Hawksworth found himself marveling as he glanced at Janahara's calculating eyes.

I'd not trust her with two pence. He must be G.o.d's own fool.

Arangbar sat silent for a moment, savoring his own p.r.o.nouncement, then he turned to Janahara and spoke to her in a dull slur.

"Ask something of me. Let me prove to the Inglish that I can never deny you."

Janahara turned as though she had not been listening. Hawksworth knew she had been straining for every word.

"What could I ask, Majesty? You have given me all I could ever want.

Tonight you even gave me a husband for my daughter. Now I can die with the peace of Allah."

"But I must give you something." He settled his wine cup shakily on the carpet, jostling red splashes across the Persian design. "You must name it."

"But there is nothing I could ask that I do not already have."

"Sometimes you vex me with your good nature. The Inglish will now suspect the Moghul of India is a vain braggart." He fumbled with his turban, trying to detach the large blue sapphire attached to the front.

"I will give you a jewel, even though you have not asked it."

"I beg Your Majesty." She reached to stay his hand. "There is nothing more I could ever want."

"But I must give you something."

She smiled in defeat. "If you must bestow a present, why not give something to the bride and groom? This is their wedding, not mine."

"Then at least you must name it. It will be my gift to you through them." He turned to Hawksworth. "Whatever else you do. Inglish, never marry a Persian. They forever study to try your patience."

Hawksworth noticed Nadir Sharifs eyes harden as he listened. He slowly gripped the side of his bolster and absently pulled away a piece of gold fringe.

"Then give them a small token, to show your confidence in Allaudin."

"I asked you to name it."

"Very well. Perhaps you could grant him the royal _jagirs _in Dholpur, those closest to Agra."

Arangbar's sleepy eyes widened slightly.

"Those _jagirs _always go to the prince nearest the throne. I granted them only last year to Prince Jadar, as part of his price to undertake the campaign in the Deccan."

"But Prince Allaudin can administer them more easily. He's here. And you can compensate Jadar with others. Perhaps some in the north, near the fortress of Qandahar? You'll have to send him there after the campaign in the Deccan." Janahara's voice was silken now.

Hawksworth turned to see Nadir Sharifs face growing ashen.

She's trying to drive Jadar into oblivion. Rob him of his best estates, then send him to defend a piece of mountain rock. Surely Arangbar will refuse. Jadar will never agree. She must know that. Nadir Sharif certainly knows it.

"What would Prince Jadar say to such a trade?" Arangbar sipped from his winegla.s.s and shifted slightly, his eyes again barely in focus.

"Why should he object? He's never here. And surely he'll be ready to obey Your Majesty and return to defend Qandahar after he completes his campaign in the south. The threat from the Persian Safavis in the north is already growing."

"I doubt very much he will agree so easily to march north again. Not yet. Though I pray to Allah that he would."

"Then this will give him all the more reason."

"He may not see it as a reason. He may see it as a betrayal. You know he's temperamental."

Hawksworth suddenly found himself wondering if the trade had been planned with Allaudin. It was obvious Nadir Sharif had been taken completely by surprise.

"Then I suppose it's best dropped." Janahara turned her face away. "You can just forget I ever asked."

Arangbar looked crushed. He sipped thoughtfully on his wine for a moment.

"Perhaps if I consulted Prince Jadar first." He paused to study his empty wine cup. "The _jagirs _ were granted . . ."

"Perhaps Your Majesty thinks Prince Allaudin should have no estates at all? Perhaps you think he is not yet fit?"

"He's fit, by Allah. He's my son." Arangbar impulsively seized another ball of opium and began to chew on it thoughtfully. "I'll find a way to compensate Jadar. Surely he'll be reasonable. After all, there must be a wedding gift."

"Then you'll agree to grant it?" Janahara's tone was quiet and inquiring."

"Majesty." Nadir Sharifs voice seemed strangely unguarded. "Prince Jadar . . ."

Arangbar seemed not to hear him. "I grant it. In the morning I'll summon the _qazi_, and let this be recorded as my gift to my youngest son and his new bride." Arangbar's tenseness seemed to dissolve as he leaned back on the bolster and took another ball of opium. "But only on the condition that he perform his duty tonight. Let him plow the field he has before he's granted more."

Arangbar turned to Hawksworth. "Do you know what else will happen, Inglish, if he fails in his duty the first night?"

"No, Majesty."

"Some of her women will send him a distaff, which they use with their spinning wheels. With a message that since he cannot do a man's work, it is fitting he should do a woman's. But I think he'll succeed."

Arangbar turned to Janahara with a wink. "He's been practicing for months with the _nautch _girls in the palace."

The queen did not smile as she took a rolled betel leaf from a tray.

A messenger appeared at the foot of the dais and performed the _teslim_. His voice was quivering. "The sheet has not yet come out, may it please Your Majesty."

Arangbar laughed. "Then perhaps the furrow is too narrow to receive his plow. Have a mullah bless some water and send it in to him. And tell him I'm waiting to see if he's yet a man."

"A Shi'ite mullah, Your Majesty, or a Sunni?"

"From this night forward, he will have Shi'ite mullahs perform all the duties for his household," Janahara interrupted.

The messenger performed the _teslim _to the queen and backed from the room. Arangbar sat silent, drinking.

"What does it matter?" He finally turned to her. "Let him have whatever he pleases."

"That is easy for you to say. But it does not please Allah. Tonight should be taken as an omen."

"Tonight is an omen of nothing. Tonight my son is charged to make a woman out of a Persian girl of fifteen, who knows nothing of her duties in bed. But he'll succeed. Give him time."

"I think tonight is an omen. Allah is not pleased when you allow open heresies to flourish."