Thomas Hoover - The Moghul

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

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

"Will the maharana support you with his cavalry?"

Jadar fell silent, as though choosing his words carefully. Then he shrugged away discretion. "I think he might, but I still don't know. I hear that many of the other ranas of Rajputana have warned him not to side with me openly. They still remember the devastation Inayat Latif wrought here fifteen years ago, when he was sent by Arangbar to put down their rebellion. Rajputs love to battle, but not amid their own cities and fields. And that's easy to understand. Rana Karan Singh is in a difficult position. He knows if I stand here and fight, the battle could well destroy Udaipur."

"What will you do?"

"I'll probably have to move out soon, and move quickly, farther north into the mountains or back south to Burhanpur. I can't stand and fight again, not yet. That's one of the reasons I sent for you." He turned to face Hawksworth. "I think it's time you left India. No one in Agra except Nadir Sharif knows you're alive. But it's obvious you can't return there, not under the present circumstances. It's probably best that you return to England, at least until my fortunes are Resolved. 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 for me to leave. And besides, I have no way to return to England now. The Company is supposed to send a voyage this autumn, but…"

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

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

Jadar looked at him and smiled. "But Shirin has to leave with you. Her life is no safer here now than yours." He fixed them both squarely. "I hereby command her to accompany you. You can both return to India someday… if Allah is kind and I succeed. And you'll be first among all 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 king will not be accused someday of aiding a renegade. I hereby order you both 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 most about you. But I'm sending you away, ordering you to go. I'll always remember it was against your will." Jadar looked up to see a eunuch entering with a tray of cups. "Now for your drink. I ordered my kitchen to make panch for you-I understand the topiwallahs in Surat think it's called 'punch.'"

"Punch? What is it?"

"An Indian delicacy. A special blend of wine, water, sugar, lemons, and spices. Five ingredients. Actually, panch is just the Hindi word for five.' Try it."

Hawksworth tasted the perfumed red mixture, slices of lemon rind floating on its surface. It was so delicious he almost drank it off at one gulp. Jadar watched him, smiling, then lifted a cup of sharbat from the tray and gestured the eunuch toward Shirin. "I gather you find it acceptable."

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

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

"Nothing would please me more."

"I think you mean it. And I want you to believe me when I tell you that nothing would please me more. Together we'll rid India of the Portuguese scourge forever." Jadar lifted his cap in a toast and Hawksworth 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 he murdered my father in Goa, many years ago."

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

"I'll drink to it."

"And I'll drink with you." Jadar took a deep swallow of sharbat. "To England and India. And now, for the other reason I asked you both here today. To see what you think about something. It's curious, but living here in this little palace, I've found myself growing obsessed by an idea. I'd like to know if you think it's mad." He drank again, then signaled the waiting eunuch to refill their cups. "If I become Moghul one day, I've decided to build something very special for Mumtaz, a work of beauty unlike anything India has ever seen. Staying here on Jagmandir Island has given me the idea. But first come inside and let me show you something."

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

"Do you see what he's done here?" Jadar motioned Hawksworth and Shirin closer. "This is far more than merely a design. It's actually a painting in rare, colored stone-onyx, carnelian, jasper, agate." Jadar paused. "Think carefully. Have either of you ever seen anything like this in Agra?"

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

"Of course you haven't. This is unique. It's truly astonishing. Here on Jagmandir Island, with the design of this room, Rana Karan Singh has actually invented a new style of art. It's phenomenal. Now look up." Jadar pointed to the cupola ceiling. "Notice the sensuous curve of the dome. Like a bud just before it bursts into flower. And at the top you see more inlays of precious stone. I think it's the most magnificent thing I've ever seen. Its shape and color and purity move me almost to tears." He paused and looked at Hawksworth mischievously. "So can you guess 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 of gift would that be for Mumtaz? No, Captain, if I should eventually find myself ruling India, I've decided to build Mumtaz an entire palace like this, a Mahal, all of white marble and inlay. I'll surround it with a garden larger and more beautiful than anything India has ever seen. It will be a place of love and of mystery, with the strength of a Rajput warrior in the harsh sunshine, the warmth of a Persian woman in the moonlight. The outside will be covered with verses from the Quran carved in marble, and inside the walls will be a garden of jeweled flowers. Minarets will rise at each corner, calling all India to prayer, and its dome will be a cupola with the subtle, sensuous curve of a ripening bud. It will be immense, the most magnificent Mahal in the 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, as he drank again from his sharbat. "So now you know the other reason I invited you here this afternoon. To tell you what you may see when you return to Agra. I haven't decided on the exact location yet, but it will be on the bank of the Jamuna, placed so Mumtaz can watch the sun set over the water, just as we do here. I wanted to tell you both, for I sense you two are among the few who could really appreciate what a bold idea this is." Jadar looked sharply at Shirin. "Now, you must never, never tell Mumtaz, whatever else you two Persians may chatter on about. For now let's keep it a secret among us. But someday, someday it will tell all the world how much I love her." He sighed. "You know, at times I worry I'm nothing more than a romantic Persian myself, deep inside."