Empire of the Moghul: The Tainted Throne (47 page)

With these recollections Khurram realised that his father had loved him and he his father. Tears began to form in his
eyes. He brushed them away as his thoughts turned to Mehrunissa. She had been the cause of his alientation from Jahangir. She was still alive and had two of his sons in her power. In the three weeks since the emperor’s death she had no doubt been planning the next moves for herself and her two creatures, Shahriyar and Ladli. Manipulative, calculating and cold, she would not have spent much time in grieving and nor could he. As Asaf Khan had wisely written, he must act immediately, but first of all he must break the news to Arjumand.

‘No. For the first time in many years we must part,’ Khurram insisted to the stubborn-faced Arjumand. ‘Don’t you see, it isn’t the same as when we went on campaign together for my father or when we fled from his forces? On the first occasion we knew that if we perished my father and your father would care for the children. When we were fleeing they were safest with us. Now that I am splitting our forces and seeking allies it is best that you remain here with them. If you do and if I fail – God forbid I should – they would have you to protect them rather than being left defenceless orphans at the mercy of Mehrunissa.’

Arjumand’s expression lost a little of its stubbornness. ‘I understand your logic and must accept it, but are your other plans as logical? Why split your few resources, and why travel north with so few men yourself?’

‘I thought I’d explained – because I do not know who else may claim the throne and hence where the greatest threats may lie. I need to undertake several tasks simultaneously. I have to assemble as many men as I can as quickly
as I can. The best way of doing that is to send out detachments of troops under trusted officers to raise them from among my friends and supporters. You know that I’ve already sent Mohun Singh to try to locate Mahabat Khan. The Persian general is a sensible and pragmatic man. He will know that allying himself with me will offer his best chance of restoring his battered fortunes. I also need to send out strong bodies of scouts as well as spies. I cannot allow your father – good man though he is – to be our only eyes and ears. Finally, to take speedy advantage of developments I need to make the quickest and most inconspicuous progress I can towards Agra, leaving my main forces to follow when sufficient men are assembled.’

‘Yes, but how are you going to make yourself inconspicuous?’

‘That I haven’t decided. It’s difficult to conceal even a small force and I’m sure Mehrunissa will have spies out.’

‘Then why not disguise it rather than conceal it?’

‘How?’

‘As a merchant’s caravan, perhaps?’

‘No. In these troubled times any enemy will investigate a caravan, ransack it and even steal from it. But you’re right. Disguise is a good idea. I’ll think of something.’

‘Whose coffin is this?’ Khurram heard a male voice say as he lay in the stifling midday heat in a velvet-lined silver coffin on a black-brocade-draped bier pulled by sixteen white oxen. He longed to scratch a clutch of day-old mosquito bites on his left knuckle and move his right leg, which was beginning to grow numb, but he knew he mustn’t
do anything that might shake the coffin and betray that the occupant lived. Despite the sandalwood essence with which the cloth wound round his face and mouth had been impregnated, the smell of the ten-day-old piece of meat placed in the coffin with him to give an authentic stench of decay was overpowering. He had climbed into the coffin at the first sight of the approach, amid a cloud of billowing red dust, of a group of horsemen from the great crenellated fortress of Rotgarh. The fort stood atop a craggy promontory that dominated the arid landscape and the road northwest to Agra, and was the stronghold of Wasim Gul, one of Mehrunissa’s most stalwart supporters.

It had in fact been Arjumand, not he, who had come up with the idea of a funeral cortège supposedly bearing the body of an officer who had died in the Deccan homeward for burial as a disguise for his force, suggesting that it was the least likely column to be subjected to close scrutiny. It was she, too, who had proposed the refinement of the decaying meat. He, however, had devised another deception: just as his great-grandmother Hamida had prevented news of her husband Humayun’s death from leaking out while she gathered support for Akbar by having a man similar in height and build impersonate him, Khurram had designated a trusted officer to dress in his clothes and be seen entering and leaving the private areas of the Burhanpur fortress to give the illusion that he had not yet departed for the north.

All had gone to plan with the ruse of the cortège up to this point. He had only had to use the coffin twice, and on both occasions those approaching had veered off as soon as they saw the sombre nature of the procession. This officer of Wasim Gul’s seemed to be different, though, Khurram
thought as he struggled to suppress a sudden desire to sneeze. He had already heard him give orders to his men to check some of the baggage carts. It was a good job his extra muskets and powder were either concealed deep beneath animal fodder or in the false bottoms of some of the wagons. Even so a diligent inspection might find them, he thought, as his heart began to beat yet faster.

‘It is the body of Hassan Khan – an officer in Prince Khurram’s army and a cousin of the ruler of Multan – which we his loyal followers are transporting back to Peshawar for burial in his homeland,’ Khurram heard one of his own men reply to the newcomer. ‘We are fulfilling his final request, made in the last coherent words he spoke as he lay in his tent sweat soaked and dying of the spotted fever.’ Khurram could almost hear the inquisitive officer’s intake of breath. It was an inspired idea to mention spotted fever. It was so deadly and spread so quickly that no one ever wanted to stay close to a sufferer or a corpse. After a few moments he heard the voice of Wasim Gul’s officer, already a little further off, say, ‘Although he supported a traitor, nevertheless may he rest in Paradise. You may proceed.’

Khurram smiled with satisfaction as two weeks later he looked around his growing council of advisers in his scarlet command tent fifty miles southeast of Agra. Soon after he had left the territory of Wasim Gul he had abandoned the pretence that his small column was a funeral cortège. Three days ago he had been joined by another large detachment of his troops, including a number of war elephants, who had travelled from Burhanpur under the command of Kamran
Iqbal by a more circuitous route to confuse any lurking spies or scouts. Additionally, many commanders of imperial forces in the areas he had passed through, as well as some of the local vassal rulers, had pledged allegiance to him and joined him with their men. His army now numbered almost fifteen thousand and was well equipped and supplied.

‘What do we know of the latest movements of Shahriyar, Ladli and Mehrunissa?’ he asked.

‘According to our spies, since Shahriyar had himself declared emperor in Lahore a month ago he has remained there with his wife and mother-in-law simply sending out emissaries to seek allies,’ Kamran Iqbal responded.

‘And Mahabat Khan?’

‘The latest message from Mohun Singh says that he is riding with Mahabat Khan and his men to meet your father-in-law Asaf Khan and his troops. He insists there is scarcely any more reason to doubt Mahabat Khan’s pledge of allegiance to you than there is that of Asaf Khan himself.’

‘Good. Let’s hope Mohun Singh is right and that Mahabat Khan has learned not to meddle in politics. He should be wise enough to know that if he wishes to recover a position within the Moghul empire I am his best hope. He can have little expectation of reconciliation with Mehrunissa.’

‘Mohun Singh is certain Mahabat Khan is loyal by nature and only his treatment by Mehrunissa drove him to rebellion.’

‘We will still keep an eye on him when he joins us with Asaf Khan. When can we expect that to be?’

‘Perhaps in three or four weeks, allowing them time to recruit more men as they ride. Mahabat Khan in particular has sent messengers to Rajasthan to recall some of his old
comrades as well as to recruit new men from that crucible of warriors.’

‘Well, that leaves us only Khusrau, doesn’t it? Does he still seem intent on making a bid for the throne?’

‘Yes. Even though our reports say that his
hakims
’ attempts to unstitch his eyelids and restore his sight have been only partially successful, clearly he has not lost his ability to persuade others to his side. He has won over the Governor of Gwalior, where he was confined for so long, and many of the local commanders, and has had himself proclaimed emperor for the third time.’

‘And he will be unsuccessful for a third time,’ said Khurram. Why did Khusrau persist in such an impossible ambition? Why couldn’t he be content to enjoy what renewed sight he had and the love of his faithful wife Jani who had shared his long years of imprisonment? Why must he set out to oppose me, Khurram thought to himself, biting his lip before asking, ‘How many men has he succeeded in recruiting?’

‘Perhaps ten thousand – some of them the sons and brothers of those who died in his previous rebellions against your father. They have raided the treasuries and armouries of Gwalior and so are well supplied and armed.’

‘Are they still heading for Agra?’

‘Yes. Our scouts tell us they are about twenty-five miles west of us and about forty miles from Agra.’

‘Given that Shahriyar has made no move from Lahore and we would be wise to await Mahabat Khan and Asaf Khan and the reinforcements they bring before tackling him there, I suggest that first we put paid to Khusrau’s ambitions once and for all. If we leave most of the baggage train here, can we overtake him and bring him to battle before he reaches Agra?’

‘Yes. According to the scouts he’s making no more than eight miles a day, probably hoping to rally more support before he approaches Agra. The terrain separating us from his army is mostly flat with no major rivers, so we could catch him in forty-eight hours, even if we take war elephants as well as horsemen and mounted musketeers and archers.’

‘Well then, let’s do it. Make sure you leave sufficient forces here to defend the baggage train and heavy cannon, and give the necessary orders immediately.’