Hawksworth was only half-listening to the man. He turned and looked back over his shoulder in time to see the Rajputs entering into the compound of the customs house. The leader of the horsemen caught his glance and smiled.
"Let me apologize again for our friends of the Rajput guard. You do understand they have no official standing. They serve whomever they are paid to serve. If that thief, the Shahbandar, discharged them tomorrow and then another hired them to kill him, they would do so without a word. Rajputs are professional mercenaries, who do battle as coldly as the tiger hunts game." He turned his horse onto a wide avenue that paralleled the river. The sunlight was now filtered through the haze of evening smoke from cooking fires that was enveloping the city.
"Do Rajputs also serve the governor?"
The man laughed broadly and smoothed the braided mane of his horse as he twisted sideways in the saddle and repeated Hawksworth's question for the other riders. A peal of amusement cut the quiet of the evening streets.
"My dear English captain, he might wish to hang them, but he would never hire them. His Excellency has the pick of the Moghul infantry and cavalry in this district, men of lineage and breeding. Why should he need Hindus?"
Hawksworth monitored the riders carefully out of the corner of his eye and thought he detected a trace of nervousness in their mirth. Yes, he told himself, why use Hindus—except the Shahbandar's Hindu mercenaries got the advantage of you in only seconds. While you and your pick of the Moghul cavalry were fiddling with your uncocked muskets. Perhaps there's a good reason the Shahbandar doesn't hire men of lineage and breeding.
Hawksworth noticed they were paralleling a wall of the city, a high brick barrier with iron pikes set along its capstone. Abruptly the wall curved across the road they were traveling and they were facing a massive wooden gate that spanned the width of the street. Suddenly guards appeared, each in uniform and holding a pike. They hurriedly swung wide the gate as the procession approached, then snapped crisply to attention along the roadside.
"This is the Abidjan Gate." The secretary nodded in response to the salute of the guards. "You can just see the field from here." He pointed ahead, then urged his horse to a gallop. A cooling dampness was invading the evening air, and now the sun had entirely disappeared into the cloud of dense cooking smoke that boiled above the city, layering a dark mantle over the landscape. Again Hawksworth felt his apprehension rising. What's the purpose of bringing me to a field outside the city, with dark approaching? He instinctively fingered the cool handle of his sword, but its feel did nothing to ease his mind.
Then he heard cheers from the field ahead, and saw a burning ball fly across the evening sky. Ahead was a large green, and on it horsemen raced back and forth, shouting and cursing in several languages, their horses jostling recklessly. Other mounted horsemen watched from the side of the green and bellowed encouragement.
As they approached the edge of the field, Hawksworth saw one of the players capture the burning ball, guiding it along the green with a long stick whose end appeared to be curved. He spurred his mottled gray mount toward two tall posts stationed at one end of the green. Another player was hard in chase, and his horse, a dark stallion, was closing rapidly toward the rolling ball. As the first player swept upward with his stick, lofting the burning ball toward the posts, the second player passed him and—in a maneuver that seemed dazzling to Hawksworth—circled his own stick over his head and captured the ball in midair, deflecting it toward the edge of the green where Hawksworth and his guards waited. Cheers went up from some of the players and spectators, and the horsemen all dashed for the edge of the green in chase of the ball, which rolled in among Hawksworth's entourage and out of play. The horseman on the dark stallion suddenly noticed Hawksworth and, with a shout to the other players, whipped his steed toward the arriving group.