He had asked himself again and again over the past week why he had suddenly been forgotten by Arangbar. He finally concluded it was the distracting turmoil that had gripped Agra and the court since Samad's death.
The Sufi's last words had been repeated throughout the city, and already there were rumors of impending calamity: the bazaars were alive with talk of a Persian Safavid invasion from the northwest, a rebellion among the Imperial guards, an impending holocaust that would burn all Agra to ash, a universal plague. The streets had an apocalyptic air, with omens foreseen in every temple.
Another reason for Arangbar's preoccupation could be the rumors from the south. Word was sweeping Agra that Prince Jadar and his army had been savaged by the Deccani forces and were now retreating northward, with Malik Ambar in pursuit. If this story were true, then the Abyssinian's defeat of Jadar must have been overwhelming, since rebels did not normally pursue Moghul forces. But this story was still merely rumor. There had been no actual reports of any engagements in the south.
Jadar's possible defeat, so the talk in Agra went, had gone very heavily with Arangbar, and accounted for his increasing dependence on opium and wine. Those who had seen him reported the Moghul was growing noticeably weaker. And as his strength waned, so too did his authority. Ever since the night of the wedding, Queen Janahara had been moving to assume more and more of the prerogatives of power. Arangbar already seemed to be becoming a figurehead. The only sanctuary she had not yet invaded was the Diwan-i-Khas.
Those evening gatherings Arangbar still ruled like a god, and the unusual note he had sent to Hawksworth was worded almost more like an order than an invitation. It confirmed vividly the reports that Arangbar was growing more erratic by the day.
Around Hawksworth sat the usual assembly of Arangbar's closest advisers, men whose perpetually smiling faces he had come to know well over the past weeks. Prominent among them as always was Nadir Sharif, who now seemed to be avoiding Hawksworth's glance. Also in attendance was a special contingent of Rajput guards, in Imperial turbans and tunics. Hawksworth could never remember having seen these particular guards in the Diwan-i-Khas before.
When the last official had arrived, the Rajput guards moved across the doorway and the kettledrum was sounded. Moments later the tapestry behind the throne was pushed aside by two eunuchs and Arangbar emerged into the light. He stumbled momentarily on the edge of a carpet, then recovered his balance and took his seat on the white marble throne. His dull eyes glistened against the lamplight as the men in the room dropped to teslim. For the first time he seemed more annoyed than amused when Hawksworth failed to bow to the carpet. He glared at him for a long moment and then spoke to Nadir Sharif, who stood waiting by his side. The prime minister turned to the room.
"Ambassador Hawksworth, His Majesty commands you to come forward."
It was abrupt language rarely heard in the Diwan-i-Khas, and the room immediately fell silent. Hawksworth rose and tightened his belt, feeling his apprehension rising. As he neared the throne, he found himself seeing not Arangbar's expressionless gaze, but the face of Shirin as she waited for help.
"Inglish, stand there." He pointed to the side of the throne opposite the Jesuits. "Tell me, any fresh news of your king's fleet?"