The Moghul Read online

  "This evening must be a time of farewell for us both, CaptainHawksworth. You know, the Hindus believe life and death are an endlesscycle that dooms them to repeat their miserable existence over and overagain. I myself prefer to think that this one life is itself cyclical,ever renewing. What was new, exciting, yesterday is today tedious andtiresome. So tomorrow brings us both rebirth. For you it is Agra, forme Goa. But I expect to see Surat again, as no doubt do you. Who knowswhen our paths will cross once more?" Mukarrab Khan watched as a eunuchshoved wide the door leading onto the torchlit garden. "You have been amost gracious visitor, tolerating with exemplary forbearance myunworthy hospitality. Tonight perhaps you will endure one last eveningof my company, even if I have little else left to offer."

  The courtyard was a confused jumble of packing cases and householdgoods. Servants were everywhere, wrapping and crating rolled carpets,bolsters, furniture, vases, and women's clothing. Elephants stood nearthe back of the courtyard, howdahs on their backs, waiting to beloaded. Goods would be transferred to barks for the trip downriver tothe bar, where they would be loaded aboard a waiting Portuguesefrigate.

  "My dining hall has been dismantled, its carpet rolled. We have nochoice but to dine this evening in the open air, like soldiers on themarch."

  Hawksworth was no longer hearing Mukarrab Khan. He was staring pasthim, through the smoke, not quite believing what he saw. But it was alltoo real. Standing in the corner of the courtyard were two Europeans inblack cassocks. Portuguese Jesuits.

  Mukarrab Khan noticed Hawksworth's diplomatic smile suddenly freeze onhis face, and turned to follow his gaze.

  "Ah, I must introduce you. You do understand the Portuguese language,Captain?"

  "Enough."

  "I should have thought so. I personally find it abominable and refuseto study it. But both the fathers here have studied Persian in Goa, andI think one of them knows a bit of Turki, from his time in Agra."

  "What are they doing here?" Hawksworth tried to maintain his composure.

  "They returned to Surat just today from Goa, where they've been thesepast few weeks. I understand they're en route to the Jesuit mission inLahore, a city in the Punjab, well to the north of Agra. Theyspecifically asked to meet you." He laughed. "They're carrying nocannon, Captain, and I assumed you had no objection."

  "You assumed wrong. I have nothing to say to a Jesuit."

  "You'll meet Jesuits enough in Agra, Captain, at the Moghul's court.Consider this evening a foretaste." Mukarrab Khan tried to smilepolitely, but there was a strained look in his eyes and he fingered hisjeweled ring uncomfortably. "You would favor me by speaking to them."

  The two Europeans were now moving toward them, working their waythrough the swarm of servants and crates in the courtyard. The ruby-studded crucifixes they wore against their black cassocks seemed toshoot red sparks into the evening air. Mukarrab Khan urged Hawksworthforward apprehensively.

  "May I have the pleasure to present Ambassador Brian Hawksworth, whorepresents His Majesty, King James of England, and is also, I believe,an official of England's East India Company.

  "And to you, Ambassador, I have the honor to introduce Father AlvarezSarmento, Superior for the Society of Jesus' mission in Lahore, andFather Francisco da Silva."

  Hawksworth nodded lightly and examined them. Although Sarmento wasaged, his face remained strong and purposeful, with hard cheeks andeyes that might burn through marble. The younger priest could not havebeen more different. His ruddy neck bulged from the tight collar of hiscassock, and his eyes shifted uncomfortably behind his puffed cheeks.Hawksworth wondered absently how long his bloat--too much capon and portwine--would last if Mackintosh had him on the third watch for a month.

  "You are a celebrated man, Captain Hawksworth." Father Sarmento spokein flawless Turki, but his voice was like ice. "There is much talk ofyou in Goa. The new Viceroy himself requested that we meet you, andconvey a message."

  "His last message was to order an unlawful attack on my merchantmen. Ithink he still remembers my reply. Is he now offering to abide by thetreaty your Spanish king signed with King James?"

  "That treaty has no force in Asia, Captain. His Excellency has asked usto inform you that your mission to Agra will not succeed. Our fathershave already informed the Moghul that England is a lawless nationliving outside the grace of the Church. Perhaps you are unaware of theesteem he now holds for our Agra mission. We have a church there now,and through it we have led many carnal-minded Moors to God. We haverefuted the Islamic mullahs in His Majesty's very presence, and shownhim the falsity of their Prophet and his laws. Indeed, it is onlybecause of the esteem we have earned that he now sends an ambassador tothe Portuguese Viceroy."

  Before Hawksworth could respond, Father Sarmento suddenly reached outand touched his arm imploringly. "Captain, let me speak now not for theViceroy, but for the Holy Church." Hawksworth realized with a shockthat he was speaking English. "Do you understand the importance ofGod's work in this sea of damned souls? For decades we have toiled inthis vineyard, teaching the Grace of God and His Holy Church, and nowat last our prayers are near to answer. When Arangbar became Moghul,our Third Mission had already been here for ten long, fruitless years.We strove to teach the Grace of God to his father, Akman, but hisdamnation was he could never accept a single True Church. He wouldharken to a heathen fakir as readily as to a disciple of God. At firstArangbar seemed like him, save his failing was not ecumenicity. It wasindifference, and suspicion. Now, after years of ignominy, we havesecured his trust. And with that trust will soon come his soul."Sarmento paused to cross himself. "When at last a Christian holds thethrone of India, there will be rejoicing at the Throne of Heaven. Youmay choose to live outside the Mystery of the Most Holy Sacrament, myson, but surely you would not wish to undo God's great work. I imploreyou not to go before the Moghul now, not to sow unrest in his believingmind with stories of the quarrels and hatreds of Europe. England wasonce in the bosom of the Holy Church, until your heretic King Henry;and England had returned again, before your last, heretic queen led youonce more to damnation. Know the Church always stands with open heartto receive you, or any apostate Lutheran, who wishes to repent and savehis immortal soul."

  "I see now why Jesuits are made diplomats. Is your concern the loss ofthe Moghul's soul, or the loss of his trade revenues in Goa?"Hawksworth deliberately answered in Turki. "Tell your pope to stoptrying to meddle in England's politics, and tell your Viceroy to honorour treaty and there'll be no 'quarrels' between us here."

  "Will you believe my word, sworn before God, that I have told HisExcellency that very thing? That this new war could destroy our yearsof work and prayer." Sarmento still spoke in English. "But he is a manwith a personal vendetta toward the English. It is our great tragedy.The Viceroy of Goa, His Excellency, Miguel Vaijantes, is a mannourished by hatred. May God forgive him."

  Hawksworth stood speechless as Father Sarmento crossed himself.

  "What did you say his name was?"

  "Miguel Vaijantes. He was in Goa as a young captain, and now he hasreturned as Viceroy. We must endure him for three more years. TheAntichrist himself could not have made our cup more bitter, could nothave given us a greater test of our Christian love. Do you understandnow why I beg you in God's name to halt this war between us?"

  Hawksworth felt suddenly numb. He stumbled past the aged priest andblindly stared into the torchlit courtyard, trying to rememberprecisely what Roger Symmes had said that day so many years ago in theoffices of the Levant Company. One of the few things he had neverforgotten from Symmes's monologue of hallucinations and dreams was thename Miguel Vaijantes.

  Hawksworth slowly turned to face Father Sarmento and switched toEnglish.

  "I will promise you this, Father. If I reach Agra, I will

  never speak of popery unless asked. It honestly doesn't interest me.I'm here on a mission, not a crusade. And in return I would ask onefavor of you. I would like you to send a message to Miguel Vaijantes.Tell him that twenty years ago in Goa he o
nce ordered the death of anEnglish captain named Hawksworth on the _strappado_. Tell him . . ."

  The crash of shattering glass from the hallway of the palace severedthe air between them. Then the heavy bronze door swung wide and Shirinemerged, grasping the broken base of a Chinese vase. Her eyes blazedand her disheveled hair streamed out behind her. Hawksworth thought hesaw a stain on one cheek where a tear had trailed, but now that trailwas dry. She strode directly to Mukarrab Khan and dashed the remainderof the vase at his feet, where it shattered to powder on the marbletiles of the veranda.

  "That is my gift to the queen. You may send it with a message in yournext dispatch. Tell her that I too am Persian, that I too know the nameof my father's father, of his father's father, of his father's father,for ten generations. But unlike her, I was born in India. And it is inIndia that I will stay. She can banish me to the remotest village ofthe Punjab, but she will never send me to Goa. To live among unwashedPortuguese. Never. She does not have the power. And if you were a man,you would divorce me. Here. Tonight. For all to see. And I will returnto my father, or go where I wish. Or you may kill me, as you havealready tried to do. But you must decide."

  Mukarrab Khan's face was lost in shock. The courtyard stood lifeless,caught in a silence more powerful than any Hawksworth had ever known.He looked in confusion at Father Sarmento, and the old Jesuit quietlywhispered a translation of the Persian, his own eyes wide in disbelief.Never before had he seen a Muslim woman defy her husband publicly. Thehumiliation was unthinkable. Mukarrab Khan had no power to order herdeath. He had no choice but to divorce her as she demanded. Buteveryone knew why she was his wife. What would a divorce mean?

  "You will proceed to Goa as my wife, or you will spend the rest of yourdays, and what little remains of your fading beauty, as a _nautch_ girlat the port. Your price will be one copper _pice_. I will order it inthe morning."

  "His Majesty will know of it within a week. I have friends enough inAgra."

  "As do I. And mine have the power to act."

  "Then divorce me."

  Mukarrab Khan paused painfully, then glanced down and absently whiskeda fleck of lint from his brocade sleeve. "Which form do you wish?"

  An audible gasp passed through the servants, and not one breathed asthey waited for the answer. There were three forms of divorce forMuslims. The first, called a revocable divorce, was performed when aman said "I have divorced you" only once. He had three months toreconsider and reconcile before it became final. The second form,called irrevocable, required the phrase be repeated twice, after whichshe could only become his wife again through a second marriageceremony. The third, absolute, required three repetitions of the phraseand became effective the day her next reproductive cycle ended. Therecould be no remarriage unless she had, in the interim, been married toanother.

  "Absolute."

  "Do you 'insist'?"

  "I do."

  "Then by law you must return the entire marriage settlement."

  "You took it from me and squandered it long ago on _affion_ and prettyboys. What is left to return?"

  "Then it is done."

  Hawksworth watched in disbelief as Mukarrab Khan repeated three timesthe Arabic phrase from the Quran that cast her out. The two Jesuitsalso stood silently, their faces horrified.

  Shirin listened impassively as his voice echoed across the stunnedcourtyard. Then without a word she ripped the strands of pearls fromher neck and threw them at his feet. Before Mukarrab Khan could speakagain, she had turned and disappeared through the doorway of thepalace.

  "In the eyes of God, Excellency, you will always be man and wife,"Father Sarmento broke the silence. "What He has joined, man cannotrend."

  A look of great weariness seemed to flood Mukarrab Khan's face as hegroped to find the facade of calm that protected him. Then, with analmost visible act of will, it came again.

  "Perhaps you understand now, Father, why the Prophet's laws grant usmore than one wife. Allah allows for certain . . . mistakes." He forceda smile, then whirled on a wide-eyed eunuch. "Will the packing befinished by morning?"

  "As ordered, Khan Sahib." The eunuch snapped to formality.

  "Then see dinner is served my guests, or put my kitchen _wallahs_ tothe lash." He turned back to Hawksworth. "I'm told you met her once,Ambassador. I trust she was more pleasant then."

  "Merely by accident, Excellency. While I was at the . . . in thegarden."

  "She does very little by accident. You should mark her well."

  "Your counsel is always welcome, Excellency." Hawksworth felt his pulsesurge. "What will she do now?"

  "I think she will have all her wishes granted." He turned wearilytoward the marble columns of the veranda. "You will forgive me if Imust leave you now for a while. You understand I have furtherdispatches to prepare."

  He turned and was gone. After a moment's pause, the despairing Jesuitstrailed after.

  And suddenly the courtyard seemed empty.