The Moghul

and took back the book. "The next one, the Art Woman, has a voice like a peacock, and she delights in singing and poetry. Her carnal desire may be less strong than the Conch Woman, at least until she's properly aroused, but then her kama salila is hot, with a perfume like honey. And it's abundant, producing a sound with the act of union. She is sensuous, but for her lovemaking is always a kind of art."
    "Who would be an Art Woman?"
    She looked at him and smiled wryly. "I think Shirin, the one who fascinates you so much, may well be an Art Woman. But I don't know her body well."
    But I will, Hawksworth told himself.I’ll know all of her. Somehow. I swear it.
    "And what about the Lotus Woman?"
    "According to Kalyana Mai she's actually the highest order of woman. She's a spiritual being, who loves to converse with teachers and Hindu priests. She's always very beautiful, never dark, and her breasts are full and high. Her yoni is like an opening lotus bud and her kama salila is perfumed like a lily newly burst."
    "And who would be a Lotus Woman?"
    "The only one I've ever known for sure is in Agra now. She's a classical dancer, a Hindu temple dancer. Her name is Kamala."
    "I saw a few dancers recently. At the Shahbandar's estate house. In my feringhi opinion they weren't of a very high order."
    "Those were nautch girls, common whores. They degrade and debase the classical dance of India for the purpose of enticing customers. Kamala is nothing like them. She's a great artist. For her the dance, and lovemaking, are a kind of worship of the Hindu gods. I don't entirely understand it, but I could sense her power the one time I saw her dance. When I saw her I began to believe what people say, that she embodies the female principle, the divine female principle that defines India for the Hindu people. Believe me when I tell you she's very different from anyone here in Surat. She knows things that no one else knows. People say they're explained in a very old book she has."
    "How can there possibly be any more to know?" Hawksworth thought of the hundreds of pleasure tricks Kali had taught him, delights unknown in Europe. "What's left to put in this other book?"
    "Her book is one I've never actually seen. I've only heard about it. It's a sacred text of the Hindus', an ancient sutra, in which the union of man and woman are shown to be a way of finding your own divine natures, the God within you both. I'm told it's called the Kama Sutra, the Scripture of Love and Pleasure."
    Hawksworth found himself beginning to be overwhelmed. "Maybe we'd better start with this book. What exactly does it say?"
    "The Ananga-Ranga explains that each order of woman must be aroused, must be awakened to her pleasure, in a different way. At different times of day, with different caresses, different kinds of kisses and scratches and bites, different words, different embraces during union. It says if you learn to know women well, you will understand how to give and receive the greatest enjoyment with each."
    "Is it really so complicated?"
    "Now you're starting to sound like some Muslim men I know, who lock their women away and make love to boys, claiming women are insatiable. With desires ten times stronger than those of a man. But they're actually afraid of a woman, so they believe she's to be enjoyed quickly and as little as possible. They care nothing for her own pleasure. But a woman must be aroused to enjoy union to its fullest. That's why this book is so important. I happen to think you are one who cares about a woman's pleasure."
    Hawksworth stroked her smooth leg mischievously, then took the book and gently laid it aside. "Tell me what it says about a Conch Woman. What have I been doing that's right and wrong?"
    "The book says that the Conch Woman prefers union with a man in the third pahar of the night."
    "When is that?"
    "Time is counted in India by pahar . The day and the night are each divided into four pahars . The first pahar of the night would be between six and nine in the evening by feringhi time. The third pahar would be your hours between midnight and three in the morning. Is that not the very time I come to your couch?"
    "That's convenient."
    "It also says that on certain days of the moon, which it tells, the Conch Woman particularly enjoys having her body pressed with the nails of the man. Some days roughly, some days gently. And on certain days the embrace must be forceful, on certain days gentle. There are many special ways to touch