The Moghul

her."
    Hawksworth watched her quickly mask the sadness in her eyes as she reached for the hookah. At that moment he wanted more than anything in the world to tell her it wasn't always true, but he knew she would hate the lie. Instead he took out his own betel leaf and cleared his throat awkwardly.
    "You've never told me how you came to be called Kali. Mukarrab Khan said that's not your real name."
    She looked at him and her eyes became ice. "He's a truly vicious man. What did he say?"
    "That you would tell me." He paused, bewildered. "Don't you want to?"
    She wiped her eyes with a quick motion. "Why not? You may as well know. Before someone else tells you. But please try to understand I was very lonely. You can't know how lonely it becomes in the zenana . How you long for a man to touch you, just once. You can't imagine. After a while you become . . . sort of mad. It becomes your obsession. Can you understand? Even a little?"
    "I've seen men at sea for months at a time. I could tell you a few stories about that that might shock you."
    She laughed. "Nothing, absolutely nothing, shocks me any more. But now I'll shock you. There was this beautiful eunuch who guarded the zenana at night. He was Abyssinian, very tall and striking, and he was named Abnus because he was the color of ebony. He was truly exquisite."
    "A eunuch?" Hawksworth stared at her, disbelieving. "I always thought . . ."
    She stopped him. "I probably know what you always thought. But eunuchs are not all the same. The Bengali eunuchs like Mukarrab Khan has were sold by their parents when they were very young, and they've had everything cut away with a razor. Muslim merchants buy boys in Bengal and take them to Egypt, where Coptic monks specialize in the operation. That's the type called sandali . They even have to pass water through a straw. But the operation is so dangerous few of the boys live, so they're very expensive. Abnus had been sent to His Majesty as a gift from some Arab merchant, who was so stingy he simply crushed the testicles of one of his grown slaves instead of buying a Bengali boy. No one realized Abnus could still do almost everything any man can do. It was our secret."
    "So you made love to a eunuch?" Hawksworth found himself incredulous.
    Kali smiled and nodded. "Then one day our Kashmiri ward servant entered my apartment unannounced. She had suspected us. I didn't know until that moment she was a spy for the palace." She stopped and a small shiver seemed to pass through her. "We were both condemned to death. I didn't care. I didn't want to live anyway. He was killed the next day, left on a pike to die in the sun."
    Kali paused and her lips quivered slightly. Then she continued. "I was buried up to the neck in the courtyard. To watch him die. Then, in late afternoon some Imperial guards came and uncovered me. And they took me back into the palace. I was delirious. They took me into this room, and there she was."
    "Who?"
    "Queen Janahara. She offered me a chance to live. I didn't know what I was doing, where I was, anything. Before I thought I'd already agreed." At last a tear came. "And I've never told anyone. I'm so ashamed." She wiped her eyes and stiffened. "But I've never done what I told her I would do. Not once."
    "What was that?"
    Kali looked at him and laughed. "To come here with Mukarrab Khan. And spy on Shirin. So now and then I just send some silly nonsense to Her Majesty. I know what Shirin is doing . . . and I admire her for it."
    Hawksworth tried to keep his voice even. "What exactly is it she's doing?"
    Kali stopped abruptly and stared at him. "That's the one thing I can't tell you. But I will tell you that I'm now also supposed to be spying on you too, for Khan Sahib." She laughed again. "But you never say anything for me to report."
    Hawksworth found himself stunned. Before he could speak, she continued.
    "But you asked about my name. It's probably the real reason I despise Janahara so much. Before, I was named Mira. My father was Hakim Ali, and he came to India from Arabia back when Akman was Moghul. But the queen said I could never use those names again. She said that because I'd caused Abnus' death, she was renaming me Kali, the name the Hindus have for their bloodthirsty goddess of death and destruction. She said it would remind me always of what I'd done. I hate the name."
    "Then I'll call you Mira."
    She took his hand and brushed it against her cheek. "It doesn't matter now. Besides, I'll probably never see you