drummer suddenly pounded out a loud, rhythmic fanfare, and then the
sitarist took up a martial motif. The brocade drapery hanging inside a
marble archway at the back of the room was drawn aside by a guard and a
moment later Arangbar swept into the room. The courtiers all bowed in
the _teslim_, rising with their hands on their forehead.
Arangbar had changed to evening dress. He wore a dark velvet turban
encrusted with jewels, tight-fitting patterned trousers beneath a
transparent muslin skirt, and a gold brocade cinch at his waist. He
clapped his hands in delight when he saw Hawksworth holding a wine cup.
"The ambassador has already tasted our Persian wine. How do you find
it, Ambassador . . . Khaw . . . ?" He stumbled over the name. "Wait.
The first thing we must do is rename you. Henceforth we will call you
'Inglish.' Now, have we pronounced that properly?"
"Perfectly, Your Majesty. And, so please Your Majesty, the wine is
excellent, though perhaps not as sweet as the wines of Europe."
"Every _feringhi _says the same, Inglish. But we will civilize you. And
also teach you something about painting." He seized a glass of wine
from a waiting eunuch and then shouted to Nadir Sharif, who had entered
moments before from the back. "Where are my five paintings?"
"I'm told they will be ready before Your Majesty retires. The painters
are still hard at work, so please Your Majesty."
"It does not please me, but then I have no wager." He roared with
amusement. "Your stables will be reduced by a prize stallion come
morning if the paintings are not ready soon. Look to it."
As Nadir Sharif bowed in acknowledgment, Arangbar whirled to
Hawksworth.
"Tell me something about your king, Inglish? How many wives does he
have? We have hundreds."
"He has but one, Your Majesty, and I believe she is mostly for show.
King James prefers the company of young men."
"Very like most Christians I've met. And you, Inglish. Have you any
wives?" Arangbar had already finished his first glass of wine and taken
a second.
"I have none, Your Majesty."
"But you, I suspect, are not a Jesuit, or a eunuch."
"No, Your Majesty."
"Then we shall find you a wife, Inglish." He took a ball of opium and
washed it down with wine. "No, we will find you two. Yes, you shall be
well wived."
"May it please Your Majesty, I have no means to care for a wife. I am
here for only a season." Hawksworth shifted uncomfortably.
"You will only leave Agra, Inglish, when it is our pleasure. But if you
will not have a wife, you must at least have a house."
"I am arranging it now, Your Majesty."
Arangbar looked at Hawksworth sharply, then continued as though he had
not heard.
"Now tell us more about your king. We would know what he's like."
Hawksworth bowed as he tried to collect his thoughts. The wine was
already toying with his brain. Although most of what he knew about King
James was hearsay, he knew he did not care for England's new king
overly much. No English subject did. And idle seamen had reason to
dislike him the most of all. He was not the sovereign Elizabeth had
been.
"He's of middle stature, Your Majesty, not overly fat though he seems
so since he always wears quilted, stiletto-proof doublets."