The Moghul

one on either side of the parted curtains.
    Hawksworth felt his pulse surge as the next figure entered through the curtains.
    He was of middle height, with a small moustache and glistening diamond earrings. He wore a tight patterned turban, a blue robe secured by a gold brocade sash, jeweled rings on both hands, and a massive string of pearls. A golden-handled sword and dagger were at his waist, and two feline cubs frisked by his side. Hawksworth studied them in confusion, and after a moment realized they must be baby lions, an animal famous in English folklore but never actually seen firsthand by anyone in England.
    At that instant a din of kettledrums erupted from galleries at the sides of the square. Almost as one those waiting called out a salaam, bent forward, and touched the back of their right hand to the ground and then to their forehead as they drew erect. The durbar of the Moghul had begun.
    "You did not perform the teslim ." Vasant Rao turned to Hawksworth with dismay in his voice. "He may have taken note of it. That was unwise, my friend."
    "An ambassador for a king doesn't prostrate himself."
    "You're new to India. That may be taken as an excuse. The other ambassadors here know better."
    As they watched, three other men slowly emerged from behind the throne and took their places on the marble platform, standing beside the Moghul. They all wore jeweled turbans and each had a sash of gold cloth about the waist. Hawksworth turned to Vasant Rao in time to see a look of hatred flash through his eyes.
    "Who are they?"
    "The two younger men are his sons. I saw them once before in Agra. It's traditional that his sons join him at the durbar when they are here. The younger one is Allaudin. He will be married next month to Queen Janahara's daughter. The other one is his drunken brother Parwaz. The older man is Zainul Beg, the Moghurs wazir , his chief counsel. He's the father of Nadir Sharif, the prime minister, and he's also the father of Queen Janahara."
    Hawksworth watched as yet another man emerged through the curtain, walked casually past the throne, and was helped onto the marble platform directly in front. He turned to the silver rail, where a dozen petitions were immediately thrust up to him.
    Vasant Rao nudged Hawksworth and pointed. "And that's Nadir Sharif, the prime minister. Remember him well. No one reaches the Moghul without his consent."
    The prime minister paused to study the faces below, and then reached out for a petition. He unrolled it, scanned it quickly, and turned to Arangbar, passing it upward with a comment only those by the throne could hear. The business of the day was underway.
    Arangbar listened with obvious boredom as one petition after another was set before him. He held counsel with his sons and with the wazir , and frequently he would turn to the marble screen off the right side of the throne and discuss a petition with someone waiting behind it.

Below the platform several ambassadors shuffled, trying to mask their impatience. Hawksworth suddenly realized that the jewel-encrusted boxes they held, many of beaten gold, contained presents for the Moghul. He looked at his own leatherbound wooden chest, shabby by comparison, and his heart began to sink.
    After a short while, the Moghul seemed to lose patience with the petitions and, ignoring the waiting nobles, abruptly signaled for a review of the day's elephant troops. Moments later, a line of war elephants entered through the public gate and began to march single-file across the back of the square. Their tusks were wreathed with gold bands and they wore coverings of embroidered cloth which were strung with tinkling bells and tassels of Tibetan yak hair. As each reached a spot directly in front of the Diwan-i-Am it stopped, kneeled, and trumpeted to Arangbar.
    When the last elephant had passed, drums were sounded again and a group of eight men came into the square leading a snarling beast by heavy chains attached to its iron collar. It was tawny, with a heavy mane and powerful paws, and it roared out its displeasure as it writhed and clawed at the chains.
    Hawksworth took one look and realized it was a fully-grown male lion.
    "That seems to be His Majesty's new toy." Vasant Rao pointed nervously. "He collects lions as pets. That one must have just been captured."
    Arangbar studied the lion with obvious delight. Then he bent down and stroked one of the cubs by his side, lifting it to better view the new prize. The assembly watched