East India Company -- Fiction; Historical fiction; India -- History -- 1526-1765 -- Fiction
"I do, Your Majesty." Hawksworth bowed slightly.
"So, you did not really win the wager after all. We lost it. But I am a
man of honor. We will release Nadir Sharif from his pledge. I am the
one who must pay. What would you have? Perhaps a diamond?"
"The wager was only for a horse, Your Majesty." Hawksworth was stunned.
"No. That was the wager of Nadir Sharif. You have won a wager from a
king. Yours must be the payment of a king. If not a jewel, then what
would you have?"
Before Hawksworth could reply, Nadir Sharif stepped forward and bent
toward Arangbar.
"If I may be allowed to suggest, Your Majesty, the _feringhi _needs a
woman. Give him this dancer. Let him amuse himself with her until you
can find a suitable wife for him."
Arangbar looked toward Hawksworth with glazed eyes. It was obvious he
had already forgotten about Kamala.
"The Kathak dancer who was here? She was excellent. Yes, that would be
perfect."
"Your Majesty of course means the woman standing here now." Nadir
Sharif directed Arangbar's groggy gaze toward Kamala, who stood mutely,
eyes flashing.
"There she is. Of course. What do you say to her, Inglish?"
Hawksworth was astounded by Nadir Sharifs quickness of wit. He's saved
the woman. He's a genius. Of course I'll take her. Good Jesus, there's
been enough bloodshed today.
"The woman would be the gift of a great prince, Your Majesty."
"So there's manhood about you after all, Inglish. I had begun to think
you were like your king." Arangbar laughed in delight. "So it's a woman
you would have, Ambassador? Merciful Allah, I have too many now.
Perhaps you would like two. I recall there's an Armenian Christian
somewhere in the _zenana_. Perhaps several. They're said to be as lusty
as the Portuguese harlots in Goa." He choked for a moment on laughter.
"Let me summon the eunuchs."
"This one will do for now, Your Majesty." Think how to phrase this.
"Merely to serve me."
"Yes, she will 'serve' you, Ambassador. Or we will have her head. If
she would amuse you, she's yours."
Kamala's look met Hawksworth's. It was strangely without emotion.
Then Arangbar suddenly remembered Kamala's defiance and turned to study
her again with half-closed eyes.
"But not this one. It must be the other one you want. This one will be
hanged tonight, in a room far beneath the _zenana_. After she has
answered for her words. Tomorrow her carcass will pollute the Jamuna. A
man in her place would already be dead."
"May it please Your Majesty, it would satisfy me even more to have this
one." Hawksworth paused. "Perhaps it's what the English call honor. We
both know I did not win our wager fairly. Only by taking something of
no value, like this woman, could I maintain my honor, and my king's."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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