"I realize that we may have guessed incorrectly, but we know the Rajput is planning something, and this makes as much sense as anything we might expect, given what we know. He must have a campaign in mind, that much is obvious." She stopped still and pointed at him. "You have suspected this from the first, have you not?"
"Not this specifically, no," said Sanat Ji Mani. "I am still not convinced of it." He could see she did not entirely believe him, so he went on, ticking off his points on his fingers. "We know he is preparing for war: he admits as much. We know he is interested in where we have been: we have been repeatedly questioned about our travels. We know he does not want us to leave: we are guarded at all times. We know someone in this palace wants one or both of us dead: there has been an attempt on your life. We know that the Rajput is eager to learn about Timur-i: his poet and he have asked many questions about him. Therefore we assume we are hostages, or that we have some other strategic role in the Rajput's plans. The rest is conjecture, and, tempting though it is to tell ourselves that we have hit upon the truth, we must not succumb to the mistake of confusing our suspicions with what we know."
Tulsi shook her head. "We must know more than that."
"What?" he asked, his manner mildly inquisitive. "We suspect we are watched, but have you ever caught anyone watching us?"
"No," she admitted.
"Then it is only a supposition." He let her deliberate his remark, then said, "We suspect that Hasin Dahele plans to go north when he begins his campaign, but has he ever said that is his intention?"
"No," she said.
"For all we know, he has detained travelers who have come from other places and given them the same hospitality he has shown us, and for a similar purpose, but we are supposing what that purpose is." Sanat Ji Mani rose. "No one has ever mentioned that, have they. No."
Tulsi thrust out her jaw. "Why should they?"
"Why, indeed," he countered. "You have worked out a very plausible explanation of what has been happening," he went on, only to be interrupted.
"But it may not be accurate," she said for him. "Very well; I will accept that. But I do not like the uncertainty that leaves."
"Nor do I, Tulsi; nor do I," said Sanat Ji Mani. "I wish we had someone— someone reliable— who could tell us more, but we do not."
"Do you think that is part of the plan?" Tulsi asked, coming back to him.
"It may be; it seems unlikely that it would be wholly accidental that we have been kept away from most of the people of the palace; and, of course, it is advantageous to Hasin Dahele to keep us guessing." He went to the window. "I am going to find out about the stables tomorrow night, when I look at the marshaling court."
"So you still think we should steal horses?" She sounded startled by this. "Should we not wait until we know more?"
Sanat Ji Mani answered her in a sardonic tone. "We know enough to realize it would be wisest to flee."
"I suppose we do," said Tulsi. "Is it possible, do you think? Can we escape?"
"At least I should explore; if it is too dangerous to attempt, I will find that out." He shook his head slowly. "In any case, we should be prepared to depart quickly if the opportunity is presented."
"All right. I will ready my pack." She grinned in anticipation.
"You might as well announce it to the world that we are planning to go," Sanat Ji Mani said as gently as he could. "Do nothing that is different from what you have been doing. Just lay by a few things— nothing obvious— and make sure you can gather all of them in a sack you can conceal under your clothes."
Tulsi tossed her head. "What about my pack?"
"Leave it where it is. And when we go, it must stay behind." He glanced around the room. "Have you picked up any more of the local tongue?"
"Yes," she said proudly, and was about to demonstrate when he held up his hand to silence her.
"Do not let them know. Right now, it is your only advantage, and it is a small one, at that. They know I can speak their language; let them continue to presume you do not. That may make them more unguarded in your presence, and they may let something slip that will be useful to us, later." The ploy had proved useful several times in the past and he did not underestimate its value.
Tulsi appeared to be disappointed by his stricture, but nodded her understanding. "No doubt you are right," she said reluctantly. "Timur-i sometimes used this trick, I know."
"Do not confuse Hasin Dahele with Timur-i," Sanat Ji Mani recommended. "They are very different men."
Tulsi was about to protest, then fell silent. At last she sighed. "I suppose Hasin Dahele will use war-elephants to fight."
"Very likely," said Sanat Ji Mani. "You have heard them trumpeting from the compound just outside the city walls. I cannot believe all of them are used for logging."
"They may be," said Tulsi, herself unconvinced. "There is a great deal of logging done around Devapur. Most of Rajput Hasin Dahele's wealth comes from wood."
"Yes; you are correct. The elephants could be part of the logging; they may be nothing more than that. But it does not seem likely. He has too many soldiers with the elephants." He stared out into the night. "If there are more horses than stalls in the stable, that will tell me something, too."
"Do you think they will let you into the stable? If the Rajput is planning war, he may want to keep all his preparations hidden." She came to stand beside him.
"I am sorry to have gotten you into all this," Sanat Ji Mani said when they had been quiet for a little while.
"I came of my own accord," she reminded him.
"You could have gone with Djerat and returned to Timur-i's army," he reminded her, laying his hand on her shoulder.
"And go back to following the soldiers? Thank you, no." She folded her arms as if against a sudden chill.
"You would not have been poisoned," he pointed out.
"That may be. But who knows what else might have happened to me?" She did not expect an answer and was offered none.
Sanat Ji Mani turned to her and kissed the arch of her brow. "That is very kind of you."
She shook her head. "I am not kind," she said, with the hint of a stammer in her words. A moment later she broke away from him. "I could practice in the marshaling yard in the morning. That way I can have a look at the stables from the outside without making it seem I am doing so. These soldiers will want to watch me, and they will not notice what I watch." She swung around toward him. "Thus far you have taken most of the risks, and I do not desire you to continue to be the only one."
Concealing his surprise, Sanat Ji Mani said, "After what you have been through, I would have thought that you have risked more than enough. You do not have to expose yourself in this way."
"I want to," she said more emphatically. "It is appropriate that I do as much as you have done. I know how to estimate an army's preparedness; I have seen it all my life. I may not know as much about the showy horses they have in the stables here, but I know the points to look for."
"There is no question you do," said Sanat Ji Mani.
"Then let me go to the marshaling yard. You will attract suspicion, going there without cause. But if I go, practice my tumbling and my acrobatics, and, while I am resting between movements, praise their horses, you may come later in the day and ask to see them. They may let you into the stables, especially if I can choose one horse to admire above all others, and you can then ask to see the horse I have spoken so well of. Seeing this one horse, you may be able to see much more, just by being in the stables. I know something of campaigning, but not as much as I reckon you do." She took hold of his arm suddenly, her fingers gripping; she looked directly into his dark eyes, pleading. "You have been taking all the risks, and I cannot accept that, not if I am to leave with you. I have been lying here for days, thinking there is nothing I can do. But there is, there is."
"It is a very clever idea," he conceded, still reluctant to let her undertake anything so hazardous.
"I think so, too," she said mischievously. "As to performing, it is time I did a proper display. I do need the practice; I have not had enough room to do a full routine anywhere but the garden." She leaned against him easily. "It will be good for me to entertain again, as well as look about me, too."
"What if you are not allowed to do it? You will be in full daylight, and I will not be able to help you." He was chagrined by this admission. "You will have to deal with the situation on your own."
"I have done so most of my life," she said, and was aware that her circumstances had been different, for with Timur-i's army, there was a whole community of entertainers, and they provided a kind of protection she could not have here.
"I am not pleased with you taking such chances," Sanat Ji Mani told her. "But I have to acknowledge the advantages of your plan, and however averse I am to this risk you want to take, I have nothing as likely to succeed to offer in its place."
"Then I shall do it," she said, finally sounding calm. "I will hold their attention while I study everything I see. Some of my tumbling may take me directly to the door of the stables." She smiled impishly. "I can pretend to slip, and perhaps get inside."
"Do not take on so much," Sanat Ji Mani warned. "If you try too much, they may become leery, and that could work against you. Find out as much as you can in as ordinary a way as you can, and from that, we can begin to make our plans."
Instead of bowing, Tulsi bent backwards and then slowly lifted her legs into a handstand. "Watch, Sanat Ji Mani," she said. "I will discover everything we need." She began to walk away from him, lowering her feet to rest on her head.
"I hope you may," said Sanat Ji Mani, frowning slightly.
Although she saw his face upside down and by moonlight, she knew enough about him to be aware that he was worried. She righted herself. "What is it?"
He shook his head as if to dismiss pesky quibbles. "We are assuming our guesses are correct. What if we have misread the whole sit
uation? There may be some other explanation for the way we have been treated that we have not anticipated."
"And what might that be?" she asked, growing more sure of herself and her mission with every breath.
"I cannot tell." He rubbed his eyes. "That is what troubles me."
Tulsi chuckled. "You may be right, and there is something insidious that we do not know about," she said. "But given what we have learned, we must act upon it, or remain inert and vulnerable. I would rather be wrong in action than in passivity."
"And I," he said. "But to be precipitous would be folly."
She came up to him. "Tomorrow night we will both know more, and we can decide then if anything we have done has been too heedless. Until then, I want to rest; it is going to be a demanding day tomorrow."
Sanat Ji Mani embraced her and gave her shoulders a reassuring shake before sitting down beside her on the bed while she stretched out to resume her interrupted slumber; he felt great pride in her, and with it, great compassion. He hoped that their decision would not put her in greater danger than they were in now, yet, even as he was cognizant of it, he understood that his hope was in vain.
* * *
Text of a report compiled from merchants and presented to Rajput Hasin Dahele.
* * *
To the most excellent, the most exalted, the most esteemed, the Rajput Hasin Dahele, the greetings and protestations of loyalty and dedication to your cause from the merchants Chandra Chauris, Riti Natadasa, Kautilya Jati, and Ghangal Sunpavar, all respected men of good repute who seek to aid you in your expansions of your frontiers.
Know, O Rajput, that in our travels, we have seen that there is much disorder in the lands beyond those you rule, and that disorder cries out for rectification, so that dharma may be restored to all those who live in these abandoned places. For that reason, we are preparing to reveal to you all we have seen, in the hope that it will aid you in your quest to bring regularity out of disruption, as has been shown to please the Gods; for those who give themselves to destruction surely
bring it upon themselves, and many pay the price for the actions of a few.
Thus Riti Natadasa reports that on his journey over the mountains to the west, he saw that there is upheaval still spreading from Gujerat, where there is still much upheaval and unsettledness among the people, so that some are forced to flee for fear of losing their lives. He says that most of these people are poor and now have less than before; he has seen many begging, and others dead of starvation and misery. So if it is the Rajput's desire to improve the lot of his people, he would do well to go elsewhere for them, as he cannot hope to improve the lives of so many unfortunates. Also, because of this increase in persons wandering the roads, many travelers are set upon by those made desperate, and they are robbed, some of them even killed. An army might not have much to fear from such creatures, but they might prove inconvenient for the army, not only as thieves, but as unreliable scouts or untrustworthy servants. Riti Natadasa has said he will not be going west for many more months, for he has no wish to encounter any more desperate men.
