The turbaned crowd scarcely had time to exclaim its delight before a blue flame suddenly appeared from behind where the wheels had been, illuminating the palace walls in a shimmering, ghostly light. As it grew, Hawksworth realized it was an artificial tree whose branches were saturated with black powder and brimstone. Next more flames spewed from the tops of five towers that had been erected near the riverfront. There were sharp reports, as though a musket had been fired, and dense streaks of red billowed into the sky. All around powder pots began to explode, hurtling lightning, dazzling white with camphor, and writhing serpents of flame into the smoky night air.
"Well, Inglish, what do you think?' Arangbar turned to Hawksworth with a delighted smile. "Have you ever seen anything to compare?"
"We have fireworks in England too, Your Majesty, particularly on the eve of St. John's Day, when we have barges of fireworks on the Thames. And sometimes they're used in plays and pageants. And at the wedding of His Majesty's daughter, four of King James's gunners gave a show with a fiery castle, a dragon, a damsel, and St. George. But English fireworks generally make more noise than these." Hawksworth paused, wondering how much to tell. "And some countries in Europe use fireworks in battle, Majesty. Helmets that throw fire, swords and lances with fiery points, and bucklers that give out flames when struck."
Arangbar gave him a puzzled glance. "But what good are those, Inglish? In battle the most important use of flame is the fire lance. What use are sparking swords? Watch and you will see what I mean."
Arangbar pointed to a line of Rajput marksmen, carrying horn bows and heavy spears, who had assembled at one side of the clearing. While they fell into a formation perpendicular to the river, servants were placing clay pots on small stands at the opposite side, perhaps seventy yards away. The Rajputs watched impassively as the arrows in their bows were lighted, and then on the shout of their commander they lifted their bows and fired in unison.
Ten streaks of flame shot across the riverfront, and the crowd fell expectantly silent. All the arrows seemed to reach their target at precisely the same instant. Each had been aimed at a separate pot, and as they impacted, the silence was rent by what sounded like a single explosion. The pots, Hawksworth realized, had been primed with powder, ready to detonate.
The smoke was still drifting across the grounds when torch carriers with large flambeaux moved to the center, illuminating scaffolding that had been hastily erected. More clay pots, painted white, hung suspended from the scaffolds on long ropes. The servants set the pots swinging and then fell back, while the Rajputs ignited the tips of their spears.
Again flame streaked across the clearing and again there was a simultaneous explosion as the spears caught the swinging pots.
Arangbar joined the cheers, then turned and slapped Hawksworth on the shoulder. "That, Inglish, is how you use fire in battle. You must put it where you want it. No soldier of India would be daunted by trick swords and bucklers."
"My king agrees with you, Majesty. He leaves such toys to the Germans."