Zal Iniattir
Parsi merchant of Asirgarh
7
There were huge stone statues of elongated heads flanking the gates of the town, most of them quite old, judging by the weathered features. Beyond the gates was a market-square with a well and a pair of temples facing each other across the stalls where vendors were just setting up for business. The sky was an opalescent pink, the morning breeze fresh, and the heat of the day had not yet taken hold.
"Will you need shelter?" Tulsi asked as they approached the gates.
"Yes, but not just at once." He was only marginally uncomfortable, and he knew how much of the sun he could tolerate before his burns returned.
"Then I will find a place for you," she said, "and then I will perform."
"There may be a fee to pay first," he reminded her. "I have a few coins left— not very many, but they should suffice to cover any tax."
"And I will get coins for what I do," said Tulsi proudly. "You need not worry about that. I will buy my own food, too. You need not steal any lambs or kids for me."
"As you wish," he said as they approached the gates. "May your gods show you favor," he called out in the dialect of Delhi to the three stalwarts standing guard behind the gigantic heads. The answer they gave was incomprehensible but for two words:
traveler
and
entry
. Sanat Ji Mani tried again, this time in the language of the Malwa region which this town, lying between Lawah and Chitor, might know.
One of the guards nodded. "May your gods be equally gracious."
Sanat Ji Mani limped forward. "My companion and I have traveled far," he began, only to be interrupted by the guard, who pointed to his ragged appearance and laughed.
"And not well, by the look of you." He spat. "You have no caste-marks. Are you Untouchables, or outcasts?"
"Neither," said Sanat Ji Mani. "We are foreigners, as you can see."
The guard tossed his head once in acknowledgment of this. "What do you want?"
"An opportunity to ply our skills. My companion is a tumbler; she has performed in many places, including before the great Timur-i Lenkh. She is renowned in the north," Sanat Ji Mani said, putting his palms together and bowing to her.
"What are you telling them?" Tulsi asked.
"How accomplished you are," Sanat Ji Mani said, and continued to the guard. "She is willing to perform in your market-place."
"How will she perform?" The guard shook his head. "No, no. We have no need for traveling whores here."
"She is not that," Sanat Ji Mani said sharply. "Let her demonstrate her skills and you will see she is not what you think." He turned to Tulsi, holding out his hand for her pack. "They need to see what you can do; one of those somersault jumps of yours should convince them of your gifts. He does not believe you have the ability I have described."
"Given the state of my clothes, I would not believe me, either," she said before taking a few steps back, running half-a-dozen paces and then launching herself into the air, doing a full forward rotation of her body before landing on her feet. As she rose, she reclaimed her pack once again.
The guards all stared, and the one with whom Sanat Ji Mani had spoken made a gesture of compliance. "Very well. She may perform. But if she does anything beyond that, she will be whipped, and so will you. What is your skill, stranger? Do you do more than live off her?"
Sanat Ji Mani stifled a sigh. "If your priests are willing that I exercise my art, I have with me a few medicaments; I can treat the injured. I have done so for many years." It was no more than the truth: he had begun his healing work three thousand years earlier in the Temple of Imhotep.
"You may have a place near the temple." The guard pointed to the nearer one. "If you do anything false, you will be beaten and your woman taken away from you."
"She is not mine to have her taken from me," said Sanat Ji Mani. "She is my companion, nothing more."
"Yet you let her earn for you." The guard laughed. "No doubt that is only out of her kindness that she does." He glared at the two of them. "I have told you what is permitted, and our terms. If you enter the gates, you accept the terms."
"I understand," said Sanat Ji Mani, and summed up the gist of what the guard had said to Tulsi, adding, "I will pay the fees now; that should make him more inclined to give us the benefit of the doubt." He held out two small gold coins to the guards. "This is for her, and for me. I have my materials in my sack and will administer them for a few coppers."
"A seller of potions, are you?" The guard chuckled. "If any of your medicines do not work, you will be whipped."
"I am willing to take that risk," said Sanat Ji Mani.
"You should use them on yourself," the guard added. "You halt along like a spavined horse."
"What is he saying to you?" Tulsi asked, not liking the guard's tone.
"Nothing very important," Sanat Ji Mani replied. "Ignore him." He added to the guard, "If I had not used my skills, I could not walk at all. As it is, I depend upon her to help me."
"If you think it best, I will, but men of this sort do not like being ignored," she said in response to the part she understood, with an uneasy glance toward the guards.
"I think they may find a reason to separate us, and that would be difficult." Sanat Ji Mani held out his hand to her. "Hold on a moment, to show them we are together."
She laid her hand in his. "Will this make any difference?"
"It may." He turned to the guards. "She is willing to entertain until the mid-day rest, and from late afternoon until sundown. She will not do more than that. The gold should be enough for permission to perform."
"It is ample," said the leader of the guards.
"Then we are satisfied if you are," said Sanat Ji Mani, releasing Tulsi's hand.
"This money will do for today. If you want to continue tomorrow, you will have to pay more." The guard smiled. "You treat her well."
"I treat her as she deserves," said Sanat Ji Mani.
"Do you not command her?" the guard asked.
"No, I do not. I have no right to command her, nor does any man." He took a step forward, favoring his right foot as he did.
"It is a good thing she is the acrobat." The guards laughed among themselves.
"Oh, beyond question. Even if my foot were healed, I could never do the things she can," Sanat Ji Mani said with a genial smile.
"You say you do not command her," the leader remarked.
"I say it because it is true," Sanat Ji Mani declared. "She has been given her liberty because of her talents. No man is to deprive her of what she has been given."
"And who was it who gave it to her?" the guard asked.
"It was Timur-i himself, who conferred her full liberty upon her." It was a daring lie, but one that could not be gainsaid.
The mention of Timur-i caught the attention of the guards. "He has not come here."
"But he might," Sanat Ji Mani pointed out. "And if he does, you do not want it said that you failed to honor his decrees."
"Perhaps not," said the guards, and whispered among themselves. Finally the leader spoke again. "Neither of you will be kept from your performing, but neither of you will be given any unusual favor. You will stay in the market-square like everyone else." He stepped aside and gave his attention to a man leading three heavily laden asses.
"What did you say about Timur-i?" Tulsi asked as they went through the gates.
"That he freed you," said Sanat Ji Mani. "I thought it would allow us the chance to work here without having all our money taken."
"How much did you pay?" she asked.
"Two gold pieces," he said. They stared about the market-square where stalls were being erected. "I think there will be a place for you at the end of that row."
She followed where he pointed. "Yes. There is room enough." She turned back. "What about you?"
"I will sit in the shadow of one temple for the morning and ask if I might move to the other for the afternoon." He touched her hand. "During the mid-day rest, stay by me."
She nodded. "I have no desire to try to find a safe place on my own." Her voice dropped. "I may be ready by then."
He shook his head. "Not yet, Tulsi, and not here. You need not be concerned for me; I have weathered worse than this."
"On the road to Baghdad. Yes; you told me." She looked away, toward the market-square.
"And the Roman arena. It was tolerable only for its brevity." He rubbed his chin, recalling other places that had tested the limits of his strength. "At least I can do something to earn a little money, something useful; I still have enough medicaments left to treat most minor conditions. If someone is seriously ill, I doubt I can do them much good."
"Then select your patients with care, and stay where I can see you," she recommended; she handed him her pack and started away along the aisle between the market-stalls.
"That I will," he said, resigning himself to a day of lancing boils and treating rashes. He stayed in the shadows as much as he could as he went along to the temple on the eastern side of the market-square: it was a wide building, fronted with shallow stairs leading up to an elaborate colonnade that served as the formal entrance to the holy building. Statues of gods, some of whom Sanat Ji Mani did not recognize, stared down at the market-square from large niches, their feet covered in offerings of fruit and flowers. He chose a place at the end of the colonnade and sank down on the steps, setting out a row of vials at his feet. From here he could watch Tulsi perform while he dealt with anyone wanting his help.
At the open space, Tulsi began to tumble, working out how much room she would have and how she would use it. Her first cartwheels— two on the ground and one in the air— attracted the attention of a spice merchant who had just finished setting out his wares in his stall. She did a back-flip and grinned automatically as he tossed a copper coin to her. She picked it up and slipped it into the pouch sewn into her sash, then sank into the splits as a kind of bow. It was a promising beginning, she told herself as she glanced at Sanat Ji Mani.
The morning passed quickly enough; the market-square was busy, and the day was hot. Tulsi performed frequently and ended up with a good amount of coins for her trouble; Sanat Ji Mani was less busy, but by mid-day he had a handful of copper coins to show for his work. As the sun glowed like a forge overhead, the market shut down; ven
dors and buyers alike went to rest out of the stultifying heat.
"I am going to buy something to eat," Tulsi called out to Sanat Ji Mani as the vendors lowered their awnings for the heat of the day. "Do you want anything?"
"I leave that to you," said Sanat Ji Mani, putting his vials back in his sack, slinging it over his shoulder, grabbing Tulsi's pack, and standing up slowly; his foot was aching and the sun had sapped his stamina to a point where he only wanted shelter and rest. He leaned against the nearest column and watched Tulsi purchase two skewers of goat-meat cooked with cumin and ginger, and a large round of flat-bread filled with onions, nuts, and raisins.
She came up to him with her meal in her hands, making her fingers shine with oil. "I had a good morning," she announced.
"I saw you were watched eagerly." He smiled at her. "Even the guards came to watch you."
"They did," she said, taking a bite of the bread. "This is very good," she said through her chewing.
"It has a wonderful aroma," he agreed, and added, as he saw her startled expression. "Just because I do not eat does not mean I do not know the value of good food."
"You will always surprise me," she said, and squinted up at the sky. "Where shall we rest?"
"There is an alley-way just on the side of this temple. I think it will remain in shadow all day." He held out his hand to indicate the way, and was pleased when she took hold of it. "Come, Tulsi. We both need time to rest."
"That we do," she agreed, her greasy fingers slipping through his.
"Then let us find a place," he said, and bowed to her Roman fashion.
"You have some very strange ways, Sanat Ji Mani," she told him as she followed him into the deepest shadows beside the temple, nibbling at her meal as she went. "I did not like the manner in which the guard looked at me," she said quietly; the stones took up her whisper and repeated it.
"How do you mean?" he asked, looking about for a place they would be hidden and comfortable at once.
"He raked me with his eyes. Some men look at women that way, as if to take off all their clothes and their skin, too." She paused at the edge of an old niche, now standing empty. "This might do."
"It might," he agreed, and stepped into it to look around. "I do not think it will be too unpleasant."
