Excerpt from Beneath a Marble Sky by John Shors, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

Later that evening, I rested on a tiger’s pelt and gazed at the Yamuna. Above me rustled the heavy flaps of the canvas pavilion our servants had pitched near the riverbank. The scarlet structure possessed no sides, though stout bamboo poles supported its roof. An immensely broad and thick carpet, depicting marvelous arrays of roses, ensured the comfort of whoever lounged within the pavilion. Furs, cushions and gossamer silk blankets covered parts of the carpet.

As I rubbed my hand on the tiger’s intricate fur, I wondered how a beast could be so beautiful and so frightening. Beside me sat Mother and Father, each clad in dusky garments. My baby sisters slept next to them under pashmina blankets. Much as I loved my sisters, I could rarely enjoy their company, for their nursemaids saw to every need. These women were quite protective of their duties and certainly did not want my help.

On the opposite side of the pavilion, a troop of dancers and musicians amused us. Versed in the Kathak art of storytelling, these entertainers recreated the famous account of my great-great-grandfather, Humayun, escaping from hordes of Afghan warriors. The tale was harrowing, for after defeating our forces the Afghans began slaughtering all our people—be they child, woman or man. Legend said that as the enemy overran our imperial guards, an attendant gave the Emperor a water sack. Inflated, the animal gut allowed him to swim safely across the Ganges. Thus, my great-great-grandfather was able to return years later and drive out the invaders.

Five men—with blood-spattered faces and naked chests—represented the Afghans. Another performer wore a pearl necklace, and clutched the inflated and leather-bound stomach of a horse to his chest. While musicians plucked upon sitars and beat against drums, the Afghan warriors chased the Emperor onto a wide bolt of blue velvet.

As the music quickened the dancers became caught in the river’s currents and spun madly, flailing their arms about, while Humayun swam toward the opposite shore. When he finally stepped upon land, his pursuers fell, writhing atop the velvet, pulling it over themselves, disappearing beneath the river’s blue waves.

We applauded the scene’s conclusion vigorously. Though the Kathak was a popular art, which we witnessed almost every week, these men were among Agra’s best performers. Father did them enormous honor by rising to give their leader, who had played the Emperor, several silver coins. Compliments were exchanged and then the sweating men folded their bolt of velvet and quietly left the pavilion.

Though I’d enjoyed the display, I glanced somewhat enviously toward the distant figures of my brothers, wishing that I could also be unaccompanied. Dara lounged near the river, his back against a magnificent cypress tree. He held an open Qur’an. On such nights Dara often read, though he studied the Hindu gods as much as the Holy Book of Islam, or any other matter. Father, an advocate of the arts, took pride in Dara’s interests. In fact, they often shared sweets as they mused over architecture, poetry or music.

Happy cries caused me to lift my gaze. Shah and Murad, who seemed to find pleasure in each other and no one else, hunted carp at the water’s edge with bows and arrows. Farther away, barely within hailing distance, Aurangzeb rode his gray stallion in circles. I might have ridiculed his polo skills, but Aurangzeb was a better rider than anyone his age. His mount was well behaved, as it should be, for not three moons before I saw Aurangzeb beat it mercilessly with a bamboo rod.

Beyond Aurangzeb, who now drove his mount in twisting turns, were multitudes of our people. On the river, men returned from the muddied currents with boatloads of dying fish. Upon the shore, women mended nets or added colorful dyes to fabrics. Some families, much like ours, simply relaxed in the cool stillness of this autumn night.

From Beneath a Marble Sky by John Shors. Copyright 2004 John Shors. All rights reserved.