The Moghul Part 66

Arangbar looked up in confusion, his eyes half closed from the opium.

Then he saw the painters and remembered.

"Bring them in." Suddenly his alertness seemed to return. "I want to see five Inglish kings."

The paintings were brought to the foot of Arangbar's dais, and he inspected them drunkenly, but with obvious satisfaction.

"Amba.s.sador Inglish. Have a look." Arangbar called toward the hushed shadows of the seated guests. A path immediately cleared among the bolsters, as hookahs were pushed aside, winegla.s.ses seized.

Hawksworth walked unsteadily forward, his mind still stunned by the imminent death sentence waiting for the woman. As he pa.s.sed her, he sensed her powerful presence and inhaled her musky perfume. There was no hint of fear in her eyes as she stood waiting, statuesque and defiant.

By the time he reached the throne, eunuchs were waiting with candles, one on each side of the board, bathing it in flickering light. On it was a line of five English miniatures of King James, each approximately an inch square.

Good Jesus, they're identical. Am I so drunk I can't tell a painting of King James?

He looked up shakily at Arangbar, whose smile was a gloat.

"Well, Amba.s.sador Inglish. What say you? Are the painters of my school equal to any your king has?"

"One moment, Majesty. Until my eyes adjust." Hawksworth grasped one edge of the board to steady himself. Behind him there were murmurs of delight and he caught the word "_feringhi_."

As he walked along the board, studying each painting in turn, he suddenly noticed that the reflection of the candlelight was different for one.

The paint is still wet on the new portraits. That's the difference. Or is it? Are my eyes playing tricks? d.a.m.n me for letting Nadir Sharif fill my winegla.s.s every chance he had.

"Come, Amba.s.sador Inglish. We do not have all night." Arangbar's voice was br.i.m.m.i.n.g with triumph.

Hawksworth studied the paintings more closely. Yes, there's a slight difference. The colors on the one painting are slightly different.

Duller.

They didn't use varnish. And there are fewer shadows. Theirs are more two-dimensional.

"I'm astounded, Your Majesty. But I believe this is the one by Isaac Oliver." Hawksworth pointed to the painting second from the right end.

"Let me see them again." Arangbar's voice was a husky slur. "I will tell if you have guessed correctly."

The board was handed up. Arangbar glanced at the paintings for only an instant. "You have guessed right, Amba.s.sador Inglish. And I realize how you did it. The light from the candles."

"The portraits are identical, Your Majesty. I confess it."

"So we have won our point. And you won the wager, Inglish. Still, you won only because of my haste. Tomorrow you would not have known. Do you admit it?"

"I do, Your Majesty." Hawksworth bowed slightly.

"So, you did not really win the wager after all. We lost it. But I am a man of honor. We will release Nadir Sharif from his pledge. I am the one who must pay. What would you have? Perhaps a diamond?"

"The wager was only for a horse, Your Majesty." Hawksworth was stunned.

"No. That was the wager of Nadir Sharif. You have won a wager from a king. Yours must be the payment of a king. If not a jewel, then what would you have?"

Before Hawksworth could reply, Nadir Sharif stepped forward and bent toward Arangbar.

"If I may be allowed to suggest, Your Majesty, the _feringhi _needs a woman. Give him this dancer. Let him amuse himself with her until you can find a suitable wife for him."

Arangbar looked toward Hawksworth with glazed eyes. It was obvious he had already forgotten about Kamala.

"The Kathak dancer who was here? She was excellent. Yes, that would be perfect."

"Your Majesty of course means the woman standing here now." Nadir Sharif directed Arangbar's groggy gaze toward Kamala, who stood mutely, eyes flashing.

"There she is. Of course. What do you say to her, Inglish?"

Hawksworth was astounded by Nadir Sharifs quickness of wit. He's saved the woman. He's a genius. Of course I'll take her. Good Jesus, there's been enough bloodshed today.

"The woman would be the gift of a great prince, Your Majesty."

"So there's manhood about you after all, Inglish. I had begun to think you were like your king." Arangbar laughed in delight. "So it's a woman you would have, Amba.s.sador? Merciful Allah, I have too many now.

Perhaps you would like two. I recall there's an Armenian Christian somewhere in the _zenana_. Perhaps several. They're said to be as l.u.s.ty as the Portuguese harlots in Goa." He choked for a moment on laughter.

"Let me summon the eunuchs."

"This one will do for now, Your Majesty." Think how to phrase this.

"Merely to serve me."

"Yes, she will 'serve' you, Amba.s.sador. Or we will have her head. If she would amuse you, she's yours."

Kamala's look met Hawksworth's. It was strangely without emotion.

Then Arangbar suddenly remembered Kamala's defiance and turned to study her again with half-closed eyes.

"But not this one. It must be the other one you want. This one will be hanged tonight, in a room far beneath the _zenana_. After she has answered for her words. Tomorrow her carca.s.s will pollute the Jamuna. A man in her place would already be dead."

"May it please Your Majesty, it would satisfy me even more to have this one." Hawksworth paused. "Perhaps it's what the English call honor. We both know I did not win our wager fairly. Only by taking something of no value, like this woman, could I maintain my honor, and my king's."

"You are persuasive, Inglish, and I am drunk. But not too drunk to suspect you've taken a fancy to this infidel. But if you prefer her to the other, then so be it. We offered you whatever you wished. She's yours. But never let her be seen on the streets of Agra again. We will have her cut down."

"As please Your Majesty."

"It's done." Arangbar turned to Nadir Sharif. "Is it true you've found a house for the Inglish?"

"I have, Your Majesty."

"Then send her there." He turned to Hawksworth. "Allah protect you from these infidel Hindus, Inglish. They have none of your Inglish honor."

"I humbly thank Your Majesty." Jesus Christ, I've just been imprisoned in a house staffed by Nadir Sharifs hand-picked spies.

"Enough. We've been told to retire early tonight. Her Majesty thinks we drink to excess." He laughed a slurred chortle. "But we will see you tomorrow, Inglish. To talk more. We have much to discuss. We want to hear what gifts your king is preparing for us. We would very much like a large mastiff from Europe. We hear they hunt game like a _chitah._"

Arangbar drew himself up shakily and two eunuchs immediately were at his side, helping him from the white marble throne. None of the guests moved until he had pa.s.sed through the curtains. Immediately the eunuchs began moving about the room, extinguishing the lamps. By the time the guests a.s.sembled to leave, the room was virtually dark. Kamala and the musicians had been escorted from the room by Arangbar's guards.

Suddenly Hawksworth felt Nadir Sharifs hand on his arm.