He suspected it would not be an easy task. Yasaman, overly protected by them all, was not really ready for marriage. And Salim would have to be sent away, lest he make some attempt to thwart his father’s plans for his sister. Akbar had no fear that Prince Jamal would not consent to the match. At twenty-three the young man would fully understand the great opportunity being offered to him. He was intelligent, if his father was to be believed.
The prince would have surprised his overlord greatly if Akbar had been privy to the conversation between Yusef Khan and
his son later that morning. Kashmir’s former ruler had been rowed across Wular Lake to his son’s palace. There he found Jamal Khan having a late morning meal upon the terrace. Yusef Khan forced himself to move slowly, with the dignity expected of his station.
“Dismiss your servants,” he ordered Jamal Khan, and when they were finally alone, he said, “The Mughal wants you as husband for his youngest daughter!” His voice was pitched higher with his excitement than it normally would have been.
“No,” said the prince, and helped himself to a bowl of pomelos that had been peeled and sectioned.
“
No?
” His father looked astounded.
“No,” Jamal Khan repeated, and popped a piece of the juicy fruit into his mouth.
“
Why?
” demanded Yusef Khan. “Have you fallen in love with another woman?”
“There is no woman who claims my heart,” Jamal Khan told his father, “but I am not of a mind to marry the daughter of the man who stripped my family of its inheritance—the man for whom you go to war, not in your own interest, my father, or in that of Kashmir’s, but in the interest of the Mughal Empire.”
“Listen to me, Jamal, my son. I have never admitted this aloud to a living soul, although it has eaten at my heart these many years. I dishonored the name of this family, may Allah forgive me. In the year in which you were born, my father, Ali Khan Chak, died. My uncle, Abdal Khan, sought to usurp me. I fled to the Mughal court to seek the emperor’s help; and he gave it to me because I swore that once I regained Kashmir, I would be his most loyal vassal.
“So I was restored to my throne, my uncle driven away, but I did not do Akbar the homage I had promised him. He sent for me several times, and although I promised I would come, I did not; nor did I have any intention of coming. I believed Kashmir too far from the Mughal court for Akbar to be further bothered with us; but he persisted.
“Finally I sent your brother Haider to the Mughal court, but the emperor, who was now in Panjab and practically at our back door, summoned me once again. This time I sent your eldest brother, Yaqub, but it was still not enough. Yaqub fled the emperor’s court without his permission. Akbar had frightened him by venting his outrage at my behavior before him. The emperor then sent an army to Kashmir, and we lost our lands.
Perhaps my eventual obeisance would have restored our family’s fortunes, but your brother Yaqub spent several years rebelling and fighting with the Mughals, to atone, he believed, for his former cowardice. They sent a harsh governor to rule over us in retaliation. You surely remember how hard a time that was.
“All of this came about because of my dishonorable actions. I had given my word to Akbar that I would accept him as my overlord. I broke that word. Now, however, our family has the opportunity to regain what was once ours. Akbar has said plainly that if this marriage is a successful one, he will appoint you to govern Kashmir in his name.”
“But what if this match you two old men propose is not happy, my father? What then? Must I spend the rest of my life dancing attendance upon some spoilt Mughal princess so that Kashmir be ours once more? Let my brother Yaqub, who was once your rightful heir, or my middle brother Haider, marry the girl and regain Kashmir for us.”
“The emperor wants you, Jamal. He did not ask for one of my other sons. He named you specifically. Besides, both Yaqub and Haider are too old for her and have grown children. Yasaman Kama Begum must be her husband’s first consort, and the mother of his heir,” his father told him firmly.
“I am unhappy to disappoint you, my father, for I honor you above all men,” Jamal Khan replied.
“You will not disappoint me, my son,” Yusef Khan replied calmly. “You will remember how well I did my duty twenty-four years ago when I married the daughter of one of my minor officials who was dying, as the poor girl had no family to care for her.”
The prince flushed at this mention of his mother’s marriage.
“I did not need another wife, my son, but my duty bid me to honor a dying man’s wish. To my surprise, your mother proved a delightful companion, and then she bore me you. I did not really need another son, Jamal, nor would you be here this day had I not honored my obligations. Not honoring another obligation cost me Kashmir. Be reasonable, my son. You must have a wife. It is past time for you to settle down and give me grandchildren.
An Imperial Mughal princess!
Think on it, Jamal! You will have an Imperial Mughal princess for your wife.”
“I am thinking on it, Father. It fills me with dread. What if this girl is ugly? Or bad-tempered? Or worst of all, stupid? I
cannot be a stud for the emperor’s favorite little mare, even for Kashmir! What am I to do if we do not like each other?”
“You will do what all men in that position do, my son,” Yusef Khan told him wisely. “You will make a compromise with yourself. You will be mannerly and gallant to your wife, and once you have produced a son or two, you will take another wife; always remembering to honor the good woman who is the mother of your heirs. It is not necessary to like a woman to couple with her. I have never particularly liked Yaqub’s mother, but I have always honored her with my respect.”
“I want to love my wife,” Jamal Khan stubbornly told his father.
“You are a true Kashmiri romantic, my son,” was his father’s smiling reply. “Do not despair over this marriage, Jamal. I have never heard anyone say a bad word about the princess. Indeed, I am told she rewarded a local fisherman with exclusive rights to fish the waters by her palace because he saved her cat from drowning. A selfish or spoiled girl would not have done such a thing. It shows thoughtfulness on her part. It is very possible that you will learn to love your bride.
“While you are thinking of what all of this will mean for you, Jamal, think of Yasaman Kama Begum. She is not, from what I have heard, a stupid girl who will blindly accept a marriage to just anyone. Do you not believe her doubts and fears over this marriage are similar to yours? A marriage is between two people, and can only be successful if they both want it to be. Nor is one person alone responsible for the happiness or the tragedy that befalls a marriage. I think your women have spoiled you into believing you are a special fellow,” Yusef Khan concluded.
“I really have no choice, have I, Father? I must give my consent to this match,” the prince said gloomily.
Yusef Khan nodded. “You must, but it is not, I suspect, a fate worse than death, Jamal. I will send to my lord Akbar immediately. Together you and I will visit the palace. Shall we decide now what presents will be part of the sachaq? I realize this is my responsibility as the father of the bridegroom, but I thought perhaps you would like to have a hand in selecting the articles we will send to Yasaman Kama Begum.”
“The princess follows Islam?” Jamal Khan was surprised. “So many of the Mughal’s wives are Rajput that I assumed this princess would be also.”
“There is some mystery about Yasaman Kama Begum’s mother. She has been raised by the lady Rugaiya Begum, the Mughal’s first wife, who is of Islam, so I assume the girl follows the Prophet’s way. I do not think my lord Akbar would object if you asked him about the princess’s true mother, my son. He will understand you seek to learn about your bride’s heritage so you may understand her.”
Yusef Khan dispatched a messenger to the palace with the news that the prince Jamal Darya Khan had given his consent to a marriage between himself and Yasaman Kama Begum. The messenger returned with an answer. The emperor would see Yusef Khan and his son late that afternoon. Together father and son began the process of selecting betrothal gifts for the royal bride.
Akbar was elated to receive the consent of the Kashmiri prince—not that he thought for a moment that the young man would not give his consent. No man in his right mind would dare to refuse the Grand Mughal’s daughter as a wife. Akbar called for his horse and, with his bodyguard beside him, rode back to his daughter’s palace, which was but two miles distant.
Rugaiya Begum greeted him, looking distressed. “Salim is here, and he is with Yasaman,” she told her husband.
“They are not alone?” Akbar replied anxiously.
“No. Rohana and Toramalli have been given strict instructions,” she said.
Akbar put a comforting arm about Rugaiya Begum. “Jamal Khan has given his consent to a marriage between himself and Yasaman. We must now gain Yasaman’s consent, and quickly! Take me to her, my dear.”
“What will you do, my lord?”
“Wait and see, Rugaiya, and do not be surprised by anything I do. Salim thinks he is ready to step into my boots, but I am a far better tactician than he will ever be, though I am old and ill.” The emperor followed his wife through the little marble palace and out onto the wide terrace that faced the lake. There he saw his son and daughter seated upon a couch, their dark heads together as if they were plotting some mischief. “My children,” his voice boomed out genially, as always.
“Papa!” Yasaman pulled away from her brother and, rising, ran to kiss her father.
“Good day, my rosebud!” Akbar said gaily. “I bring you the most wonderful news!”
“Father.” Salim arose, quickly wiping the surprise from his features, but not before Akbar had seen it. Coming to his father, he knelt, putting the emperor’s foot on his head as a sign of homage.
“Shaikho Baba, my beloved son!” Akbar said, and, bending, lifted his son up and kissed him upon both cheeks. “It is good to see you. Your mother told me that you were here. Why did you not join us last night for your sister’s birthday celebration?”
“Forgive me, Father, but I was not certain how I would be received by you. I did not wish to spoil Yasaman’s birthday,” Salim answered honestly.
“I have pardoned you, Shaikho Baba, and what is past is past,” Akbar replied, sounding, to Rugaiya’s surprise, as if he actually meant it. “I am glad you are here because I have wonderful news for Yasaman. You are to be married, my daughter! I have found you a lusty young prince to be your bridegroom. What think you of that, my rosebud?”
I am to be married! They have found me a prince!
For a moment her heart soared with delight, and then Yasaman grew afraid. “What if the prince doesn’t like me, Papa?” she said.
“How can he not love you, my darling?” her father reassured her. “Even now his heart is beating faster with the knowledge that you will soon be his; and I know that he, too, is wondering if you will love him. He is a young man, Yasaman, and you will be his first consort. The mother of his sons. Will you give your consent to this match, my daughter? You will be so happy, I promise you!”
“Who is this prince?” Salim demanded, unable to keep the jealousy from his voice. Yasaman could not marry.
She was his!
“He is Yusef Khan’s youngest son, Jamal Darya Khan, Shaikho Baba. When he weds with Yasaman, I shall give them Kashmir to rule in my name and yours. What think you of that, my son? I have secured our northern flank most effectively for generations to come. I can attain security and happiness for both my beloved children with one stroke. Tell your sister she must give her consent, for I know how she values your opinion, Shaikho Baba. This handsome man will make her very happy.”
Salim felt the rage welling up within him, and for a moment he actually saw a red haze before his eyes, so great was his anger. Yasaman!
His Yasaman!
She was being taken away from
him! He wanted to shriek with frustration, but he could not. The marriage would make no difference between them. When his father died, Yasaman would be his, and no one, not even a Kashmiri prince, would prevent it.
With a supreme effort he forced his fury back deep within his soul, and smiling at his sister, said, “This is a fine thing our father has done for you, little monkey! By all means accept this prince for a husband. When I think on it myself, I can think of no prince better suited to you. You love Kashmir, and now it will be yours. You will remain here forever, which I know will please you, with your dislike of our dusty plains and hot summer weather.”
Her nerves made her hesitate. She begged her brother once more, “Are you certain I should accept this marriage, Salim?” Her heart-shaped face looked up at him anxiously.
“Of course he thinks you should,” Akbar said jovially, “don’t you, Shaikho Baba?”
“Yes, of course you should accept,” Salim said heartily through gritted teeth. His lips were turned up in a smile, but his eyes hid his angry thoughts. Somehow, he realized, his father had maneuvered him like a puppet to cooperate in this business. He had had no other choice. Helplessly he swallowed his fury.
“I am so happy for you, my daughter,” Rugaiya Begum said, adding her voice to the discussion. Yasaman turned, and Rugaiya’s heart cried out to her child.
“Mama Begum, oh please tell me what I should do.”
Rugaiya Begum shook her head. “My daughter, this decision must be yours alone. Remember, however, that it is a woman’s fate to marry. Your father has chosen a mate for you whom he believes will make you happy. I knew Prince Jamal’s mother briefly in the years before her death. This young man loved and honored that lady. He is good-hearted. I believe him to be a perfect husband for you.”
“I know you would not lie to me, and so I will accept this prince for a husband; but I need to have you near me. Will you stay here in Kashmir with me, Mama Begum?” Yasaman begged.
Rugaiya Begum cast Akbar a look that plainly told him she would acquiesce to her daughter’s request; and then she said, “Do you think I intend being in Lahore and Agra when my grandchildren are in Kashmir? Of course I will remain here, Yasaman!”