Swords From the Desert (38 page)

"Hast thou strength to sit in the saddle?" I asked Man Singh, and his lips drew back from his white teeth in the snarl of a wounded leopard.

"As long and as far as need be," he growled, "so it be to Mahabat Khan."

Jami pricked up his ears and ran to ask the soldiers where the camp of the khan might be, then scampered back to plead for haste. What was Ito do? To leave the Rao lying by the roadside were unkind, since I bestrode the horse that was his gift and had shared his salt. And I doubted whether he could sit in the saddle without help. Jami swore by his gods that the tent of the khan was no more than an hour's ride. I lifted Man Singh into the saddle of the Tatar horse, shifting the load of the pony to make room for myself. When his eye fell upon the animal with the king's brand, he shivered again and again.

Gripping the rein with numbed fingers, swaying from side to side, he followed us. And Jami, running by my stirrup, whispered the reason of this happening.

Where he had his knowledge only the beggars of the highway could say, but he said that Mahabat Khan in some way had displeased NurMahal, the favorite wife of Jahangir, the king. The khan had been ordered back from Bengal. Reaching Lahore, he had sent his cousin, Man Singh, to plead for the favor of the king, that he had so long enjoyed.

Evidently Man Singh had risen from his sickbed to go to the court. And beyond any doubt he had been bastinadoed and bound to the back of a horse. Since the horse bore the Mogul's brand, this must have been done by command of the Mogul, but why and for what reason Jami knew not. And even Jami dared not ask Man Singh the reason of his disgrace.

It was three hours later and the sun was setting when we rode into an encampment in a broad meadow. Pavilions and round tents stood in orderly fashion between lines of picketed horses, and at the gate of each section of the camp standards fluttered.

Mounted warriors, coming in from hunting or games, beheld us with astonishment, and many reined after us-excellent riders, wearing small, knotted turbans with long ends and clad from thighs to wrists in silvered mail. They took the rein of Man Singh's mount and held him by the arms, but he said no word.

"They are Rajputs," Jami whispered to me, "of his command."

In the center of the camp we halted at the tent with the main standard before it, and here Mahabat Khan sat on a red cloth, eating fruit and talking with chieftains. Jaini hid himself behind my horse when the khan looked up and saw the Rao.

He looked for a long moment, Man Singh speaking no word. Other chieftains who had hastened up gazed at the twain, waiting for what would follow.

Then Mahabat Khan sprang up, his lean face darkening with a rush of blood. He strode to his cousin, who was trying vainly to dismount. Taking him bodily in his arms, Mahabat Khan bore him to his own place and lowered him gently to the ground, kneeling to do so, and then stood with folded arms before the injured man.

"I cannot stand," said Man Singh, and touched the bloody bandages upon his feet.

"I do not ask it," responded Mahabat Khan quickly. "Only tell me which of Jahangir's emirs hath dealt with thee thus, and by the threefold oath I swear-"

Man Singh threw up his hand.

"Do not swear. It was done by command of Jahangir the Mogul-the bastinado, and-" he gripped his beard with writhing fingers-"the binding upon a horse's rump."

The officers about them fell silent, so intent on every word that no one thought of us. Mahabat Khan held his head higher and breathed deep through his nostrils.

"By command of Jahangir! If another had said that-"

"By now it is known between the rivers."

Mahabat Khan nodded grimly. By his lean cheeks and the corded muscles of his restless hands, by the way he met the glances of the other officers, swiftly and squarely, I judged him a man who loved deeds better than talk, who was prone to rashness rather than caution. Yet, after his first burst of anger at the shame inflicted upon his kinsman, he seemed bewildered as if a sure-footed horse had sunk beneath him.

"I should have gone!" he muttered. "The shame is not thine, but mine."

"If thou hadst gone when the summons came," cried Man Singh, heedless of anything but his agony of mind, "we would have lacked a leader ere now. There is one at Jahangir's side who seeks thy death."

"Who would dare?"

"Who persuaded him to shame thy messenger?"

The two exchanged a long glance, and one of the Rajputs, turning toward me cried out suddenly-

"He has heard!"

Grasping the hilt of his curved sword, he strode toward me, motioning back others who were crying eagerly:

"Strike! Strike!"

"Nay," quoth the slender swordsman, "this shall be my affair. I will clip his ears for him, and leave his tongue to slaves. Then may he prowl but he will not speak."

They were in a black mood, having beheld the shame of Man Singh, their blood brother. They thought me perhaps a spy, perhaps a seller of secrets, and for once Jami's tongue could not aid me. The khan and the Rao had observed nothing, nor was I inclined to raise the cry of mercy. I grasped my scimitar sheath and pulled the blade clear.

"My lord," I said to him in Persian-though I understood the Hindustani, I could not speak it readily-"look to thine own jewels."

In the lobes of his ears he wore two pearls. Some of his companions who had caught the jest laughed aloud and this angered him the more. He was a slender warrior, richly dressed, with the small mouth and full eyes of a woman, his skin as soft as a child's. Yet there were pale scars upon his cheekbone and chin, and he moved with the swiftness of a mettled horse.

Being angry, he smiled, advancing to within arm's reach of me.

"So," he cried, "the slaves must bury thee."

And suddenly he saluted with the sword and struck-once-twice at my side. I circled to the right, warding his blows and making test of his strength. He was light of bone, even more than I, an Arab of the sahra, but the edge of his blade bore down heavily upon mine.

In that first moment I knew that my danger lay in his quickness of wrist, and I knew also that his blade was like most of the weapons of Ind -thin iron, edged and tipped with steel. Good for parrying, and well shaped for a thrust, but inferior to mine, which could be gripped by hilt and point and bent double, being tempered steel of Damascus.

He too must have felt this difference. He stepped in closer and thrust again and again for the throat, while his companions shouted and the two blades moved in flashing light.

Eh, it is good to feel edge grind along edge, and to hear the whistle of the thin blades in the air. We of the sahra may carry spear and bow, yet our love is for the naked steel that leaps in the hand!

My blood was warming, and I yielded ground no longer. My adversary shouted and bent low, striving to force my weapon up and to thrust under the ribs. He was fearless-aye, he left unguarded his own head-and as swift as a striking snake.

"Hai!" the watchers cried out.

He had cut through a fold of my mantle, under the arm, but I knew that I was his master, having the longer arm and the better blade. This angered him the more. In the beginning, he had meant to wound me, or force my weapon from my hand; now he meant to kill if he could, pressing in upon me, and dealing blow after blow.

Then someone cried out near at hand, and the Rajput sprang back, breathing heavily, never taking his eyes from mine.

Between us stepped the speaker, Mahabat Khan, in his gold inlaid mail and damask mantle. In truth, he seemed angry.

"Sheath your swords," he said, and we obeyed. "Have I given permission, Partap Singh," he asked the Rajput, "to bare weapons in my presence?"

"Nay. This man heard what was not meant for his ears. I would have clipped them."

Mahabat Khan did not raise his voice or glance at me.

"This man is an Arab hakim who tended the Rao, my cousin, in his sickness and came hither, having met him upon the road, cutting loose his bonds and giving him a good horse to ride."

I thought then that Man Singh had looked up when the sword blades rang together, and had taken my part with Mahabat Khan. He could have done little less. And the noble who was called Partap Singh did a strange thing. He gripped his sheathed sword and held it forth to Mahabat Khan, the hilt forward.

"I did not know," he said. "If the offense is great, do thou, clear my honor with this blade."

He had asked the khan to slay him but Mahabat Khan smiled a little in his beard and spoke gravely.

"Nay, Partap Singh, thy sword hath served me too faithfully, to turn it against thee. I myself will deal with this guest."

And after the evening meal he sent for me, where I was eating with his Moslem followers and Jami. I was led to the tent of the standard again, and made the salaam of greeting upon entering.

Mahabat Khan sat alone on a rich carpet, leaning not against a cushion but a saddle. He motioned for me to sit before him, and this I did, while he kept silence. He seemed to be older than his years, for his brow was furrowed and his lips were harsh.

"0 my guest," he said-and I took notice of the word-"I first saw thee near the blue mosque, and later I heard thy bold answer to my cousin, who is no man to trifle with. Lo, by chance thou hast met with him on the highway. And now thou halt crossed swords with that fire eater, Partap Singh of Malwa. Who art thou?"

He asked this question swiftly, biting off the words, nor did his eyes leave mine as I told him the story of my wanderings from the sahra to the great sea, and finally, to Ind.

"For a hakim, thou art rarely skilled at sword work."

"In my land there are foes to be met."

His face clouded, as if my words had called up a dark spirit within his mind.

"For the service rendered to my kinsman, I ask thee to accept a gift, Ibn Athir," he said, and called to one without the tent.

A Moslem soldier appeared and saluted him, bearing to me a small box or casket of sandal.

"It is not silver money," Mahabat Khan remarked, smiling, and I knew he was thinking of the purse I had given back to the servants of the Rao.

"Yah khawand," I said, "0 lord of many clans, may thy pardon be granted me. How is it possible for me to accept a gift for aiding a man upon the road?"

"Open the box."

This I did, and astonishment came upon me. For, upon the satin lining lay four yellow pearls of size and luster, each the worth of a fine horse.

"A princely gift!"

I closed the lid of the casket, leaving it still in the hand of the soldier.

"Bethink thee."

Mahabat Khan looked at me intently.

"Thou hast bound up the hurts of my cousin and risked the displeasure of the padishah. Accept then the gift. Is it not sufficient?"

Now it was in Iny mind that Mahabat Khan was testing me, though how and to what end I knew not. So I spoke warily, yet openly. To tell the truth to talkative or inquisitive men is a waste of breath; but to some men it is not good to lie, and Mahabat Khan was such.

"Nay," I smiled, "the patient is not yet healed of his hurts. When he can walk again it will be time to think of payment."

"But thou seekest the camp of Jahangir."

I thought of Jami's idle tongue. After all, the boy was a Hindu.

"God willing, that was my purpose."

"And now?"

For a moment I did not speak. I had been sitting with the leader of the army of Ind for thrice the time water takes to boil, and he was certain that I had heard his cousin say that his death was desired at the court of Jahangir. Nay, I had seen his officers draw sword to slay me. I hoped for no more than that he would give command to bind me and keep me captive, so that I would not carry word of what I had seen in his camp to his enemies.

"I have heard what I have heard, 0 my khan," I said openly. "So, tell me thy purpose, that I may know what is in store for me. Verily, I am no spy; nor have I ever beheld the court of Ind."

At this he leaned back and combed his beard for a space. Once he parted his lips to speak and looked at me in silence.

"That Persian hakim, the one the Rao sahib had beaten, was a spy," he mused. "A creature who served Nur-Mahal. She, the favorite of the padishah, is Persian born. I do not think thou wilt see that hakim again, Ibn Athir."

His eyes gleamed and his long chin outthrust.

"Ho; go thou to the camp of the padishah! Bear a message from me. Is thy memory good?"

"At need."

"This is the message, not to be written down. Give it to no one but the person I describe to you. Thus: 'Mahabat Khan sends fealty. Are his deeds forgotten? Think, if the hawk that strikes down its quarry be not a better servant than the crow that feasts off others' game."'

A strange message-an appeal fired with a warning. Its meaning was hidden from me, but it was a message that would go to one well known and of high rank. Moreover, it could profit little his enemies, if they heard it. They, I think, were the crows; and surely this warrior of Ind had the semblance of a hawk in his thin lips and down-curving beak of a nose and heavy brows. He made me repeat it thrice, until I had each word fixed in mind.

"To whom is the message?" I asked, wondering.

"To the padishah, Jahangir himself."

"W'allah! How am Ito gain his ear, unknown to others?"

"In three ways. First, thou are a wanderer, and Jahangir loveth best the men of other lands. No man of mine would be suffered to live to speak to him. Second, thou art a physician, and may thereby approach and converse with my imperial master. Third, take the four pearls. Make a gift to Asaf Khan, the chief minister, and all doors will be open to thee."

So said Mahabat Khan, impatiently. And he advised me to give one pearl at first, promising the others upon fulfillment of the bargain.

"For Asaf Khan is a Persian, blood brother to Nur-Mahal, and a man with a price. Once his price is paid he may betray thee for a greater gain."

Another thing came into his mind. Indeed, he thought of all things.

"Some will cry out against thee, Ibn Athir, for freeing Man Singh from shame. Thy safeguard here is twofold. Others-my enemies-will know thou hast been within my lines, and will cherish thee, to question thee. And Jahangir likewise."