Has Janahara declared Allaudin Moghul yet?"

  "She has announced she will do so, Highness." Karan Singh moved outonto the balcony next to Jadar, hesitant to interrupt his thoughts. Thecries of water birds flooded the evening air around them. Jadar studiedthe garden again, as though lost in some distant reverie. When he spokehis voice seemed to emanate from a bottomless void.

  "Allaudin will be in the Red Fort. It can never be taken, not even witha hundred thousand Rajputs. He will never come to face me. He willnever need to." He turned slowly to Karan Singh. "I've lost it all, myfriend. And I've brought ignominy to your lands by my presence as yourguest. For that I am truly sorry."

  Karan Singh stared at Jadar. "But Highness, Allaudin may not yet be inAgra. You know he wanted Queen Janahara to appoint him to command thearmy sent against you. Naturally she refused and instead convincedArangbar to appoint him commander of the forces to be sent against thePersian Safavis threatening the northwest fortress of Qandahar. It wasobvious to everyone except Allaudin that she meant it to be merely aceremonial appointment, an excuse to elevate his _mansab _rank to equalyours. She had carefully arranged to have him detained in Agra. But hedecided on his own that he would actually go north, to prove himself acommander. Just before the hunting accident, he persuaded Arangbar toallow him to march. Arangbar was apparently drunk on wine and approvedthe order before Janahara discovered it. Allaudin departed Agra a weekago with twenty thousand men and a huge train of courtiers. Because oftheir numbers, it's thought he has traveled very slowly. But NadirSharif said as of the day before yesterday he still had not returned toAgra. No one knows for sure how near he may actually be."

  "And where are Inayat Latif and the Imperial army?" Jadar's voicequickened.

  "Of that we're not yet certain, Highness. They may be in

  Agra by now, holding the Red Fort for Allaudin, but we have no way toknow."

  Jadar turned and seized his arm. "Then I will ride. Tonight. Have youtold my men?"

  "Two thousand of my men are now in their saddles waiting, Highness. Bysunup another twenty thousand will be ready to ride."

  Jadar stared at him for a moment, then reached out and touched theturban the Rajput was wearing. Hawksworth realized it was Jadar's gift.

  "Then give me three of your best horses. Tonight. I will rotate as Iride." Jadar turned and ordered a waiting eunuch to bring his ridingcloak, his sword, and his katar.

  "I will be riding with you too, Highness." Karan Singh stepped forward.

  This time Jadar embraced Karan Singh for a long moment. Then he pulledback. "No. I will not allow it. If I am too late--and the odds arestrong against me--no one who rides with me will leave Agra alive. No,my friend, this I forbid." Jadar silenced Karan Singh's gesture ofprotest. "Your offer is enough. I want my good friends alive."

  Jadar started for the stairs, then paused and turned back to look onelast time at Hawksworth and Shirin.

  "So our farewell was more timely than we knew. I regret we did not havelonger." He paused to take his riding cloak from the eunuch. Then hereached for Hawksworth's hand. "Remember me, my friend. And rememberthe Mahal. I've told no one else. If I'm still alive when you comeagain to Agra, I'll take you there. If I'm dead, remember what Idreamed."

  He turned and disappeared down the stairwell.

  A tear stained Shirin's cheek as she watched him move across thecourtyard below. When he reached Mumtaz, anxiously waiting by the dock,he paused and said something to her, then embraced her closely. As hepulled away, she reached out to stop him. But he was already joiningthe maharana in the boat. In moments they were swallowed in the dusk.

  "None of us will ever see him again. You know it's true." Shirin'svoice was strangely quiet. "What does it matter where Allaudin is?Prince Jadar can never challenge the troops Janahara will have holdingthe Red Fort. Not with two thousand Rajputs, not with two hundredthousand Rajputs. It's impregnable. He'll never see the inside of theRed Fort again." She moved next to him and rested her head against hischest. "Will you help me remember him from tonight. And the Mahal hewill never live to build?"

  "I'll remember it all." He encircled her in his arms, wanting herwarmth, and together they watched the last shafts of sun die in thedark waters below.

  * * *

  LONDON

  Sir Randolph Spencer studied the leatherbound packet for a longmoment, turning it apprehensively in his hand. Then he meticulouslyuntied the wrapping and smoothed the weathered parchment against thetop of his desk. Around the timbered room the Company's secretarieswaited nervously, in prim wigs and doublets, watching as he quicklyscanned the contents. Then he looked up, beamed, and with a loud voicebegan to read.

  JAVA, Port of Bantam the 3rd of May,

  George Elkington, Chief Merchant,

  to the Right Honorable Sir Randolph Spencer, Director of the WorshipfulCompany of the East India Merchants in London

  Honorable Sir,