“I won’t—we won’t let that happen!” Jahanara whispered fiercely, willing Nadira to a silence she had no right to command and acceptance of the promise she had no true power to keep.
The Rose Court
“Where are you taking us, Bertram?” John asked, yawning. It had been a long day and he still wasn’t done. With Salim gone he’d been made Dara’s de facto adjutant, and he’d been making the rounds to all the different captains to reassure them all was right with the world, even when it wasn’t.
“I don’t know, precisely.”
John looked sidelong at the down-timer. “What you mean you don’t know? You asked us to come with you. I have things to do, Bertram.”
“Look, John: I don’t know exactly where we’re headed, I only know my bit.”
A heavyset eunuch shuffled out of the darkness carrying a lantern before John could reply to that bit of mystery. Gestured to silence, they were led through the perimeter of the harem.
John looked again at Bertram, but while the down-timer looked uncomfortable, his expression revealed nothing else.
Led down deserted halls John assumed must have been cleared expressly for them, he wished again they hadn’t lost the powder factory. Not only would he have liked to have seen what the massed fire of Talawat’s copies could have accomplished, watching Aurangzeb’s army take position outside the walls made him certain they were going to need all the firepower they could get.
“Jesus,” he muttered.
Bertram looked a question at him.
John shook his head and said quietly, in English, which he assumed the eunuch couldn’t speak, “Just can’t believe I’m in charge of some part of a battle, let alone a damn siege. Not only that, but one it sure as shit looks like we can’t win.”
“Take heart, John,” Bertram said. He looked as if he was about to go on but the eunuch silenced them with a glance.
Looking around, John realized he didn’t know this part of the fort. They’d gone down several flights of stairs and around so many corners he wasn’t really sure where he was relative to his quarters.
He was about to ask the eunuch just what the hell was going on when he made out a light ahead of them. His feet slowed involuntarily as he realized that in the party around the light stood Atisheh, Monique, Gervais, and, on closer inspection, Jahanara as well.
“John Ennis, welcome,” Jahanara said with a nod. Ilsa had described how beautiful the princess was, and even from the little John could see of her because of the veils, he could believe it. He’d never tell Ilsa, but he found Jahanara’s voice sexy as hell too.
“Begum Sahib,” John answered with a bow.
“I fear I must beg your forgiveness and forbearance for a few moments more. Not all of those summoned are present just yet.”
Puzzled, John nodded. Questioning glances at Bertram and Gervais went unanswered. Monique, though, seemed both nervous and…triumphant?
Seeing as no answers were forthcoming from his companions, John checked out their surroundings. The hall was getting a little cramped, at least as cramped as any part of the palace he’d been to. Atisheh and one of the other guards John didn’t know by name were standing beside a heavy ironbound door.
Another eunuch appeared out of the stairwell, closely followed by the imposing figure of Bidhi Chand, who appeared ready for an ambush. The former bandit was weird that way, always prepared to fight, but still conveying an air of relaxed confidence, even happiness, that John wished he could project.
John met the warrior’s eyes and nodded. The set of Bidhi’s shoulders relaxed fractionally. John hid a smile.
Not so relaxed he wasn’t thinking he might be about to be betrayed to the enemy! But then, who wouldn’t think that when summoned in the middle of the night?
John shook his head.
Jesus, I’ve been here so long I’m even starting to think like some kind of medieval warlord.
Beneath Red Fort
Jahanara did not fail to observe the exchange between Bidhi Chand and the up-timer. Upon consideration, it stood to reason the two might become friendly. John had, after all, been responsible for training Dara’s forces in the weapons and tactics of the up-timers. Even after Talawat’s factory exploded and took all hope of producing enough ammunition for the guns with it, Bidhi had quietly insisted John continue to train his Sikhs in the formations necessary to maximize the impact of the arquebus and muskets they did have at their disposal.
And now, she would reward his insistence. Rather, they would all reap the benefits of his stubborn refusal to give up on the idea that disciplined fire was preferable.
“I apologize for this late-night excursion, but I wanted to be certain that what I reveal here tonight comes as a surprise to Aurangzeb. I’m afraid I must also apologize for deceiving most of you as well. Some to such an extent that you will be justified in being quite angry with me. I hope you will forgive me, as I could see no way to avoid the necessity of lying and deceiving you.”
She swallowed, surprised at the depth of emotion she felt in asking these disparate people to forgive her. Unwilling to watch their reactions, Jahanara turned and beckoned Atisheh to open the door. The warrior woman smiled and turned the key in the lock before shoving the heavy door open.
Jahanara made a final check to ensure there were no open flames among the party. Seeing none and gently chiding herself for the caution Atisheh had assured her was unnecessary among the new tools Talawat had made, Jahanara strode through the portal and into the chamber beyond.
The lantern Smidha held revealed only a portion of the contents of the room. Freestanding wooden racks positioned back-to-back two tiers high stood directly across from the entry and marched into the darkness, each tier loaded with twenty Damascus steel shotguns. Every weapon had a
