"Who can know? But I would not be surprised to see the prince betrayed
totally, in one final act that will eventually destroy him. He is too
isolated. Too weak. And when that happens we're all doomed. Even you,
though I don't think you'll believe that now."
"Why should I? I'm not betting on Prince Jadar. I agree with you. I
don't think he has a chance. I'm betting on a _firman _from Arangbar,
and soon."
"You'll never get a _firman _from the Moghul. And Arangbar will be gone
in half a year. The queen has already started appearing at morning
_darshan _and directing his decisions at afternoon _durbar_. As soon as
she has Allaudin under her control, Arangbar will be finished. Mark it.
He'll die from too much opium, or from some mysterious poison or
accident. He will cease to exist, to matter."
"I don't believe it. He seems pretty well in control."
"If that's what you think, then you are very deceived. He can't live
much longer. Everyone knows it. Perhaps even he knows it in his heart.
Soon he will give up even the appearance of rule. Then the queen will
take full command of the Imperial army, and Prince Jadar will be hunted
down like a wild boar."
He studied her, not sure he could reasonable contradict her, and felt
his stomach knot. "What will happen to you, if the queen takes over?"
"I don't know. But I do know I love you. I truly do. How
sad it makes me that I can't tell you everything." Her eyes darkened
and she took his hand. "Please understand I did not know the prince
would use you the way he has. But it is for good. Try to believe that."
"What do you mean?"
She hesitated and looked away. "Let me ask you this. What do you think
the prince will do after the wedding?"
"I don't know, but I think he'd be very wise to keep clear of Agra.
Nobody at court will even talk about him now, at least not openly.
Still, I think he might be able to stay alive if he's careful. If he
survives the campaign in the Deccan, maybe he can bargain something out
of the queen. But I agree with you about one thing. She can finish him
any time she wants. I understand she already has de facto control of
the Imperial army, in Arangbar's name of course. What can Jadar do?
He's outnumbered beyond any reasonable odds. Maybe she'll make him a
governor in the south if he doesn't challenge her."
"Do you really believe he'd accept that? Can't you see that's
impossible? You've met Prince Jadar. Do you think he'll just give up?
That's the one thing he'll never do. He has a son now. The people will
support him." She pulled herself next to him. "I feel so isolated and
hopeless just thinking about it all. I'm so glad Nadir Sharif brought
you here."
He slipped his arm around her. "So am I. Will you tell me now how you
managed to make him do it?"
"I still have friends left in Agra." She smiled. "And Nadir Sharif
still has a few indiscretions he'd like kept buried. Sometimes he can
be persuaded . . ."
"Did he know Samad was here?"
"If he didn't before, he does now. But he won't say anything. Anyway,
it hardly matters any more. The queen probably already knows Samad's
here." She sighed. "The worst is still waiting. For him. And for both
of us."
He caught a handful of water and splashed it against her thigh. "Then
let's not talk about it. Until tomorrow."
The worry in her eyes seemed to dissolve and she laughed. "Do you
realize how much you've changed since I first met you? You were as
stiff as a Portuguese Jesuit then, before Kali and Kamala got their
painted fingernails into you. Kali, the lover of the flesh, and Kamala,
the lover of the spirit." She glared momentarily. "Now I must take
care, lest you start comparing me with them. Never forget. I'm
different. I believe love should be both."
He pulled her away and looked at her face. "I'm amazed by how different
you are. I still have no idea what you're really like. What you really
think."
"About what?"
"Anything. Everything." He shrugged. "About this even."
"You mean being here with you? Making love with you?"
"That's a perfect place to start."
She smiled and eased back in the water, silently toying for a moment
with the rose petals drifting around her. "I think making love with
someone is how we share our deepest feelings. Things we can't express
any other way. It's how I tell you my love for you." She paused. "The
way music or poetry reveal the soul of the one who creates them."
"Are you saying you think lovemaking is like creating music?" He
examined her, puzzling.
"They both express what we feel inside."
He lifted up a handful of water and watched it trickle back into the
pool. "I've never thought of it quite like that before."
"Why not? It's true. Before you can create music, you have to teach
both your body and your heart. It's the same with making love."
"What do you mean?"
She reached and touched his thigh. "When we're very young, lovemaking
is mostly just desire. We may think it's more, but it isn't really.
Then gradually we learn more of its ways, how to give and receive. But
even then we still don't fully understand its deeper significance.
We're like a novice who has learned the techniques of the sitar, the
way to strike and pull a string to make one note blend into another,
but who still doesn't comprehend the spiritual depth of a raga. Its
power to move our heart. We still don't understand that its meaning and
feeling can only come from within. And love, like a raga, is an
expression of reverence and of wonder. Wonder at what we are and can
be. So even after all the techniques are mastered, we still must learn
to experience this wonder, this sense of our spirit becoming one with
the other. Otherwise it's somehow still empty. Like perfect music that
has no feeling, no life."
He was silent for a moment, trying to comprehend what she was saying.
"If you look at it like that, I suppose you could be right."
"With music, we first have to learn its language, then learn to open
our spirit. Lovemaking is just the same."
She nestled her head against his chest, sending her warmth through him.
As he held her, he noticed lying alongside the pool the garland of
flowers she had worn the night before. He reached and took it and
slipped it over her head. Then he kissed her gently, finding he was
indeed filled with wonder at the feeling he had for her.
He held her silently for a time, looking at the paintings on the walls
of the palace around them. Then he noticed a large straw basket at the
entryway.
"What is that?" He pointed.