A Feast In Exile

"Have you had any news yet?" Rustam Iniattir faced Rogerian, his large hands caught together; outside, Alexandria was being battered by a spring squall, rain coming in sporadic bursts, carried on capricious winds and accompanied by rambunctious seas.

"Come in, Rustam Iniattir, in the name of my master," said Rogerian, bowing in the Roman style. "No, I have heard nothing; I would send you word of it if I had."

"I had hoped you might have had some news by now," said Rustam Iniattir as he shrugged off his cloak and held it out to Rogerian. His demeanor revealed his worry more than his words did. "Is there nothing?"

"Not yet." Rogerian took the cloak and hung it on a broad-headed hook near the door.

"I have been away from Fustat for a number of weeks," said Rustam Iniattir, allowing Rogerian to escort him into the house. "I had hoped that you might have learned something, and that your news had missed me." He paused on the threshold of the reception room, his eyes widening at the richness of the chamber; he stared at the opulence around him. "Sanat Ji Mani is a most ... wealthy man," he said, breathing deeply at the sight of fine woods, silks and velvets, brass lamps, and Italian paintings.

"That he is. You saw his house in Delhi," Rogerian said, noticing how impressed Rustam Iniattir was.

"That I did, and I supposed that he had settled all his wealth there, and maintained less opulent establishments elsewhere; I see I did not grasp the extent of his wealth. This is beyond anything I ... How can he maintain such luxury, in more than one house? He would have to have vast resources." He had lowered his voice and finally said, "I assumed he made a display in Delhi, to impress the foreigners who lived in the Street of Brass Lanterns and the Sultan's deputies. I am sorry that I did not appreciate the extent of his riches earlier. This is astonishing." He shook his head in continuing disbelief. "I had no idea."

"Why is that?" Rogerian asked, leading him into the reception room. "My master never made a secret of his wealth."

"No, he did not," said Rustam Iniattir. "I thought his generosity bordered on spendthrift, but I realize now that was not the case."

"He told you he could afford to do the things he did," Rogerian pointed out.

"Yes, he did. It was my doubt that made me question his wherewithal. I would have advised him to trade more extensively if I had known he had such a fortune to draw upon," Rustam Iniattir admitted.

"Not that his wealth can help him now," said Rogerian, motioning Rustam Iniattir toward a divan covered in Antioch damask. "If you will sit down, I will have refreshments brought to you."

The Parsi merchant complied, still staring at the finery he saw. "Is the rest of the house as grand?"

"Would you like to see for yourself?" Rogerian offered. "I will be delighted to show you all but my master's private apartments." He did not add that these contained not only Sanat Ji Mani's austere bedchamber but his alchemical laboratory as well.

"That would be most kind of you," said Rustam Iniattir, relaxing on the divan. "I would enjoy seeing the house if it is all this wonderful."

"After you have had some refreshment, then, it will be my pleasure to show it to you." Rogerian inclined his head courteously. "Would figs and yoghurt be acceptable to you, or do you want something more? Would you want a substantial meal? I offer it in the name of my master, who would expect nothing less of me."

"A little bread in addition to figs and yoghurt would be much appreciated." He leaned back on the bolster of the divan and all but purred. "I thought that what Sanat Ji Mani had in Delhi was grand, but I see I was mistaken."

"My master has done well in his travels, at least he has in general. Whatever has befallen him now is not what has been usual for him." He thought back to Cyprus, Spain, Saxony, Poland, and China, recalling the hardships Sanat Ji Mani had endured in those places. As he spoke, he went to the side-door and summoned an under-steward, to whom he gave orders for food, then turned back to address Rustam Iniattir. "How is it that you have come to Alexandria? Your last letter said you were going to Al Myah Suways."

"I did go there, and I purchased two ships, a thing I could not have done without the good-will of those shipbuilders who have long been patronized by your master. I see now how he was able to assemble the fleet of ships he owns. I was unaware that he had eleven of them in the Arabian Sea and the Bay of Bengal. Eleven. I thought there might be five." He paused, gathering his thoughts, and then rushed on. "I had it in mind to offer the services of my ships if you should need them to bring Sanat Ji Mani here, but I am aware that they are unnecessary." There was a hint of chagrin in his tone, and a downward turn to his mouth.

"Who is to say that your ships would not be useful," said Rogerian soothingly. "I trust you were satisfied with the bargain you struck?"

"They accepted the endorsement he provided, as he told me they would, which enabled me to buy two large ships of a similar sort, for trading across the Arabian Sea. They are fine vessels, seaworthy and large, capable of carrying vast loads, which is why I am in Alexandria-to extend my business so that I may increase the amount of goods carried in my cargo holds between the Red Sea and the west coast of India: Hind." He took a deep breath. "I am always having to use new words for places, and for things. It is most disconcerting."

"I understand your confusion," said Rogerian, who had many centuries of the same experience.

"I have been accustoming myself to this new place, to the Mamelukes and Egypt-a most remarkable land, in its way. Nothing like what I have been accustomed to, but having merit." He pursed his lips. "I want to take a voyage up the Nile, when I have time enough to spare for the venture."

"It is a most interesting journey," said Rogerian, willing to let Rustam Iniattir set the direction of their conversation.

"You have made it?" he asked, a wistful note in the question.

"Yes; not recently." Rogerian inclined his head again. "There are many wonderful sights along the river: temples and pyramids and monuments that are as majestic as the Great Sphynx at Giza, above Fustat."

"Yes. I have been to see it, and the pyramids that stand by it. As impressive as anything I have seen in India, and unlike them; these dry lands with the past looming out of the sands, without forests or uplands or the trees that crowd the rivers of the southern coast ..." His words drifted; he called himself back to attention with a wave of his hand. "Delhi was not so lush as the south, but it was richer than Egypt, and the people were as varied as the gods ..." He coughed and pinched at the bridge of his nose. "That is all behind me. I remember to no purpose. Now that I have ships to call my own, I may extend my efforts to the Nile as well as other places," said Rustam Iniattir speculatively.

"It is a possibility, certainly," said Rogerian. "Once you have your markets established, you may want to cast your nets more widely."

"Yes. Well, it is the ships that make these things possible. In a year the vessels I have purchased will show their worth. It is a most promising venture for the House of Iniattir, and I want to show my appreciation for all that your master has made practical for me." Rustam Iniattir shifted on the divan as if it had suddenly become lumpy. "I am not one to take such generosity as my due."

"I did not think you were-nor did my master," said Rogerian, his faded-blue eyes glinting with amusement. "He told me from the first that you are a trustworthy man, and that you conducted yourself in an upright manner."

"That is a great compliment to me," said Rustam Iniattir, looking a bit embarrassed at such an encomium. "I had not understood that he thought so well of me."

"He would not have arranged for you to leave Delhi when you did if he did not," said Rogerian pointedly but with complete courtesy.

Rustam Iniattir nodded. "I supposed it was his way of protecting his wealth."

"Sanat Ji Mani has had his own ships carrying cargo for some years. His wealth was protected whether he, or you, left Delhi or not." Rogerian recalled the first purchase of Arabian Sea merchant ships, almost a century ago, and a faint smile creased his austere features. "He is a clever fellow."

"Not clever enough to leave with us," said Rustam Iniattir heavily. "I blame myself that he is missing. If only I had tried to persuade him ..." He looked up at Rogerian. "How was I to know he would have no other chance to leave?"

Rogerian grasped his visitor's emotion, and tried to ease his guilt. "You are not to blame. He wanted us to leave so that he would not have to be hindered by our presence."

"Perhaps," said the Parsi. "And yet, I cannot help but feel if I had insisted, he might have come with us ..."

"He would be glad to know you have done so well," said Rogerian, adding, "And what may I do to help you in Sanat Ji Mani's name? If your mission is for trade, I should probably tell you that he has more than twenty ships plying the waters of the Mediterranean Sea and the ocean beyond the Pillars of Hercules, carrying all manner of cargo." He gave Rustam Iniattir a little time to let this sink in.

"More than twenty?" Rustam Iniattir marveled.

"Four are in the harbor just now, if you want to inspect them," Rogerian offered.

"Oh, yes; I should like that very much," said Rustam Iniattir. "Perhaps later, when the rain has stopped." He shook his head slowly, incredulously. "I had no notion he had done so much, that he had so many enterprises."

"My master would tell you he has a restless mind," said Rogerian.

"If these are the fruits of restlessness, may I never repose again," said the Parsi with strong emotion. "I long to emulate him, to learn from him." He glanced around the splendid room again. "He lives as well as a Prince in this house."

Rogerian chuckled. "I know he would be honored by your attention."

"If only he were here," Rustam Iniattir added somberly.

"He will return, in time," said Rogerian.

"May your hopes be swiftly rewarded," said Rustam Iniattir. "He has far to travel."

"It is not the first time," Rogerian remarked.

"Ah, yes; he is an exile, even here," said Rustam Iniattir, pulling thoughtfully at his short-trimmed beard.

"His homeland fell to his foes many years ago, and he has been about the world since then," Rogerian told him, saying nothing of the thirty-four centuries Sanat Ji Mani had gone wandering. "Occasionally he returns there, but he never stays long."

"It is undoubtedly dangerous for him to do so," said the Parsi merchant, sighing. "I and those of my House know how it is to be shut away from home."

"Many have lost their homelands," said Rogerian. "I have not visited Gades-my native city-for a great many years."

"Are you also an exile?" Rustam Iniattir asked, mildly surprised.

"No," said Rogerian, and rose to go to the side-door where the under-steward and the senior cook waited, trays in hand. "Thank you," he said as he took the trays and brought them to the table at the far end of the divan on which Rustam Iniattir sat. "Your refreshments: figs, yoghurt, bread, and olive oil." He set the trays down. "I will bring you water or wine, as you wish."

"Wine is somewhat rare in this place," said Rustam Iniattir. "The Muslims do not drink it, and many will not sell it, either."

"That is their way; it is not Sanat Ji Mani's-he will provide his guests with the best he has to offer. The wine in this house is very good. It is from vineyards in Italy," said Rogerian, and did not mention that Sanat Ji Mani owned the vineyards.

"How splendid," said Rustam Iniattir, shifting in his seat to avail himself of the light repast. "Even absent, your master is an exceptional host."

"Enjoy your food, and with a good appetite," said Rogerian.

"That I will. And I will have some of the Italian wine, if you will bring it. I do not believe I have ever tasted any." He smiled quickly and broke off a section of bread, then dipped it in the bowl of olive oil.

Rogerian left Rustam Iniattir alone in the reception room and went along to the pantry at the side of the cavernous kitchen. There he took a bottle from the rack that held thirty of them, brushed the dust off, removed the sealing-wax from the bottle, and unstopped it. Selecting a cup of Venetian glass from the cupboard, he took them back to the reception room where he found his guest devouring the last of the figs. "I took the liberty of choosing a wine I thought you would like."

Rustam Iniattir looked up from the tray. "I am filled with anticipation; if the wine is of as high a quality as everything else in this house, I know I will be delighted," he said, an eager light in his eyes. "I have had the wine of Syria, and found it strong."

"This may be somewhat different, coming as it does from another land," said Rogerian as he poured the red fluid into the cup; he held it out to Rustam Iniattir, saying, "I am told this is a good example of what the vines produce."

Rustam Iniattir took the cup and drank, holding the wine in his mouth before swallowing. "Excellent," he approved. "I am most impressed."

"Then you may have three bottles to take with you when you go," said Rogerian, knowing it was what Sanat Ji Mani would do. "You said you would like to extend your trading; what have you in mind?"

Now that the intended purpose of his visit was before him, Rustam Iniattir faltered. "It probably will not seem much to a man with such extensive activities as your master has; it may be so minor an opportunity that it will not be worthwhile." He took a deep breath. "I thought that there might be some way to enter into a shared trading venture, something that would benefit us both," he said, a bit uncertainly. "I did not know that Sanat Ji Mani had so many ships, or traded so widely."

"Yes, he has ships," said Rogerian when Rustam Iniattir did not go on.

"I had thought he would be willing to do with ships as we have done with caravans," he said it without much emphasis, as if the finery of the house was intimidating him. "I also hoped he would be here: Sanat Ji Mani."

"I am authorized to act in his name, if that is what concerns you," said Rogerian. "I can make a contract that my master will honor."

Rustam Iniattir took another sip of wine. "It is not that I doubt you," he said as he put the cup down. "But the current circumstances are awkward, with your master being missing. You will agree that they are, will you not?"

"I agree they could be so construed," said Rogerian, watching Rustam Iniattir more closely than the Parsi merchant realized.

"Yes." He wiped his mouth with the edge of his sleeve. "Yes. I cannot think that it would be entirely correct to make such a contract, not until it is known if your master is ... returning."

"You mean until we know if he is still alive," Rogerian corrected him gently.

Rustam Iniattir took more wine to cover his confusion. "You know Delhi was sacked and pillaged. Many were taken prisoner and many others were killed. How can you be sure that he escaped that slaughter?" Now that he had said it, he was appalled at himself; he stared at Rogerian as if expecting a rebuke.

"I am not sure," said Rogerian with a calm that made Rustam Iniattir more uneasy than before. "Yet I trust that he has won through." He did not add that Olivia had warranted to him that Sanct' Germain had not died the True Death, for that would require explanations he did not want to provide.

"What of the woman: Avasa Dani?" Rustam Iniattir asked suddenly.

"She has established a household of her own," said Rogerian, adding nothing more about the place.

"Ah. Just as well. With Sanat Ji Mani gone, her presence here could be misinterpreted." He gave a slow nod. "She must be eager for your master's return. A fortunate thing that fever spared her, in the end."

"She has asked when he might be expected," Rogerian said.

"A prudent question from a sensible woman. How long will you wait?" Rustam Iniattir asked, drinking the last of the wine in his cup.

"Ten years is what my master has stipulated in his Will," said Rogerian, still unflustered. "I must do my utmost to keep his affairs in order against his return, and that includes making contracts with merchants."

"I ..." Rustam Iniattir hesitated and tried again, "I will have to consider my position before I say anything more."

"As you wish," Rogerian responded. "I know my master would welcome more dealings with you; your caravan endeavor has been most successful."

"And I would welcome an expansion of what we have done," said Rustam Iniattir. "But if Sanat Ji Mani remains missing, how are we to conduct business?" He sat back on the divan and mulled over the possibilities. "You may have the right to do business in your master's name, but how can you be certain he will approve what you have done? And if he does not approve, what will I be left with?"

"I cannot be completely certain; he always has in the past," Rogerian remarked. "I can offer only that assurance to you, and the pledge of the captains of his ships that they will abide by my orders in Sanat Ji Mani's absence."

"This is most difficult," said Rustam Iniattir, more to himself than to Rogerian.

"It may be," Rogerian agreed. "Still, it is the best we can make of an indeterminate situation; as long as he is missing and his fate unknown, I will look after his concerns, as he has charged me to do. If you decide you would prefer to deal with other ship-owners, I will see that you meet them, so that you can continue your business."

This surprised Rustam Iniattir. "Why would you do that, if it would put money in other men's pockets?"

"My master would still have his original contracts with you, so that if you prosper, he prospers," Rogerian explained. "It would avail him nothing to see your expansion thwarted."

Rustam Iniattir shook his head, perplexed. "Might I have a little more of that wine?" he asked, as much to gain a little time for thought as to have another taste of it.

"Of course," said Rogerian, and went to fill his cup. "It warms the heart on a chilly day."

"That it does," said Rustam Iniattir, and drank. As he wiped his mouth, he said, "In Delhi, I was a religious man; I kept the rites of my faith, and I was satisfied that Ormazd would triumph over Ahriman. Then I would have given some of this wine for Ormazd and the power of Light, with water for the world, as Zarathustra taught. But for the last year, I have not kept to the teaching as a pious man should."

"The last year has been a difficult one," said Rogerian.

"I fear it may have weakened my devotion." He said it as if confessing to a shameful secret.

"With what has transpired, that would not distress me," said Rogerian. "You have come through very difficult times, and many men's beliefs are changed during hard going."

"But my lack of trust may-" He stopped, trying to keep from saying more.

"Are you afraid you have put Sanat Ji Mani in danger because you no longer pray as you did at Delhi?" Rogerian guessed aloud.

There were tears standing in Rustam Iniattir's eyes. "Yes," he admitted, and lowered his head.

Rogerian sensed that he would have to go carefully with Rustam Iniattir. "Why should your gods protect Sanat Ji Mani when his own gods may have failed him?"

"But those are false gods, and Ahriman is mighty," said Rustam Iniattir. "Darkness rules this cycle, and without the devotion of the followers of Zarathustra, all hope will fade from the world."

"That is a bleak outlook," said Rogerian, "and a terrible responsibility for you to hold."

"Yes, it is," said Rustam Iniattir, and drank more wine. "I have never been to the caves in Persia where our faith was founded. I have never been to Persia. But I should have made a temple or founded a cave to worship in. I have money enough." He could not bring himself to look up.

"You also are in the land of the Mamelukes, and they might not readily accept your worship. They are willing to allow the Peoples of the Book to worship here, but you are not of their number." Rogerian waited while Rustam Iniattir thought about this. "To have you fined, imprisoned, or exiled would not be useful to you, or to Sanat Ji Mani. Perhaps your reticence is a gift from your Ormazd, to preserve you in this place."

"But if I lack faith, I am one with Ahriman," said Rustam Iniattir miserably. "I am part of the Darkness that is this cycle."

Rogerian thought about his own faded beliefs, and said, "If Ormazd is just and virtuous, he will not disdain what you have done; he will understand that the cycle was at work, not your lack of faith."

"But in this cycle it is most important for those who know the Light to serve it more zealously than when-" He drank the last of the wine. "If I cannot sustain my religion when I have been spared, what price will the world have to pay for my lapse?"

Rogerian did not quite laugh; he bit the insides of his cheeks to keep from doing so. When he could trust himself to maintain the gravity Rustam Iniattir's distress surely deserved, he said, "Is that it? You are abashed because you have not suffered more?" He saw the Parsi's slight nod. "What would your misery do to help my master? or the world, for that matter?"

"I have not deserved preservation," said Rustam Iniattir.

"Who among us does?" Rogerian asked. "This world is an aleatory place; some flourish who are despicable, some languish who are worthy of highest esteem."

"Because this is a cycle of Darkness," said Rustam Iniattir staunchly, trying to recover himself.

"Light or Dark, the meaning of it-if there is any-is beyond our understanding," said Rogerian. "And the gods, whatever they are, must know this and make allowances for it."

Rustam Iniattir sat very still. "I have failed my religion," he said as if pronouncing sentence.

"In time you may return to your trust in it," said Rogerian, aware that his guest was feeling the wine as much as remorse.

"I must hope I will," said the Parsi merchant. "There is so much to lose."

Rogerian wanted to assure Rustam Iniattir that he would not be held accountable for the fate of the world, but knew it would be useless to talk with him now; he bowed again, Roman fashion, and said, "If you would like to avail yourself of a moment alone, to think and to rest, I will be pleased to escort you to a chamber where you can withdraw and be alone with your thoughts. My master would extend the same opportunity to you, were he here."

Rustam Iniattir nodded. "I had not meant ... My outburst was uncalled-for." He got to his feet a bit unsteadily. "You are right: an hour or so to clear my mind would be most welcome."

"If you will come with me?" Rogerian said, gesturing toward the corridor. "There is a withdrawing room just a few steps along."

"A most gracious courtesy to a guest," said Rustam Iniattir, trying to regain the polite demeanor he had had when he first arrived.

"It is what my master would do," said Rogerian, and opened a door on the other side of the corridor, revealing a room beautifully furnished with a broad couch, a writing table, and Sanat Ji Mani's red-lacquer chest. Elaborate wall-hangings depicting the seasons and made in France provided the principle decor, with milky light from clerestory windows to provide light for the handsome display.

"More elegance," said Rustam Iniattir. "I do not believe I have seen weaving like that before."

"The hangings would be thought sacrilegious by the Mamelukes, depicting human beings as they do. But within these walls we may show them safely enough." Rogerian bowed toward the couch. "Rest and restore your peace of mind. When you are ready, we will discuss business and I will show you more of the house."

"Thank you. I think I may have drunk the wine too quickly. I must ask your pardon for anything I might have said that offended you." He cleared his throat.

"You have not offended me, Rustam Iniattir, nor have you said anything that would spite my master." Rogerian backed out of the room, but did not close the door at once.

"You are good to say so," Rustam Iniattir told him. "And a short while for reflection should restore my mind." He made an apologetic gesture as he sank onto the couch. "I cannot tell you how-"

"You need not say anything." Rogerian assured him. "When you are ready, ring the bell you will find on the writing table and I will come."

"I will," said Rustam Iniattir. "I cannot imagine how I came to forget myself so ... so heedlessly."

"No matter," said Rogerian as he closed the door. He stood in the hallway for a short while until he could hear Rustam Iniattir snoring, and then he went away to the back of the house to fetch parchment and ink, preparing to draw up the contracts that would expand Rustam Iniattir's trading empire into all the ports of Europe.

Text of a letter from Bhedi Tanka, military leader of Deogir to Rajput Hasin Dahele, carried by special messenger.

To the most Esteemed Rajput Hasin Dahele, Lord of Beragar and Ruler of Devapur, the greetings of Bhedi Tanka, Kshatriya Caste and military leader of the city and region of Deogir, lying to the north of your lands.

O most Worthy Rajput, it is with dismay that we learn of your adventures along the Narmanda River and we hear with alarm your stated intention of expanding your territory by moving to the north, which would infringe upon the lands held by my Puissant Rajput, who is master of this city and region as far as the Narmada River west to the Arabian Sea and east to the city of Asirgarh. These holdings are protected by a strong and ready army that would repel any attempt made against Deogir, by you or any other.

The reason I dare to address you is to let you know that your advances will be stopped, your men killed or castrated and sold as slaves to be sent far to the west if you should be so foolish as to enter my master's lands. Deogir is larger than Beragar and has access to the coast, which gives us many advantages that you do not enjoy. Therefore I urge you to consider the damage that will be done if you persist in your efforts.

Make no mistake, O Rajput: you will be defeated and your name will be infamous for generations to come if you challenge Deogir. Go south of the Godavari, and be content with what your grandfather has left to you. Do not continue on this course which must end in catastrophe for you and all your people.

This at the first new moon after the Balanced Day-and-Night.

There will be no second warning.

Bhedi Tanka