Part 58 (1/2)
”I can only say that if other English are like this man, then they are a determined race. He seems to seek the new because it is there, yet perhaps not knowing what he will do with it once it is his.”
”What do you mean?”
”The Englishman, Hawksworth. He claims to be here for his king and his king only. But I sense this is only partly true. He is a man of complex desires.”
”Then why is he here?”
”I think he is here also for himself. He wants something.”
”Perhaps it's to make war on the Portuguese?”
”He will not shrink from it. But I think his own coming to India is to find something. He is searching, for what I cannot say. He is a man of curious parts. He spoke once of spending time in prison. And he is devoted to playing a small stringed instrument. He understands the tongue of the Moghuls, and he questions all he sees. He is beginning to know India, because he has made it his purpose to know India. If he stays, he could become very troubling for the Portuguese.”
”And will that bring no good to affairs here?” Nadir Sharif paused.
”Will it?”
”I do not follow matters of state, Sharif Sahib.”
Nadir Sharif let the silence swell, then in a voice brittle as ice he spoke.
”Why did the prince meet with him?”
Vasant Rao tried without success to mask his surprise. Lord Krishna, they know everything in Agra.
”There was a meeting.” Vasant Rao hesitated, then decided to maintain discretion. ”But neither spoke of it afterwards.”
Nadir Sharif studied him, pondering if it were true. Then he turned to glance at the _darshan_ balcony as he spoke.
”The Moghul has demanded that the English _feringhi_ be brought to _durbar_ immediately after he arrives.”
”Does that mean today?” Vasant Rao s.h.i.+fted with surprise.
”His Majesty will hear soon enough he has arrived. There
is no choice.”
”Then the _feringhi_ must be told to prepare, Sharif Sahib. He has a chest containing gifts, and the letter.”
”I know what he has. Tell him he must bring the gifts to _durbar_. For his sake I hope they're not trifles. His Majesty is most anxious to see them.”
And the queen is even more anxious to see the letter, Nadir Sharif told himself. Then he smiled as he realized he would see it first.
It will be an interesting afternoon.
A fanfare of drums sounded faintly from the ramparts of the Red Fort, and for a moment the morning sun seemed to glow even brighter against the gleaming panels of the Jasmine Tower. Nadir Sharif turned toward the _darshan_ balcony. From the shadow of its embroidered satin awning a figure had suddenly emerged. It was just possible to make out the man's glistening robe and his elaborate, patterned turban. Then the heavy jewels of his earrings momentarily caught the morning suns.h.i.+ne and sent streams of light flas.h.i.+ng outward. All the waiting crowd bowed low, each man touching the back of his right hand to the ground and then bringing the palm to his forehead as he drew erect. It was the formal _teslim_ given the Moghul, signifying each man's readiness to give himself as an offering.
Nadir Sharif scrutinized the scene carefully and drew an almost audible sigh of relief. Then he turned to Vasant Rao.
”Have you ever seen the Moghul at morning _darshan_? He continued on distractedly, neglecting to pause for an answer. ”You know, it's actually a custom began by Akman, who wors.h.i.+ped the sun as one of the G.o.ds. But Arangbar appears in order to maintain his own authority. If he missed _darshan_ for a day, rumors would begin he was dead. Three days and there would be anarchy.”