"Captain Hawksworth, I'm glad you're here. You're almost a Rajput yourself by now. Do you want to comb your hair? It's how we prepare for what may happen. Who knows which of us will see the morrow?"
"I can die just as well with my hair the way it is."
"Then you're not entirely a Rajput after all. But you're still welcome to join us." He held out one of the boxes.
Hawksworth opened the box and gingerly took out one of the balls. As he rolled it under his nose, it triggered a distant memory of his first night in Surat and Mukarrab Khan's dinner party. Suddenly he stopped dead still.
It was opium.
"Jesus Christ! Have you all gone mad?" He flung the ball to the ground and whirled on Vasant Rao. "That's the last thing you need if you hope to fight at all. It's like eating death."
"Affion prepares a Rajput for battle, Captain. The more we eat, the stronger we become. It gives us the strength of lions."
"Good Jesus help us all."
Hawksworth pushed his way incredulously back through the milling crowd of infantry and mounted cavalry, feeling as though the world had collapsed. All around him Rajputs were eating handfuls of opium, combing their hair, embracing in farewell. Many had already put on their khaftan, the quilted vest they wore under their armor. He wondered how long it would be before they became drunk with opium and began killing each other.
God, we're all going to die. Can't Jadar stop it? Can't he at least stop them from eating opium before we're attacked? And where are they moving the cannon? Out of the camp? What the hell is happening?