The Moghul Part 43

"That is my gift to the queen. You may send it with a message in your next dispatch. Tell her that I too am Persian, that I too know the name of my father's father, of his father's father, of his father's father, for ten generations. But unlike her, I was born in India. And it is in India that I will stay. She can banish me to the remotest village of the Punjab, but she will never send me to Goa. To live among unwashed Portuguese. Never. She does not have the power. And if you were a man, you would divorce me. Here. Tonight. For all to see. And I will return to my father, or go where I wish. Or you may kill me, as you have already tried to do. But you must decide."

Mukarrab Khan's face was lost in shock. The courtyard stood lifeless, caught in a silence more powerful than any Hawksworth had ever known.

He looked in confusion at Father Sarmento, and the old Jesuit quietly whispered a translation of the Persian, his own eyes wide in disbelief.

Never before had he seen a Muslim woman defy her husband publicly. The humiliation was unthinkable. Mukarrab Khan had no power to order her death. He had no choice but to divorce her as she demanded. But everyone knew why she was his wife. What would a divorce mean?

"You will proceed to Goa as my wife, or you will spend the rest of your days, and what little remains of your fading beauty, as a _nautch_ girl at the port. Your price will be one copper _pice_. I will order it in the morning."

"His Majesty will know of it within a week. I have friends enough in Agra."

"As do I. And mine have the power to act."

"Then divorce me."

Mukarrab Khan paused painfully, then glanced down and absently whisked a fleck of lint from his brocade sleeve. "Which form do you wish?"

An audible gasp pa.s.sed through the servants, and not one breathed as they waited for the answer. There were three forms of divorce for Muslims. The first, called a revocable divorce, was performed when a man said "I have divorced you" only once. He had three months to reconsider and reconcile before it became final. The second form, called irrevocable, required the phrase be repeated twice, after which she could only become his wife again through a second marriage ceremony. The third, absolute, required three repet.i.tions of the phrase and became effective the day her next reproductive cycle ended. There could be no remarriage unless she had, in the interim, been married to another.

"Absolute."

"Do you 'insist'?"

"I do."

"Then by law you must return the entire marriage settlement."

"You took it from me and squandered it long ago on _affion_ and pretty boys. What is left to return?"

"Then it is done."

Hawksworth watched in disbelief as Mukarrab Khan repeated three times the Arabic phrase from the Quran that cast her out. The two Jesuits also stood silently, their faces horrified.

s.h.i.+rin listened impa.s.sively as his voice echoed across the stunned courtyard. Then without a word she ripped the strands of pearls from her neck and threw them at his feet. Before Mukarrab Khan could speak again, she had turned and disappeared through the doorway of the palace.

"In the eyes of G.o.d, Excellency, you will always be man and wife,"

Father Sarmento broke the silence. "What He has joined, man cannot rend."

A look of great weariness seemed to flood Mukarrab Khan's face as he groped to find the facade of calm that protected him. Then, with an almost visible act of will, it came again.

"Perhaps you understand now, Father, why the Prophet's laws grant us more than one wife. Allah allows for certain . . . mistakes." He forced a smile, then whirled on a wide-eyed eunuch. "Will the packing be finished by morning?"

"As ordered, Khan Sahib." The eunuch snapped to formality.

"Then see dinner is served my guests, or put my kitchen _wallahs_ to the lash." He turned back to Hawksworth. "I'm told you met her once, Amba.s.sador. I trust she was more pleasant then."

"Merely by accident, Excellency. While I was at the . . . in the garden."

"She does very little by accident. You should mark her well."

"Your counsel is always welcome, Excellency." Hawksworth felt his pulse surge. "What will she do now?"

"I think she will have all her wishes granted." He turned wearily toward the marble columns of the veranda. "You will forgive me if I must leave you now for a while. You understand I have further dispatches to prepare."

He turned and was gone. After a moment's pause, the despairing Jesuits trailed after.

And suddenly the courtyard seemed empty.

The waves curled gently against the sh.o.r.e, breaking iridescent over the staves of a half-buried keg. Before him the sea spread wide and empty.

Only a single sail broke the horizon. His mare pawed impatiently, but Hawksworth could not bring himself to turn her back toward the road.

Not yet. Only when the sail's white had blended with the sea did he rein her around and, with one last glance at the empty blue, give her the spur.

He rode briskly past the nodding palms along the sh.o.r.e, then turned inland toward Surat, through villages of thatch- roofed houses on low stilts. Women watched from the wide porches, sewing, nursing infants.

After a time he no longer saw them, no longer urged the mare. His thoughts were filled with images from the tumultuous evening past.

He had paced the vacant rooms of the palace till the early hours of morning, his mind in turmoil. Sleep was never a possibility. When the courtyard at last grew still, he had slipped back into the garden, wanting its openness, the feel of its order. In the moonlight it lay deserted, and as he strolled alongside the bubbling fountain, he felt himself even more lost in this alien place, this alien land. The pilot Karim had been right. India had already unsettled him more than he thought he could bear.

In time he found himself wandering once more through the orchard, amid the wistful calls of night birds. The trees formed a roof of leafy shadows, cold and joyless as the moon above. Even then, all he could see was s.h.i.+rin, poised defiant in the stark torchlight, taunting the queen. She had offered herself up to almost certain death, for reasons he scarcely comprehended.

Before he fully realized where he was, he looked up and saw the observatory. A tiny blinking owl perched atop the staircase, studying him critically as he approached. Around him the marble instruments glistened like silver, while ahead stood the stone hut, forlorn now, more ramshackle than he had ever remembered, more abandoned. He reflected sadly that it probably would soon be forgotten entirely. Who would ever come here again?

The door of the hut was sealed tightly and for a time he stood simply looking at it, trying to recall all that had pa.s.sed inside. Finally he reached with a determined hand and pulled it wide.

s.h.i.+rin stared up from the table in shock, grabbing the lamp as though to extinguish it. Then she recognized him in the flickering light.

"Why . . . why are you here?"

Before he could answer, she moved in front of the table, masking it from his view. "You should not have come. If you're seen . . ."

As his own surprise pa.s.sed, he felt himself suddenly wanting to take her in his arms. "What does it matter now? You're divorced." The words filled him with momentary exhilaration, till he remembered the rest.

"You're also in danger, whether I'm seen or not."

"That's my concern."

"What are you planning to do?"

"Leave. But I still have friends."

He reached out and took the lamp from her, to feel the touch of her hand. It was soft and warm. "Will I ever see you again?"

"Who knows what will happen now?" The wildness in her eyes was beginning to gentle. She moved back from the table and dropped into a chair. He realized it was the same chair she had sat in when telling him about the queen. On the table before her were piles of papers, tied into small, neat bundles. She examined him for a few moments in silence, then reached to brush the hair back from her eyes. "Did you come here just to see me?"

"Not really . . ." He stopped, then laughed. "I think maybe I did. I think I somehow knew you would be here, without realizing I knew. I've been thinking about you all night."

"Why?" Her voice quickened just enough for him to notice.

"I'm not sure. I do know I'm very worried about what may happen to you."