"If you will come with me?" Rogerian said, gesturing toward the corridor. "There is a withdrawing room just a few steps along."
"A most gracious courtesy to a guest," said Rustam Iniattir, trying to regain the polite demeanor he had had when he first arrived.
"It is what my master would do," said Rogerian, and opened a door on the other side of the corridor, revealing a room beautifully furnished with a broad couch, a writing table, and Sanat Ji Mani's red-lacquer chest. Elaborate wall-hangings depicting the seasons and made in France provided the principle decor, with milky light from clerestory windows to provide light for the handsome display.
"More elegance," said Rustam Iniattir. "I do not believe I have seen weaving like that before."
"The hangings would be thought sacrilegious by the Mamelukes, depicting human beings as they do. But within these walls we may show them safely enough." Rogerian bowed toward the couch. "Rest and restore your peace of mind. When you are ready, we will discuss business and I will show you more of the house."
"Thank you. I think I may have drunk the wine too quickly. I must ask your pardon for anything I might have said that offended you." He cleared his throat.
"You have not offended me, Rustam Iniattir, nor have you said anything that would spite my master." Rogerian backed out of the room, but did not close the door at once.
"You are good to say so," Rustam Iniattir told him. "And a short while for reflection should restore my mind." He made an apologetic gesture as he sank onto the couch. "I cannot tell you how—"
"You need not say anything." Rogerian assured him. "When you are ready, ring the bell you will find on the writing table and I will come."
"I will," said Rustam Iniattir. "I cannot imagine how I came to forget myself so… so heedlessly."
"No matter," said Rogerian as he closed the door. He stood in the hallway for a short while until he could hear Rustam Iniattir snoring, and then he went away to the back of the house to fetch parchment and ink, preparing to draw up the contracts that would expand Rustam Iniattir's trading empire into all the ports of Europe.
* * *
Text of a letter from Bhedi Tanka, military leader of Deogir to Rajput Hasin Dahele, carried by special messenger.
* * *
To the most Esteemed Rajput Hasin Dahele, Lord of Beragar and Ruler of Devapur, the greetings of Bhedi Tanka, Kshatriya Caste and military leader of the city and region of Deogir, lying to the north of your lands.
O most Worthy Rajput, it is with dismay that we learn of your adventures along the Narmanda River and we hear with alarm your stated intention of expanding your territory by moving to the north, which would infringe upon the lands held by my Puissant Rajput, who is master of this city and region as far as the Narmada River west to the Arabian Sea and east to the city of Asirgarh. These holdings are protected by a strong and ready army that would repel any attempt made against Deogir, by you or any other.
The reason I dare to address you is to let you know that your advances will be stopped, your men killed or castrated and sold as slaves to be sent far to the west if you should be so foolish as to enter my master's lands. Deogir is larger than Beragar and has access to the coast, which gives us many advantages that you do not enjoy. Therefore I urge you to consider the damage that will be done if you persist in your efforts.
Make no mistake, O Rajput: you will be defeated and your name will be infamous for generations to come if you challenge Deogir. Go
south of the Godavari, and be content with what your grandfather has left to you. Do not continue on this course which must end in catastrophe for you and all your people.
This at the first new moon after the Balanced Day-and-Night.
There will be no second warning.
Bhedi Tanka
8
A map was spread out on the table, and Hasin Dahele leaned over it, a short rod in his hand which he used for a pointer. "This is where we can cross the Narmanda; there is a bridge that has been used by merchants and caravans for decades." His reception room was empty but for the two of them and a pair of Guards at the far end of the room; it was late afternoon and the day was beginning to cool, with a breeze wandering in through the open windows.
"You will not find it easy to take your entire army over a single bridge; it is a bottleneck, one that puts you at a tactical disadvantage and could expose your army to all manner of assault that would sunder your numbers and lead to their defeat," said Sanat Ji Mani. "You have pushed your territory to the south bank of the Narmanda; be content with that, and with the recognition of other Rajputs that your claim to this territory is not to be questioned. You have shown that your army is strong— why weaken it with hard campaigning and fighting?" He turned away from the map. "Rajput, you will have opposition waiting for you if you insist on waging war."
"Do not tell me again to seek peace; peace will not bring me what I am destined to achieve— what I deserve, and well you know it," said the Rajput, standing up and glaring at Sanat Ji Mani. "I rely upon your advice because I know you have experience of conquest."
"And I have found it to be a devastation and a waste," said Sanat Ji Mani emphatically.
"Because you have no army to lead; it would be different if you
did, I do not doubt," said Hasin Dahele, unconvinced. "If I put you at my side, in the van of my army, you will soon learn to love victory."
"I have no wish to fight with you, or any other army," said Sanat Ji Mani, thinking back to the many campaigns he had fought, and how little difference winning or losing had made. "Battle has brought me nothing but pain and loss, as it will bring them to you."
"The Gods have shown otherwise," said Hasin Dahele. "If I ignore Their course, I will lose more than war will cost me."
"How can you know?" Sanat Ji Mani persisted. "You have not put your gods to the test."
"No man may do that and be unscathed," said the Rajput brusquely. "They are not your gods; They are mighty."
Sanat Ji Mani indicated the regions marked on the map. "All the other Rajputs say the same thing, no doubt. You have my advice, however little it may be worth to you. You may use it or not: you rule here."
"And you do not wish to rule?" The Rajput was incredulous. "You, of all men?"
This time Sanat Ji Mani spoke directly. "Whatever you may think me, I have no wish for war, or conquest."
Hasin Dahele laughed aloud. "You still persist in your game: very well, you are nothing but a traveler on the roads, not quite a pilgrim and not quite a beggar. You are only a foreigner, a stranger in my country. Your plight is that of hundreds of others." He sighed. "I grow weary of this dissimulation, so I must prove that I can do all that you might do, had you the army to support you. When I have shown myself worthy, you will recognize my power and you will ride beside me in your right identity."
"My identity is Sanat Ji Mani," he said, knowing it was only one of many names he had used over the centuries, and that his name was the least of his secrets. "How can I be more than that? How do you think I have deceived you? Why should I wish to?" He waited for the answer, his senses alert, hoping that the Rajput had learned nothing of his true nature, for that would mean imprisonment at the least, and would expose Tulsi to greater danger than was already the case.
"You came here an outcast, as you yourself have admitted," said Hasin Dahele with feigned patience. "A
limping
outcast, a foreigner, not young, who is exiled, coming from the north, from outside of
Delhi. We all know what happened after Delhi. All the world knows how the men of Timur-i rebelled. Your servant was enough to give you away."
"Tulsi? How?" Sanat Ji Mani fought off the sudden fear that gripped him. "What has she to do with it?"
"She, too, is a foreigner, from Timur-i's army." The Rajput grinned as if he had made a point.
"Yes," said Sanat Ji Mani impatiently. "You knew that from the day I came here."
"And why was that? How could I know to look for you, and the woman with you? Why did I send my Guards to seek you out? You did not think it strange that I should ask my men to bring you to my palace, for my protection?" the Rajput asked, answering his own questions before Sanat Ji Mani could speak. "Vayu Ede said you were coming. Alvars are visionaries, and he has brought his vision to me. Because of him I expected you to be here, and here you are."
"Vayu Ede is a most capable man," said Sanat Ji Mani warily, "but he and I have never met until I came here; he did not visit me in Delhi. He was not with Timur-i's army. I did not know why you brought me here, and no one has been willing to tell me, although I have asked. You have told me before that Vayu Ede has visions, but what has that to do with me?"
"He promised you would come," said Hasin Dahele. "He said you would make me Ruler of the World."
"I?" Sanat Ji Mani shook his head. "I am an outcast as we both know. How can I do this thing?"
"You persist in your obstinacy," said Hasin Dahele, scowling.
"I have tried to maintain myself," Sanat Ji Mani corrected. "I have never represented myself as more than I am."
Hasin Dahele paced down the room, away from the trestle-table where the map was laid out. "Why do you not declare yourself? I have waited for months, and you have not been willing to reveal who and what you are."
"I am an exile. I wish to reach Chaul so that I might find a ship to carry me and Tulsi Kil across the Arabian Sea," said Sanat Ji Mani.
"And from there, to go to the western-most holdings of Timur-i, no doubt," said Hasin Dahele smugly.
"Why should I do that, if I am fortunate enough to get away from here?" he asked. "You have assumed things about me that are untrue."
"If you say they are, then I must accept it, for a while yet," said Hasin Dahele, sounding petulant. "You are a most difficult man, Sanat Ji Mani."
"It is not my intention to be," he said.
A vagrant gust of wind lifted the edge of the map, raising it into the air and skidding it along the trestle-table. Both men turned to look at it; Hasin Dahele hurried to put his hand on it to keep it from dropping to the floor. "You must come and give me the benefit of your experience," he said as he laid his sword on the map. "I am not done with you yet, or with planning."
"I have told you as much as I can," said Sanat Ji Mani. "If you want to extend your war, you must do it on your own counsel."
"There must be more fighting," said the Rajput as he studied the map again. "I cannot gain control of the coast if I do not act, and without acting, I might as well surrender to Deogir."
"Can you not keep within your region and govern it with care?" Sanat Ji Mani asked quietly.
"Would you do that, if Beragar were yours? Or would you fight? Would you broaden its frontiers? Would you try to bring it glory?" His challenge was hot-tempered and impetuous. "I cannot believe that you, of all men, would be content with half-measures when there is so much more to be had."
Sanat Ji Mani did not move from where he stood, six paces away from the Rajput, "I would seek to make Beragar prosperous, to secure its frontiers and to establish trade contracts with the other Rajputs whose lands abut on Beragar. I would make treaties to ensure peace and I would strive to avoid battles. That way all benefit, the people of Beragar most especially."
"You expect me to believe that?" Hasin Dahele exclaimed, rounding on him. "How can you speak so slightingly of me?"
"I intend no slight," said Sanat Ji Mani. "I am trying to keep you from damaging your people and yourself."
"By recommending being satisfied with what I have? You have the audacity to declare peace?" The Rajput was incredulous. "You have ruled an empire and you begrudge me one."
"I have not ruled an empire," Sanat Ji Mani said softly but with such intensity of feeling that the air seemed to shake with his words.
"Of course you have. It might not be as vast as you wish, but you have made your own," said Hasin Dahele.
"And what empire is this?" Sanat Ji Mani asked, appalled at what he was hearing.
"Why,
your
empire. Timur-i Lenkh's Empire," said Hasin Dahele in exasperation, and nodded fiercely.
"Timur-i's Empire?" Sanat Ji Mani repeated, dumbfounded.
"Have you another empire besides?" Hasin Dahele demanded. "Do not pretend innocence. I have known from the first."
"Known what from the first? this ridiculous notion?" Sanat Ji Mani still could not believe what he had heard.
"I was content to keep my knowledge to myself," said Hasin Dahlele, doing his best to excuse himself. "You cozened it out of me."
Sanat Ji Mani stood, transfixed by the ludicrous implications of this misconception. "Timur-i Lenkh? Why do you suppose that I— What has that to do with—" But even as he asked, he became cognizant of what the Rajput had assumed; much of his experience here, so puzzling before, now made a perplexing kind of sense: he knew what Vayu Ede had meant when he said
