"No, not the Inglish." Arangbar waved Nadir Sharif aside. "He must
follow his own custom. Now, give him the pearl."
Nadir Sharif took a large pearl from the box and stood before
Hawksworth.
"This you must wear in your left ear, where your gold earring is now."
Hawksworth examined the pearl. It was immense, and perfect.
"Again I thank Your Majesty." Hawksworth looked up to see Arangbar
beaming. "How shall I wear it?"
"My jeweler will fit it for you, Inglish."
A wry, portly man stepped forward and quickly removed the small gold
earring from Hawksworth's ear. Just as deftly, he attached the pearl
where it had been.
"And now, Inglish, I will bestow on you the highest favor of my court."
He turned and signaled another eunuch to come forward. The eunuch
carried a cloak woven with gold. "This cloak I have myself worn, then
kept aside to bestow on a worthy disciple. It is for you."
Arangbar took the cloak himself and laid it over Hawksworth's
shoulders.
"I thank Your Majesty. The honor is more than I could ever merit."
"That may well be true, Inglish." Arangbar roared. "But it's yours. You
speak my tongue and you drink almost as well. Few men here today can
equal you. And you have the wits of ten Portuguese. I think you deserve
to be one of my _khans_." Arangbar signaled for him to rise. "Your
salary will begin with the next lunar month. After that you will be
known in this court as the Inglish Khan. Day after tomorrow you will
ride with us in _shikar_, the royal hunt. You may soon decide you like
India better than England. Have you ever seen a tiger?"
"Never, Your Majesty."
"You will soon enough. Day after tomorrow. So you had best do your
drinking now, for tigers require a clear head." Arangbar laughed again
and clapped and the tension in the courtyard semed to evaporate. The
singer immediately began a second raga.
As Hawksworth fingered the earring, the medal, and the cloak, he found
himself remembering Huyghen's burning eyes that day in the London
alehouse. "You'll forget who you are," the old seaman had said. Could
this be what he meant?
But maybe it's not so bad after all, he told himself. It's like a dream
come true. And when the fleet makes landfall. . . .
. . . "Of course I've heard. It was my idea. Although His Majesty
naturally assumes he thought of it all by himself. Making the _feringhi
_a _khan _will confuse the Portuguese. And it will take everyone's mind
off the _firman _for a while." Queen Janahara had received Nadir Sharif
immediately after Arangbar retired to the _zenana_ for his afternoon
dalliance. The balcony of the Jasmine Tower was empty, the servants all
ordered back to the _zenana_. I'm more interested in the English fleet.
Do you know what has happened?"
"What do you mean, Majesty?" Nadir Sharif noted that he had not been
invited to sit.
"There was another message today, a private message from His
Excellency, Miguel Vaijantes." Janahara raised a silver, hourglass-
shaped cuspidor to her lips and delicately discharged red betel juice.
"Can you guess what he has dared to do?"
"What do you mean?"
"Miguel Vaijantes is a man without courage. The understanding was very
clear."
"The understanding, Your Majesty?"
"We have kept our side of the agreement. There has been no _firman _for
the English _feringhi_. But now His Excellency has declared that he
must off-load the arms. He has begun assembling an armada to sail north
and intercept the English."
"The arms, Your Majesty?" Nadir Sharif moved closer. "Miguel Vaijantes
was shipping arms?"
"Surely you knew. My dear brother, has anything ever escaped your
rapacious eyes." She smiled, then spat again. "For Ahmadnagar. Small
arms and cannon."
"You were arming Malik Ambar? Against Jadar?" Nadir Sharif could not
strain the surprise from his voice.
"We were not arming him. The Portuguese were. Miguel Vaijantes was to
have armed a Maratha division on the western coast, off-loading at a
Portuguese port called Bom Bahia, on the coast west of Ahmadnagar. He
had his own reasons, but now it seems he has lost his nerve. I had no
idea how alarmed these Portuguese were by the English."
Nadir Sharifs mind was reeling. Say something, anything.
"If I may inject a word on His Excellency's behalf, Majesty, you must
understand that matters between the Portuguese and the English are
extremely delicate at the moment." Nadir Sharif's voice grew more
statesmanlike as he spoke. He scarcely heard his own words as his mind
plowed through the consequences of it all. And the treachery. "The
English could conceivably interrupt the entire trade of the Portuguese.
All the prince could ever possibly do would be to tighten restrictions
on our ports at Surat and Cambay. The Viceroy's decision is clearly
strategic, nothing more. I'm sure the regard he holds for Your Majesty
remains undiminished."
"That is a touching consolation." Janahara's voice was frigid, and she
seemed suddenly much older.
Footsteps sounded through the marble corridor and Allaudin appeared at
the doorway. He had changed to a foppish green turban, set off by an
effeminate necklace of rubies. His elaborate _katar _was secured by a
sash of gold- threaded brocade, and an emerald was set at the top of
each slipper. He wore heavy perfume.
"Your Majesty." He salaamed to Queen Janahara and then stood
attentively, somewhat sheepishly, until she gestured for him to sit.
"You're late."
"I was detained in my quarters, Majesty."
Janahara seemed completely preoccupied, unable even to look at the
prince. "The question now is what to do about the Englishman."
"What do you mean?" Allaudin did not trouble to mask his sneer. "It's
perfectly clear. His Majesty adores the _feringhi_. He'll surely sign
the _firman_ for English trade. Then there'll be a war on the seas.
It's really most exciting."
"The _firman_ is not yet signed." Janahara moved to the balcony and
studied the river below. Her walk was purposeful, yet still the
perfection of elegance. "Nor do I think it ever will be. His Majesty
will not have the time. The wedding will be moved forward. Before His
Highness, Prince Jadar, has the leisure to trouble us more."
Janahara turned and examined the two men, one her brother and one her
future son-in-law, finding herself astonished by their credulity.
Somehow, she told herself, the hand of Jadar lies behind all this. The
coincidence was just too great. First, he had succeeded in raising
troops from the southern _mansabdars_. And now the Deccanis could not
be armed. Could he possibly still forge a peace in the Deccan. Still,
after the wedding he would be isolated. Then what he did would no
longer matter. But if the _firman _were signed, there would no longer
be leverage with the Portuguese.
Janahara looked directly at Nadir Sharif. "If His Majesty signs the
_firman _before the wedding, you will be held responsible."
"I understand, Majesty." Nadir Sharif shifted. "When will the wedding
be?"
"I think it would be auspicious to hold it the week following the
birthday celebration. Which means the preparations must begin now."
"Hold the wedding immediately after the hunt? There's scarcely time."
"There will be time. For that and more." Janahara turned to Allaudin.
"And you would do well to start spending more time with a sword and
bow, and less with your pretty slave girls. I will know before long if
you are a match for Jadar. I pray to Allah I don't already suspect the
answer."