Part 25 (1/2)

”It's _tari _wine, Sahib. One of the pleasures of early morning in India.” His matter-of-fact manner could not entirely hide his pride.

”Palm wine makes itself overnight. It does not last out the day. When the sun s.h.i.+nes the trees only give off vinegar.”

Hawksworth gingerly sipped the newly fermented palm sap and was pleasantly surprised by its light flavor, totally unlike ale, or even Canary wine. After the third cup, the world around began to acquire a light sparkle of its own, and he realized the sap was more potent than it seemed.

”Not a bad way to start the day. What do you call it?”

”It comes from the _tari _palm, and some _topiwallahs _call it Toddy.'”

”Toddy, it's called? It's more than pa.s.sable grog.”

”Thank you, Sahib. Drink too much and you will spend the day with your head in a buzz.” The servant giggled. ”So now perhaps you should eat.”

He consulted briefly with the eunuchs, who nodded and signaled toward the veranda. Moments later a tray appeared, piled high with honey- covered breads and gla.s.s dishes of sweet curds. Some hard cheese also had found its way onto the tray, and Hawksworth wondered if this was to placate his European taste. He sipped more of the Toddy and munched the bread and curds.

Then he saw the women.

There were five. They seemed cl.u.s.tered in a group as they entered the courtyard, but then he realized it was an aristocratic lady surrounded by four maids. They did not know he was there, for none covered her face. As he watched them they seemed preoccupied in an increasingly animated exchange. Then the aristocratic woman stepped determinedly ahead, turned, and curtly gave instructions whose seriousness was clear, even if her words were foreign. Her voice was not strident, but its authority was unmistakable.

The other women paused, then slowly, one by one, they seemed to acknowledge her orders and they bowed. The lady whirled and continued on her way, while the other four women turned toward the direction they had come. Then, as though the resolution of the argument had suddenly made them aware of their surroundings, they all seemed to see Hawksworth at once. All five women froze.

Hawksworth smiled and tried to remember the bow he had seen performed to him so often. But he could not remove his eyes from the first woman, who was more striking than any he had ever before seen. Her skin was fair, with a warm hint of olive, and her high cheekbones stood in stunning relief as they glanced away the golden light of dawn. Her nose was thin and sculptured, while her lips would have been full, had they not been drawn tight in response to some unspecified inner determination. Yet her eyes seemed untouched by what had just transpired. They were clear and receptive, even warm, and Hawksworth asked himself at that moment if this bespoke innocence, or guile.

In dress and adornment she scarcely differed from her maids. All had long black hair, brushed to gleaming and protected from the morning air with a transparent gossamer scarf edged in gold embroidery. At first glance there seemed little to distinguish among the tight strands of pearls each wore at the neck, or the jeweled bands on their wrists and upper arms. Each wore a tight silk halter for a blouse, and to Hawksworth's a.s.sessing eyes the maids all seemed to have abundant b.r.e.a.s.t.s swelling their halters to overflowing, some--perhaps all--with b.r.e.a.s.t.s more generous than the lady herself. Then he noted in amazement that the women actually wore a form of tapered silk trouser, a tight- legged pajama similar to that worn by aristocratic men.

Unlike the male style, however, each woman's body was enveloped by a long transparent skirt, suspended from a

band that circled her torso just beneath her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. And whereas men all wore a long scarf tied about the waist of their cloaks and hanging down the front, the women all had a long pleated panel tucked directly into the front waistband of their trousers and reaching almost to the ground. He could not help noticing that it clung sensually to their thighs as they walked, while its gold-embroidered hem tinkled against the gold bracelets each woman wore at her ankles. Their shoes were red Turkish leather, with gold decorations sewn across the top and a pointed toe that curved upward.

The only difference between the lady and her maids seemed to be in the rich fabric of her lightly clinging trousers. Then, too, there was slightly more gold thread in her long transparent skirt, and among the pearls at her neck nestled an unmistakable blue sapphire as large as a walnut.

But her primary distinction was not merely the cla.s.sic lines of her face or the perfect curve of her waist and thighs, but rather something in her bearing, in her a.s.sured but unmannered carriage. Her real beauty lay in her breeding.

All five women stared at Hawksworth in momentary surprise and shock.

Then each maid automatically seized her transparent scarf and pulled it across her lower face. The woman also moved instinctively to do the same, but then she seemed to consciously stop herself and with an obvious attempt at restraint she walked on, barefaced, past the courtyard and into the garden beyond. Alone.

Hawksworth watched her form disappear among the clipped hedges and elaborate marble pavilions of the garden. He noticed a curious sensation in his chest as she pa.s.sed from view, and he suddenly found himself wanting very much to follow her. When he finally turned and looked back, the other women had already vanished.

Only then did he realize that all the servants had been watching him.

The one nearest nodded in the direction of the garden and smiled knowingly.

”Perhaps it will not surprise you, Sahib, to learn that she was once the favorite of the Moghul himself. And now she is in Surat. Amazing.”

”But why's she here?” Hawksworth glanced back at the

garden once more to a.s.sure himself she was indeed lost to its recesses.

”She is s.h.i.+rin, the first wife of Khan Sahib.” He moved closer to Hawksworth, so that his lowered voice would not reach the eunuchs. ”She was removed from the Moghul's _zenana _and married to Khan Sahib last year by Queen Janahara, just before Her Majesty had him appointed the governor of Surat. Some believe she appointed him here to remove s.h.i.+rin from Agra, because she feared her.” The servant's voice became a whisper. ”We all know she has refused His Excellency the legal rights of a husband.”

The silence of the court was cut by the unmistakable voice of Mukarrab Khan, sounding in anger as he gave some command from within the palace.

There followed a chorus of women's wails.