The Moghul Part 19

"I would be content to rinse my hands."

Mukarrab Khan examined him for a moment and then broke into a wide smile. "I always forget _feringhi _are positively afraid of water." He spoke quickly to one of the eunuchs, who turned and barked orders to the servants in a language Hawksworth did not understand.

"The servants will provide whatever you require." Mukarrab Khan bowed perfunctorily to Hawksworth and disappeared through one of the arched doorways leading off the courtyard, followed by the eunuchs. Then Hawksworth turned to see a dark-skinned man bearing a large silver basin down the veranda. Behind him a second man carried a red velvet cus.h.i.+on, shaped like a long cylinder, and placed it on a stool next to the canopied pavilion, gesturing for Hawksworth to sit.

As Hawksworth seated himself and turned toward the basin the servant held waiting, he caught the fresh aroma of a full bouquet, as though the fragrances of some tropic Eden had been distilled into the water.

He looked down to see flower petals floating on its s.h.i.+mmering, oil- covered surface. How curious, he thought. English countrywomen sometimes distill toilet water from the flowers in their gardens, but never in such quant.i.ties'that it can be used merely to wash hands. And while English toilet waters are cloying and sweet, violets and gilliflowers, this aroma is light and delicate.

War elephants and perfumed waters, in the same palace. It's incredible.

He gingerly splashed his hands, and looked up to find a steaming towel being proffered. He sponged away the remaining mud of the playing field and watched as one by one the servants began to melt into the darkened recesses of the marble galleries. The last was an old withered gamekeeper, who wandered through the garden berating a sullen peac.o.c.k toward its roost. And then the courtyard fell austerely quiet.

Illuminated now only by lanterns and pale moonlight, it became a fairyland almost outside of time. He smiled as he thought of where he had been only the previous night--fending off an attack by Portuguese infantry. And now, this.

His thoughts began to drift randomly, to float in and among the marble latticework of the veranda. And he thought once more of Roger Symmes and his bizarre stories of India.

He was right. It's a heaven on earth. But with an undertow of violence just beneath the serene, polished surface. All this beauty, and yet it's guarded with war elephants and a moat. It's a world that's . . .

artificial. It's carved of marble and jewels, and then locked away. Now I'm beginning to understand why he found it so enticing. And frightening. G.o.d, for a brandy. Now.

"Khan Sahib awaits you." Hawksworth looked up to see the eunuch standing directly in front of him, freshly attired in a long robe of patterned silk. As he rose, startled from his reveries, a pudgy hand shot out and seized his arm.

"Your sword is not permitted in the banquet room."

Hawksworth froze. Then he remembered the knife strapped inside the top of his boot and the thought gave him comfort.

He unbuckled his sword slowly, deliberately, pausing to meet the eunuch's defiant stare as he pa.s.sed it over.

The eunuch seemed to ignore Hawksworth's look as he continued.

"You will also remove your boots. It is against custom to wear them in the banquet room."

Hawksworth moved to protest, then sadly concluded there would be no point. Of course the room would be filled with carpets. And that must be the reason everyone I've seen here wears open shoes with the backs folded down: they're constantly being removed at doorways.

He bent over and unbuckled his boots. The eunuch stiffened momentarily when he saw the glint of the knife handle in the lamplight, but he said nothing, merely swept up the boots with his other hand.

As they walked slowly down the marble hallway toward the bronzed door of the banquet room, Hawksworth tried to rehea.r.s.e what he would say to Mukarrab Khan.

He has to pet.i.tion the court in Agra to grant safe conduct for the trip. He just has to send one letter. How can he possibly refuse?

Remember, you're an amba.s.sador. . . .

The eunuch shoved wide the bronzed door, and Hawksworth was astonished by what he saw.

The governor of Surat lounged against a purple velvet bolster at the far end of a long room whose walls were a cool expanse of flawless white and whose marble floor was softened with an enormous carpet in the thick Persian style. His skin glistened with light oil, and he had donned a fresh turban, patterned in brown and white, tied in intricate swirls, and bound with a strand of dark jewels. A single large pearl hung over his forehead, and two ta.s.sels, each also suspending a pearl, brushed his shoulders. He wore a tight-fitting patterned s.h.i.+rt in pale brown, and over this a heavy green vest lined in white satin and embroidered in gold. It was bound with a woven cinch decorated with brocade. Around his neck were two strings of pearls, the shorter suspending a large ruby from its center. He had put on heavy bracelets, and intricate rings circled the first and fourth fingers of both hands.

Hawksworth also noticed for the first time that he wore earrings, each a tiny green emerald.

The eunuchs stood behind him, and around the sides of the room servants and slaves stood waiting. Along a back wall two men sat silently poised, one behind a pair of small drums and the other holding an ornate stringed instrument, its polished body glistening in the light.

The only women in the room mingled among the servers.

"Captain Hawksworth, our fare tonight will be simple and unworthy, but please honor my table by your indulgence." Mukarrab Khan smiled warmly and motioned Hawksworth to enter. "At least we can talk freely."

"Is this an official meeting?" Hawksworth did not move, but stood as officiously as he could muster.

"If you wish. Our meeting can be considered formal, even if we are not."

"Then as amba.s.sador of His Majesty, King James of England, I must insist that you rise to receive me." Hawksworth tried to suppress the feeling that he looked vaguely foolish as a barefoot amba.s.sador. But no one else in the room wore shoes either. "A governor is still his king's subject. I represent my king's person."

"I was not informed you were an amba.s.sador." Mukarrab Khan's face sobered noticeably, but he did not move. "You are Captain-General of two merchant vessels."

"I'm here in the name of the king of England, with authority to speak for him in all matters regarding trade." Hawksworth recalled the effect this had had on the Shahbandar. "I'm entrusted with his personal letter to the Moghul."

Mukarrab Khan examined Hawksworth for a long moment, seeming to collect and a.s.semble a number of thoughts.

"Your request would be proper for an amba.s.sador. Let us say I comply in the interest of mutual good will." He rose and bowed formally, if only sightly, more a nod. "The governor of Surat welcomes you, a representative of the English king."

"And I convey my king's acknowledgement of your welcome." Hawksworth entered and seated himself facing Mukarrab Khan, against a large velvet bolster already positioned for him.

"And what is this letter your English king sends to His Majesty?"

Mukarrab Khan reclined back on his own bolster and arched his fingertips together.

"That is a concern between King James and the Moghul." Hawksworth caught the quickly suppressed flash of anger in Mukarrab Khan's eyes.

"I only ask that you pet.i.tion the court in Agra for permission to travel there. It would also be helpful if you would order the Shahbandar to allow our merchants to trade their goods at the port of Surat."

"Yes, I understand you had the pleasure of meeting our Shahbandar. I regret deeply having to tell you I have virtually no influence over that notorious man. He was appointed by the Moghul's son, Prince Jadar, who is in charge of administering this province. He acts very much as he pleases."

Lie number one, Hawksworth thought: you forced him to order my transfer here.

"Surely you're aware," Mukarrab Khan continued evenly, "that no other Europeans besides the Portuguese have ever before landed cargo on the sh.o.r.es of India. Arabs, Persians, even Turks are a common sight, but no other Europeans. Not even your Dutch, who, I'm told, consort with some of our southeastern neighbors. In fact, the Moghul's trade agreement with the Portuguese is intended to exclude all other Europeans."

Mukarrab Khan stirred on his bolster and signaled one of the eunuchs to prepare the carpet for dining. "Although frankly he has little choice, since they control the seas. In fact, it might be said that they allow our merchants to trade. Indian cargo vessels must all acquire a license from Portuguese officials in Goa before leaving port."

"The Portugals control India's trade because you've allowed them to.

Your territorial waters belong to India, or should."

Mukarrab Khan seemed to ignore Hawksworth as he watched the servants spread a large covering of tooled leather across the carpet in front of them. After a moment his concentration reappeared, and he turned abruptly.

"Amba.s.sador Hawksworth, we do not need to be advised by you how India should manage her own affairs. But perhaps I will advise you that His Excellency, the Portuguese Viceroy, has already sent notice by messenger that he intends to lodge charges of piracy against your two s.h.i.+ps. He has requested that they be confiscated and that you, your merchants, and your crews be transferred to Goa for trial."

Hawksworth's heart stopped and he examined Mukarrab Khan in dismay. So the _chaugan _match had merely been an excuse to take him into confinement. After a moment he stiffened and drew himself erect. "And I say the Portugals were the ones acting as pirates. Their attack on our English merchantmen was in violation of the treaty of peace that now exists between England and Spain, and by extension to the craven Portugals, who are now nothing more than a va.s.sal of the Spanish king."

"Yes, I've heard rumors of this treaty. We in India are not entirely ignorant of Europe. But His Excellency denies there's any such treaty extending to our sh.o.r.es. As I recall he characterized England as an island of stinking fishermen, who should remain content to fish their own sea."

"The treaty between England and Spain exists." Hawksworth decided to ignore the insult. "We have exchanged amba.s.sadors and it is honored by both our kings. It ended almost two decades of war."

"I will grant you such a treaty may indeed exist. Whether it applies here I do not know. Nor, frankly, do I particularly care. What I do know, English amba.s.sador, is that you are very far from the law courts of Europe. The Portuguese still control the seas off India, as they have done for a hundred years. And unenforceable treaties have little bearing on the rule of might."

"We showed you the 'might' of the Portugals yesterday."

Mukarrab Khan laughed heartily, and when he glanced toward his eunuchs, they returned obsequious grins. "You are truly more naive than I ever imagined, English Captain Hawksworth. What effect can one small engagement have on the fleet of wars.h.i.+ps at Goa? If you want protection at sea, you will have to provide it yourself. Is that what your king hopes to gain from the Moghul, or from me?"

"I told you I have only two requests. One is your message to Agra requesting permission for my journey. The other is your approval to trade the cargo we've brought."