Fearlessly she raised her arm and affectionately stroked the glossy neck, passing her hand gently downward across its face.
A tremor passed over the beast's frame. It stamped the ground and whinnied as if half pleased with the caress, yet still uncertain in its humor.
Ahmad hurried to the Rani's side, while others watched with expressions of alarm.
"Noble Lady," he urged. "I pray thee touch not the beast. Its temper is so uncertain that I cannot answer for your safety."
The Rani again laughed lightly, as she permitted the animal to sniff her hair, her face, and hands.
"Akbar knoweth whom to trust," she cried. "See, he discerneth a true Maratha, of whom it has been said, he is born in the saddle with a sword in his hand. I vow, O Ahmad," she added, "this day I will ride your Akbar, or go in no other manner to the White Turret."
Before Ahmad could interpose a further objection, she had gathered the reins in her hand, placed her foot in the stirrup, and sprung lightly on to the charger's back.
The horse swerved violently, then halted, with ears set back and form rigid.
A moment of suspense for those watching followed.