The Moghul Part 52

Prince Jadar pa.s.sed the signal to the waiting guards as he strode briskly down the stone-floored hallway and they nodded imperceptibly in acknowledgment. There was no sound in the torch-lit corridor save the pad of his leather-soled riding slippers.

It was the beginning of the third _pahar_, midday, and he had come directly from the hunt when the runner brought word that Mumtaz had entered labor. It would have been unseemly to have gone to her side, so he had spoken briefly with the _dai_, midwife. He had overruled the Hindu woman's suggestion that Mumtaz be made to give birth squatting by a bed, so that a broom could be pressed against her abdomen as the midwife rubbed her back. It was, he knew, the barbarous practice of unbelievers, and he cursed himself for taking on the woman in the first place. It had been a symbolic gesture for the Hindu troops, to quell concern that all the important details attending the birth would be Muslim. Jadar had insisted that Mumtaz be moved to a velvet mat on the floor of her room and carefully positioned with her head north and her feet south. In case she should die in childbirth--and he fervently prayed she would not--this was the position in which she would be buried, her face directed toward Mecca. He had ordered all cannon of the fort primed with powder, to be fired in the traditional Muslim salute if a male child was the issue.

Preparations also were underway for the naming ceremony. He had prayed for many days that this time a son would be named. There were two daughters already, and yet another would merely mean one more intriguing woman to be locked away forever, for he knew he could never allow a daughter to marry. The complications of yet another aspiring family in the palace circle were inconceivable. The scheming Persian Shi'ites, like the queen and her family, who had descended on Agra would like nothing better than another opportunity to use marriage to dilute the influence of Sunni Muslims at court.

Allah, this time it has to be a son. Hasn't everything possible been done? And if Akman was right, that a change of residence during the term ensures a male heir, then I'll have a son twelve times over from this birthing. She's been in a dozen cities. And camps. I even tested the augury of the Hindus and had a household snake killed and tossed in the air by one of their Brahmin unbelievers, to see how it would land.

And it landed on its back, which they say augurs a boy. Also, the milk squeezed from her b.r.e.a.s.t.s three days ago was thin, which the Hindus believe foretells a son.

Still, the omens have been mixed. _The eclipse_. Why did it come a day earlier than the Hindu astrologers had predicted? Now I realize it was exactly seven days before the birth. No one can recall when they failed to compute an eclipse correctly.

What did it mean? That my line will die out? Or that a son will be born here who will one day overshadow me?

Who can know the future? What Allah wills must be.

And, he told himself, the meeting set for the third _pahar_ must still take place, regardless of the birth. Unless he did what he had planned, the birth would be meaningless. All the years of planning now could be forfeited in this single campaign.

If I fail now, what will happen to the legacy of Akman, his great work to unify India? Will India return to warring fiefdoms, neighbor pitted against neighbor, or fall to the Shi'ites? The very air around me hints of treachery.

With that thought he momentarily inspected the placement of his personal crest on the thick wooden door of the fortress reception hall and pushed it wide. A phalanx of guards trailed behind him into the room, which he had claimed as his command post for the duration of his stay in Burhanpur. The immense central carpet had been freshly garlanded around the edges with flowers.

The fortress, the only secure post remaining in the city, had been commandeered by Jadar and his hand-picked guard. His officers had taken accommodations in the town, and the troops had erected an enormous tent complex along the road leading into the city from the north. Their women now swarmed over the bazaar, acc.u.mulating stores for the march south. Bullock carts of fresh produce glutted the roads leading into the city, for word had reached the surrounding villages that Burhanpur was host to the retinue of the prince and his soldiers from the north-- buyers accustomed to high northern prices. The villagers also knew from long experience that a wise man would strip his fields and gardens and orchards now and sell, before an army on the march simply took what it wanted.

Rumors had already reached the city that the army of Malik Ambar, Abyssinian leader of the Deccanis, was marching north toward Burhanpur with eighty thousand infantry and hors.e.m.e.n. An advance contingent was already encamped no more than ten _kos_ south of the city.

Jadar inspected the reception room until he was certain

it was secure, with every doorway under command of his men. Then he signaled the leader of the Rajput guard, who relayed a message to a courier waiting outside. Finally he settled himself against an immense velvet bolster, relishing this moment of quiet to clear his mind.

The Deccan, the central plains of India. Will they ever be ours? How many more campaigns must there be?

He recalled with chagrin all the humiliations dealt Arangbar by the Deccanis.

When Arangbar took the throne at Akman's death, he had announced he would continue his father's policy of military control of the Deccan. A general named Ghulam Adl had requested, and received, confirmation of his existing post of Khan Khanan, "Khan of Khans," the supreme commander of the Moghul armies in the south. To subdue the Deccan once and for all, Arangbar had sent an additional twelve thousand cavalry south and had given Ghulam Adl a million rupees to refurbish his army.

But in spite of these forces, the Abyssinian Malik Ambar soon had set up a rebel capital at Ahmadnagar and declared himself prime minister.

In disgust Arangbar had taken the command from Ghulam Adl and given it to his own son, the second oldest, Parwaz. This dissolute prince marched south with great pomp. Once there he set up an extravagant military headquarters, a royal court in miniature, and spent several years drinking and bragging of his inevitable victory. Ghulam Adl had watched this with growing resentment, and finally he succ.u.mbed to bribes by Malik Ambar and retreated with his own army.

In anger Arangbar then appointed two other generals to march on the Deccan, one from the north and one from the West, hoping to trap Malik Ambar in a pincer. But the Abyssinian deftly kept them apart, and badly defeated each in turn. Eventually both were driven back to the north, with heavy losses.

This time, on the advice of Queen Janahara, Arangbar transferred his son Parwaz out of the Deccan, to Allahbad, and in his place sent Prince Jadar. The younger prince had marched on the Deccan with forty thousand additional troops to supplement the existing forces.

When Jadar and his ma.s.sive army reached Burhanpur, Malik Ambar wisely proposed a truce and negotiations. He returned the fort at Ahmadnagar to the Moghul and withdrew his troops. Arangbar was jubilant and rewarded Jadar with sixteen _lakhs_ of rupees and a prize diamond.

Triumphant, Jadar had returned to Agra and begun to think of becoming the next Moghul. That had been three long years ago.

But Malik Ambar had the cunning of a jackal, and his "surrender" had been merely a ruse to remove the Moghul troops again to the north. This year he had waited for the monsoon, when conventional armies could not move rapidly, and again risen in rebellion, easily driving Ghulam Adl's army north from Ahmadnagar, reclaiming the city, and laying siege to its Moghul garrison. The despairing Arangbar again appealed to Jadar to lead troops south to relieve the permanent forces of Ghulam Adl. After demanding and receiving a substantial increase in _mansab _rank and personal cavalry, Jadar had agreed.

The wide wooden door of the reception hall opened and Ghulam Adl strode regally into the room, wearing a gold- braided turban with a feather and a great sword at his belt. His beard was longer than Jadar had remembered, and now it had been reddened with henna--perhaps, Jadar thought, to hide the gray. But his deep-set eyes were still haughty and self-a.s.sured, and his swagger seemed to belie reports he had barely escaped with his life from the besieged fortress at Ahmadnagar only five weeks before.

Ghulam Adl's gaze quickly swept the room, but his eyes betrayed no notice of the exceptional size of Jadar's guard. With an immense show of dignity he nodded a perfunctory bow, hands clasped at the sparkling jewel of his turban.

"Salaam, Highness. May Allah lay His hand on both our swords and temper them once more with fire." He seated himself easily, as he might with an equal, and when no servant came forward, he poured himself a gla.s.s of wine from the decanter that waited on the carpet beside his bolster.

Is there anything, he wondered, I despise more than these presumptuous young princes from Agra? "I rejoice your journey was swift. You've arrived in time to witness my army savage the Abyssinian unbeliever and his rabble."

"How many troops are left?" Jadar seemed not to hear the boast.

"Waiting are fifty thousand men, Highness, and twenty thousand horse, ready to tender their lives at my command." Ghulam Adl delicately shielded his beard as he drank off the gla.s.s of wine and--when again no servant appeared-- poured himself another.

Jadar remained expressionless.

"My reports give you only five thousand men left, most _chelas_.

Chelas, from the Hindu slang for "slave," was a reference to the mercenary troops, taken in childhood and raised in the camp, that commanders maintained as a kernel of their forces. Unlike soldiers from the villages, they were loyal even in misfortune, because they literally had no place to return to. "What troops do you have from the _mansabdars_, who've been granted stipends from their _jagir_ estate revenue to maintain men and horse?"

"Those were the ones I mean, Highness." Ghulam Adl's hand trembled slightly as he again lifted the winegla.s.s. "The _mansabdars_ have a.s.sured me we have only to sound the call, and their men will muster.

In due time."

"Then pay is not in arrears for their men and cavalry."

"Highness, it's well known pay must always be in arrears. How else are men's loyalties to be guaranteed? A commander foolish enough to pay his troops on time will lose them at the slightest setback, since they have no reason to remain with him in adversity." Ghulam Adl eased his winegla.s.s on the carpet and bent forward. "I concede some of the _mansabdars_ may have allowed matters of pay to slip longer than is wise. But they a.s.sure me that when the time is right their men will muster nonetheless."

"Then why not call the muster? In another twenty days Ambar's troops will be encamped at our doorstep. He could well control all lands south of the Narbada River."

And that, Ghulam Adl smiled to himself, is precisely the plan.

He thought of the arrangement that had been worked out. Jadar was to be kept in Burhanpur for another three weeks, delayed by any means possible. By then Malik Ambar would have the city surrounded, all access cut off. The Imperial troops would be isolated and demoralized.

No troops would be forthcoming from the _mansabdars_. Only promises of troops. Cut off from Agra and provisions, Jadar would have no choice but to sign a treaty. The paper had already been prepared. Malik Ambar would rule the Deccan from his new capital at Ahmadnagar, and Ghulam Adl would be appointed governor of all provinces north from Ahmadnagar to the Narbada River. With their combined troops holding the borders, no Moghul army could ever again challenge the Deccan. Ghulam Adl knew the _mansabdars_ would support him, because he had offered to cut their taxes in half. He had neglected to specify for how long.

"I respectfully submit the time for muster is premature, Highness.

Crops are not yet in. The revenues of the _mansabdars'_ _jagir_ estates will suffer if men are called now." Ghulam Adl shifted uncomfortably.

"They'll have no revenues at all if they don't muster immediately. I'll confiscate the _jagir_ of any _mansabdar_ who has not mustered his men and cavalry within seven days." Jadar watched Ghulam Adl's throat muscles tense, and he asked himself if a _jagir_ granted by the Moghul could be legally confiscated. Probably not. But the threat would serve to reveal loyalties, and reveal them quickly.

"But there's no possible way to pay the men now, Highness." Ghulam Adl easily retained his poise. Hold firm and this aspiring young upstart will waver and then agree. Give him numbers. First make it sound hopeless, then show him a way he can still win. "There's not enough silver in all the Deccan. Let me give you some idea of the problem.

a.s.sume it would require a year's back pay to muster the troops, not unreasonable since most of the _mansabdars_ are at least two years behind now. The usual yearly allowance for cavalry here is three hundred rupees for a Muslim and two hundred and forty for a Hindu. You will certainly need to raise a minimum of thirty thousand men from the _mansabdars_. a.s.suming some loyal troops might possibly muster on notes of promise, you'd still need almost fifty _lakhs_ of rupees. An impossible sum. It's clear the _mansabdars_ won't have the revenues to pay their men until the fall crops are harvested."

"Then I'll confiscate their _jagirs_ now and pay the troops myself. And deduct the sum from their next revenues."

"That's impossible. The money is nowhere to be found." Ghulam Adl realized with relief that Jadar was bluffing; the prince could not possibly raise the money needed. He shifted closer and smiled warmly.

"But listen carefully. If we wait but two months, everything will be changed. Then it'll be simple to squeeze the revenue from the _mansabdars_, and we can pay the men ourselves if we need. Until then we can easily contain the Abyssinian and his rabble. Perhaps we could raise a few men and horse from the _mansabdars_ now, but frankly I advise against it. Why trouble them yet? With the troops we have we can keep Malik Ambar diverted for weeks, months even. Then when the time is right we sound the call, march south with our combined forces, and drive him into the southern jungles forever."

But that call will raise no men, Ghulam Adl told himself, not a single wagon driver. It has been agreed. "We'll wait a few weeks until Ambar has his supply lines extended. Then we'll begin to hara.s.s him. In no time he'll begin to fall back to Ahmadnagar to wait for winter. And by that time we'll have our full strength. We'll march in force and crush him. I'll lead the men personally. You need never leave Burhanpur, Highness." He took another sip of wine. "Though I daresay its pleasures must seem rustic for one accustomed to the more luxurious diversions of Agra."

Jadar examined the commander and a slight, knowing smile played across his lips. "Let me propose a slight alternative." He began evenly. "I will lead the army this time, and you will remain here at the fortress.

I called you here today to notify you that as of this moment you are relieved of your command and confined to the fort." Jadar watched Ghulam Adl stiffen and his sly grin freeze on his face. "I will a.s.semble the army myself and march south in ten days."

"This is a weak jest, Highness." Ghulam Adl tried to laugh. "No one knows the Deccan the way I and my commanders know it. The terrain is treacherous."

"Your knowledge of the terrain admittedly is excellent. You and your commanders have retreated the length of the Deccan year after year.