The Moghul

the sacred Bharata Natyam dance. You may not believe me when I tell you we are highly revered by the kings who reign in the south, lands where the Moghuls fear to tread. They know we are special among women. We are cultivated artists, and among the few Hindu women in India who teach our daughters to read and write."
    "I'll believe you." Hawksworth studied her, not quite sure it was true. "But if you're dedicated to a temple in the south, why are you here in Agra?"
    Kamala's dark eyes grew lifeless, and then she turned away. "I'm no longer a true devadasi . In truth, I have not danced at my temple for many years. The first time the Moghul’s army invaded the south, a Rajput officer who had deserted came to our temple to hide. He fell in love with me and forced me to come with him when he returned to Agra, telling me I must dance for him only." Her voice hardened. "But I never danced for him, not once. And three years later he was killed in a campaign in Bengal. Since that time I have had to live by my own hand. For many years now I've lived by teaching dance to the tavaifs in Agra."
    "Who?"
    " Tavaifs . Muslim dancing girls. Courtesans who live in beautiful houses here and entertain men. There are many in Agra and in the city of Lucknow to the east." Kamala's tone grew vague. "And I teach them other things as well."
    "But why did you insult the Moghul tonight? Do you really believe all the things you said?"
    "What I said was not a 'belief.' I don't understand what you mean by that. Things either are or they are not. What does it matter whether we 'believe' them? But what I did was foolish, I agree. Impulsive. I so despise the Moghuls. You know, I told the Moghul’s prime minister this afternoon I would never dance for Arangbar, that nothing could make me, but he forced me to come anyway."
    Hawksworth's eyes narrowed, and he dropped the shank of lamb he was holding. "What did you say! Nadir Sharif knew all along you would refuse to dance for Arangbar?"
    "Of course he knew. And I knew Arangbar would order me killed. That's why I wore all my diamonds. I thought if I was to die, it must be my dharma ."' She paused. "And you know, it's strange but I felt nothing. Except perhaps pity for my pretty little courtesans. Some of them are only girls, and I wondered who would teach them after I was gone."
    Hawksworth was no longer listening. He was trying to remember the exact sequence of what had happened in the Diwan-i-Khas .
    He arranged it, the bastard. Even the paintings. Nadir Sharif played with me like a puppet. Just so he could send her here. He knew I'd try to save her. But why would he do it, and in such a way I was never supposed to know? Is this so--called dancer supposed to be another of his spies?
    "You said you worshipped a god named Shiva. I thought Hindus worshiped Krishna."
    Kamala looked at him with surprise. "You know of Krishna? Yes, he is the god worshiped by the Rajputs of the north. But he is a young god. Lord Shiva is the ancient god of south India. He presides over the generation of life. His lingam symbolizes the male half of the force that created the universe."
    "And I suppose you're about to tell me that's the part of him you worship." Hawksworth kept a straight face.
    "He is revered in many aspects, including Nataraj, the God of the Dance. But yes, his lingam is worshiped. Have you seen the round stone pillars wreathed in garlands of flowers?"
    "As a matter of fact . . ." Hawksworth paused, then looked at her sharply. "There was something of that sort in the porters' lodge of the customs house at Surat, where my men and I were kept the morning we arrived."
    "Those pillars symbolize Shiva's lingam. Let me tell you about it. Once, back in the time of the gods, Lord Shiva was burdened with unhappiness. He was bereaved of his consort and weary with his being. And he wandered into a forest, where there were sages and their wives. But the sages scorned Lord Shiva, because he was haggard, and they forsook him in his time of sadness. So he had to make his way through the forest begging alms. However, the women of these sages felt love for him, and they left the beds of their men and followed him. When the sages saw their wives leaving to follow Shiva, they set a curse on him. Their curse was that his lingam would fall to the ground. Then one day Shiva did shed his lingam. And he was gone. Only his lingam remained, emerging upright from the earth. It had become stone, and it was of infinite length. All the