Nadir Sharif watched as his pigeons were swallowed by the morning haze and then settled himself onto a canopied couch to observe _darshan_. The eunuchs of the _zenana_ had whispered that this morning would be different, that there would be a precedent-shattering occurrence. For once a _zenana_ rumor seemed all too plausible, and late the previous evening he had sent a dispatch through a _qazi_, a high judge, pleading illness and excusing himself from _darshan_. And now he had stationed himself to watch. How would the court officials react? Had they too heard the rumors? And what of those who had gathered below to salute Arangbar with the traditional _teslim_. Most importantly, what of Nadir Sharif? This day could well be a turning point in the course of India's history . . . and in the three decades of his preeminence at court. If the rumors were true. Nadir Sharif was easily the most accomplished courtier in India, a skill that had earned him the most splendid palace in Agra after the Moghul himself. His position brought with it not merely a palace, but also the _mansab_ rank and _jagir_ wealth required to maintain it. Only enormous wealth could sustain the hungry host of slaves, eunuchs, concubines, musicians, dancers, and wives who thronged his Agra palace. Success for Nadir Sharif had always seemed so effortless, so inevitable, he often marveled that so few others had ever grasped the elementary secret. His simple formula for longevity, in a court where favorites daily rose and fell, was first to establish with certainty which side of a difference would inevitably triumph, and then to unveil his own supporting views. He had made a lifelong habit of seeing everything. And saying almost nothing. He understood well that thoughts unsaid often served better than those voiced too hastly. Whereas the way of others might be flawed by a penchant for the _zenana_, or jewels, or those intoxicants the Prophet ha so futilely prohibited, Nadir Sharifs sole worldly obsession was power--from which nothing, absolutely nothing, had ever turned his head. For a decade he had ruled the Moghul empire in all but name, forwarding to Arangbar only those petitions he favored, holding in advisement any he opposed, counseling the Moghul at every turn--but always through other, unsuspecting voices if the advice was anything save disguised flattery. His meticulous attention to affairs at court did not exclude foreign trade. For years his voice had been raised against any who counseled Arangbar in directions adverse to Portuguese interests. This attention did not pass unnoticed in Goa, and when a kingly jewel was sent to Arangbar, another of only slightly inferior dimensions always found its way into the hands of Nadir Sharif.