1637: The Peacock Throne, стр. 26
“My price too high for you, Father?”
De Jesus shook his head and visibly gathered himself. “I am not without feeling on this matter myself.”
Carvalho’s raised brows asked a question.
“The Konkani people of the interior, the ones I have been ministering to…”
“Yes?”
“Many of those who have converted, even those who have been baptized with by my own hand, have recently been threatened with investigation by the Holy Office of the Inquisition.”
Carvalho’s smile was bitter as he reached for a skin hanging from his saddle.
“So you see, we could agree to your stipulation, but any promises we make would not be binding on the viceroy until he and the archbishop decide the matter…” The mercenary seemed to ignore the churchman’s answer, removing the stopper with red-stained teeth and putting it to his lips. The bulging skin shrank considerably as he swallowed several mouthfuls from the skin.
Only when he was done did he answer. “Well, if they—and you—want my continued support, then you will make every effort to see that he follows through on any promises you make here today.”
“So you will help us?” Methwold asked.
“I will,” Carvalho said, offering the wineskin to William.
“Thank God,” De Jesus said as the Englishman took a long pull on the skin.
“For now,” Carvalho said, looking the younger man in the eye, “and provided you can present sureties regarding those things you claim to be authorized to grant in order to gain my assistance.”
“We have letters and grants sufficient to back our offers,” De Jesus said, bristling slightly, clearly not happy with the mercenary’s tone.
Aurangzeb’s camp
Aurangzeb’s tent
“A group of ferenghi seeks an audience, Shehzada.”
“What manner of ferenghi?” Aurangzeb asked, refreshed in spirit if not in body. Prayer always steadied him that way.
“They are brought before you by your Portuguese umara, Carvalho. They include another Portuguese—this one a priest—and an Englishman I am almost certain your father exiled and that Mullah Mohan later caused to be attacked as he fled to Surat.” A moment’s thought. “Methwold, I believe he is called, though I cannot recall any titles or other names.”
Interesting. I suppose I should not be surprised. The English would want to return to our good graces so they can resume trade. And yet, to come with the representatives from the Portuguese…
“Their stated purpose?” he asked, still musing.
“Carvalho claims they are here to offer the assistance of the Estado da India to your cause, Shehzada.”
“The nature of that assistance?”
“They were not forthcoming with your humble servant, Shehzada.”
Aurangzeb resisted the urge to smile as he arranged himself among the cushions. While the diwan he had selected from among the many munshi that applied for the position, the eunuch Painda Khan had certainly not been blessed by God with an overabundance of humility. And Aurangzeb was not inclined to reward such a lack with smiles or any other sign of indulgence.
“Bring them before me.”
“As you command, Shehzada,” said Painda Khan. If offended by the prince’s curtness, he had the good sense not to show it.
Aurangzeb filled the time the heavy eunuch required to summon the ferenghi to his presence by reading the reports coming from the courts of Dara and Shah Shuja. As they were written by those who had already declared for one side or another, the reports generated by the imperial news writers were generally not the most reliable sources for intelligence—especially on the motives of his brothers—but they did provide information on the promotions and other announcements of the courts they reported on. From such information, he could deduce a great many things.
One particular report from Dara’s court gathered his attention. It seemed that Dara had promoted the Afghan, Amir Salim Gadh Yilmaz, to command five thousand. The large number of men nominally at his command did not signify. It was never easy to find quality sowar to fill out that high a rank, and after the last year of heavy, repeated recruitment, it would be doubly difficult. And that was before considering mounts. Then again, Dara had access to Father’s enormous treasuries at Agra and Gwalior Forts.
No, Aurangzeb’s interest was more personal: by all reports from Father’s assassination, Yilmaz was a warrior of great skill and courage. Given his ascendance, the man must have been more politically astute than Aurangzeb had originally given him credit for, having become first Father’s confidant and now rising ever higher in Dara’s service. Such men of quality were not common among those who were in Dara’s service before he’d ascended the throne, and it was important to study those who might serve as his elder brother’s chief general before ever meeting them on the field of battle.
The ferenghi party was ushered into the tent, distracting him with their mere presence. Unknown quantities were either opportunities or liabilities waiting to be identified by the wise.
Deciding he wished to begin determining which category his visitors would fall into, Aurangzeb nodded permission for them to approach rather than making them wait upon his pleasure.
Carvalho, wearing the robe Aurangzeb had given him on promotion to command five hundred, was first behind the diwan as they were led forward. The artillery captain had proven his worth on the campaign into the Deccan, commanding and being commanded without regard for race or religion. Such was rare among the ferenghi, who preferred adherents to their own religion in all things.
Thinking of Christians, Aurangzeb let his eyes slide to the man a step behind and to the left of Carvalho. The priest appeared an unimposing, slope-shouldered man. His robes were gray, and not cut in the same fashion as those of the Jesuits Aurangzeb had encountered in Shah Jahan’s court. In fact, they were quite plain in comparison.
Such was the small size of the tent that Aurangzeb was unable to examine the third man before the diwan stopped