"I am Amanat Mubarik, Your Majesty. I maintain a thousand horse, the finest Arabian blood in India." The man stood straight and spoke with a loud, clear voice.
"Is not your stipend the amount prescribed any man who maintains that number?"
"It is, Your Highness. But I am not any man. I am a Pathan, and my father was Fath Shah. No enemy of Your Majesty has ever seen the back of my shield. His Highness, Prince Parwaz, saw me defend the royal encampment five years ago when he moved south of the Narbada. With my cavalry I held position when all others called for retreat. I challenge any man here today to do me battle in your presence. With any weapon. On horseback or on foot. Then you may decide if I am as other men."
The Moghul examined him carefully for a long moment.
"If you are not like other men, then I will let you prove it." Arangbar pointed beyond the marble porticoes. "Will you fight with the lion?"
The Pathan commander turned and stared blankly into the sunlit square, where the captured lion was snarling and pawing at its chains.
"A lion is a wild beast, Your Majesty. What trial is it for a man to contest with a lion?"
"I think it would be the best trial of all." Arangbar's eyes began to glow.
"A beast has no understanding, Majesty." He shifted nervously as he realized Arangbar was not jesting. "It's not a fit thing for a man to fight."
"You will joust with him." The fancy seemed to flood Arangbar with pleasure, and he turned abruptly to one of the guards. "Give him a glove and a truncheon. That should suffice for a man who claims bravery above all others."