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Jayti Singh By Aardvark This is a Sci Fi, historical, time travel, TG, romance, adventure story that takes place in the late 16th century. I tried hard to make it as historically accurate as possible within the scope of my research, including some rather harsh 16th century attitudes. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I had writing it! If someone wishes to upload this story to another web site, check with the author first. Warning: Some subject matter and explicit language may offend. Don't read unless you are over 18. Chapter 1: The Experiment March 23, 2005 Taking the staff elevator to the 4th floor sub-basement of the Smithsonian, the question in Professor Mark Evans's mind was the same one that he'd had the entire tiring 5-hr. drive from Chapel Hill. Why was he here? Other than the bald order from his old Professor and fellow history devotee to come to his office today for something "extremely important," he had no clue. After walking for several minutes, he opened a dark brown painted metal door on the right and faced a receptionist more interested in a romance novel than her visitor. Regardless, he soon faced his old friend passing through the back door of the office. The shorter man in a stiff, starched lab coat extended his right hand and smiled in delight. "Mark, it's great to see you. I'm so glad you could make it!" After catching up, they entered the fair sized laboratory together, passing a neatly arranged array of electronic measuring equipment and unidentified electrical modules of advanced design, most of them centered around a pair of large cylindrical, exposed electromagnets set up in the center of the room. Mark smelled ozone and heard a muted 60- hertz hum as he walked by. An array of several mouse cages was assembled horizontally on a long table in the right half of the room, next to a rat maze. A pair of roll-around computer stations was set up to the left. A petite Chinese woman in her mid-thirties huddled over one of them, peering over black wire-frame glasses at something on the monitor. As they approached, she rose. She smiled pleasantly, revealing nice, even teeth. "Good morning, Dr. Evans. I'm Dr. Joyce Wu. I'm working with Professor Glendenning on the project. It's nice to meet you." Mark exchanged pleasantries. Finally, he looked at the Professor pointedly and spread his arms impatiently; He was more than ready to find out why he was here. Professor Glendenning rolled over an unoccupied chair from a test station and motioned for Mark to sit. Dr. Wu turned her chair so that all three could sit in a circle facing each other. Professor Glendenning looked intently at Mark, a gleam of excitement in his eyes. "Mark, Joyce and I have been working on a fabulous new way to study history. We've determined that, in a very limited way, it's possible to communicate with the past. Mark was intrigued but puzzled. "What do you mean? A new procedure like carbon dating or a new forensics technique?" Mark smiled sceptically. "Or are you saying you invented time travel?" Professor Glendenning shook his head impatiently. "No. No. Time travel is, for all practical purposes, impossible, except perhaps by using a black hole or a worm hole, and who has one of those lying around?" He chuckled, shifting in his seat. "We've discovered that when a rare type of crystal is passed through a magnetic field, it creates a wave that travels through time as well as space. It's instantaneous and detectable by our instruments." "Professor, you're talking about faster than light communication." Mark was stunned. If true, this would be the discovery of the century! The Professor shook his head. "The instantaneous wave we discovered has some practical problems associated with it as far as a faster than light communications system. You see, it's really more of a time wave, for want of a better term. Once created, it's detectable for many centuries. Who would want to send a message that everyone could see essentially forever?" He stopped and squirmed in his chair. "But, Mark, that isn't even half of it. Joyce made a huge discovery when analyzing the crystal." Joyce began. "When the crystal is passed through a magnetic field, it creates a special field, something I call the crystal field, that generates the wave. Electrical fields that exist inside the crystal field, such as brain waves, modify the crystal field and the wave by piggybacking their signature over it, sort of like a radio signal onto a radio frequency." "As you know, Mark, if you have two radio stations at the same frequency, you are going to hear the stronger signal. And the same thing happens when two waves are generated from the same crystal using the same magnetic field. But due to the nature of the time wave, it doesn't matter when the waves are generated. One wave will affect the other and its crystal field regardless of when they were created. If two separate waves are generated at the same 'frequency' with different brain signatures piggybacked onto them, the stronger wave with the stronger brain signature will change the characteristics of the other crystal field and modify or add on to the brain signature inside. If one wave is really strong, it can even effectively overwrite the other brain signature. "To do this, one needs to have the crystal, because the characteristics of each crystal are unique, and to make sure that the exact parameters and duration of the magnetic field as the crystal passes through it are identical for each pass. Otherwise, instead of imprinting another valid brain signature into the brain of the animal, the brain signature would just be severely scrambled." She waved towards mouse cages set against the far wall. "We've tested this on mice already. A mouse that has learned how to negotiate a maze can transfer its brain pattern onto another mouse, enabling both mice to run the maze." She laughed prettily. "The professor and I sure made a lot of mice crazy before we got it right! Although, for obvious reasons, we haven't tried it on human beings, we think we finally have it down to a workable process." Professor Glendenning leaned forward, clenching his hands together. "Mark, such a wave was generated in 1587 with a human brain pattern piggybacked." Mark's stared at the Professor. The Professor considered. "Actually, it was on October 22, 1587 at 10:11 AM Eastern Standard Time, 48 seconds and some change to be precise." "How do you know that? A wave would exist at everytime, wouldn't it?" "Yes, Mark! Very good! But the wave signature is very weak. We found it and dated it by searching for it. The Earth and Sun move, Mark. We took the radio telescope at Arlington, the one four miles wide built into the valley, and converted the sensors to detect the time wave. We moved it's sensing array to backtrack the path that Earth has traveled until the signal was strongest. There's no doubt. The Earth was at its 1587 position when the time wave was generated." The Professor stood. "Let me show you something." He walked over to a cabinet and retrieved a sword and a small black case. He handed Mark the sword, hilt first. "What do you make of this?" Mark examined the sword carefully, checking the pommel, hilt, finial and inscription on the blade. "It's a typical German hand-and-a-half sword from about the mid-16th to mid-17th century. A Nobleman's sword, by the hilt." Professor Glendenning nodded in approval. "That's the time frame the sword was appraised as being from." He took a small, orange, jewel-like object from the case, and carefully showed it to Mark, in his palm. "This is a crystal that came from that hilt. We found it by cross-referencing all known objects of that era with jewels of the same distinctive orange color of the crystal. We have tested it. It was the crystal that generated the wave in 1587. "Mark, after a lot of time on the supercomputer analyzing the time wave from the past and the characteristics of the crystal, we have found the parameters and duration of the magnetic field that the crystal must have passed through." He carefully put the crystal back into its case and brought it back to the cabinet. He examined Mark's face closely, looking for his reaction. "We want to use your brain pattern to overwrite the pattern of the person who was caught in the crystal's field. Using the radio telescope as a transmission device on tight beam, we increase the wave power carrying your pattern a few billion times and transmit to the exact place where the Earth was at the exact time over 400 years ago..." Professor Glendenning beamed. "A copy of you could be in Germany in 1587. Your copy could see Queen Elizabeth, the Spanish Armada, Shakespeare, tour Renaissance Europe, meet Galileo and, when you grow tired of it all, finally plant a time capsule for us in the future. So what do you say, Mark? How about it?" Mark rose from his chair and paced for a moment, eventually turning to face the Professor. "Professor, I'd love to say yes, but wouldn't I be imprinting my brain over an innocent person in the past? There's an ethical element to this." The Professor waved it off. "It does you credit to bring it up, but we already know who the person was. That sword has been in the Hoffman family of Mainz for centuries. In 1587, the sword would have belonged to Lutz Hoffman when he was 32 years old and not long before he became the murderous killer of innocents in a local war." He looked at Mark with conviction. "He was not a nice person." Mark raised his hands in mock defeat. "Well in that case Professor, what can I say? Of course I'll do it! You're just getting a pattern from me anyway. I only wish I could go in person!" He glanced at Dr. Wu. "Congratulations to both of you. This is an incredible achievement." Mark pointed to the sword. He remembered telling Professor Glendenning of the training he had put in over the years to be a champion with the saber. "So that's why I'm the lucky guy." "That's right. We need you for your knowledge of history and German, but we also know you can use a sword." He looked at Mark thoughtfully. "You have been keeping up with your martial hobbies, I trust?" Mark nodded. "I'm still pretty good with a saber. I'm familiar with medieval fighting techniques and I'm a 3rd degree Black Belt in Taekwando." "Excellent. All we need to know before we begin is where you intend to put your time capsule when the time comes. You should also refresh your mind on European history of 1587." The Professor handed a paper to Mark. "This is a list of places where jewels and gold were found in the last 100 years in the area of your copy's probable location. The origins of the finds predate 1587, so there should be no problems collecting them. It's a source of wealth to enable your copy to move around as necessary in the past. Memorize this list. We have the radio telescope transmission facilities reserved for tomorrow at 3:00 PM. Please be here by noon." The next day, just before he lay down in the bulky, large, white cylinder of the transmitter, Mark had a nagging concern. He watched as Professor Glendenning and Dr. Wu set up the transmission sequence. "Aren't you just a little concerned about what my copy might do in the past? He may change history; he might do something that could change our present enough for us to notice, or worse." Dr. Wu acknowledged Mark's concerns with a nod. "It's possible you could change the past, Mark, but we think the effects would create another time line, not change ours." She smiled. "Aren't you a historian? You're going back to do research, not start a war." Reassured slightly, Mark lay back. It took only a few seconds to take his pattern. While he was inside the office drinking coffee, his pattern was sent to 1587 Earth. * * * * * * * * * * March 25, 2005 Nigel drove to Plymouth and removed the stone box sealed in bitumen from the ground, precisely where the 400 year-old directions from the Royal archives said it would be. He carefully transported the box back to the laboratory in London where the assembled team of historians opened it together. As he read the greetings on the ancient paper of the coversheet, Nigel was confused. Who were Mark Evans, Professor Glendenning, and Dr. Wu? Reading deeper into the slightly odd text, still recognizably English, the truth struck them all at about the same time. What had this guy done? * * * * * * * * * * Chapter 2: Jodhpur, India: January 1587 Jayti Singh studied in the corner, sitting on a cushion, holding a Persian text on medicine in her lap. Her large brown eyes firmly focused on the dry manuscript as one hand idly played with a few strands of her black wavy hair. Her mother, Arundhati, disapproved of her learning too much. Her future husband would probably not approve of a girl who knew more than he did, after all, and it would be difficult on her if her husband wanted her to stay indoors. Nonetheless, her father, Arkan, ever indulgent to his dear daughter's wishes, allowed her to be taught alongside her more indifferent older brothers, Veer and Dhirendra, and she was clearly the best student. The rule was simple; as long as she applied herself, was courteous and appropriately demure, she could continue to learn. The hired Guru instructed his students in the Hindu classics the Ramayana, the Mahabharata, the Kama Sutra, and the four Vedas. He taught reading and writing, Sanskrit, Persian, and Urdu, as well as mathematics, geometry, and philosophy. As Jayti neared marrying age, her mother had lately been acquainting her with the finer points of the obligations to husband, mother-in-law, and children. They lived in northwest India in Manwar Province, a few miles south of the provincial capital of Jodhpur, in the heart of the wide area formerly controlled by the Rajputs, a proud and industrious people who built many of the largest fortified cities in the world. In the desert and the plains, they used extensive systems of irrigation to bring valleys and large tracts of desert to life. Jayti's people were rulers, builders, and conquerors in a feudal system millennia old. She lived in a large two-story structure built on a high point a few hundred yards from the brackish water of the river Luni. It was constructed using the local yellow sandstone, carved with geometric designs in the Rajput style. The interior had polished light gray marble floors, obtained from the fine quarry a few miles to the northeast and covered with colorful Persian rugs. Both floors were built to be airy in the very hot summers and were constructed with the auspicious Hindu number of 84 pillars. It was large enough for her mother, father, two brothers, herself, younger sister Ahladiti, and their slave Natya, a plain 30-year-old woman bought for a few silver Rupihyas to help around the house. The well was dug next to the house, far enough from the river to ensure clean drinking water. The servant's quarters, as well as the large stable, were located a couple of hundred yards in back of the house behind a wooden fence. A few families tilled the fields, growing wheat and barley in the rich soil, paying Arkan Singh a percentage of the crops for the privilege. With any luck, Jayti would have been married to a landowner or merchant who would have given her children and a family of her own. As is typical in life, one seemingly minor incident changed her path forever. Her family occasionally traveled to the Mehrangarh Fort in Jodhpur to pay respects to Raja Udai Singhji and his family. The fort was an immense yellow structure with high walls connecting cylindrical towers built on top of a sheer cliff. An impressive moat at the base made it a daunting objective for any potential invader. Overlooking the city, it contained the palace, garrison, mosque, harem, storehouses, and housing for nobles and a vast array of craftsmen, servants, slaves, and eunuchs. The interior was equal to the outside. Rajput designed and built; stylized paintings of plants and animals framed by colored glass tiling decorated the walls. Large numbers of high-arched windows with ridged interior trim cooled the palace. As mighty as it was, it still hadn't been enough to stop Moghul Emperor Akbar from conquering the province 22 years before. Raja Jodha Singh was finally beaten after a series of fierce battles in 1565. Akbar had forced him to send his son, Udai, to serve him as courtier and only 4 years before had allowed him back to become the Moghul-controlled Raja of Manwar, also known as Mota Raja, the fat Raja. To ensure the new Raja knew his place, Akbar compelled Udai to give him his sister, Jodha Bai, to be one of his son, Selim's wives. On one such visit to the palace, Jayti met one of the Raja's daughters, Shaheen, a haughty and vain girl, slightly older than herself. Shaheen's imperious attitude reflected her mother's. She was beautiful, with the classic soft features and light golden skin of the ruling class. Like her mother, having grown up under Moghul occupation, she had few illusions of life. She knew that only the powerful, the ones with protection and approval from the Moghuls, could have any measure of security. Being raised in a sea of court intrigue had taught her that a woman's power lay with her body, charm, and usefulness to men. Her goal was to acquire power and marry well. Jayti arrived at the palace after having chosen her clothes carefully for the occasion; a light tan and gold blouse and light brown wrap matched her tan and brown full pleated skirt with reddish tints. The 15 year-old was a picture of innocence, simplicity, and beauty. Many of the men, and not a few of the ladies, remarked on how she seemed to stand out. When she was introduced to the Raja, he was entranced with his friend's oldest daughter. He asked her a few polite questions and was even more impressed by her intelligence and depth of learning. Shaheen had chosen a more formal outfit with gold trim and matching jacket designed to show the wealth and power of her station. It was a startling costume, wonderful in its design, intricate patterns, and workmanship. Standing side by side with Jayti, it made her look overdressed. After a multi-course feast, the men and women retired to their respective social circles. Shaheen and Jayti were left by themselves to talk and play cards on a thick Persian rug. Shaheen, already irked by being shown-up in her own home, tried hard to intimidate Jayti with references to her privilege, wealth, and powerful friends. It wasn't working. Shaheen studied Jayti and decided Jayti wasn't being impudent or haughty. It was simply that she wasn't affected by Shaheen's superior status. Shaheen, from her perspective, had met her match. Jayti seemed happy to be who she was and to have what she had. Worse yet, Shaheen suspected Jayti was prettier. Finally, Shaheen relaxed, and the two girls ended up laughing and discussing the merits of different marriages, a subject close to their hearts at their age. Arranged and love marriages were talked about, but they both agreed that they liked the ancient custom where the women chose their husband from a line of eligible men. They both had ideas on who they wanted to see in the line and laughed about how they would consider the merits of one over another. They regretted that the practice had been severely discouraged by the Moghuls. At the end of the day, Shaheen was learning that not everything important was related to power and wealth. They were on their way to becoming friends. Their paths may well have taken them that way, except for an overheard comment made by her father comparing Shaheen unfavorably to Jayti. It was a stray remark, taken out of context, but the damage was done. Six months later, Shaheen was engaged to be married to Nanda, the second son of the next Raja of Amber, Man Singh. It was an excellent match. Man Singh was a powerful man in the Akbar government in Lahore. His son, a good-looking man of 20, was almost sure to be powerful in the Akbar administration. Two months after that, Shaheen, now a new bride, found herself in a conversation about Sultan Akbar's harem with her father-in-law. A deeply hidden resentment momentarily surfaced, and Shaheen mentioned that Akbar's latest acquisition, a white skinned, blue eyed Circassian woman, wasn't nearly as beautiful as a certain girl in Jodhpur. She regretted her remark instantly, but it was too late. The next month, a retinue of ten fierce Moghul warriors on Arabian horses with identical silver studded livery rode slowly toward Jayti's house. Following them, four bearers, wearing only red and white turbans and a simple white cotton dhoti around the waist, carried an ornate palanquin with blue silk curtains suitable for concealing a person. Four smooth-skinned eunuchs rode alongside. Jayti's father could see the dust from the retinue from far away and waited outside when they pulled up. The warriors were fierce-looking men with long mustaches curled up at the ends. They wore long chain mail vests over padding that partially protected their legs, clad in loose red trousers. Their helmets were iron cones over chain mail that flowed down the sides and back of the head. All wore scimitars on their left hip and, except for the last two riding in the two-column formation, all had powerful compound bows and a sheaf of arrows neatly tucked away behind them on their right. The last two warriors carried matchlock muskets with glowing wicks at the ready. The lead eunuch dismounted from his black mount. He had wide hips, fat arms and a loose waist, normal for eunuchs cut in adolescence. He was attired in courtly dress, a red and white turban on his large head, a red loose long-sleeved shirt and black, silver studded loose trousers gathered at the ankles, secured with an orange cloth wrapped around the waist. He approached Jayti's father. The rest of the family watched apprehensively through the windows. "Are you Arkan Singh?" he asked in a pretty soprano. "Yes, I am Arkan Singh," he replied cautiously. "How may I serve the Emperor?" The eunuch bowed slightly. "My name is Hassan Faisal. I'm a eunuch in the Imperial House. Today I represent the Emperor." He unwrapped a roll of paper he had carried under his arm and read the order. "By the order of Emperor Akbar, the woman Jayti Singh, daughter of Arkan of Manwar Province, is to be brought to the Imperial Palace in Lahore to be placed in the Imperial Harem." He lowered the Imperial orders and waited. A horrible wailing of absolute despair issued from Jayti's mother inside the house. Arkan Singh was thunderstruck. This wasn't happening to his sweet daughter! He slumped to his knees, head in hands. He knew there was nothing he could do. Since Manwar Province and Jodhpur had lost to the Moghuls, it was too often rubbed in the faces of the formerly proud Rajputs just how little they could protect themselves or their women. He returned to his feet slowly and addressed the eunuch in a voice not far from breaking. "How long do I have to say goodbye?" The eunuch looked on sympathetically. "You have five minutes. We'll come inside and wait." Hassan and four of the warriors entered the house to make sure the distraught girl and her family were not wasting time. Her father hugged her first. "Jayti, I am so sorry. I can't prevent this." "Father, I know you couldn't do anything. Don't worry." she cried. Her life as she knew it was over. All her dreams of marriage and family would most probably be gone forever. The only thing holding her together was the philosophical training taught to her by her Guru. She ran to her mother. "Mother, don't worry. I'll be all right. I'll be so good, they'll be forced to make me the Empress," she joked, smiling weakly. Her mother's eyes were streaming tears. She wailed. "Oh daughter, I'll miss you so much. Why are they taking you? It doesn't make sense!" Jayti took her mother's face in her hands. "Mother. Nothing makes sense. Not life, not death, not this. We can only do what we must. Who knows? Something good may still come of this. Please, mother, be strong for me." Her mother remembered something suddenly. "I have something I must give you. It's time." She unhooked her necklace. It contained a clear orange stone. "Take this. It will remind you of your family." She hooked it around her daughter's neck. Jayti knew what this meant to her mother. The necklace had been in the family for many generations. Jayti finally said goodbye to everyone in her family, giving an extra hug to her sister and to Natya, the slave girl, who looked at her with compassionate, teary eyes. Her father caught up with her on the way out the door. He looked in her eyes and said earnestly, "Daughter, you must listen to me. Whatever you do, don't think of this as the end. Take advantage of everything. Enjoy as much as you can. Laugh. Sing. Make friends. Be strong. Promise me this and I will be at peace." Jayti looked back at her father and hugged him. "I promise, father," Jayti whispered in his ear. Hassan took Arkan Singh aside. "Sahib, I promise she will lack for nothing. Many women would fight to be in her position." Jayti's father said nothing. Hassan sighed, then turned and left. The few extra clothes were quickly packed as she sat in the palanquin with the curtains rolled down, concealing her from the outside world. She was now the Emperor's property and not for display to others. The palanquin was lifted by the four, sturdy slave porters, and the procession started down the dusty road to the south to join the royal road to Lahore. Chapter 3: Jayti Learns of the Harem It was late in the afternoon. She cried silently for a few minutes before gathering her strength and taking stock of her surroundings. The thin blue silk curtains were adequate for seeing the green grass and trees that lined the river outside, but only fair for allowing breeze to blow in. She found sets of movable louvers beside the openings, obviously made for ventilation. She opened them as wide as possible. After it had cooled off and she had rearranged the cushions to her liking, she found that the slight swaying motion of the palanquin was quite comfortable. She looked up at the rider beside her on a black horse, the eunuch who had talked to her father. "Excuse me. Is it permitted that I speak with you?" Jayti asked tentatively. Hassan Faisal looked down to her. "Yes, it's permitted as long as we're alone. Travelling in a city, we'd be more restricted as to what we could do." "How should I address you? I know your name, but not your title or position." "I'm a Sandali eunuch and normally reside in the Palace, but occasionally attend to the concubines and wives in the harem. You may call me by name, as I will you." "Pardon me, but what is a Sandali?" Her education did not cover harems. It was a touchy subject for him. He looked through the veil as much as was possible, and made a clicking sound. "My, my. I don't think you've been out in the world very long. I suppose living in the backwoods, you don't know very much. It won't go easy for you if you need to be trained for everything." "I was well taught by my Guru in three languages, reading, writing, and some of the classics. I can do arithmetic and many other things. I don't know details about eunuchs because I never dreamed I would be in a palanquin, traveling to a harem!" He glanced at the curtains. She certainly sounded sincere. He hoped that she'd remain that way; too often, women who came to the harem lost the habit. "Don't get upset, little one, I believe you. Most women in your position were slaves, or were sold into the harem by their family; they already knew all about the life. Your circumstances are different; for some reason, you were specifically asked for by name." He considered her request. He didn't like talking about himself, or about the harem, but the girl did need to know something about it if she were to survive for very long. "Very well, I will answer your questions. Perhaps I should start from the beginning and explain what the harem is and the way it's structured." He cleared his throat, and began on a high, clear pitch. "The Emperor rules everything. His every wish is a command. His every desire is fulfilled. He owns everything and rules everyone in the palace and in the harem. This is important to remember. All the women in the harem are there for his pleasure and his pleasure alone. No one else besides other women or eunuchs is permitted to see you unveiled. It's accurate to think of yourself as completely owned by Emperor Akbar. "There are three levels of women in the harem. Other than slaves, servants are at the bottom. They're mainly there to enjoy as food for the eyes and are used to serve the concubines or wives. Occasionally, the Emperor may take an interest in one and bring her to his bed. It's almost always a temporary pleasure for him. If a servant is judged to be of sufficient beauty, she might be trained in the arts of a concubine. "Concubines are more skilled than servants in the arts of dance, playing musical instruments, reciting poetry, and making love. These women number among the few, besides his wives, who occasionally lay with the Emperor. If a concubine becomes pregnant and has a male child, she is raised in status, but does not usually become a wife. "Wives currently number about 300 of the 5000 women Akbar currently has in the harem." Jayti was appalled; this was worse than she had thought. "5000 women! How can any man need 5000 women?" "Akbar's harem isn't even the largest by far. Sultan Ghias-u-Din of Malwa had a harem of 15,000 women. It's not for us to judge these things. "Most wives are married through a political alliance. After the first night, they usually don't sleep with the Emperor again. There are a few exceptions. These women have the greatest status in the harem and have the most wealth and privileges. Still, none can leave the harem without the Emperor's permission. "There are two separate paths of authority in the harem. One of them comes from the Chief Queen of the Emperor; she is the mistress of the harem. Her name is Ruqayya Sultan Begam. She decides which women are in control and determines wealth and status. Under her, is The Keeper of the Baths, who handles that area, The Keeper of the Jewels, who handles the distribution of jewelry and wealth, and The Mistress of the Robes, who controls the clothes and enhancements such as henna, oils, lip coloring, incense, kohl, and the rest. "There is also the eunuch's line of authority. The top eunuch in the Emperor's harem is the Chief of Eunuchs. His name is Abdul Hassim. He's very powerful and has the ear of the Emperor. His job is to make certain that the Emperor's desires are fulfilled. He settles petty disputes among the servants, concubines, and slaves, and doles out allowances. Here is some advice to you," he said earnestly, "do not cross him." "As for me, I'm often found in the harem with the women. Only Sandali eunuchs are allowed to do this, of course." "Why is that, Hassan?" "It's because we have no parts at all, Jayti. You're going to know this in a few weeks anyway, so I'll tell you now. Sandali eunuchs like me have had all their parts cut off when we were young. When I was a boy, I was captured in a raid in southern Russia. "I was handed over to a Jew because Muslims are forbidden to do what is necessary to make eunuchs. He cut off all my parts with a sharp knife, put in a tin stopper so that I could not urinate, and then poured boiling oil over the rest to stop the bleeding. Three days later, they finally let me piss; they released the stopper and believe me, it was instant relief. If it hadn't worked, I would have died. Instead, I became a Sandali." Hassan grinned easily. "I'm as smooth as you are, Jayti." Behind the smile, it was still difficult to tell the tale. Bad breaks were a part of life. It had been over 15 years since he was cut. One of his childhood friends, also captured in the raid, had been cut too, but Hassan was the only one who survived the dangerous operation. He should feel lucky. But after all this time, he still felt the bitterness in his blood; he still hated those who did this to him. Jayti was silent for the moment. She tried to put herself in his place, but failed. "I've heard of this, but I have never known the difference between the different kinds of eunuchs." "There are two other types of eunuchs. Some are made when they cut just the lingam off. They have the same urges and look the same as normal men with their clothes on, but can't function in the same way. The other types have the balls removed. Sometimes the balls are twisted off; sometimes they are ripped off; sometimes they are tied up until they become black and fall off; and sometimes they are just cut off. Those kinds of eunuchs can still make a girl happy with what is left, although they can't give her a baby. That's why you'll only see Sandalis in the harem." "Hassan, I'd say that I'm sorry for you, and I am, but you seem to have more freedom than I do." Jayti said. Hassan paused for a moment. He thought about the times he left his charges behind. Many times, they had little to look forward to except the dawn. He replied slowly, "I think you're right. My home is in and around the harem, but I can leave, go into town, joke, and get drunk with friends. You'll be pampered and feted, Jayti. You're too beautiful to remain a servant. If you're smart, you'll probably have more wealth and power than I ever will. Still, I would rather be me." She dreaded the answer, but had to ask. "Hassan, is there any way out of the harem? Has anyone ever left?" Hassan laughed strangely; it was almost a tittering. "Little one, that's the fastest I've ever heard the question asked. The answer is yes, but only on the Emperor's terms. Usually one leaves when one has done something stupid and has been killed." "Are there any other ways?" Jayti asked. "I really want to know." 'I think I like this girl,' thought Hassan, 'she has spirit.' "There are two other ways. One is when the Emperor dies; the old harem is sent to smaller, inferior quarters, and is usually kept in purdah until they die. It's possible that the new Emperor could release some of the women, or marry them off, but that's not normally the custom. The other way is when the Emperor decides to give away a virgin servant to a faithful subject of the Emperor. It's considered a great honor for him." Jayti thought about it long and hard. This was the rest of her life; she had to think. "Thank you, Hassan, for telling me these things. I'm grateful. I have much to think about." A few minutes later, Jayti called out brightly. "Hassan? Hassan moved his horse closer to the palanquin. "Yes?" "My father told me to try to make the best of things and to have fun. Did you hear the joke about the old man and his young wife?" Hassan smiled inside and out. "No." "Kamal, an eighty year old who forgets things, married a 20 year old widow. Three months later, he cries to his young friend that he has given his wife a baby." "His friend put his hand on his old friend's shoulder and they drank chai together. 'I am going to tell you a story, my friend,' he tells the old man. 'Once a man went hunting a tiger, but instead of a spear, he brought a turban. Suddenly the tiger charged. The hunter threw the turban at the tiger and killed him.' 'Impossible!' said Kamal, 'Somebody else must have speared the tiger!' 'Exactly,' said the friend." Hassan laughed. "That joke is so old, the Pharaohs must have heard it. Still, it was well told." "Jayti?" "Yes." "We'll stop tonight at an inn that the Emperor has reserved for his use. You must use the veil at all times when you're out of the palanquin. We'll eat there and leave in the morning. It will take at least a month to get to Lahore. You'll be guarded at all times. The Emperor would take it very seriously if anyone sees you without your veil, now. I say this because I don't want you to get hurt." "I understand, Hassan. I'll do as you say." "Thank you, Jayti." A few days later, in the hot afternoon, they reached the city of Ajmer, the former home of Khwaja Moinuddin Christi, the Patron Saint of the Moghuls. It was a holy place and the beginning of the royal road to Agra; from there, it went to Lahore. Ajmer was a beautiful city in the desert, a lush place with a lake surrounded on three sides by hills known for its hundreds of Hindu temples and a few famous mosques. Jayti spotted a rectangular temple. Jayti called out. "Hassan!" "Hassan slowed his horse and pulled alongside the palanquin. "Jayti?" "Hassan, I have a request to make. I'd like to go to that central temple on the left. It's called the Sun temple. Do you see it?" Hassan squinted and saw it in the sun. It was a couple of hundred yards off the road. "Yes, I see it. Is there a reason? "Yes, I want to pray before I reached Lahore. This seems like a good time. I'd just like 5 minutes in the temple." "Very well, Jayti. This won't take much time, and most of us were about to break for prayer and lunch anyway. We'll stop at that temple where the inscription reads the 'Gate of Healing'." "Thank you." "I'm afraid that you must remain in the palanquin. Would that be acceptable?" "Yes, that would be fine. I can pray in here as well as outside." "Very good, then." The palanquin was ordered into the Sun temple. The bearers went up the stairs and through a gate made of a dark metal. Magnetic healing properties were known and mentioned over two thousand years before in the Artharvaveda, the healing text of the four vedas. This temple was oriented in the south to north direction. The Gate of Healing was placed at the south side, so anyone entering would be pointing towards the healthy magnetic north. Out of sight in the palanquin, no one noticed when Jayti collapsed. Chapter 4: The Meeting ['Where am I?' < A foreign voice speaks in the darkness. > 'Who are you?'] ["Who are you?" < Jayti was just recovering, still uncertain of what was happening. > "Are you a demon?"] ['You're a girl?' < The foreign voice speaks again. Something is wrong with its speech. It isn't speaking Urdu or any known language, yet still she understands. > 'I am not a demon. Where am I? Please, answer me!'] [< Jayti was surprised; no demon she had ever heard of would say please. > "You're in the Sun Temple in Ajmer. Who are you?"] ['My name is Mark Evans,' said the foreign voice 'I mean you no harm. I come from very far away and I'm lost. Where's the Sun Temple?'] ["It's about 20 miles West of Jaipur"] ['India?' < shock >] ["Of course."] ['And the year is 1587?'] ["By the Christian calendar, I think so, yes."] ['What's your name, please?'] [< There is that politeness again. > "My name is Jayti Singh. I come from Jodhpur and I am going to Lahore. Now, what are you, and how are you speaking to me?"] ['I told you my name, Mark Evans. I'm a historian from the distant future, 2005 by the Christian calendar, and part of me was sent back to this time to study this period. I'm not supposed to be here. < pause > Jayti Singh, is there a small orange crystal or stone nearby?"] [< The voice is a he, and he says these crazy things. Still, I see no attempt to deceive in his thoughts. Strange. > "I have my mother's stone around my neck. It's orange."] ['Damn. The stone was in India.' < pause > 'Jayti Singh, why is it dark in here?'] ["Call me Jayti. I have my eyes closed."] ['Would you please open them?' < pause > 'Wonderful!' < surprise, joy, movement >] ["Stop that!"] ['I just moved your arm?'] ["Yes. Stop it!"] ['Jayti, can you feel my presence here? I can feel you. I can see some of your memories. Here, this is me. Don't be afraid. I won't move your arm anymore.'] ["Mark Evans? A Professor in a place called North Carolina. Something called Tar Heel basketball. Two daughters. Wife named Jasmine. That's you?"] ['Yes.'] ["This is me."] [< long pause, curiosity and amazement > 'There are so many questions I want to ask!' < shock > 'You're on your way to the harem of Akbar the Great?'] ["No one calls him the Great except perhaps himself. He's just another murdering Moghul. You know I'm to be in his harem. You can see my memories?"] ['Yes, at least when you concentrate on something. I'm showing you how I came here. I was supposed to be inside the mind of a very cruel, nasty man in Germany, a murderer. I was going to prevent him from doing some very bad things and would have used him to move around Europe to do my research. This is different. I shouldn't be here.'] ["Then why are you still here? Go!"] ['I'm truly sorry, Jayti, I can't leave. I wish I could. But I promise I won't force you to move, or do something you don't want; I don't have that right. Besides, to be perfectly honest, I know almost nothing of India at this time except the names and dates of a few famous people. If I even tried, I'd probably just get you and me killed.'] [< pause. slow resignation recognizing the honesty in the thought > "Very well, I can see you're stuck. I'm glad to hear that you don't want to move my body around, at least. Don't do it without permission. < frustration > But what am I supposed to do with you?" < looking in Mark's mind on Akbar in India > "Oh, this is amazing. You know when Akbar will die and that Salim will become Emperor. Oh, no! He will conquer Udaipur and some of the south!"] ['That's what the future says.'] ["But it doesn't have to be! I see it in your mind!"] ['It's true. It's possible to change the future. I would suggest you discuss it with me before you try, though. You can read my memories, but you don't understand them all.'] ["I can see that. But Mark, if I'm not crazy and you aren't a clever demon, this may not be so bad. You know things that I don't. Don't think that I'm glad that you're here, but I'm willing to make the best of it. With your help, the two of us may be able to leave Akbar's harem. I don't want to be in Akbar's harem for the rest of my, and now I suppose, your life, too."] ['I'd certainly be willing to help as much as I could, Jayti.'] ["Very well. I'm supposed to be praying. I must tell Hassan I'm done."] ['Hassan is the eunuch?'] ["Yes."] "Hassan, I'm through praying." Jayti rose in her palanquin and lay back on the cushion. "Did you mention food, before?" "Yes. We have some spiced tea and rice cooked with vegetables." Hassan looked through the silk parda. "You didn't take long at your prayers. Did it go well?" "Everything went extremely well, Hassan. I was very pleased. It was as if I had found a new life." ['You have a wicked sense of humor, Jayti.'] ["And so few to appreciate it, my little demon!"] "I'm happy your prayers went well," said Hassan. Hassan handed her the chai and pulav carefully through the curtain. The Emperor didn't skimp on his spiced tea and rice with vegetables for his property; they both tasted good. A half-hour later, Jayti had to go, and Mark learned first hand what it felt like, squatting as a woman in the outdoors. Jayti was surprised at his attitude, 'Why be embarrassed? Everyone did it, after all, and many more openly than she. People in the cities often crapped on the side of the road. What was the problem?' Mark showed her a toilet and how it worked in her mind. He showed her how a septic system worked, with leach lines and the proper angle for the path to the septic tank. Jayti was fascinated. ["Mark, this is amazing stuff! One could do it indoors with almost no smell!"] ['Well, yes. Actually, ancient Indian culture had a sewer system about 3000 years ago.'] ["I see it! But it wasn't as good as this. This information must get out! My family would be so happy to have one of these in the backyard!"] ['I'll help you draw a picture of the system for you. I don't know how we would get the information out, though. From what I see in your mind, the harem guards are pretty tough.'] ["I know. That will be a big problem from now on, I'm afraid. But Mark, I'm not as worried as I was before. I've been looking at your mind, and you seem to be quite nice. We have a lot we can share together. You can learn a lot from me about this world, and I can learn much from you. Even if we're stuck in the harem forever, It won't be so bad. At least I won't be alone. You don't know the Indian classics, and you've never followed the path laid out in them, but you seem to follow some future equivalent of Dharma, right for your time and place."] ['So that's Dharma, right conduct, following the natural law of things. Thank you, Jayti. That's a big compliment. By the way, can I touch your breasts?'] ["Mark! Oh, you are joking. Hmm. Well, maybe not entirely. I'm glad I'm not the only one with a sense of humor. Ask me again sometime, and I may let you."] Ten minutes passed. ["Mark?"] ['Yes, Jayti?'] ["Since you asked to touch my breasts, I admit that I am a little curious. From here on, it's likely that I will remain a virgin. That's unnatural. Kama is necessary for life to have meaning. I won't give up Kama for these barbarians who kidnap women for their selfish desires. You may touch my breasts for a short time, and we will feel the results as a test. But please don't touch anything else."] ['Of course, Jayti. I wish I knew what you looked like.'] ["What we look like, now."] ['Sure. Here goes.' < holds right breast with the right hand, circles the nipple with her index finger > 'Now, that felt good!'] ["Yes! A little too good! It's not the same when I touch myself in the bath, or brush myself when I put on clothes. This is strong."] ['I'll stop now. This is making us both a little hot.'] ["I think that would be a good idea. But we must try this later when we're alone, Mark. If these Moghuls have there way, I may never have a man, much less be married and have children."] ['I'll do my best to make sure that fate doesn't happen to you, Jayti. There are many things the 21st century knows that the 16th doesn't.'] ["I know that you'll try, Mark."] Since arriving at Ajmer, they were on the royal road. Tall, white obelisks called Kol Minars stood every 3 kilometers, marking the route to Amber Fort. Every few miles, a Kol Minar had a watering place for horses and men. Inns were constructed along the route for the traveler's convenience. Towns, trees, and fields lined the road. They made a slight detour to Amber Village to spend the night at an inn. The eunuchs escorted Jayti inside, shielding the view of her with sections of thick cotton, preventing glimpses from passersby. Her night was spent in a room guarded from intrusions. Meals and a night soil bucket were sent in. In the morning, as the palanquin made its slow journey through the streets of Amber Village, Jayti had a good view of the vendors in their small cubical shops that stood directly against the brick paved street. Women, standing veiled in balconies overlooking the busy venue, shouted to their friends across the way; a beggar in a dirty white dhoti played his flute, hoping for enough money and food to get him through another day. The smells of chai and spices permeated the air. The yellow walls of the large fort on the hill above poked through the gaps in the white, plastered buildings. Jayti could just make out clear blue sky over the roofs of the houses. It was gone too quickly. A few minutes later, they were back on the royal road. ['Jayti?'] ["Yes, Mark?] ['What kind of person is Akbar?'] ["That's difficult to say. I've never met him. He's the first Moghul Sultan to be born in India. He stopped forcing Hindus to convert to Islam before I was born and stopped the Jaziya tax on non-Muslims. He's put Rajput traitors in charge of some of the provinces and many Hindus to work in his administration. All that sounds good, but really, all the power is still in the control of Moghuls. They'll always look down on Hindus. Akbar is very clever; he knows that if he tries to convert Hindus to Islam by the sword, everyone would fight him. This way, he has Hindu puppets working for him, and the people are calmed. The people work and pay, but they must work much harder now because they work not only for the Raja, but also the Sultan. The tax for the people has doubled. Don't be fooled into thinking that Akbar is good. He's no better than his mass murderer Moghul ancestors, Babur or Timurlane, who killed millions; he's just smarter."] ['Well, it seems the history I read was a little bit wrong. It showed him as tolerant ruler who did good things for India.'] ["If he is so tolerant, than why are we on the way to his harem? He enjoys taking daughters away from Hindus and keeping them for himself, or giving them to his favorites. It's his way of showing his superiority over the Hindus, by shaming their families."] ['What was the rule like before the Moghuls?'] ["Each city or province had it's own ruler, a raja who often lived in a fort with a palace. He ruled the people. They worked the land, or had a trade and he taxed them. Sometimes the rajas fought each other. Is this not the usual way?"] ['Yes, for here, and in the most of the rest of the world in the present time.'] ["It's to our shame that we couldn't join together to fight the Moghuls when they invaded. Rajputs have been fighting each other for centuries and the old differences die hard. The Moghuls defeated each province, one at a time. How does India look in your time?'] ['After the Moghuls lose power, there will be the British. They will control India for over a hundred years. Finally, India will get independence, overcome many problems, and become powerful. It'll eventually be the largest democracy in the world, one billion people. You can be proud of your descendents.'] ["That last sounds good, but the British? How could they control India? They're a tiny nation!"] ['Don't underestimate them. They're weak now; England has about 4 million people and all of Europe has perhaps 40 million vs. The Moghul Empire's 140 million, but they'll become organized and learn how to make great weapons. The same thing that caused India to lose against the Moghuls will cost them against the British, lack of unity. Still, who knows what the future holds now?'] * * * * * * * * * * A few days later, some of the other eunuchs, encouraged by Jayti's friendly attitude, told her some of the latest palace gossip. Aashiq Aziz explained, "The three sons of Akbar are all from a concubine, Maryam Muzzamani. The oldest is Salim, 19. He'll probably be the next Emperor, but drinks and lives in his harem. The next in line is Murad, a year younger, who also drinks and is widely regarded as useless. The third is Daniyal, who is quite young." He bent low to Jayti's parda and spoke in a conspiratorial voice. "There are always plots and intrigue in the harem. It's not unusual to have several wives or concubines poisoned in a year; such is the rivalry for the Emperor's affections. Sometimes affairs between concubines and eunuchs are discovered." Jayti asked softy, pressing her face to the curtain. "What happens to them?" "They are killed, Jayti. Usually their heads are stuck from their bodies. No Emperor would ever permit such a thing." They passed through the magnificent city of Agra, the focal point of the royal roads. They turned north and soon passed by Delhi. The wondrous palaces and towers were too soon left behind. A week later, they began to approach their final destination, Lahore. The air was cooler as the season progressed; it was late November. The other eunuchs, Aashiq Aziz, Fadil Muhammad, and Rahmat Ahmud, seemed to be decent people, if obeyed. Their conduct towards Jayti was understandably affected by the knowledge that their lives were on the line if she did something to displease the Sultan. The Moghul warriors were another issue; they were never friendly to Jayti. When asked a question, they either answered her gruffly, or ignored her. The expedition was nominally under the charge of Hassan, but the Moghuls didn't bother to hide their feelings that eunuchs were beneath contempt. They slept, prayed, ate, and talked by themselves. Numerous gardens and neat houses announced the nearness of the great city. As they grew closer, larger, more expensive, luxurious estates, with grander gardens in the Muslim cross style became more prevalent. As the retinue made its way, Jayti watched workmen wearing simple white cotton dhotis build the large red brick wall under the hot sun that would eventually surround Lahore, a city of about 100,000. The white minarets and red towers of the Lahore Fort had been visible for many hours. The harem and the Imperial Palace were inside and had been since Akbar transferred his seat of power to Lahore from the political and physical dangers of Delhi and Fatehpur Sikri, the water-poor city he had built more than fifteen years before. Twenty Moghul guards guarded the open gate to the fort. Attached to the wall and next to the gate stood a heavily constructed guard building of red sandstone. After a cursory inspection of the orders inside, Hassan and the retinue were waved through. After a ten-minute walk through the winding streets lined with sandstone and mud-brick, plastered dwellings and shops, Hassan halted the retinue just outside the palace main gate. He dismounted and handed his orders to the head of the guard who passed on instructions to a waiting runner, a eunuch boy, who ran inside. All went well, and a few minutes later the guards allowed the entire retinue inside. The gate doors closed. The palanquin was taken to the Chief Eunuch's Offices. Jayti was assisted from the palanquin and entered the door to the offices with the eunuchs. They wasted no time; she was conducted immediately to the examination room. Jayti had been warned of this on the trip. The Chief Eunuch and other eunuchs would inspect her closely for physical defects. If they were satisfied, she would be submitted to the Chief Wife, Empress Ruqayya Sultan Begam, for approval. Once the Sultana was satisfied, Jayti would be admitted to the harem as a servant, fully owned by the Emperor. The Chief Eunuch, Abdul Hassim, was already in the examination room. The smooth faced black man of sleek appearance watched her closely as she entered. Jayti noticed, most of all, the grim faced man's rich uniform of black pajamas, gold shoes, white choli blouse and red adivasi sash; all were trimmed and detailed with gold. His turban was red and black, again with gold trim. His age, as far as she could tell, seemed to be about 45, although she couldn't be sure; Hassan had told her that age was hard to tell with eunuchs. She removed her clothes at the Chief Eunuch's command, and she noticed his lack of interest as every part of her body was checked by the waiting cadre of eunuchs, including her breath, teeth, breasts, rectum, and yoni, to ensure that she was healthy and was still a virgin. Finally, they were satisfied. She was told to put on her clothes. The Chief Eunuch glanced at Hassan. "Come with me Hassan. We'll discuss your trip." Hassan followed Abdul Hassim into an ornate yellow office on the corner and closed the carved wooden doors. "Well, Hassan, how is she?" Mirza, she's very smart, has classical learning, and is very honest and brave. You saw yourself how beautiful she is." He held his chin with his hand and thought for a moment. "She is perhaps, a bit na?ve. After all, she's only 15, and she's never trained for the harem. She's here because either she, or someone in her family, has made a powerful enemy. Nonetheless, she's determined to fit in. I think she could be a concubine in a very short while." Abdul Hassim examined Hassan's face. "It seems you like her a lot, Hassan. What if I asked Aashiq, Fadil, and Rahmat what they thought? Would they say the same?" "Mirza, I wish you would just ask them yourself. I talked to her more than they did, but I believe they would all say the same thing." Abdul Hassim waved his hand in a gesture signifying unimportance. "I think the Emperor may eventually be well pleased with her. I agree." The eunuchs conducted her to the chambers of Ruqayya Sultan. Ruqayya wore a red and gold ghagara dress with a matching peshwaz short coat, a dupatta wrap and silk parda draped over the top of her head. She was a bit on the plump side, but she was royalty and actually slept regularly with the Emperor, despite being in her 40's. She had power and commanded the Emperor's respect. The Sultana had Jayti remove her veil. Her inspection was an examination of her knowledge and character. After a few minutes, she finished her questioning. The Sultana nodded. "You're satisfactory to me as a servant for the harem. You will be admitted to the harem as a servant to a concubine. But first, you will be trained." A month went by, as Jayti was trained in palace and harem etiquette. She learned the layout of the harem and palace along with the rules she had to follow. Slaves removed her body hair below the neck with a paste of hot lemon and beet sugar. Finally, she was ready. Aashiq, the eunuch, guided her through the palace to the viaduct gate. Female guards passed them through, and they walked together down the long path with the 20-ft. walls that ensured purdah. The harem grew in size as they walked towards her new home. Her eyes grew wide at the sight before her. Chapter 5: The Harem She stood at the East Side of a huge courtyard: the center of a vast, three- story building called the Major Harem, the housing for the concubines and most of the wives. Lining the courtyard on all three floors were corridors, supported by narrow pillars. The entire building was made from red brick covered in white marble veneer; it almost glowed in the sun. The entrances to the apartments were protected from the heat by the corridors above. Each apartment had a delicate arch opening with light wooden doors as well as at least one arched window with shutters for bad weather. The courtyard grounds themselves were spotless and constructed of large light polished marble squares with several breaks around the perimeter for leafy shade trees and benches. The Major Harem was square with four entrances, one in the middle of each side. The South entrance was the rarely opened Major Harem Gate that led to the outside world of Lahore. Behind her was the viaduct entrance to the palace as well as the entrance to the Dining Hall and the Hawa Majal, or 'Wind Palace,' a tall building with fluted domes and large openings designed for breeze and comfort in the dry heat. Next to her in the shaded corridor were the rooms of the Keeper of the Robes. Directly across the courtyard, lay the entrance to the Main Baths. To her right was the entrance to the Minor Harem building, used mainly by servants and slaves for the concubines and wives, and her new quarters. Female guards who monitored all activity below were distant overhead, occupying open white marble dome-shaped towers. Jayti smelled spice and sandalwood in the gentle breeze. Throughout the entire complex, Jayti watched as hundreds of beautiful women strolled and lounge, some in shocking outfits of the sheerest muslin. Others wore calico cloth, less to conceal than to accentuate portions of the anatomy. Henna stripes of various colors and designs decorated many. One young woman looked like a painting from a wooded scene, with multi-hued green leaves, and delicate branches across her breasts and back. Some women went topless in the heat. Many wore large jewels in their hair, or over their foreheads. Nose rings, some quite large, were common. Servants and slaves in more basic blouses, dresses, and pants outnumbered the women in the scanty costumes by about three to one. Obviously, the favored women were very well cared for and attended. ["Mark, what do you think?"] ['This is something out of the Arabian Nights. It's a delicate fortress with beautiful women everywhere. Can you feel how I'm feeling?'] ["Of course. You're making me want to make love to these creatures. It's annoying, impossible, and the attempt could cost us our life. I believe you said that your science had proven that a place in the brain decided whether one liked men or women. I look forward to the day when you feel that way about men."] ['I don't think that I could have been changed very much in one month. This is a very old fantasy for a man.'] ["I know only too well, Mark. My heart beats faster when we look at that woman in the muslin that conceals nothing."] Aashiq broke her out of her look of wonder with a nudge to the ribs. Chief Eunuch Abdul Hassim and the Chief Empress Ruqayya Sultan Begam were approaching. As they had been trained to do, they stopped and bowed low to the Sultana and the Chief Eunuch until they passed. They stood outside the rooms of the Keeper of the Robes, their first stop. They entered together. Aashiq motioned her on. "I'll wait here for you, Jayti. When you're finished here, come with me." There was little talk. The Keeper of the Robes, a still-beautiful, medium- sized woman with light brown skin in her early thirties, took one look at Jayti and called for an assistant. She turned and addressed Jayti directly. "My name is Aisha Ram. I am the Keeper of the Robes. You are new here and don't know anything. Listen to me and pay attention. You will wear the clothes that the Emperor wants you to wear. Take off your clothes and put them on the table." ['They certainly take off a lot of clothes in here.'] ["And there is more to come, I'm sure. It's been one long, hot day since we've had a bath."] ['And this bath will probably not be alone, which means....'] ["Your thoughts follow a path with no forks, as they say."] Jayti removed her clothes and put them on the table. She kept her necklace with the orange crystal. "Your hair has been removed, good. Tatyana, find some clothes for the new servant." Tatyana opened an adjacent door and motioned to Jayti. They entered a medium-sized room with a large window made with delicately designed, geometric shapes. The room contained a variety of fine calico, muslin, and silk clothing. Some were hung on hangers and others were stacked in neat piles, apparently by size. Tatyana brought out an embroidered white blouse, and a long yellow and red dress. She also found some tan kid leather shoes with silver trim. Jayti was relieved. The clothes were quite nice, but nothing like the extremely scanty garments found on many of the women. Tatyana ordered Jayti to try them on. Jayti put them on carefully. These clothes, although more modest than many others she had seen, were still incredibly costly. They fit very well. It made her feel expensive and well kept. Two other similar sets of clothes were brought out and tried on. After replacing one that was too small, she now had three sets of clothes that were appropriate for her standing in the harem. "You'll wear these for now. They'll identify you as a servant. Later, you'll want to try on some different clothes and experiment with different styles." Jayti looked surprised. "You don't think so?" She laughed. "Wait. After a while, you'll have a strong desire to be noticed. You're a beautiful girl. It's normal." "What do I do, now?" "You're done here. You may go" Jayti went outside where Aashiq waited. "Now we find your space in the Minor Harem, then you must take a bath. After that, you will report to your mistress, Maryam. She'll tell you what to do from there." She followed Aashiq across the courtyard to the North gate, where the entrance to the Minor Harem lay. They passed through the wide doors and entered a vast courtyard similar to the Major Harem. The building surrounding the courtyard was two stories high and had no true walls. It was open with a series of columns four rows deep. Rooms for the slaves and servants were