“Our foreign ministry was concerned that Aquilan citizens and investments might be in danger from the Caidists.”
“Funny, Captain Harper said the same thing.”
A small frown creased the captain’s brow; Sikander doubted that anyone who didn’t know Markham well would have noted her displeasure at the comparison. “I assure you, Mr. Nguyen, my government is opposed to any attempt to alter the status quo in Gadira. Hector is here only to make sure our people are safe.”
“My apologies, Captain; I did not mean to imply otherwise. The remark was supposed to be ironic.” Nguyen glanced up toward the sky to indicate the warship overhead, and gave a small shrug. “Several Aquilan corporations have been doing business in Gadira for decades, but the last time I looked, there weren’t more than half a dozen Dremish citizens in-system. Your concerns seem a little more … proportionate.”
Magdalena Juarez glanced around the party. “Are the Dremish here?” she asked.
“No, Dremark has no diplomatic representation in the sultan’s court,” Garcia answered. “There’s a local consul in the city of Meknez, but he’s a newly arrived business representative. This is not the sort of event that he would be invited to. In fact, I haven’t even met him yet.”
“Nor I,” said Nguyen. “I am sure he will turn up sooner or later. In the meantime, Captain, I suggest you exercise some care in granting shore leave to your crew. It would be best to stick to the offworlder-friendly districts in Tanjeer to avoid any incidents with Caidist sympathizers. The poorer neighborhoods may not be safe. I can recommend some good—” The Montréalais broke off. “Ah, perhaps later. It seems the sultan is ready to see you.”
Sikander glanced around. A palace guard in a crisply pressed uniform approached from behind him. The fellow bowed to Captain Markham, and said, “Captain Markham, will you and your officers follow me? The sultan will receive you now.”
“Please, lead the way,” Markham replied. The palace guard escorted them to a large pavilion that stood a short distance from the assemblage of guests, partially screened by an elegant hedge. Several more guards stood silently nearby, motionless and vigilant. Inside the pavilion, a richly attired Gadiran man reclined on a couch, surrounded by several more men dressed in similar fashion, and one young woman who wore an embroidered caftan in rose and burgundy. The Gadirans spoke softly among themselves in their own language, but the man on the couch looked up with interest as Hector’s officers were shown into his presence.
“Your Highness, Captain Elise Markham of the Aquilan Commonwealth Navy, commanding officer of CSS Hector, and her officers,” the guard announced. “Lieutenant Commander Juarez, Lieutenant Simms, and His Highness Lieutenant Sikander Singh North, Nawabzada of Ishar. His Royal Highness, Sultan Rashid el-Nasir, Monarch of Gadira and Defender of the Faithful. Her Royal Highness, Amira Ranya el-Nasir.”
“Your Highness,” Captain Markham said, bowing. The others followed suit. Sikander quietly studied the ruler of Gadira. The sultan was a short, round-bellied man of middle years, but his fleshy face lit up with an almost childlike delight as the introductions continued. On the other hand, the sultan’s niece was not much older than twenty-three or twenty-four, with raven-black hair and a tall, graceful figure. Her chin was perhaps a little strong and her expression a bit too severe for her to be a classic beauty, but she studied Hector’s officers with an expression of keen interest.
“Captain, welcome, welcome,” Sultan Rashid said. “We are honored by the visit of a Commonwealth warship. Aquila is one of our oldest and most valued friends among the great powers.”
“The pleasure is ours, Your Highness. The opportunity to visit new worlds and meet new friends is one of the things I enjoy the most about the naval service.”
“Tell me, how do you find Gadira?”
“Warm, Your Highness. My homeworld is quite a bit cooler and rainier than Tanjeer.” Markham smiled easily. “Your gardens are very beautiful—already today I have discovered dozens of flowers I have never seen before. Are they native species?”
“Many of them are,” the sultan replied. “It is one of the little ironies of our planet; so much of Gadira is desert, but we are blessed with many exquisite native blossoms. Come, let me show you some of them.”
“I would be honored,” Markham replied. Sultan Rashid got to his feet and led the way over to one of the nearby flower beds, launching immediately into a description of the various blooms. The captain allowed herself one brief moment of polite surprise, then followed along and paid attention to Rashid’s enthusiastic discussion.
Sikander exchanged bemused glances with Magda Juarez and Dr. Simms. Somehow he doubted that Captain Markham had intended to dive into a botanical discussion with the ruler of Gadira, but she’d found herself there anyway. It was a credit to her natural composure that she adapted to the unexpected diversion without a hint of confusion, as if her whole purpose in calling on the sultan had been to discuss his gardens. With small shrugs, Magda and Simms hurried over to join the captain and take an interest in the discourse as Sultan Rashid chattered on about the flowers. Sikander was about to follow them, but as he glanced around for a cue of what was expected, he noticed the amira giving him a thoughtful look.
“Are you interested in gardens, Lieutenant North?” she asked him.
“I appreciate them, Amira,” he told her. “I am afraid I don’t know much about Gadiran botany, though.”
“Neither do I,” she said. “However, gardening is one of my uncle’s dearest pastimes. Your captain may learn a lot more about flowers today than she anticipated. Let’s escape while we can.”
“As you wish, Amira,” Sikander replied automatically. He covered his surprise with a warm smile while he collected his thoughts. Was this unexpected meeting nothing more than the pleasantries of a dutiful hostess? A diplomatic ploy to exchange views the sultan would not want to bring up in person? Or did the sultan’s niece have something else on her mind?
The amira took his arm and steered him toward the other side of the pavilion. For an instant Sikander wondered if he’d committed a faux pas, but he realized that the men and women at the sultan’s party mixed and chatted just as they did in similar settings on any other world. It seemed Gadiran society was not quite as puritanical or sex-segregated as he’d expected. The two of them strolled slowly out along a garden path, trailed unobtrusively by one of the guards. The sultan’s niece really is quite pretty, he decided.
“Did I understand correctly that you are from Kashmir, not Aquila?” she asked him.
“Yes, Amira. Kashmir is an independent system, but we have been under Aquila’s protection for more than a century.”
“Just as Gadira is … allied … to the Republic of Montréal.”
“More or less,” Sikander said. “I grew up on the planet Jaipur, but I was sent off when I was eighteen to study at the Commonwealth’s naval academy. I am unusual in that my father is a man of some standing in Kashmir, and he arranged for my appointment.”
“The nawab, of course.” The amira gave him a playful smile. “Are you royalty, Nawabzada?”
“Not really. My father’s rank probably falls somewhere between the Gadiran titles of sultan and bey. I’m certain yours is the superior title, Amira.”
“Ranya, please,” she said. “Everybody calls me by my title. If you have half an excuse not to, I would sincerely appreciate it.”
Sikander laughed. “I have much the same experience on the rare occasions when I return home. Very well, Ranya. I would be delighted if you called me Sikander, or just Sikay.”