A Prince of Dreamers Part 10

"Yonder is Faiz, the poet--oh fie! He hath his dog with him--the unclean beast," giggled another.

"Aye! Abulfazl, his brother, will likely come with the King; they say his stomach grows bigger every day trying to swallow what his Majesty will not eat."

Rakiya Begum gave a cackling laugh. "Stomach or no stomach, he is the wonder of the age. He hath approved this concealed one's verses."

"Mine also," bridled Aunt Rosebody. "He hath asked and used my memory in his history. But wherefore delays the King? The show is like a peac.o.c.k's tail without an eye, and he away."

It was an apt simile. The almost inconceivable magnificence of the scene made the eye wander. The acres on acres of gorgeous pavilion flashing with silver-gilt columns, glowing with silken Khorasan carpetings, filled to the roofing with tier on tier of grandees of the empire ablaze with jewels, multi-coloured as a flowerful parterre--all this needed centralising, seemed incoherent without a figure on the throne. The very curve of waiting elephants--a solid wall of gold trappings encrusted with gems which stretched on and on beyond the pavilion on either side like some huge bow--seemed as if it might have gone over the horizon, but for the tight-packed bowstring of the populace blocking the distant view from sight with myriads of eager watching eyes.

Suddenly a great blare of sound!

At last--at last! The Royal _nakarah_ at last! And see! sweeping round ahead of a scintillating knot of hors.e.m.e.n, banners, lances--one man!

The King! The King!

A low moaning surge of sound came from the packed humanity for an instant. The next it was lost in the wild shrieking bellow which seemed to crack the skies as two thousand elephants threw up their trunks head-high and let loose their leviathan throats.

An imperial salute indeed! One that never grows stale, and the thrill of it paled Akbar's cheek as, with the shining sun, standard of the Rajputs on one hand, the glorious green banner of Islam on the other, he rode forward to take the throne which he had wrung alike from Hindus and Mahommedans.

Of what was he thinking, as grave, courteous, he returned the obeisances of all? He was thinking with a pa.s.sion of regret in his heart of a lad of eighteen found drunk in Siyah Yamin's Paradise.

And now, seated on the throne, his figure, clad in simple white muslin--with the milky sheen of a rope of pearls, and the dull white gleam of the diamond he always wore in his turban--its only ornament--seemed to centre the magificence in curious contrast.

"The King--may he live for ever!--looks well enough," commented Rakiya Begum, charily concealing her pride, "but why doth he not wear a gold coat like his fathers? These innovations will surely lead him to h.e.l.l."

"_Sobhan-ullah!_" a.s.sented Salima nervously.

They were such simple, straightforward Beneficent Ladies with their high features, high courage, high sense of duty, of family, of tradition, all swathed and hidden away in scent-sodden silks and satins. They formed as it were a masked battery of pure benevolence behind the throne, unseen, but felt; for Akbar gave a glance round to where he knew his mother must be sitting ere, facing his empire for a second or two in silence, he rose and stepped forward to the great silver-gilt steel-yard which stood in front of the dais.

A blare of _nakarahs_ sounded the advance, and Aunt Rosebody from her peephole said in an agonised whisper: "G.o.d send everything be ready!"

"Even the Mystic Palace, O Khanzada Gulbadan Khanum! was not more prepared!" replied Lady Hamida, "Eunuchs! take out the gold!"

Then, as the slaves staggered forth under their burden, she sate clasping little Umm Kulsum's hand murmuring softly, "He did not weigh so heavy--once!"

She was back in memory to the terrified travail of long years ago in the wilderness when, as a queen flying from her enemies, she had first wept at the rough looks of the hastily summoned village midwife, then hugged her for very joy when the boy-baby was put into her young arms.

The "Mother of Plumpness" nestled closer to her in the sheer sympathy which she had, and to spare, for all comers. Her round bright eyes, indeed, had already sought and found the posy of violets which the King wore half-hidden by the rope of pearls around his neck. She grew them in her garden, so that the Most Excellent might ever wear the flower he loved so well; that his grandfather Babar had loved so well also.

Akbar, meanwhile, seated in the scales awaited the great platter of gold, and a sigh of relief rose from behind the lattice as the steel-yard, recovering from the impact, oscillated, then settled to fair equipoise.

The gold, anyhow, was of the right weight!

"Give it to the poor!" said the King and the taut bowstring of the populace gave out a surging thrill.

"The ornaments next!" whispered Aunt Rosebody feverishly, and held her breath as with due decorum the second huge tray was hefted to the scale.

What had happened? Was there a faint unevenness in the swing? Would there be the least deficiency?

Ere the question, rising in ten thousand minds, could be formulated fairly, it was settled by one small hand which flashed through the latticing, and a scarce-heard c.h.i.n.k told that a little gold bracelet had fallen just where it should fall.

Akbar holding to the gilded chains as the balance steadied to level rest, did not smile. He only threw back at the lattice one all-comprehending remark of superhuman gravity.

"Thanks! most reverend aunt!"

Gulbadan Begum fell from her peephole with a little shriek of outrage, and the remaining ten weighings, and the distribution of chicken, and sheep, and goats, one of each for each year of the Most Auspicious reign, had all been set aside for the poor ere she had recovered her composure.

"Now is there peace, as the squirrel said when he had pulled the sting out of the wasp," she remarked, hurriedly fanning herself with the plaited edge of her tinsel-set veil, "but 'twas like the Day of Resurrection!" This being her favourite standard for a disconcerting event.

"Who flings, finds as he flings!" remarked Rakiya Begum with much acerbity, "and if women learn men's tricks they must expect scandal.

'Tis the fault of ill-regulated youth!"

"Ill-regulated?" burst out Aunt Rosebody in instant wrath. "My father--on whom be peace--loved to see his girls--but there! No quarreling on this great day! Here come the elephants!"

They came, heading the review. Close on two thousand of them, three abreast, moving like a wall, only their slow shifting pads showing beneath their fringed war-armour. And as each trio pa.s.sed, up went the snaky trunks, and from between curved tusks a bellowing trumpet shrieked out.

"Not to-day, Guj-muktar!" called the King appeasingly as one mighty beast paused; and the wise monster pa.s.sed on shaking its huge head as if to rid himself of an unwelcome burden; for Guj-muktar was Akbar's favourite mount, and objected strongly to a strange driver.

Then came the camels all scarlet and gold, with swinging ta.s.sels, their riders bent almost double in sitting the long stilted stride.

Then the horses neighing, prancing, curvetting, led by gorgeous grooms waving long yak's-tails. Next the hounds, lean, hungry-looking, pacing beside their keepers, followed by the hawks quaintly hooded and leashed, their bells jingling, looking like stuffed birds, so still were they upon the falconers' wrists.

Finally--quaintest sight of all to the three Englishmen who seated beside Padre Rudolfo the Jesuit, watched the scene with wide eyes--the hunting leopards, their cat-like faces shifting and peering, their dog-like limbs sinewy and sinuous, their long slender tails swaying at the tip with rhythmical feline regularity.

"Samand!"

The King's voice echoed softly through the hot air. There was a spotted, painted flash in the sunlight as a leash was slipped, and a great creature was purring at Akbar's feet like a huge cat and rubbing its back against the throne. The King's hand went down to it, and its head continued the rubbing with still louder purrs.

"Lo! It is not meet," remarked Rakiya Begum with dissatisfaction. "The Most Auspicious is no better than a _mahout_ or a hunter."

"He cannot help the beasts loving him," spoke up little Umm Kulsum hotly.

"I offer excuse," snapped the head of the harem. "He need not love them in return. Come, ladies! All is over save the soldiery, and they are of no interest to virtuous women."

She gathered up her flock austerely, the Lady Hamida and Auntie Rosebody lingering to discuss Prince Salim's absence from the a.s.semblage.

"He was not there! I looked even in the backmost row," declared the little lady in a flutter. "What thinkest thou, Hamida? Can he be in prison!"

"More likely sick in his mother's hands," replied Hamida coldly. "She was not with us either, and, didst see? They were feeding Prince Danyal with sweeties all the time!"

"Trash!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Aunt Rosebody vehemently. "What can they do but drink with sugar in their mouth from morn till eve? If they would but give the lad over to me----"

Here she gave a little shriek of relief, for there, as she entered the arcaded reception room, was the scapegrace seated sulkily among cushions.

"Thou--thou evil one!" she began in shrill tones which yet suggested endless excuses. "So thou hast been overtaken _again_, and in a public place! Why canst thou not be as thy great-grandfather was in his cups--but that is not edifying for the young. Ah! Salim! Salim! How came it about, sweetheart?"

"'Twas the meddler Birbal--may G.o.d scorch him," growled Salim sulkily.

"He came after his cub--else Khodadad had stuffed the guards full of gold."

"Khodadad! Lo! Tarkhan though he be, he should die for high treason.