"Then if you'll not wager with me, wager with my painter."
"Begging Your Majesty's pardon, your painter is no more suited to wager with an ambassador than I am to wager with Your Majesty."
"Then wager with my prime minister." He turned to Nadir Sharif. "What will you lay?"
"Five thousand gold mohurs, Majesty."
Hawksworth swallowed hard, realizing the amount was almost ten thousand pounds English sterling, more money than he had ever seen.
"Money is not an honorable bet among those who speak for great princes, Your Majesty." Hawksworth glanced about wildly, then an idea came. "But perhaps I could wager your prime minister a horse, a fine Arabian stallion."
"Done." Arangbar beamed. "I'll have the paintings tonight."
The painter stared at Arangbar in dismay.
"It's not possible, Majesty. There's not time."
"You'll find a way. Or you'll owe Nadir Sharif a horse."