The Moghul

and cradled it against one arm. He stared down for a long moment, his eyes seeming to cloud, and then he pushed back part of the blanket to examine its contents more closely. With a withered finger, he reached in and stroked something inside the blanket. Then he looked up and smiled and said something to Jadar in Persian. The prince laughed and strolled to his side, taking the blanket in his own smoke-smeared hands and peering down into it with Nadir Sharif. They exchanged more words in Persian, laughed again, and then Nadir Sharif walked to the waiting woman, whose dark eyes now brimmed with joy. He stood looking at her for a long moment, then spoke to her in Persian and enfolded her in his arms.
    A cheer went up again from the onlookers, as they pushed forward to watch. Hawksworth turned to Shirin.
    "Is that who I think it is?"
    Shirin nodded, her eyes misting. "It's Mumtaz, the first wife of Prince Jadar and the only daughter of Nadir Sharif. He told Prince Jadar he decided today he wanted to see his grandson, since he wanted to see the face of the child who would be Moghul himself one day. Then he told Mumtaz he will die in peace now, knowing that his blood will someday flow in the veins of the Moghul of India." Shirin's voice started to choke. "I can't tell you what this moment means. It's the beginning of just rule for India. Nadir Sharif knew that if Prince Jadar was defeated today, the child would be murdered by Janahara. By defecting with his Rajputs, he saved Prince Jadar, and he saved his grandson." She paused again. "And he saved us too."
    "When do you think he decided to do this?"
    "I don't know. I still can't believe it's true."
    Hawksworth stopped for a moment, then whirled and seized her arm. "Jadar knew! By Jesus, he knew last night! The cavalry. He said the cavalry had to be held to the last. He knew they would turn on the Imperial infantry if he began to lose. He knew all along ."
    Shirin examined him with a curious expression. "I wonder if Mumtaz herself planned it. Perhaps she convinced Nadir Sharif to save his grandson." She paused. "This must have been the most closely guarded secret in all of Agra. Nadir Sharif somehow kept even the queen from knowing he would defect with the Rajputs or she would have surely killed him." Shirin's voice trailed off as she pondered the implications. "He's astonishing. Janahara has never entirely trusted him, but somehow he must have convinced her to let him command the Rajput cavalry. What did he do to make her finally trust him?"
    Nadir Sharif embraced Mumtaz once more, then bowed lightly again to Jadar and turned to leave. As his glance swept the torchlit crowd, he noticed Hawksworth. He stopped for a second, as though not believing what he saw, then broke into a wide smile.
    "By the beard of the Prophet! Can it be? My old guest?" He moved toward Hawksworth, seeming not to notice Shirin. "May Allah preserve you, Ambassador, everyone at court thinks you've fled India. For your sake I almost wish you had. What in God's name are you doing here?"
    "Someone tried to murder me at Fatehpur." Hawksworth turned and took Shirin's arm. "And Shirin. It seemed like a good time to switch sides."
    "Someone actually tried to kill you? I do hope you're jesting with me."
    "Not at all. If Vasant Rao and his men hadn't appeared in time to help us, we'd both be dead now."
    Nadir Sharifs eyes darkened and he looked away for a moment. "I must tell you that shocks even me." He turned back and smiled. "But I'm pleased to see you're still very much alive."
    Hawksworth studied Nadir Sharif for a moment. "Do you have any idea who might have ordered it?"
    "This world of ours is fraught with evil, Ambassador." Nadir Sharif shook his head in resignation. "I sometimes marvel any of us survive it." Then he looked back at Hawksworth and beamed. "But then I've always found you to be a man blessed with rare fortune, Ambassador. I think Allah must truly stand watch over you night and day. You seem to live on coincidences. I was always amazed that just when His Majesty ordered you out of Agra, the Portuguese decided to seize one of His Majesty's personal cargo vessels and by that imprudent folly restored you to favor. Now I hear you were attacked in the Fatehpur camp by some scurrilous hirelings . . . at the very moment the prince's Rajputs just happened to be nearby to protect you. I only wish I enjoyed a small portion of your luck." He smiled. "But what will you be doing now? Will you be joining