"I am in wet clothing," said Rustam Iniattir. "You have no reason to fuss over me."
"On the contrary; I am not fussing, I am guarding my respected associate," said Sanat Ji Mani, now touching the Parsi's neck and feeling his racing pulse. He concealed the distress he felt with a calm, steady manner. "You have worried yourself into a dangerous state. I have a tincture that will help you."
"You need not bother," said Rustam Iniattir, a bit testily.
"Well, that may be," said Sanat Ji Mani, "but your family would not thank me if you were to collapse here, so I ask you to permit me to avoid that possibility; the Sultan's deputies might find it questionable and decide I am holding you prisoner. If you would recline on the bench?"
"This is foolishness," said Rustam Iniattir as he did what Sanat Ji Mani asked; he stifled a moan as he lay back.
Belatedly Garuda arrived with the lamps, stood shocked for a long moment, then asked tentatively, "Do you want these hung, my master?"
"Of course I do," said Sanat Ji Mani as he loosened Rustam Iniattir's belt. "Most of them need to be here, where they can illuminate what I am doing." He did not need the lamps to see, but was aware that his lack of them would cause comment in his household.
"Shall I fetch the pilgrim?" Garuda inquired, reluctantly going about his task.
"Why?" Sanat Ji Mani countered; he could see that Rustam Iniattir was having trouble breathing.
"To pray for him," Garuda said. "Each of them has linked his karma with the other. The pilgrim's prayers will help him."
"Do not bother Lum for the time being. Rustam Iniattir is not in mortal danger," said Sanat Ji Mani with a confidence he did not possess. "I will need some tea made of turmeric and ginger. Go to the kitchen and order it, then bring it to me as soon as it is ready." This was as much to give Garuda something to do as to get the tea. He snapped off one of the young willow's branches, pulled back a length of bark and held it out to Rustam Iniattir. "Chew this. It will help you."
Rustam Iniattir, still doing his best to control his coughing, did as he was told. He tried to speak but could not keep from coughing his dry, hacking coughs. He chewed more vigorously to show he was making an effort.
Garuda finished hanging the lamps and hurried off toward the kitchen, going at a more rapid pace than was his wont; Rojire passed him in the corridor as he returned with the chalcedony flask.
"There you are," Sanat Ji Mani approved. "In good time." He took the flask, opened it, and, raising Rustam Iniattir's head with one hand, held the flask to his lips with the other. "Drink this. You need not spit out the willow-bark."
"How much?" Rustam Iniattir asked, wheezing a little with the question.
"Not too much. I will stop you if you take too much." Sanat Ji Mani watched carefully as the opalescent liquid trickled into his mouth.
Rustam Iniattir sputtered as he strove to drink the tincture, straining it through the chewed willow-bark in his mouth. At last he licked his lips as Sanat Ji Mani removed the flask. "The taste is… strange."
"So it is," Sanat Ji Mani agreed. "But it will do you good, in spite of that." He eased Rustam Iniattir's head back onto the bench. "If you will lie there and chew on the willow-bark until Garuda brings the tea?"
"If that is what is required," said Rustam Iniattir in a tone of great concession; his little coughs had lessened and his skin was no longer whey-pale.
Rojire tugged Sanat Ji Mani's sleeve. "What is wrong? What happened?" he asked in Latin.
"His pulse was too rapid and he could not breathe fully. The tincture will slow his pulse and he will recover. The willow-bark is useful, too." Sanat Ji Mani answered, still in the Delhi dialect. "He has become over-anxious and as a result, he has reached a point where his sinews are too tight to work properly."
"I recall you have dealt with this condition before," Rojire said, keeping his tone neutral.
"And not always successfully," Sanat Ji Mani agreed, this time in Latin. "Still, I think he will be himself again if he does not continue to fret."
Rojire glanced over toward the place where Rustam Iniattir lay. "What has troubled him so much?"
"He is being subjected to ruinous taxes. I suppose I will also soon have higher demands made on me as well. The Sultan wants to increase his army." Sanat Ji Mani sighed. "I am glad of the warning: I will spend the next few days making more jewels. You, old friend, must prepare to leave."
"Are we going away?" Rojire asked without any sign of surprise.
"You are going to escort Avasa Dani away from here while I can still arrange passage for you both. I will pay her uncles enough to keep them from protesting. You will go with Rustam Iniattir and his family to Cambay, and there go aboard either the
Silken Wind
or the
Eye of Night
, whichever is departing for the Red Sea, and you will go to Alexandria and wait for me there."
"You are telling me to leave you here?" Rojire asked with some heat.
"I depend upon you to deliver Rustam Iniattir, his family, and Avasa Dani to such safety as can be found away from this city. You will have to depart quickly, and I cannot do that, for a number of reasons, the first being that if all of us should leave at once, the Minister of Taxes, Rents, and Revenues would probably seize everything we have; I would prefer to keep title to this place if I can, and I know Rustam Iniattir does not want to sacrifice all his family has striven to achieve for the last two centuries. I will tend to the business of settling our affairs, and as soon as I have put all in order, I will come after you." Sanat Ji Mani sighed. "I can pay the higher taxes for a while, but Rustam Iniattir cannot. And his nephew may need some help before he is ready to manage his work as factor."
"When you say quickly, what do you mean?" Rojire was still suspicious. "I know you of old, and I know your ways. I remember Leosan Fortress, as you should, as well."
"This is nothing like Leosan Fortress, or Karmona." Sanat Ji Mani looked up at the screens above the courtyard, noticing the shine of the lamps on the parchment. "Ten days, I should think, would be time enough for Rustam Iniattir to make ready, and you as well. Then go south."
"You can instruct me on the route later," Rojire said irritably, then relented. "I will make the arrangements."
"Thank you," said Sanat Ji Mani with such simplicity that Rojire was moved in spite of himself.
"Should I ask Lum to delay his departure so he can travel with us?" Rojire proposed, his demeanor unchanged, although he once again spoke the Delhi dialect.
"I doubt he will accept such an offer, but make it, if you wish to," Sanat Ji Mani said, also in that language, handing the chalcedony flask back to Rojire. "Now, if you will, go and fill a vial with this tincture and bring it to me. Garuda will be here with tea in a moment, and I will have to tend to Rustam Iniattir as soon as he returns."
"As you wish, my master," said Rojire, going toward the door.
"And Rojire," Sanat Ji Mani said after him.
"Yes?" He waited to hear what Sanat Ji Mani might say.
"To answer your question before Rustam Iniattir arrives, about the scrawny man: I must assume he is a spy, and anything that can be turned to my disadvantage will surely fuel his purpose." Sanat Ji Mani made a philosophical gesture, then walked across the courtyard to continue his ministrations to Rustam Iniattir, accompanied by the steady murmur of the rain.
* * *
Text of a letter from Kanwar Gotanipi, military commander of the north-western quadrant of Delhi to the Sultan's Leader-Commander of the Army.
* * *
To the most potent, honorable, and just Leader-Commander Ahdin bin Daulat, your most loyal and sincerely devoted lieutenant Kanwar Gotanipi submits his report at the Autumnal Equinox, with the heartfelt prayer that it will find favor in your esteemed eyes.
I have, in accordance with your orders, conducted an inspection of the walls of my quarter of the city, and I submit to you now my estimations of what I have seen. First, the repairs ordered by the late Sultan Firuz— may your Allah show him favor in your Paradise— and may I be pardoned for writing his illustrious name— are substantial enough, although the material used was not of the highest quality nor the workmanship of the strictest standards. Still, I must tell you that
I am satisfied that all but the most ruinous attack might be withstood behind the walls here. There are undoubtedly other parts of the city that are in more urgent need of shoring up than this quarter.
The gates in the walls are generally in good repair, although one, made of thick planking and iron staples, has a few rotten places in the wood, which may cause you to decide to replace the planking. The frame is also not as strong as it might be— if it were reinforced, it would be more able to withstand any attack. I do not say this is required, but it may be advisable. The archers 'walk high on the wall is in reasonable condition, although the stones are loose in three places: I have marked those places on the enclosed chart.
You made specific reference to the foreigners who live in this part of the city, and to that end, I will tell you that Shighriz of Bukhara has brought more sheep-and goat-skins into his warehouse. He has paid the tax on them grudgingly, but he has paid it in full, and so cannot be denied the right to sell his wares. He has informed me that he will have another caravan arriving, bringing skins and wool, and some tanned leather as well, in the next month or so, all of which should be acceptable to the Sultan's deputies. Also he reports that one of his wives has died and her ashes have been sent back to her father in Bukhara.
Maliq Keral, the merchant of Sind, has reduced the size of his household. He claims it is because his taxes are too high, and that he is being singled out for unjust claims because he is not a Muslim or a devotee of traditional native gods. That he has taken up the teaching of the Satvas has brought him under scrutiny from Muslim and Brahmin alike, for the Satva sect is looked upon with suspicion by many. His complaints have been passed on to the Minister for Taxes, Rents, and Revenues for his review. Also, I have noted that he was so disrespectful of the Sultan that he actually called the Sultan by his name, showing how far he has strayed from the conduct expected of a resident of Delhi. He might as well be living among the Turks, or the Chinese if he has so little regard for our great Sultan.
The family of Taray Sroashar is in arrears with payment of their taxes, and he claims that he cannot put his hands on the amount required before his grace period has expired. I have perused his house, and I am persuaded that he has funds he has not admitted to pos-
sessing. He claims his holy books teach that the End of the World is near, and that paying taxes now is useless, for himself and for the Sultan. Such an unorthodox teaching is open to question, and I believe that this may be nothing more than a ruse to avoid the taxes he owes. I have informed him he will not be allowed to leave Delhi until at least three-quarters of his tax obligations are discharged. He may try to be forgiven this debt, but it is my belief that if he leaves the city, none of the money will ever be paid.
The Parsi, Rustam Iniattir, has departed the city, as you know, leaving behind his nephew Zal to tend to the family's affairs. Rustam Iniattir paid the departure tax without argument and so was allowed to go on his way. He was accompanied by the manservant of the foreigner Sanat Ji Mani, Rojire, who is escorting Avasa Dani to a safer place, in accordance with the terms for guardianship left by her husband when he took up the life of a mendicant.
As to Sanat Ji Mani, he has declared his intention to depart from Delhi after the Winter Solstice to return to his homeland. He has paid an advance on his departure taxes and has signed a pledge to deed his property to the Sultan for his use. He continues to offer his medical skills to those in need, and for that reason he has been excused from the secondary foreign-residents' tax. He has not asked for any greater reduction of his taxes, and I am certain he will not renege on his commitments now.
The family of Raghavan Chayn has lost three children in as many weeks, and they have honored the dead in accordance with their traditions. The observances he has requested to make are incomplete, and it is his obligation to continue the ceremonies for the dead; any lack of diligence on his part will meet with dishonor to his family and disgrace to the memory of his children. Raghavan Chayn has also asked that he might have his taxes reduced until the dark of the year so that he may abide by the period of mourning his faith requires. In this instance, since two of the dead children were boys, the request is not unreasonable, and it is my recommendation that you grant him the relief he seeks. Not to mourn within the dictates of his beliefs would be a most reprehensible act, and one that would not redound to the Sultan's credit.
I have included my evaluation of holdings of all the foreigners keep-
ing household in this quarter, some one hundred sixteen of them, not just the ones singled out above; most of them have made no changes in the conduct of their lives over the last six months, and for that reason, I have not included any specific reference to them. If you would prefer a more comprehensive, individual itemization of particulars for each, you have only to ask me, and I will undertake the inquiry at once. You will want to review those amounts before I pass them on to the Minister of Taxes, Rents, and Revenues, in case you wish to assess a higher amount for the cost of your defenses. Whatever that amount may be, append it to my report, and I will see that it is brought to the Minister's attention at once.
