Akbar Part 9

The conversation, which was very interesting to Siddha, continued for some time, and then the two friends, taking leave, mounted their horses and continued their journey. A brisk but rather long ride, which obliged them more than once to halt and rest, brought them in sight of the heights on which the palace of Fathpur was built. However striking had been the first view of the palaces of Agra, this was not less so. The buildings rising one above another, as though built on terraces, stood out proud and stately against the sky, with their tall towers, and sharply cut battlements. Broad marble steps glittered in the sunshine, here and there overshadowed by the thick green of tamarinds and other trees.

As Siddha and his companion, leaving their horses to the charge of their servants, entered the precincts of the palace itself, the former, though less astonished, was far more delighted than he had been with his first view of Agra. The gardens pleased him more, and were more satisfying to the eye, for here no wrong was done to nature; the paths, instead of being laid out with uniform regularity, followed the unevenness of the ground, and were thickly overshadowed by luxuriant vegetation. And what a magnificent and refreshing view over the neighbouring hills and fields, rich and golden with corn, and over the silver shining river! For some time the two wandered about, sometimes through solitary groves, and then through galleries filled with guards and servants. At last Parviz proposed they should go to the lower town to seek their lodgings, and to obtain better refreshment than had been possible on the road. This proposal was willingly agreed to; and after the two friends had enjoyed the needful repose, they again sallied out to visit what was to be seen in the town.

"Excuse me," said Parviz, "if I leave you for a few minutes. I have to give some papers from my uncle to one of his officers here, and to speak to him about some affairs which will not interest you. He lives close by, and I shall be back immediately. In the meantime you can visit that old temple yonder, surrounded with acacias; or, if you like it better, pay your devotions there."

"Very much obliged," he answered, laughing; "I scarcely care to do that, but I will willingly visit the temple, and will await you close by."

Siddha had hardly entered the vaulted, dimly-lit building before he recognised it as a temple of Siva by the numerous emblematic ornaments on the pillars, and, advancing a few steps, he saw at the furthest end a kind of hall lighted from above, where was placed a colossal image of the G.o.d, seated cross-legged on a lotus, his arms and ancles ornamented with numberless rings, the symbol of the trinity on his forehead, and a necklace of skulls around his neck. Siva was the immortal ruler of the world, creating to destroy, and destroying to create afresh, endless in his manifestation and transformation of being, from whence all takes origin, and to which everything must return. Well as our young Indian understood the idea represented by these images and their symbols, the mis-shapen, monstrous figures struck him with the same feeling of repulsion as they had done when he first beheld them. The temple itself was not wanting in beauty, though disfigured by the grotesque representations on the walls.

He had not been long alone before he heard a voice behind him, although the silence was unbroken by any sound of footsteps.

"Om," sounded through the stillness; "Om, the unworthy servant of Siva's holy consort greets thee, O Moral Force."

Turning to the spot from whence came the voice, Siddha recognised the Durga priest Gorakh, whom he had seen in company with his uncle at Allahabad. "I greet you, holy man," he said, and awaited what the other should say.

"So, then, we have not forgotten each other since our last meeting,"

replied the priest. "In truth I have not lost sight of you since I saw you in the neighbourhood of Badrinath."

"Let that be as it will," answered Siddha, half impatiently; "but I scarcely comprehend, honoured lord, why you should concern yourself about me."

"Should not," asked the other, "the nephew of my old friend and pupil have claim to the interest I feel in him? and for that reason I feel obliged to give you a warning, if you will take it from me. You know who Gurupada the hermit is, do you not?"

"Gurupada?" asked Siddha. "Certainly; he is a hermit living in the mountains."

"Yes; but I mean who he was before he a.s.sumed his present name."

"Of that I know nothing--he never alluded to it."

"But your guru, Kulluka, must have told you."

"I never asked him; it was nothing to me."

Gorakh turned a penetrating look towards the speaker; but he would have been no true Indian had his countenance displayed ought but utter indifference. However, irritated by the persistence of his questioner, he proceeded, with less caution, to say, "Even if I knew who and what Gurupada had been, can you not understand that I would not tell you?"

"Ha!" cried the Yogi, "you mean you do not trust me. You mean to defy me. Do you remember that I am a friend of the Governor of Allahabad?"

"Yes, I know that," said Siddha, expressing vexation.

"What do you know?"

"I know what I know, and that is enough."

The priest regarded Siddha with anger, not unmingled with disquietude. What was the meaning of this tone, and what could he really know? Still for the moment the wisest course seemed to be to break off the conversation.

"Enough, then," said Gorakh, "both for you and for me; but bethink yourself, my young friend--though you are so little desirous of my friendship, and I will not force it on you,--think that the mighty G.o.ddess, to whose service all my feeble strength is devoted, not only protects but destroys also, and that there is no hope of mercy or chance of salvation for him whom, through her priests, she has chosen out for her service and who has turned from it." So saying, he disappeared down a side aisle, without waiting for any answer to his mysterious menace. Siddha looked after him with an involuntary feeling of anxiety; and though in reality the Durga priest was alone, yet he almost fancied he could see him followed by a long train of naked bronze figures, with white cords round their necks, just as he had seen him in the dimness of night pa.s.sing along the wall of Allahabad fortress and vanishing in the jungle. And that night, as he went to rest, he thought it would be as well to question his faithful servant who awaited his orders.

"Vatsa," he said, "at Allahabad you a.s.sured me that neither you nor Kulluka's servant had spoken to any priest or penitent; but can you not remember some other unknown person to whom you might have talked of our journey through the mountains, and recounted to him some of its incidents?"

"I should never have thought of it again, Sir, if you had not brought it to my mind," replied Vatsa; "but now I remember that near the stable a half-naked, bronze-coloured man once talked with us, and told us much about the town and fortress, and then asked us about our journey."

"And you told him of my adventure with Gurupada's tiger?"

"I believe we did."

"And did you say anything of the hermit and his appearance?"

"Certainly," answered Vatsa. "His venerable and princely bearing had so struck us that we were full of it, and not thinking there was any harm in speaking of it we made no secret of our meeting with him to the stranger."

"Did you describe Gurupada's appearance exactly?"

"I cannot distinctly remember all we said; but I believe we did speak of it."

"There is danger," murmured Siddha to himself, "and more than danger. The priest naturally learnt enough from his spy about our journey to put me out of countenance. His suspicions seem to be aroused as regards Gurupada; and it is clear he tried to find out more from me. But what can he have to do with Gurupada or Nandigupta? And my uncle Salhana--is he also mixed up in this?"

"I hope we have done no harm by our talk with the stranger," said Vatsa, disquieted by seeing his young master sunk in thought.

"No, no," he replied; "and even had you done so, it was done unintentionally, and you are not to blame. We ought to have been more cautious, and to have warned you beforehand. But in future, Vatsa, do not speak to any one of the hermit, whoever it may be that asks you; do you understand?"

"Perfectly, my lord," was the answer; "and in future I have never seen the hermit, or even if I have done so, I have entirely forgotten what he was like."

"Nevertheless," thought Siddha, "it might be as well to warn Kulluka, and even Nandigupta himself. I will try and find a safe opportunity, whether Salhana has anything to do with it, or not."

CHAPTER VI.

SALIM.

"Form quickly," said the commandant of the Rajputs, as he stood in the court of the fortress, while the cavalry fell into rank; "and then march for the field where the Emperor reviews the troops to-day."

This order was obeyed without delay, and, when outside the fortification, they broke into a trot, until they reached a plain, at some little distance from the town, where the review was to be held. A splendid sight lay stretched out before Siddha, as, at the head of his detachment, he ascended a small hill. On the right was a whole town, as it were, of tents; long, broad streets, laid out with the utmost regularity. In the middle stood the imperial tent, made of red cloth, with a gilded dome-shaped roof,--if one might call a palace of cloth and wood a tent; and on the left, brilliant with many colours, were drawn up the different army corps--some hors.e.m.e.n in armour and some without, some armed with lances and some with guns; and there stood the artillery and war elephants; and further off, other elephants with luxurious hauda, on whose cushions were seated ladies, most of them veiled, who had come to see the spectacle.

Soon after the arrival of the Rajputs the troops moved forward, and, preceded by their bands, defiled before the Emperor and his staff. Siddha did not hesitate long before deciding which was the Emperor among that brilliant group of officers, their arms and horse-trappings glittering with gold and jewels. Unmistakable was his whole bearing--a robust man on a splendid white horse, with the commander's staff in his hand, standing a few steps in advance of the others, his standard and umbrella bearer behind him. Instantly Siddha recognised in the mighty ruler the man with whom he had spoken in the gardens of the palace, a suspicion of whose real rank had for a moment crossed his mind.

When his turn came to pa.s.s before the Emperor with his men, he bent his head and pointed his lance to the ground, as he had seen others do; and stealing a glance at the Emperor, saw a smile pa.s.s over his stern features, from which he gathered that Akbar had not taken ill his bold words, and he remembered that excepting a pa.s.sing outburst of anger, his interlocutor had maintained during the whole interview a frank and friendly tone. He came to the conclusion that he had no cause to dread his presentation to the Emperor, which Faizi had warned him would most likely take place after the review. This expectation was soon fulfilled. No sooner had the halt been sounded, a sign that the troops might for a time repose, than Siddha saw Faizi beckon, and on joining him he was guided through tents, the magnificence of which rivalled that of the palace itself; and a few minutes later he found himself in presence of the Emperor. Faizi was not a little surprised at seeing Akbar, without waiting for the official presentation, step forward to meet Siddha, replying to his reverential greeting with a gracious movement of his hand, and say, "Well, I saw you at the head of your troop, and it seems to me that you will turn out a good officer. Take care that my expectations are fulfilled. I have already made acquaintance with your friend," he continued, turning to Faizi; "we met a few days ago, although at the time he had no idea who I was."

"Even had I known it, Sire," said Siddha, respectfully, "I could not have regarded your Majesty with more reverence than I did the unknown stranger."

"But perhaps spoken a little less freely," said Akbar, smiling. "However, there is no harm done, and I had far rather hear what men think of me than guess what they say behind my back. Our former meeting induces me to command, or rather to request, for what I wish cannot be forced, that now you know me, you will trust me as you did when I was a stranger. You see to-day that your confidence was not misplaced. Turn to me, and not to others, when you think that you have cause of complaint against me or mine. I never refuse to hear grievances: if they are groundless I try to refute them; if real, to redress them. Boldness and free speaking, my friend Faizi here can bear witness, never arouse my anger, however much dissimulation and falsehood may do so."

After some questions and replies regarding the particulars of Siddha's service, the Emperor signified that the audience was at an end, and they took their leave, Faizi not a little bewildered about this first meeting, a full account of which his young companion soon gave him.

"You are indeed a child of fortune," said Faizi; "such things do not happen to every one, however easy of access Akbar is, and however willingly he enters into conversation. You seem to have made a favourable impression on him, and that rejoices me from my heart. But do I not see Parviz approaching? Yes, indeed; but what can he be doing here? Well," continued he to his nephew, "what is my lord the future councillor doing here among warriors in their tents?"