Methwold had been waiting for her. He had been trying to see her since arriving at camp. She had consented to a morning meeting last night mostly because she knew his presence during the most important battle of Aurangzeb’s fledgling reign would help distract her from her inability to influence the battle. For his part, Methwold had been so eager for an audience he’d been waiting for her. Still, she’d made him wait, had him made comfortable and served refreshments while she read the latest correspondence from her spies and servants.
He shifted slightly. That was the first sign of impatience he’d shown in the hour and more she’d made him wait. She reread the missive she’d been failing to comprehend and, failing to get any more from it than she had the last three times, looked at him.
“What is it I might do for you, President Methwold?” Nur asked, cocking her head as much to listen to the sounds of battle as what her guest had to say.
“I wish to ask a favor of you, Nur Jahan,” he said.
“Oh?” Nur was disappointed that he’d opened with precisely what he was here for. She’d been hoping for more…more intrigue, more distraction. She glanced at him. He was squinting into the dawn’s light. Nur’s eyes fell again on the report, noting the light had improved enough the lamp she’d been reading by was superfluous. Craving warmth, she turned her own face to the dawn, glad of the whim that had made her command the tent be placed just so. She had an excellent view of the red-yellow brow of the sun as it began to peep over the horizon. It also prevented her from seeing the walls of Red Fort and the battle being waged there while the great awning sheltered them from the morning dew.
“The arrangement the Company had with the Estado da India ended the moment they cut ties with the Sultan Al’Azam.”
“And as it ended badly, you will suffer for having agreed to it?” She asked, eyes closed, wishing she could feel the sun on her lips.
“I don’t know that ‘suffer’ is the right term, but I will certainly have some explaining to do if the Sultan Al’Azam does not see my efforts as worthy of compensation.”
“You are unusually direct today…” She allowed the words to trail off, inviting him to fill the silence as she watched him once more.
He smiled and accepted the invitation: “I suppose it is the battle and my own impatient desire to learn its outcome that makes me so.”
“You were not inclined to take to the battlefield yourself?” she asked, tossing her head to indicate the walls behind them, beyond her tent and, if not out of mind, then at least out of sight.
“Carvalho refused my offer to join him.”
“He did?” She turned her face to him, entirely focused now. “What grounds did he give?”
“He thought it best I was not with him at the guns. I am not known to his crews, and so would have been in the way as they took up positions in the night. Besides, I am not gifted at the artillerist’s art and he assured me he had men enough to handle Dara’s defenses.”
“I think the young wags all agreed the fighting would be over by dawn,” Nur said. They were fools.
“Well, Carvalho was not so sanguine as all that,” Methwold said.
Something clicked into place behind Nur’s eyes. Something she had studiously avoided considering so the back of her mind could unravel it.
She allowed a small frown to edge her lips and spoke while things moved behind her eyes. “He is far wiser than most of Aurangzeb’s umara, then.” A louder explosion rent the air.
“It does not sound as if they were entirely correct, does it?” Methwold’s eyes were on her tent as if trying to peer through it.
“No, I’m afraid not.”
“Shall we go and see for ourselves?” The Englishman’s impatience to see what was happening was apparent.
“Perhaps later. First, though, what is it you want me to do with regard to your situation? Do you want me to ask the Sultan Al’Azam if he is inclined to provide compensation for your services?”
“If it isn’t too much trouble. Or, if you think he might rather hear it directly from me, I could make the request myself.”
“I will see to it he learns you hope for clarification of your position.”
He smiled. “I bow before your greater experience.”
“And the Company?”
“I am sorry?” Methwold asked.
“With the Portuguese firmly against him, it may be useful for the Sultan Al’Azam to retain the Company and its ships as friends.”
The smile grew broader. “My thought precisely.”
She nodded.
“I must tell you how happy I am that you are here, working on behalf of Aurangzeb,” he said.
Nur allowed her own smile to greet his. “It can be hard to avoid coloring your perceptions when events appear to serve your self-interest.”
He shrugged. “There is truth in what you say, but that truth is not the only one. However gifted, the Sultan Al’Azam is young and impressionable. He needs people of experience about him, ready to lend him their wisdom and experience. I have watched you provide sage counsel these last months—”
She spoke over him before the Englishmen could repeat himself. “While I have striven mightily to aid Aurangzeb in his struggles against his brother, I have no wish to hear more praise for my efforts.”
Methwold drew breath to protest.
Nur stopped him with a raised finger. “Oh, I know what and how I have contributed, but the time when I let myself preen in response to such flattery is long past. I will do what you request because I appreciate you as a man of quality as much as I see the benefit in retaining such a relationship with the English Company.”
The Englishman’s skill at hiding his feelings failed him this once, his fair complexion coloring at the compliment.
They sat
