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The Moghul

The Moghul

Titel: The Moghul Kostenlos Bücher Online Lesen
Autoren: Thomas Hoover
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don't think I ever told you he murdered my father in Goa, many years ago."
    Jadar listened in silence. "I had no idea." Then his eyes grew grim. "I know him all too well. You may or may not be aware he was once planning to arm Malik Ambar against me. Unfortunately there's very little I can do about him just now. But I have a long memory too, and someday, Allah willing, I'll put an end to his trade. Will that be justice enough for us both?"
    "I'll drink to it."
    "And I'll drink with you." Jadar took a deep swallow of sharbat . "To England and India. And now, for the other reason I asked you both here today. To see what you think about something. It's curious, but living here in this little palace, I've found myself growing obsessed by an idea. I'd like to know if you think it's mad." He drank again, then signaled the waiting eunuch to refill their cups. "If I become Moghul one day, I've decided to build something very special for Mumtaz, a work of beauty unlike anything India has ever seen. Staying here on Jagmandir Island has given me the idea. But first come inside and let me show you something."
    Jadar rose and strolled back through the columned doorway into the domed room. "Did you happen to notice this when you came in?" He pointed to one of the two-foot- high niches in the curved walls. Hawksworth realized that each niche was decorated around its top and sides with inlays of semi-precious stones set into the marble. Each inlay was a painting of a different flower.
    "Do you see what he's done here?" Jadar motioned Hawksworth and Shirin closer. "This is far more than merely a design. It's actually a painting in rare, colored stone—onyx, carnelian, jasper, agate." Jadar paused. "Think carefully. Have either of you ever seen anything like this in Agra?"
    "I've never seen anything like it before, anywhere."
    "Of course you haven't. This is unique. It's truly astonishing. Here on Jagmandir Island, with the design of this room, Rana Karan Singh has actually invented a new style of art. It's phenomenal. Now look up." Jadar pointed to the cupola ceiling. "Notice the sensuous curve of the dome. Like a bud just before it bursts into flower. And at the top you see more inlays of precious stone. I think it's the most magnificent thing I've ever seen. Its shape and color and purity move me almost to tears." He paused and looked at Hawksworth mischievously. "So can you guess what I've decided to do someday?"
    "Build a room like this in Agra?"
    Jadar exploded with laughter. "But this room is so small! What sort of gift would that be for Mumtaz? No, Captain, if I should eventually find myself ruling India, I've decided to build Mumtaz an entire palace like this, a Mahal, all of white marble and inlay. I'll surround it with a garden larger and more beautiful than anything India has ever seen. It will be a place of love and of mystery, with the strength of a Rajput warrior in the harsh sunshine, the warmth of a Persian woman in the moonlight. The outside will be covered with verses from the Quran carved in marble, and inside the walls will be a garden of jeweled flowers. Minarets will rise at each corner, calling all India to prayer, and its dome will be a cupola with the subtle, sensuous curve of a ripening bud. It will be immense, the most magnificent Mahal in the world. And it will be my gift to her." He paused, his eyes glowing. "Is the idea completely insane?"
    "It's beautiful." Shirin was beaming.
    "I think it's magnificent." Jadar seemed not to need encouragement, as he drank again from his sharbat . "So now you know the other reason I invited you here this afternoon. To tell you what you may see when you return to Agra. I haven't decided on the exact location yet, but it will be on the bank of the Jamuna, placed so Mumtaz can watch the sun set over the water, just as we do here. I wanted to tell you both, for I sense you two are among the few who could really appreciate what a bold idea this is." Jadar looked sharply at Shirin. "Now, you must never, never tell Mumtaz, whatever else you two Persians may chatter on about. For now let's keep it a secret among us. But someday, someday it will tell all the world how much I love her." He sighed. "You know, at times I worry I'm nothing more than a romantic Persian myself, deep inside."
    He looked about the glistening walls once more, then reluctantly turned and walked out onto the balcony again.
    "The peace I feel here overwhelms me sometimes. It quiets all the unrest in my

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