Part 54 (1/2)
”There's a rumor in Surat that the Shahbandar, Mirza Nuruddin, is hiding her in the women's quarters of his estate house. But actually she left for Agra the next day, by the northern road. I'm very worried what may happen to her there.”
”How do you know all this? It sounds like bazaar gossip.”
”It's all true enough. She sent a pigeon, to the fortress here. The message was waiting when we arrived.”
”It's good she's out of Surat. With Mukarrab Khan gone, she's no longer any help there. But I've always wanted to thank her somehow. She's one of the best. And our only woman. I don't think anyone ever guessed what she really did.”
”I will thank her for you. Her message was a request. Something only I could arrange. A favor for a favor.”
”And what was that?”
”Just something between women, my love. Nothing to do with armies and wars.” Mumtaz s.h.i.+fted on the bolster and took a perfumed pan. ”Allah, I'm tired.”
Jadar studied her face again, marveling as always how it seemed to attest to her spirit.
”Then rest. I hope the cannon won't disturb you.”
”It should have been another girl. Then there'd be no cannon.”
”And no heir.” Jadar turned to leave and Mumtaz eased herself back on the bolster. Then she lifted herself again and called Jadar.
”Who is escorting the English _feringhi_ to Agra?”
”Unfortunately it's Vasant Rao. And just when I need him. But he demanded to do it personally.”
”I'm glad.” Mumtaz smiled weakly. ”Have him see one of my servants before they leave.”
”Why should I bother him with that?”
”To humor me.” She paused. ”Is this _feringhi_ handsome?”
”Why do you ask?”
”A woman's curiosity.”
”I haven't seen him yet. I do suspect he's quick. Perhaps too quick.
But I'll find out more tomorrow. And then I'll decide what I have to do.” Jadar paused at the doorway, while the dai pulled aside the curtains that had been newly hung. ”Sleep. And watch over my new prince. He's our first victory in the Deccan. I pray to Allah he's not our last.”
He turned and was gone. Minutes later the cannon salutes began.
Hawksworth began to count the stone stairs after the third twisting turn of the descending corridor, and his eyes searched through the smoke and flickering torchlight for some order in the arched doorways that opened out on each level as they went farther and farther down. Ail object struck him across the face and his hand plunged for his sword, before he remembered he had left it in his quarters, on Jadar's command. Then he heard the high-pitched shriek of a bat and saw it flutter into the shadows. The torchbearers were ten Rajputs of Jadar's personal guard, armed with the usual swords and half-pikes.
None spoke as their footsteps clattered through the musty subterranean air.
Hawksworth felt the dankness against the beads of sweat forming on his skin. As the old memory of a dark prison welled up, he suddenly realized he was terrified.
Why did I agree to meet him here? This is not ”the lower level of the fortress.” This is a dungeon. But he can't detain me, not with a safe conduct pa.s.s from the Moghul.
Still, he might try. If he wants to keep me out of Agra while he's away on campaign. And he may. I already smell this campaign is doomed.