I know who you are
, which he had not been able to figure out until this moment. "How could you imagine I am Timur-i? That is what you believe, is it?"
"Of course. You need not deny who you are. I know you." Now that he had divulged his conviction, Hasin Dahele became less pugnacious. "I knew before you came that you would be here."
"But I am not Timur-i; I have never claimed to be," said Sanat Ji Mani, trying to keep his emotions in check. He spoke carefully, levelly. "How could I be? Timur-i is sixty-four, and he stains his hair with walnut juice. I am nothing like him. I am from the West, from mountains called the Carpathians. I lived in Delhi for a number of years, in the Foreigners' Quarter, and was taken prisoner by Timur-i when he sacked the city, as many others were. That is how I came to travel with his army; it was not any choice of mine." He spoke calmly, patiently, as if to a recalcitrant child. "Timur-i is a Turkish-Mongol. I am from other blood."
"You limp," said Hasin Dahele as if that settled the matter.
"I had a staple put through my foot to ensure I would not escape," said Sanat Ji Mani.
"Which you have conveniently lost," said Hasin Dahele. "I know those staples. How could you remove it?"
Sanat Ji Mani thought, trying to provide an answer. "It was done after Tulsi and I were separated from Timur-i's army."
"How? What smith pulled it out?" Hasin Dahele shook his head. "Enough mendacity."
"I do not lie. I am not Timur-i," said Sanat Ji Mani, realizing as he spoke that all protests were useless.
"It is to be expected that you will not want others to know who you are," said Hasin Dahele at his most reasonable. "I knew you would deny the truth; you must do so until you are satisfied that I am capable of succeeding you in conquering the world. I am willing to wait for your countenance. You need to be—"
Sanat Ji Mani dared to interrupt him. "I am not Timur-i. Believe this: in the West, I am called Franczesco Ragoczy of Saint-Germain. I have no army to command, and no empire. My country, from which I am exiled, is in Hungarian, Polish, and Wallachian hands, with the Ottomans of Turkey struggling to gain a foot-hold there."
"You must have a tale to tell, so that you can continue to refuse to acknowledge who you are," said Hasin Dahele. "I cannot force you to admit me to your confidences, not yet. And I will keep your secret."
"This
is
my confidence. I have no secret." Sanat Ji Mani's compelling dark eyes rested on the Rajput. "I am telling you the truth."
"I will show you that I deserve your heritage, and you will own me your heir," said Hasin Dahele, ignoring what Sanat Ji Mani had told him.
"
Look
at me," Sanat Ji Mani commanded, and the Rajput looked. "I am not a Turkish-Mongol. My people, some of them, have been called Etruscans," he said, not adding that they were the descendants of his Carpathian-dwelling tribes who had fled westward into Italy many, many centuries ago.
"You are a foreigner with dark hair and eyes, of middle years, and you limp on your right foot. You have come here, walking the roads and guided by your servant." Hasin Dahele smiled. "You will tell me, in time."
"I have told you," Sanat Ji Mani reiterated. "I am not Timur-i. He has gone back to Samarkand."
"Everyone knows that is not so; it is known throughout the world that Timur-i is an exile from his own army," said Hasin Dahele, a bit condescendingly. "He— I will say he rather than you— was overthrown by his jealous officers and left, abandoned, on the road with only one servant to care for him. He has suffered much, and it has taken a toll upon him. His eyes are failing, and so he cannot go abroad in the daylight without someone to lead him, and his skin burns. Of course he would deny who he is so that he would not become a captive, held hostage for his enemies." He favored Sanat Ji Mani with a serene smile. "Vayu Ede foretold your coming. I had only to set my men to look for you."
"And they found the wrong man," said Sanat Ji Mani. "I am not Timur-i. How many times must I say it?"
"Until you admit it is so, I suppose," said Hasin Dahele. "If you must continue this way, so be it. I will do all that I must to gain your support and acknowledgment."
"It will mean nothing," said Sanat Ji Mani.
Hasin Dahele laughed. "Do as you must. I will continue to plan my campaign, and you will see, when I am done, that I am a worthy successor and that I deserve to inherit your empire and all the world."
"I have no empire," Sanat Ji Mani said, knowing it was futile.
"No, not at present; I understand that. I shall help you to reclaim it," said Hasin Dahele, smiling confidently as he smoothed the surface of the map. "Then you will be pleased to name me your son."
"I want no war waged in my name," said Sanat Ji Mani, trying to find some means of turning the Rajput from his disastrous course.
"Of course not. That would reveal too much, and your army would come against me before I am ready," said Hasin Dahele. "I am going to push back our frontiers and then claim the west coast, and from there I will strike north. And you will come with me."
"And Tulsi?" Sanat Ji Mani dared to ask.
Hasin Dahele considered his answer. "I may permit her to accompany you, if you will give me the benefit of your advice." He stood still, his brows raised in speculation.
"I have little useful advice to give," Sanat Ji Mani said. "But if you want my opinions, you are welcome to them, so long as Tulsi is safe."
"And you believe she would be safer with you than staying here in the palace?" The Rajput shook his head. "If you want her to be protected, this is a better place than on campaign."
"Not for her. Someone has already tried to harm her." He said this bluntly, taking a chance that the attempt to poison Tulsi did not originate with the Rajput."
"What do you mean?" Hasin Dahele asked suspiciously. "Harm her in what way?"
"Someone attempted to poison her," said Sanat Ji Mani bluntly. "Fortunately she survived."
The Rajput's face darkened. "And I was told nothing of this? Why?"
Sanat Ji Mani took a moment to frame his answer. "If others in this palace believe as you do— that I am Timur-i— although I am not— one of your servants may have wanted to keep you from making common cause with me, and so tried to harm my companion as a way of protecting you."
"Or there might have been someone who is a spy for my enemies who sought to put us at odds, someone set to lurk in the palace and ruin the trust between us," said Hasin Dahele promptly. "That is much more likely." He put the tips of his fingers together. "Since I will have you with me, I will comply with your request and allow the woman to come with you. It will not be liked by many of my officers, but I will not have you distracted by concerns about her, as you might be if you are separated." He grinned suddenly. "So it is settled. You will campaign with me and I will make sure your companion remains with you. I will want to set out soon, for the rains will come and I must consolidate my gains before they arrive."
"It will be difficult to campaign at mid-summer," Sanat Ji Mani warned. "In this part of the world, the weather will work against you. The heat will make for hardships for men and animals alike."
"So it might. All the more reason to be away within a week." His eyes glittered with enthusiasm. "It will be a fine campaign. You will see."
Sanat Ji Mani could muster no exuberance at the prospect of war. "It will cost men and lives, animals, supplies and good-will. You will
need to have barrels of water among your other supplies, or your men will not be able to fight."
"You have lost your zest from months on the road," said Hasin Dahele. "You will regain it once we have triumphed."
"And if you do not triumph, what then?" Sanat Ji Mani asked.
"You will withhold your sanction, and never acknowledge me," said Hasin Dahele in a tone that suggested that this was impossible. "But when I am victorious, you will declare me your rightful heir and Lord of all your Empire, and all lands that I shall add to that Empire."
Sanat Ji Mani shook his head. "I cannot do that," he said somberly. "I am not who you think I am, and anything I say in the name of Timur-i would be a lie."
"So you have told me already," said Hasin Dahele with a great show of forbearance. "I am willing to wait until I have shown that I am worthy to receive your—"
"It is not a question of worth," Sanat Ji Mani interrupted. "It is a question of misconstrued belief. You have put your faith in the visions of Vayu Ede, and in this instance, he has led you to error. It may be that he has gifts that reveal other matters of importance, but in this instance, he has stumbled."
"I know why you will not admit what we both know is true. Very well, I will abide by your reservations and I will not press you for any more commitment than what you have given. After we cross Narmanda, you will see that your Empire can be expanded and that I am the man who will be able to do it. My Gods have shown their favor by bringing you to me, and I will show my appreciation by enduring your demands. I should not be astonished that you would require more than my pledge to attain your grant of synodite." Hasin Dahele took a step back from Sanat Ji Mani. "I will convince you. That I vow, before all the Gods Whose influence has brought us to this place."
"What if you do not conquer the world?" Sanat Ji Mani proposed as if discussing birds or monkeys. "What then?"
"I cannot fail. The Gods have mandated my success," said Hasin Dahele. "As they mandated yours."
Sanat Ji Mani let the last go unaddressed. "But suppose men, not gods, should fail you: what will you do?"
"Oh, I will have the soldiers who could not do my bidding cut to pieces by those who obeyed, and their bones scattered to the corners of the earth," said Hasin Dahele with the nonchalance of one who has already decided.
"You will do the enemy's work for them," said Sanat Ji Mani.
"I will do the Gods' work," Hasin Dahele corrected him. "If you fail me as well, in triumph, I will have you scraped to death." He paused. "Do you know how it is done? The condemned is wrapped tightly in a net and everything that protrudes beyond the netting is scraped away with knives; the netting is tightened again, and the scraping is done again, and so on until there is nothing but bones, and then, what is left is dismembered."
Sanat Ji Mani listened to this in aghast silence; it would be an agonizing death, for only the destruction or severing of his spine would bring the True Death. "Why would you do this?
"I would do it if you fail to recognize me as your heir," said the Rajput with great purpose.
"To what purpose: I am not Timur-i," Sanat Ji Mani said with meticulous pronunciation.
"You will continue to say so yet a while; it is no more than what I expect," said Hasin Dahele. "I have said I will not object to it, for now."
"It will not change with time. I will not be anyone other than Sanat Ji Mani, now or in the future," he said. "You are too set on this tale you have accepted to comprehend that you are mistaken— Vayu Ede is mistaken."
"Call yourself what you will, I am going to reclaim and enlarge your Empire and you will one day own me as your heir." Hasin Dahele gestured his determination. "I have extended my generosity to your companion, to show that I am sincere in my goals. You will have to wait for the brunt of my campaign to see that I have the ability to do what I am sworn— and destined— to do. Neither you nor my soldiers can stop me from gaining what is mine."
"I am sure Tulsi and I are grateful," said Sanat Ji Mani, appalled by the Rajput's ferocity, and frustrated by his stubborn adherence to his conviction that Sanat Ji Mani was Timur-i.
"You are not now, but you will be, in time," said Hasin Dahele. "It may be best that you know now that I am conscious of you and your past. It will make things easier between us." He smiled with genuine pleasure. "You may want to go to your companion and tell her to prepare for travel. She will want to know that she is to ride with you."
"I probably should tell her to make ready," said Sanat Ji Mani with a slight emphasis on
should
, trying to imagine what Tulsi would say when she learned of the Rajput's beliefs.
"And assure her that if any more harm should come to her, I will punish the miscreant severely— also any spies that may be in the household." The Rajput grinned in anticipation. "Do not fret, Sanat Ji Mani, I will earn your high regard yet."
"There is no reason to," Sanat Ji Mani said fervently as he put his hands together and bowed.
"So you say, so you say." He waved Sanat Ji Mani away. "Well, go tell her that she is to go with us; give my servants a list of what you will require for campaign and it will be tended to. I will speak with you tomorrow evening." With that, he went back to studying his map.
Sanat Ji Mani left the reception room and hurried along the corridors to the apartment assigned to him and Tulsi. Every step of the way, he reviewed all that had transpired since they arrived in Devapur, and how puzzling it had been. Now that he understood the preposterous notion the Rajput had regarding him, Sanat Ji Mani realized that he had seriously underestimated their vulnerability. With such expectations of Sanat Ji Mani, there was no doubt that Hasin Dahele would demand his participation in his war, and would not be willing to accept anything less. He was frowning when he entered their room and discovered Tulsi in the middle of her evening exercises.
