A disbelieving look crossed Nadira’s face.
“You do not believe it?”
“It is not so much that I don’t believe it entirely, but that I wonder how they have so much to give,” Nadira qualified. “I’m sure Portuguese Goa has its share of productive farmland, but it’s hardly the Punjab.”
“When you treat the people like slaves, and keep many actual slaves, it is not so great a sacrifice to short your own populace for the purpose of supplying your warriors,” Monique opined.
Jahanara looked at her.
The ferenghi winced, leading Jahanara to suspect Nadira had given Monique’s hair a little extra tug to still her tongue as much as keep her from moving.
“Still, the passes through the Western Ghats must be full of oxen day and night to keep the army fed,” Jahanara said as she digested what the pretty young ferenghi had said and, more importantly, Nadira’s reaction. Most of the Mission had, at one time or another, and to various degrees, expressed a similar distaste for slavery. It was an odd distaste to have, let alone speak of openly. The Quran and most every other religious text she had read documented how, under certain circumstances, the practice was acceptable, sometimes even required for the betterment of all mankind.
Why should the Mission people feel that way when at least the slavery practiced in Mughal lands allowed for a slave to convert and then become free, something the indigenous caste system never countenanced. Born into a caste, one never left it, not in this life, anyway. Jahanara suspected Monique and the other down-timers of the Mission had their opinions heavily influenced by the up-timers, who claimed slavery was universally reviled in their time, and outlawed by every nation.
That it was not so—indeed that she had heard of no nation where it was a crime to keep slaves—in the here and now was a simple, unassailable fact of life.
If it were even rumored that Dara contemplated abolishing slavery, he would be removed from power in an instant, and not by his current enemies, but by a general uprising of every class and caste but the slaves.
But do I have to silence her on this point?
No, such oblique mentions can be ignored. Censuring her for it would only draw attention to their alien opinions, and possibly alienate them when we have need of them.
Besides, I would hate to stop Monique speaking her mind. Just a few years older than Jahanara, Monique was worldly in a way no inmate of the harem could ever be, and she was a storyteller of rare skill and humor.
Realizing she’d been silent for too long, Jahanara picked up the thread of the conversation and moved it elsewhere. “I am equally concerned that we only learned of this now, a month and more after this strange alliance started. We do not have enough friendly people in either camp, and fewer still that are willing to pass us information now that Aurangzeb and Shuja joined forces.”
“I would think that the friction between them would make people more willing to inform than less?” Monique said.
“Normally, perhaps. But both enemy camps were already fairly firm in their opinion that Dara would be defeated by the prince they chose, and now they have twice the men and their supply situation is no worse than it was before. Some of those who were willing to report goings-on went silent when that happened, and more since.”
“Do you think they are actively rooting out spies?”
“Of course.”
Monique looked worried, and Jahanara quickly explained, “I am not speaking of what might be termed ‘professional spies,’ only those umara too powerful to accuse as such. Men—and women—who merely write letters to their ‘friends and relations’ in other camps, keeping in touch so as to hedge their bets in case of sudden misfortune befalling their chosen prince. They are the ones who have stopped writing Dara or his supporters, for the most part.”
Tight, heavy braid complete and free of Nadira’s grasp, Monique shook her head.
“What is it, Monique?”
“The way some things are handled here seem so reasonable, and yet there are so many things that are unreasonable, and wrong, in my view.”
Wary lest Monique say more on the subject of slavery, Jahanara decided to move to a subject that would require Monique to explain the ways of European rulers rather than continue to critique those of India. “I have heard the courts of Europe are terribly quick to cry treason and execute anyone on the losing side of a dynastic war.”
Thankfully, Monique took the bait, and the conversation veered away from anything to do with slavery. Soon, Jahanara had forgotten her earlier funk. Soon after that, what part of her mind not engaged in the conversation started to work over the failure of her sources to obtain even basic intelligence and, in light of those failures, began to adjust her plans to overcome the many challenges facing Dara’s rule.
Chapter 19
Agra
Jasmine Court, Red Fort
Business of the day done, Jahanara shifted position in a fruitless effort to find a cool spot among the cushions. The heat of the afternoon was only made bearable by a combination of deep shade, cool fruits, and the constant effort of several slaves sweating to power overhead fans.
She cast a look at her brother, considering.
He hardly sweated, of course. He’d always been better in the heat than she, and his use of opium seemed to keep him cool, as well. Normally, the court would have retired to Kashmir to enjoy the cool air and royal gardens of that highlands region, but leaving Agra with their brothers in rebellion was impossible, so they made themselves as comfortable as possible and kept to the gardens and the shade as much as they could.
“I would ask
