Empire of the Moghul: The Tainted Throne (44 page)

He was becoming entangled with another floating body
– that of a dying horse kicking its hooves in its agony. Mahabat Khan dived again, this time beneath the horse, holding his breath and gripping a stone on the river bed to keep himself still while the current carried the animal’s body away. Then he pushed back to the surface and made the mistake of trying to wade out of the river. His foot slipped on a slimy, algae-covered rock and he went under yet again. This time he struck out for the shore using his little skill at swimming. But he was nearly at the bend in the river and the current was decreasing. Using all his diminishing reserves of strength he was able to get himself into the shallows and scramble out, water pouring from his sodden garments and mingling with the blood from the wound in his right arm.

Sitting down on the muddy riverbank he inspected the wound. He could see some creamy fat and red muscle exposed but no bone. God be praised, only a flesh wound. He pulled off the yellow woollen cloth he had been wearing round his neck to stop his breastplate chafing. It was dripping water but using his left hand he managed to wring it out after a fashion and with the help of his teeth tied it roughly round the wound in his right arm. Then he saw the shadow of a rider approaching from behind. He realised he would have little chance if it was one of the imperial soldiers but when he twisted round he saw to his intense relief it was not. One of his own bodyguards had seen him fall into the river and followed him downstream in case he was washed ashore.

‘Are you all right, General?’ the man asked.

‘I think so,’ he said, although in fact he was beginning to shake with cold and shock. ‘Give me your horse,’ he added. He scrambled to his feet only for his knees to buckle, causing
him to collapse once more. The rider dismounted, but before he could get to him Mahabat Khan was on his feet again. This time his knees held and he staggered over to the horse. With a little help from his bodyguard he clambered aboard. His feet were so cold he could barely feel them, but he pushed them clumsily into the stirrups and with a shout of thanks to his bodyguard headed back towards the fighting round the ford. It was no distance and he realised that probably less than a quarter of an hour had elapsed since he was hit and fell into the river. But that was a long time in the course of a battle.

As far as he could make out his men seemed to be gaining the advantage, as they should given their superiority in numbers and the fact that their opponents had had to ford the river under fire. Then he made out Rajesh and rode towards him, shouting out as soon as he was in earshot, ‘What happened to the elephant with the gold howdah?’

‘I was told by one of your bodyguards that soon after you fell into the water one of its
mahouts
toppled from its neck and the remaining one, perhaps wounded, was not able to control the beast properly. It turned back into midstream and the guards lost sight of it.’

‘That was the empress,’ Mahabat Khan blurted out, eyes sweeping the river for any sign of the huge beast or its gold howdah. ‘We must find that elephant. We must know if she lives or dies.’

‘I was abandoned at birth to die and did not. It will take more than you to kill me, Mahabat Khan,’ came a voice from behind him. Mahabat Khan jumped in surprise and turned. Amid the sounds of battle and preoccupied with his scanning of the river he had not heard some of his
bodyguards ride up behind him with a prisoner. There was Mehrunissa, looking unperturbed.

‘I am sorry I did not kill you, Mahabat Khan. I yield to you this time from expediency and not from fear. Now take me to my husband. I have already given orders for my men to surrender. Remember, your victory is only temporary.’

‘Majesty, I am again most grateful to you for your agreement. Rajesh will make an excellent divisional master of horse – much better than Alim Das who was both corrupt and an incompetent judge of horseflesh.’ Mahabat Khan bowed and then turned and left the audience chamber. He was surprised that Jahangir had agreed so easily to Rajesh’s appointment. In truth Rajesh’s knowledge of horses was little better than the previous incumbent’s and he too had a venal streak and might seek to profit from his position. Few officials did not. But at least he was no worse, and the appointment was a fitting reward for one of his most loyal officers.

As he walked towards his luxurious quarters in Srinagar’s Hari Parbat fort, Mahabat Khan mused over the events of the months since his capture of the imperial party. After much thought he had decided that they should continue the journey to Srinagar together. To do so would suggest that that there was nothing unduly untoward as well as
freeing him from questions of how to handle other courtiers and officials if they returned to Agra or Lahore. The Governor of Kashmir was an old army colleague of his and a Persian from Tabriz. On both counts he had thought him likely to be sympathetic and so he had proved, particularly when offered a promotion and expensive presents.

The greatest difficulty he himself had had – and still had – was how to use his newly acquired power; how to make his control anything other than temporary. When he spoke to Jahangir or Mehrunissa they acquiesced in his suggestions. They had only objected when he raised the question of replacing some of their closest attendants or dismissing the remnants of the bodyguard who had accompanied them on their journey to Kashmir. He had agreed to their wishes for appearances’ sake and both attendants and bodyguards remained with them.

Jahangir, however, was in poor health. He ate little but continued to consume opium and alcohol in considerable quantities. Mahabat Khan could see that they were taking their toll on the constitution of a man by now in his fifty-eighth year. In addition to being bleary eyed and scarcely coherent for much of the day, Jahangir was racked with bouts of coughing. Nevertheless he continued to claim that the mountain air of Kashmir would clear his lungs, but to Mahabat Khan the beneficial effect of the beautiful valley seemed slow in taking effect.

The emperor could still, however, surprise Mahabat Khan when, on the occasions he was relatively free from the effect of drugs, he commented wisely on military matters and tartly on the characters and failings of his courtiers and officers. What impressed the Persian most was the emperor’s detailed
knowledge about plants and animals and the other workings of the natural world in general and Kashmir in particular.

Once and only once had Jahangir commented to Mahabat Khan on his present situation. The two men had been riding side by side along the Dal lake, a little ahead of the bodyguards whom Mahabat Khan had thought it prudent to have always accompanying them both, in the case of the emperor to prevent escape and in his own to guard against assassination, when Jahangir had suddenly asked, ‘Have you learned to be careful what you wish for yet, Mahabat Khan? I too wished for unrestrained power when it should not yet have been mine. And then when I obtained it, I found knowing what to do with it even more difficult, never being quite sure whom to trust even amongst those close to me.’

Mahabat Khan winced at the truth of this assertion but Jahangir did not appear to notice and continued, ‘Power corrodes most men. I know it has me, and that is why I’m happy to drift away from it through the opium and alcohol my wife prepares for me. It’s a great comfort to leave decisions to the empress, and now even she is relieved of that burden since you have taken it on yourself. I warn you, power is lonely – or I found it so.’ Jahangir broke off for a moment before going on. ‘Perhaps the time when I acquired it made it more so, for I already felt isolated. I had lost my grandmother Hamida – a great support to me – as well of course as my father . . . though to this day I don’t know whether he loved me – and I soon lost my best friend, my milk-brother Suleiman Beg. I was close to none of my sons, nor my wives. For a while I gloried in my authority, sometimes – I now admit – using it brutally and capriciously. Then I married Mehrunissa. I loved her
and still do. She, I believe, loved me . . . loves me, as well as my power. The more she wanted of it the more I let her have. Was I wrong . . . ?’

Jahangir’s voice had become quieter and more introspective the longer he spoke and finally tailed off as he turned and gazed abstractedly into the middle distance towards the glinting waters of the Dal lake. Mahabat Khan had made no response and had known that none was expected or required.

What of the empress? he wondered. She was habitually present whenever he spoke to Jahangir and had dispensed with any pretence of keeping purdah before him, although otherwise she had reverted to the seclusion of the
haram.
Her eyes frankly met his whenever they met and sometimes the expression in them when she told him that she lay in his power, that she was his to command, had led him to imagine that she might even have dallied with the idea of seducing him as a means of regaining control. She was after all still only in her forties, only a few years older than him, and her flesh had not yet started to sag down her body like wax down a candle as it did so often as women aged or fattened. However he had put the idea of seduction firmly from his mind as fantasy, but still when they met it was he who averted his eyes. When she spoke softly and smiled he usually agreed, almost without thinking, to her requests, such as retaining the remaining members of the bodyguard.

Did she love the emperor? Yes, she probably did. Of course she fed him opium. Of course she enjoyed his power and was not coy about letting people know she wielded it. He had witnessed that on many occasions. However, when she wiped his brow or held the bowl for him to cough into when he was ill, he had seen love on her face. Perhaps her
motives were as mixed as his own. Everything would probably become clearer as they made the long journey back south again to Lahore, which could not be much longer delayed. The nights were becoming chill and autumn was drawing on. By then, too, he would need to decide what to do himself. Although he had planned his capture of the imperial party with care, he realised he had not thought enough about his next steps and had now become almost paralysed by indecision as to how to win new allies and secure a position in power for the long term. Since his arrival in Kashmir he had done little other than to send messages to Asaf Khan for onward transmission to his son-in-law, assuring Khurram of his sons’ good health and good treatment, and of his loyalty to the imperial family in general as well as his understanding of Khurram’s situation in particular. As he mused, Mahabat Khan made up his mind that they would start for the plains in a week.

‘I’ll be sorry to leave Kashmir.’

‘Even though we’ve been prisoners here?’

‘Yes. Nothing can detract from the beauty of the place, and Mahabat Khan has been respectful to us.’

‘That kind of respect costs him nothing. If he had asked you whether you were ready to leave Kashmir that would have been proper respect. Instead he just announced the date politely as if we were his servants.’

‘To be fair to him, we couldn’t have stayed much longer. In another couple of weeks the first snows will begin to fall in the passes.’

‘True. Anyway, despite Mahabat Khan’s presumption I’m
glad we’re leaving. Our plans depend on our returning to the plains.’ Mehrunissa rose and began to mix a little opium with rosewater for her husband. ‘You will remember to remain acquiescent whatever Mahabat Khan requests as we descend from Kashmir, won’t you? As the moment to act grows closer it’s vital we do or say nothing to rouse his suspicion.’

‘Of course. In any case, he asks very little.’

‘And you must be discreet in front of your grandsons. Children are good at hearing things they were not intended to hear and then blurting them out to impress people.’

‘I’ve said nothing.’

‘Good. There’s also the risk that they might deliberately use anything they overhear to persuade Mahabat Khan to send them back to their parents – especially Dara Shukoh. I’ve noticed how he enjoys going about with Mahabat Khan, listening to his stories of battles, and he’s always asking questions.’

‘He’s an intelligent and curious boy. Besides, don’t all children ask questions? I know I did. It’s part of growing up.’

‘Perhaps. But we must be careful, especially now we’re getting nearer to achieving what we want.’

‘Sometimes I wonder if we couldn’t reach some sort of accommodation, some compromise with Mahabat Khan, rather than all this plotting of yours.’

‘You speak as if Mahabat Khan could be trusted. We know nothing about what’s really in his mind.’

‘You don’t think he means us harm?’

‘He gives the appearance of being a decent man and he’s certainly a good general, but never forget that above all
he’s a traitor who has seized power that can only be given by you, not taken. He’s also taken huge risks, which – unless he’s a complete fool – he must realise. If he perceives a danger to himself who knows what he might not be capable of? Besides, my “plots” as you call them go well.’ Mehrunissa shook the opium and rosewater together in a pink bottle, then poured a little, handed it to him and pulled the soft, intricately patterned Kashmir shawl a little tighter around him. Jahangir was coughing more and the air was becoming colder.