The Moghul

run, and allow him to work there until his reputation is repaired. "You were fortunate, at least, that the largest part of her cargo had already been unladed."
    Elkington listened to Hawksworth's translation, his face growing ever more florid. "'Twas the damned pilot's knavery. Tell him I'd see him hanged if this was England."
    Mirza Nuruddin listened, then sighed. "Perhaps the pilot was at fault, perhaps not. I don't quite know whose story to believe. But you should know that in India only the Moghul can impose the death penalty. This matter of the pilot is past saving, however. It's best we move on. So tell me, what do you propose to do now?"
    "Settle our accounts, weigh anchor, and be gone." Elkington bristled. "But you've not heard the last o' the East India Company, I'll warrant you. We'll be back with a fleet soon enough, and next time we'll do our own hirin' of a pilot."
    "As you wish. I'll have our accountants total your invoices." Mirza Nuruddin face did not change as he heard the translation, but his spirit exulted.
    It worked! They'll be well at sea within the week, days before the Portuguese warships arrive. Not even that genius of intrigue Mukarrab Khan will know I planned it all. And by saving these greedy English from certain disaster, I've lured to our seas the only Europeans with the spirit to drive out the Portuguese forever, after a century of humiliation.
    India's historic tradition of free trade, the Shahbandar had often thought, had also brought her undoing. Open-handed to all who came to buy and sell, India had thrived since the beginning of time. Until the Portuguese came.
    In those forgotten days huge single-masted arks, vast as eight hundred tons, freely plied the length of the Arabian Sea. From Mecca's Jidda they came, groaning with the gold, silver, copper, wool, and brocades of Italy, Greece, Damascus, or with the pearls, horses, silks of Persia and Afghanistan. They put in at India's northern port of Cambay, where they laded India's prized cotton, or sailed farther south, to India's port of Calicut, where they bargained for the hard black pepper of India's Malabar Coast, for ginger and cinnamon from Ceylon. India's own merchants sailed eastward, to the Moluccas, where they bought silks and porcelains from Chinese traders, or cloves, nutmeg, and mace from the islanders. India's ports linked China on the east with Europe on the west, and touched all that moved between. The Arabian Sea was free as the air, and the richest traders who sailed it prayed to Allah, the One True God.
    Then, a hundred years ago, the Portuguese came. They seized strategic ocean outlooks from the mouth of the Persian Gulf to the coast of China. On these they built strongholds, forts to control not the lands of Asia, but its seas. And if no man could remember the centuries of freedom, today all knew well the simple device that held the Arabian Sea in bondage. It was a small slip of paper, on which was the signature of a Portuguese governor or the captain of a Portuguese fort. Today no vessel, not even the smallest bark, dared venture the Arabian Sea without a Portuguese cartaz . This hated license must name the captain of a vessel and verify its tonnage, its cargo, its crew, its destination, and its armament. Vessels could trade only at ports controlled or approved by the Portuguese, where they must pay a duty of 8 percent on all cargo in and out. Indian and Arab vessels no longer could carry spices, pepper, copper, or iron—the richest cargo and now the monopoly of Portuguese shippers.
    An Indian vessel caught at sea without a cartaz , or steering south when its stated destination was north, was confiscated; its captain and crew were executed immediately, if they were lucky, or sent to the galleys if they were not. Fleets of armed galleons cruised the coastlines in patrol. If a vessel gave cause for suspicion, Portuguese soldiers boarded her in full battle dress, with naked swords and battle cries of "Santiago." And while their commander inspected the ship's cartaz , Portuguese soldiers relieved passengers of any jewelry salable in the streets of Goa. Cartaz enforcement was strict, and—since a percentage of all seized cargo went to captains and crews of patrol galleons—enthusiastic. The seas off India were theirs by right, the Portuguese liked to explain, because they were the first ever to have the ingenuity to make claim to them.
    The revenues the cartaz brought Portugal were immense—not because it was