"And your merchants, I assume, also expect to profit here."
"That's the normal basis of trade." Hawksworth shifted, easing his leg.
The Shahbandar glanced downward, but without removing his lips from the tube of the hookah. "I notice you have a wound, Captain Hawksworth. Yours would seem a perilous profession."
"It's sometimes even more perilous for our enemies."
"I presume you mean the Portuguese." The Shahbandar cursed the servant anew and called for a new taper to fire the hookah. "But their perils are over. Yours have only begun. Surely you do not expect they will allow you to trade here."
"Trade here is a matter between England and India. It does not involve the Portugals."
The Shahbandar smiled. "But we have a trade agreement with the Portuguese, a firman signed by His Majesty, the Moghul of India, allowing them free access to our ports. We have no such agreement with England."
"Then we were mistaken. We believed the port of Surat belonged to India, not to the Portugals." Hawksworth felt his palms moisten at the growing game of nerves. "India, you would say, has no ports of her own. No authority to trade with whom she will."
"You come to our door with warfare and insolence, Captain Hawksworth. Perhaps I would have been surprised if you had done otherwise." The Shahbandar paused to draw thoughtfully on the smoking mouthpiece. "Why should I expect this? Although you would not ask, let me assume you have. The reputation of English sea dogs is not unknown in the Indies."
"And I can easily guess who brought you these libelous reports of England. Perhaps you should examine their motives."