The Moghul

spellbound for a moment, then burst into cheers.
    As Hawksworth watched, Arangbar set down the lion cub and spoke with his wazir . Zainul Beg stared into the crowd and then pointed. Moments later the black cassock of a Jesuit appeared at the railing. With a start Hawksworth recognized Father Alvarez Sarmento, last seen in the courtyard of Mukarrab Khan's palace in Surat. The Jesuit listened to the wazir's instructions and then turned to the crowd. His announcement was in English.
    "His Majesty orders the ambassador from England to come forward."
    Vasant Rao touched Hawksworth's arm and reached out to clasp his hand.
    "This is your moment, my friend. By the time durbar is through I will be far from here."
    "Why are you leaving?" Hawksworth turned and looked into his eyes, suddenly realizing that Vasant Rao was the closest thing he had to a friend in India.
    "It's impossible for me to stay longer." Vasant Rao paused, and Hawksworth sensed his warmth was genuine. Suddenly the Rajput reached into the sash at his belt and drew out his sheathed katar . "You saved my life once, in the village, and I've never found the words to thank you. Perhaps this can say it for me. Take it as a token of friendship from a Rajput. It was given to me by my father, and it has tasted blood more times than I can count. You're a brave and honest man, and I think we'll meet again."
    Before Hawksworth could speak, Vasant Rao embraced him warmly and melted into the crowd.
    A pathway was clearing through the glaring nobles, and Hawksworth quickly slipped the katar into his doublet as he leaned over to secure the chest. When he reached the silver railing, Sarmento was waiting.
    "Let me welcome you to Agra, Captain." The Jesuit spoke quietly in English, his face a hard mask. "I pray God gave you a pleasant journey."
    "I thought you were bound for Lahore."
    "In time, Captain, in time. But we have an Agra mission as well. Our flock here grows. It must be tended. And do you remember what we agreed that night in Surat?"
    "Translate for the Inglish ambassador." Arangbar's voice interrupted, speaking in Persian. "I would know his name."
    "He asks your name." Sarmento spoke quietly to Hawksworth in English. "You must bow when you give it."
    "I am Captain-General Brian Hawksworth, ambassador of His Majesty, King James the First of England." Hawksworth replied in Turkish, trying to remember the speech he had been told to deliver. A look of delighted surprise flashed through Arangbar's eyes. Hawksworth bowed and then continued. "His Majesty, King James, has asked me to convey his friendship to His Most Noble Majesty, Arangbar, Moghul of India, together with certain unworthy tokens of his regard." Hawksworth tried to think quickly of a way to explain the unimpressive gifts King James had sent. "Those trifles he sends are not intended as gifts deserving of Your Majesty, for that would be a bounty no single man could deliver. Instead he has asked me to bring certain common products of our country, not as gifts, for they are too unworthy, but as samples of English workmanship that Your Majesty may examine personally the goods he offers your merchants in trade. These are the first of many, more-worthy gifts he is now assembling for Your Majesty, to be sent on future voyages to your land."
    "You speak the tongue of the Moghuls, Ambassador. Already your king does me honor. I welcome you in his name." Arangbar leaned forward to watch as Hawksworth opened the clasp on the chest.
    The first items were samples of English woolens, lace, and brocade, crafted into doublets. Hawksworth laid these aside and took out a silver-trimmed brace of pistols, a gold- handled sword, an hourglass in carved ivory, and finally a gold whistle studded with small diamonds. The Moghul peered down from his marble throne impassively, and then called for them to be brought to him.
    While he examined each gift briefly, assessing it with a quick glance and calling for the next, Hawksworth reached into the corner of the box and withdrew the next present, a three-cornered English hat topped with a feather. When Arangbar saw the hat his eyes brightened.
    "At last I can look like a topiwallah ." He pushed aside the other gifts and called for the hat. He turned it in his hand for a moment, then removed his jeweled turban and clapped it on his head with delight.
    "The feringhi hat is a puzzling invention, Ambassador Khawksworth." Arangbar stumbled over the pronunciation of the name as he signaled for a