The Moghul, page 53
_"Here in the garden the sunshine glows,
A Presence moves in all that grows.
He is the lover, the belov'd too.
He is the bramble and the rose.
We know Him when our hearts are moved;
He, our lover and our loved.
Open your eyes with joy and see
The hundred ways His love is proved."
_
"I've seen his poetry. It sings of the love of some God, although hisGod sounds a bit too benign to be Allah. But I also know his Rubaiyatwill not save him. It may make him immortal someday, but he'll be longsince dead by then."
Arangbar rose unsteadily and moved beside her, staring out onto theglinting surface of the Jamuna. For a moment he watched a fleet ofbarges pass, piled high with dark bundles of indigo. "I believe Imyself will die someday soon. I can almost feel my strength ebbing. ButI hope I'll be remembered as my father Akman is, a ruler who toleratedall faiths. I've protected Hindus from the bigoted followers ofMohammed's religion, who would convert them forcibly to Islam, and I'veallowed all religions to build places of worship. Did you know I'veeven built a church for the Portuguese Jesuits, who have to buy most oftheir converts with bribes? I even gave them a stipend, since theywould starve otherwise. They tell me they're astonished I allow so muchreligious freedom here, since it's unheard of in Europe. But I can doall this only if I remain the nominal defender of Islam. Islam holdsthe power in India, and as India's ruler I must acknowledge that. I candefy the mullahs myself now and then. But I can't permit your Sufimystic to do it too. There's a limit."
"You can do anything. If you wish. The orthodox mullahs have alwayshated mystics. The Shi'ite mullahs are men who live on hate. You see itburning in their eyes. They even hate their own women, can't you see?They keep them prisoner, claiming that's the way they honor and respectthem. The mullahs even resent that Samad allows me to come into hispresence without a veil."
"They say he's a poison in Islam."
"Yes, his example is poison. His poetry is filled with love. Themullahs cannot bear it, since their own lives are filled with hate. Godhelp India if it ever becomes an 'Islamic' state. There'll be mobs inthe streets murdering Hindus in the name of 'God.' Is that thetranquility you want?"
"I want to die in peace. Just like your poet. And I want to beremembered, for the good I've done for India." Arangbar paused, seemingto search on the stone ledge for his cup. "I think Samad will beremembered too. Tomorrow I'll make him famous. Let him live on throughhis words. He knows, and I know, that he must die. We understand eachother perfectly. I can't disappoint him now."
Arangbar suddenly recalled the high-ranking Rajput raja who had askedfor an early audience in the _Diwan-i-Khas_, and he turned and movedunsteadily toward the door. When he reached it, he revolved and lookedback sadly at Shirin.
"I found myself dreaming about you this afternoon. I don't know why. SoI decided to come and see you, alone. I didn't come to talk aboutSamad. It's you I'm uncertain about. Her Majesty wants you hanged. ButI cannot yet find the courage to sentence you." Arangbar continued onwearily toward the door. "Where will it all end?" He paused and, asthough remembering something, turned again. "Jadar is plottingsomething against me, I sense it. But I don't know what he can do.Recently I've heard rumors you're part of it. Have you turned againstme?"
"If you kill Samad, I will defy you with every power I have."
"Then perhaps I should execute you." He stared at her, trying to focus."But you have no powers left. Unless you're plotting something with theInglish. If you are, then I will kill you both." He turned to leave,tightening his cloak against the chill. The guards saw him emerge andhurried from the far end of the corridor. Arangbar watched them for amoment, then turned and looked one last time at Shirin. "Samad will dietomorrow. You will have to wait."
