"Nothing." Hawksworth seached for his voice. "Why is it so large?"
"This is the place where India is governed. And the Moghul does not live alone. He has to house over a thousand women, an army to protect him and his treasury, and more servants than man can count." The Rajput seemed momentarily puzzled by the question. Then he continued with a sly smile. "The fort was built by the Moghul’s father, the great Akman. People say it required over eight years to complete. He also built another complete city in the desert a few kos west of here, but later he abandoned it and moved back to Agra. Surely your English king governs from a palace."
"His Majesty, King James, has a palace at Hampton Court." Hawksworth paused. "But England is governed by laws made in Parliament, which has its own place to meet."
"It sounds like you have a very weak king. Captain Hawksworth, if he cannot rule." Vasant Rao glanced nervously at the guards. "You would do well not to tell that to Arangbar. In India there is only one law, the word of the Moghul."
As they entered the portico of the Amar Singh Gate, Hawksworth glanced behind him, relieved to see that their porters still followed, one at each side of his sea chest. Vasant Rao had cautioned him not to deliver all the gifts at once, since Arangbar would expect a new gift each time they met. King James's letter he carried personally, carefully secreted inside his doublet.
Inside the archway of the gate were sets of thick wooden doors, opened back against the sides. These inner doors bristled with long iron spikes, and as Hawksworth puzzled over them, Vasant Rao caught his questioning look.
"Those spikes embedded in the doors are to prevent war elephants from battering them in with their foreheads. It's common in a fortress." He smiled. "But then I keep forgetting your England probably has no elephants."
Ahead, at the terminus of the archway, the path was blocked by a heavy chain and armed sentries. The guards reined in their horses and began to dismount, while their leader passed brusque orders to Vasant Rao.
"We ride no farther," Vasant Rao translated as he swung from the saddle. "He says no one except the Moghul himself, his sons, or his women is allowed to ride through the Amar Singh Gate. It's strictly enforced."
Hawksworth paused one last time, feeling about him the weight of the thick walls and the ornate tower rising above them, a great blue jewel in the afternoon sun. For a moment he had the curious sensation of entering a giant tomb. He took a deep breath and slowly dismounted, feeling suddenly conspicuous in his formal silk hose and ruffled doubtlet.