_
She listened to the hard English rhythm and then to his translation,
awkward and halting. Then she was silent for a moment, floating her
hand across the surface of the pond.
"You know, I also wonder now what I did before I met you. Before I held
you."
She slipped her hands about his neck, and as she did he drew her up out
of the water and cradled her against him. Then he lifted her, her body
still strewn with rose petals, and carried her slowly up the marble
stairs to the couch of Akman. He felt her cling to him like no woman
ever had, and as he placed her on the bed, she took his face in her
hands and kissed him for a long moment. Then he heard her whisper.
"Tonight we will know just each other. And there will be nothing else."
And they gave each to each until there was nothing more to give because
each was the other. Together, complete.
He was on the quarterdeck, the whipstaff aching against his hand, the
mainsail furled as storm winds lashed the waist of the ship with wave
after powerful wave. The ship was the _Queen's Hope_, his vessel when
he sailed for the Levant Company, and the rocks that towered off his
starboard bow were Gibraltar. He shouted into the dark for the
quartermaster to reef the tops'ls, and he leaned on the whipstaff to
bring her about, but neither responded. He had no crew. He was being
swept, helpless, toward the empty darkness that lay ahead. Another wave
caught him across the face, and somewhere in the dark came a screech,
as though the sea had given up some dying Leviathan beast. His seaboots
were losing their hold on the quarterdeck, and now the whipstaff had
grown sharp talons that cut into his hand. Then a woman's voice, a
distant siren calling him. Again the screech and then yet another wave
cut across his face.
The water tasted of roses. . . .
He jerked violently awake. On his hand a green parrot was perched,
preening itself and ruffling its feathers. And from the pool below
Shirin was flinging handfuls of water up over the side of the platform,
laughing as she tried to splash his face.
She was floating, naked, below him, her hair streaming out across the
surface of the water, tangled among the drifting rose petals. He looked
about and saw his own wet clothes, mingled among her silks and jewels.
For a moment he felt again the terror of the dream, the rudderless ship
impelled by something beyond control, and then he caught the edge of
the platform and slipped over the side.
The water was cool against his skin and involuntarily he caught his
breath. Then he reached out and wrapped her in his arms, pulling her
against him. She turned her face to his, twined her hair around his
head, and crushed his lips with her own. Just as suddenly, she threw
back her head and laughed with joy. He found himself laughing with her.
"Why don't we both just stay? I don't have to be back in Agra until the
wedding. We could have a week." He studied the perfect lines of her
face, the dark eyes at once defiant and anxious, and wished he could
hold her forever. The Worshipful East India Company be damned.
"But we both have things we must do." She revolved in the flowered
water and drew her face above his. She kissed him again, languorously.
Then she drew herself out of the water and twisted a wrap around her,
covering her breasts. "Both you and I."
"And what's this thing you have to do?"
Her eyes shadowed. "One thing I must try to do is convince Samad he
cannot stay here any longer. He has to go south, where Prince Jadar can
protect him. But he refuses to listen. And time is growing short now. I
truly fear for what may happen to him after the wedding. The Persian
Shi'ite mullahs will certainly be powerful enough then to demand he be
tried and executed on charges of heresy. For violating some obscure
precept of Islamic law. It will be the end for him." She paused. "And
for anyone who has helped him."
"Then if he won't leave, at least you should." He lifted himself out of
the water and settled beside her on the marble paving. "Why don't you
come back to England with me? When the fleet from Bantam makes landfall
at Surat, Arangbar will surely have the courage to sign the _firman_,
and then my mission will be finished. It should only be a matter of
weeks, regardless of what the Portugals try to do."
She studied the water of the pool with sadness in her eyes and said
nothing for a moment as she kicked the surface lightly.
"Neither of us is master of what will happen. Things are going to soon
be out of control. For both of us. Things are going to happen that you
will not understand."