How can she be so imprudent as to ignore him? Aren't Hindus afraid of him? What was her name? Kamala? His eyes shot back to the woman. Kamala. Can she be the woman Kali spoke of that last night in Surat? The Lotus Woman? Nadir Sharif said she was famous. "Just who are you?" Arangbar's voice cut through the carpeted room, toward the woman's back. He was speaking Turki, and he was outraged. Kamala whirled on him. "One who dances for Shiva, in his aspect as Nataraj, the god of the dance. For him and for him alone." "What do you call this dance for your infidel god?" "Bharata Natyam. The dance of the temple. The sacred tradition as old as India itself. The god Shiva set the world in motion by the rhythms of his dance. My dance is a prayer to Shiva." Kamala's eyes snapped with hatred. "I dance for no one else." "You were summoned here to dance for me." Arangbar pulled himself drunkenly erect. Around the room the nobles began to shift uneasily, their bleary eyes filling with alarm. "Then I will not dance. You have the world in your hands. But you cannot possess the dance of Shiva. Our dance is prescribed in the Natya Shastra of the ancient sage Bharata. Over a thousand years ago he declared that dance is not merely for pleasure; dance is the blending of all art, religion, philosophy. It gives mankind wisdom, discipline, endurance. Through dance we are allowed to know the totality of all that is. My dance is not for your sport." Arangbar's anger increased, but now it was leavened with puzzlement. "If you will not dance your Shiva dance, then dance Kathak." "The dance Muslims call Kathak is the perversion of yet another of our sacred traditions. Perhaps there are some Hindu dancers who will, for Muslim gold, debase the ancient Kathak dance of India, will make it a display of empty technique for the amusement of India's oppressors. Muslims and"--she turned and glared at Hawksworth--"now _feringhi_. But I will not do it. The Kathak you want to see is no longer true Kathak. It has been made empty, without meaning. I will never debase our true Kathak dance for you, as others have done, any more than I will dedicate a performance of Bharata Natyam to a mortal man." The guards near the entrance of the _Diwan-i-Khas _had all tensed, their hands dropping uneasily to their swords. "I have heard enough. A man who dared speak to me as you have would be sent to the elephants. You, I think, deserve more. Since you speak to your god through dance, you do not need a tongue." Arangbar turned to summon the waiting guards when, at the rear of the _Diwan-i-Khas_, the figure of the Chief Painter emerged, his assistants trailing behind. They carried a long, thin board. Nadir Sharif spotted them and immediately leaped to his feet, almost as though he had been expecting their entrance.