East India Company -- Fiction; Historical fiction; India -- History -- 1526-1765 -- Fiction
"He has ordered the women whipped for disobeying his order to accompany
Shirin at all times, even when she walks in the garden."
Then the door opened again, and Mukarrab Khan strode into the morning
sunshine.
"Captain Hawksworth, _salaam_. I trust Allah gave you rest."
"I slept so well I find difficulty remembering all we said last night."
Hawksworth watched him carefully. Will he honor his threat to deliver
us to the Viceroy, for a trial at Goa?
"It was an amusing evening. Hardly a time for weighty diplomatic
exchange. And did you enjoy my little present?"
Hawksworth pondered his question for a moment, and the drugged dream of
the night before suddenly became real.
"You mean the woman? She was very . . . unusual, very different from
the women of England."
"Yes, I daresay. She was one of my final gifts from . . . Agra. I often
have her entertain my guests. If you like, you may keep her while you
stay with me. I already hear she fancies you. The serving women call
her Kali, after a goddess from their infidel pantheon. I think that
one's their deity of destruction."
"Why did they give her that name?"
"Perhaps she'll tell you herself sometime." Mukarrab Khan gestured for
a servant to bring his cloak. "I hope you'll forgive me, but I regret I
must abandon you for a time. Among my least pleasant duties is a
monthly journey to Cambay, our northern port in this province. It
always requires almost a week, but I have no choice. Their Shahbandar
would rob the Moghul's treasury itself if he were not watched. But I
think you'll enjoy yourself in my absence."
"I would enjoy it more if I could be with my men."
"And forgo the endless intrigues my Kali undoubtedly plans for you?" He
monitored Hawksworth's unsettled expression. "Or perhaps it's a boy
you'd prefer. Very well, if you wish you may even have . . ."
"I'm more interested in the safety of our merchants and seamen. And our
cargo. I haven't seen the men since yesterday, at the customs house."
"They're all quite well. I've lodged them with a port official who
speaks Portuguese, which your Chief Merchant also seems to understand.
I'm told, by the way, he's a thoroughly unpleasant specimen."
"When can I see them?"
"Why any time you choose. You have only to speak to one of the eunuchs.
But why trouble yourself today? Spend it here and rest. Perhaps enjoy
the grounds and the garden. Tomorrow is time enough to re-enter the
wearisome halls of commerce."
Hawksworth decided that the time had come to raise the critical
question. "And what about the Portugals? And their false charges?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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