The Moghul

with jewels, suspended from each end of a central beam by heavy gold chains interwoven with silken cords. The beam itself, and its supports, were carved from rosewood, inlaid with jewels, and plated with gold leaf.
    This event of universal joy was never witnessed by more than a few of Arangbar's closest circle. The first tier of court officials were permitted in watch, family members, favored officers with rank over five thousand horse, and a minuscule list of select foreign ambassadors.
    Hawksworth tried to look formal and attentive, but his mind was still reeling from the news. All the way to the Red Fort he had tried to sort out the implications.
    That crafty bastard Spencer. He well deserves to be Director of the East India Company. It's perfect. He timed it perfectly.
    Why did he decide to send a second voyage? Did they accidentally rendezvous with the Discovery at Bantam? Or was it no accident? Could Elkington have ordered them north? Or maybe it's some sort of scheme with the Hollanders? Who could the Captain-General be?
    Spencer, you deceiving whoremaster. You double-crossed Elkington, never told him about the letter from King James, and now you, or somebody, has double-crossed me.
    Or saved the mission.
    There's sure to be a bounty of gifts for Arangbar. If they can make it around Goa, and avoid the Portugals. . .
    "Ambassador, this way." Nadir Sharif was standing near the balance, motioning him to the front.
    "Ambassador, His Majesty is overjoyed at the news of the English fleet. He has asked that I seat you here, next to me, so I may translate the Persian for you and allow you to prepare a full report to your king." The prime minister had changed to formal dress, with a tapestried turban and cloak, under which were skin-tight, pastel-striped pants. He wore a necklace of enormous pearls and in the sash at his waist was a gold-handled katar set with emeralds. He was barefoot. “This is an ancient yearly custom of all the Great Moghuls.''
    Hawksworth quickly unbuckled his shoes and tossed them by the edge of the vast carpet, near the arcade.
    "Seat yourself here next to me and I will explain everything to you. His Majesty thinks the news of your trading fleet is extremely auspicious, coming as it did on the first day of his birthday celebration. He wants to return the honor by allowing you to join him in the royal circle at the wedding of Prince Allaudin and Princess Layla."
    "That's very gracious of His Majesty. And when do you think he's planning to sign the firman approving English trade?"
    "Your firman should be little more than a formality now, Ambassador. He has already accepted in principle the terms you requested, but you must realize he is quite preoccupied. I think you will have what you want in a few more weeks. His Majesty has assumed a natural fondness for you, but I still foresee various encumbrances from our friends in Goa. Much depends on the fleet, and what happens if the Portuguese intercept it."
    Nadir Sharif moved closer and lowered his voice. "You
    know, Ambassador, the appearance of your fleet bring nearer the time we should work more closely together. Someday soon perhaps we can discuss the price of English wool. I have five jagirs in northern Gujarat that produce superb indigo. They are convenient to the port of Cambay, just a few kos north of Surat. And, as it happens, I have a private understanding with the Shahbandar of Cambay. It may be possible to make arrangements that would help us both avoid some of the normal customs duties. I suggest we explore it."
    Hawksworth looked at him and smiled. I'll trade with you the day after hell turns to ice, you unscrupulous son of a whore.
    Kettledrums sounded at the back of the square and Hawksworth turned to see Arangbar making his entry followed by Allaudin and a gray-bearded wazir . The men around Hawksworth bounded to their feet as one, performed the teslim , and then settled again on the carpets. On Nadir Sharifs whispered urgings, Hawksworth also rose and bowed, without the teslim . . . causing Nadir Sharif’s eyes to flash momentary disapproval as they both resumed their seats.
    The Moghul was outfitted in the most magnificent attire Hawksworth had ever seen. He seemed to be clothed in a fabric of jewels: diamonds, rubies, pearls were woven into his cloak, and his sword handle appeared to consist entirely of emeralds. His fingers were covered with jeweled rings and chains from which dangled walnut-sized rubies. His chest was covered