The Twentieth Wife (33 page)

“Hoshiyar, get my armor,” he commanded, wiping his hand on a silk towel.

Hoshiyar Khan ran off to do his bidding.

“We must leave immediately for Sultanpur, your Majesty. No time can be lost.” Muhammad Sharif ran into Jahangir’s tent, fastening his armor.

“Is my horse saddled?”

“It awaits you outside, your Majesty.”

Jahangir ran out, forgetting his armor. Mahabat Khan threw him a spear. Armed with only a spear and a dagger, he mounted his horse and led his forces to the Beas river. There was no time to think on the way, no time to worry about going into the battlefield almost naked. Jahangir could now reaffirm his manhood as he approached his fortieth year. This rush, this thrill at danger, had been so long absent from the Emperor’s life. With just a brief glance around to affirm that Mahabat, Sharif, and the others were with him, Jahangir kicked his heels into his horse and rode at the head of his army into Sultanpur.

In the meantime, Shaikh Bukhari and the imperial army were fighting a losing battle. Just as all seemed to be lost, Ihtimam Khan, the
kotwal,
who had been appointed scout by Jahangir, arrived at the scene of the battle with another army, carrying Jahangir’s standard and flags. At the sight of the royal standard, a rumor flew through the rebel forces that the Emperor himself had arrived at the scene of the
battle. Abdur Rahim, the Khan-i-khanan, panicked and dropped Khusrau’s standard. When the rebels saw the Emperor’s standard and not Khusrau’s, they thought Khusrau had been killed. In the confusion that ensued, Shaikh Bukhari, the Barha Sayyids, and Ihtimam Khan gained control of the rebel forces. Some were killed, and others fled the scene of the battle.

Khusrau, Abdur Rahim, and Husain Beg fled from the site with a small army, intending to proceed to Kabul and from there to seek refuge in Uzbekistan.

The Emperor crossed the Beas river and arrived at the scene of the battle to find that Khusrau’s army had been vanquished and his son had fled. He left the rebels in the charge of Shaikh Bukhari and proceeded to Mirza Kamran’s house outside Lahore to await news of Khusrau’s capture.

•   •   •

K
HUSRAU AND HIS
cohorts rode hard from Sultanpur toward Kabul. They came upon the Chenab river two nights after the battle. It was late, and the boats were already docked on the piers. The boatmen had all gone home, except for one, who was just returning from a late fishing trip. He was brought to Khusrau.

“Prepare your boat to take us across,” Khusrau ordered.

“Your Highness,” the man stammered. “The Emperor had sent orders that no one is to cross the river without his permission. I will have to see the royal seal before I can take you to the other side.”

“I order you to take us across,” Khusrau yelled, losing his temper. He had not come this far to be thwarted by some commoner. It was imperative that they cross the river tonight. Waiting until first light would be too late.

“I cannot, your Highness. Please forgive me.”

At that moment, Abdur Rahim brought a woman and two children to Khusrau. The boatman started when he saw them.

“Is this your family?”

“Yes, your Highness.”

“Well . . .” Khusrau looked at the woman, brought out a knife, and ran his finger along the edge until two drops of blood pearled on his skin. “How would you like to see them dead?”

The boatman fell to his knees with tears in his eyes. “Please, your Highness,” he begged. “Spare their lives. I will take you across. I beg of you, spare them.”

“All right,” Khusrau said curtly, turning away and wiping his cut finger on his
qaba
. “Go prepare the boat. Abdur Rahim, free this man’s family. Tell the army to follow us as soon as we have crossed over to the other side.”

While the boat was being readied, Khusrau sat on the banks of the Chenab, heels dug into the mud. His finger twinged, and he started shivering. When had he become so violent?
What
had he become? Fear, stress, and sleeplessness had turned him into a monster he could not even recognize. What would Khalifa think of him? At the thought of his wife, Khusrau put his head down and wept. Would he ever see her again? And the child, their child—great gulping sobs rushed out of him.

As he sat there, arms wrapped around himself, Abdur Rahim came to tell him the boat was ready. Khusrau, Abdur Rahim, and Husain Beg boarded it, and the boatman started rowing them over. The Chenab flowed fast, and crossing was no easy task. Treacherous sandbars appeared unexpectedly, and only an experienced boatman could row across. The boatman, however, was smart. He had freed his family from Khusrau’s clutches, and he had no intention of disobeying his Emperor’s orders. He guided the boat toward a sandbar, where it stuck fast. For the next half hour, he pretended to try to extricate the boat. When Khusrau’s attention was diverted, he jumped from the boat and swam to the bank, leaving the prince and his companions stranded in the middle of the inky river.

Khusrau yelled after the boatman, but his voice was swept away by the sound of the fast-moving waters. The prince cursed and kicked the side of the boat, nearly upsetting them all into the river.
Finally he gave up. Brave in the battlefield, neither of the men had the courage to defy the currents.

As night wore on, the three men waited for assistance from the army. The river swirled around them in a melody of its own. One by one, tired from the events of the past few days, the men fell asleep.

Day dawned. Khusrau sat up sleepily and rubbed his eyes. When he opened them, the gold banner with the crouching lion did not at first register in his brain. Then sleep was chased away when he realized it was the Emperor’s standard. The prince was surrounded on both banks by the imperial army. While he had slept in the boat the army had easily vanquished Khusrau’s men on the banks of the Chenab. Now they stood at the side, waiting for the sun to rise. A few soldiers rowed over to Khusrau and captured him.

•   •   •

T
HE
E
MPEROR BENT
down and breathed deeply into the heart of a brilliant yellow rose. He straightened up and asked, “When will they be here?”

“Soon, your Majesty,” one of the attendants replied.

Jahangir nodded and continued down the garden path, his attendants following at a distance. Mirza Kamran had done a wonderful job, he noted with appreciation. Despite the dry climate, the garden was lush with greenery. Flowers bloomed in profusion, giving a delicate perfume to the air, and water gurgled pleasantly in the many channels that crisscrossed the lawns. Birds trilled merrily in large
chenar
trees, which cast shady spots around the lawns. It was very peaceful, even more so since the news of Khusrau’s capture had been brought to him.

The door to the garden opened, and the sound of marching footsteps broke the silence. Jahangir turned and waited. Soldiers led Khusrau, Husain Beg, and Abdur Rahim up to the Emperor. All three prisoners were chained from hand to foot and to one another. Khusrau shuffled in between his two companions. The party halted in front of Jahangir, and they bowed in unison.

“Your Majesty, I bring to you Prince Khusrau, Husain Beg, and the Khan-i-khanan,” Mahabat Khan said.

Jahangir looked grimly at Khusrau. Under his father’s gaze, Khusrau broke down and started weeping, wiping his eyes with dirty hands that left streaks of grime on his face. Jahangir’s upper lip curled in distaste. Why did Khusrau give him so much trouble?

“What have you to say for yourself?” he demanded.

Khusrau wept on, in loud, hiccuping sobs. The last few days had been too much for him. It was almost a relief to know that he had to make no more decisions, that the fight was over. Khusrau was only nineteen. For too long, covetous men in the empire had filled his head with tales of kingship and power. He had not really had a childhood, and as he stood weeping in front of his father it seemed he would not even have an adult life.

“Your Majesty, forgive me . . . ,” Husain Beg started. “I knew not what I was doing.” He pointed at Abdur Rahim. “The Khan-i-khanan promised me riches if I helped the prince. I would never have disobeyed my Emperor otherwise. Please pardon me, your Majesty. I am and will always remain your most loyal servant—”

“Enough!” Jahangir held up a hand. “You are a coward and a disloyal servant. Your deeds speak of your character, and your punishment shall befit the crime.”

Jahangir turned to Mahabat Khan. “Throw Prince Khusrau into prison. He shall remain chained. As for the others, the two villains will be put in the skins of an ox and an ass, then mounted on donkeys facing the tail and paraded around Lahore, so that all can see their disgrace.”

Husain Beg fell to his knees, bringing Abdur Rahim and Khusrau down with him. Jahangir turned away in disgust, and the three men were dragged out of the garden, with Husain Beg’s cries echoing in the still air.

The Emperor’s orders were carried out. An ox and an ass were
killed and skinned. The fresh skins, still bloody from their previous owners, were thrown on Husain Beg and Abdur Rahim, heads and all. As the two prisoners were led around the city the skins dried out in the heat of the sun, sticking to the bodies of the men and causing great discomfort and pain.

After twelve hours, Husain Beg died on his donkey, his skin suffocated and his body dehydrated by the dried-out ox hide. His head was then cut off, stuffed with grass, and sent by runners to Agra, there to hang on a stake at the ramparts of the fort as a lesson to other dissidents.

However, the Khan-i-khanan survived. Abdur Rahim had grown up in Lahore as the beloved son of the
diwan,
Bairam Khan. He was well known to the people and much loved by them. Against the Emperor’s orders, people threw water on him to keep the ass’s skin from drying out, and they offered him sherbet and fruits as he was dragged around the city. After two days, Jahangir ordered the release of the Khan-i-khanan.

•   •   •

T
HE REBELS DEALT
with, Jahangir arranged to enter the city of Lahore in state. This would be his first visit as Emperor of Mughal India. A few days passed while the people of the city prepared for their Emperor. Jahangir spent his time at Mirza Kamran’s house, holding court, walking in the lush gardens, and trying to decide a punishment for the rest of the rebels. He felt no remorse at the punishment meted out to Husain Beg and Abdur Rahim. Jahangir had pardoned Abdur Rahim once, upon his accession, but this time it was impossible to do so again. If he had died, his death would have been a lesson, simply and swiftly put. That Abdur Rahim had survived was a stroke of good luck; Jahangir was able to publicly pardon him. And having once been humiliated, the former Khan-i-khanan would not dare to lift his head again. The crown was now his, Jahangir thought grimly, and he had no intention of giving it up until he died. Which brought him to
the rest of Khusrau’s so-called army. The Emperor was lying in his canopied bed one night when an idea struck him. The next morning, upon awakening, he sent for Mahabat Khan.

“Mahabat, how many of Khusrau’s soldiers have been captured?”

“About six thousand, your Majesty.”

“I have been contemplating a suitable chastisement for these dissidents. Their punishment will fit their crime. They have dared to rebel against their lord and Emperor. For that, the sentence is death.”

Mahabat bowed to Jahangir. “It shall be done, your Majesty.”

“Yes,” Jahangir said reflectively, “but in such a manner that their death will be a lesson to all those contemplating a similar sin. Their bodies should hang in full view of the people, and Khusrau shall see the result of his actions on his followers.”

Mahabat Khan waited. He could tell that Jahangir already had a plan in mind. A grisly punishment was at hand, not only for the supporters of Khusrau but for Khusrau himself. When the Emperor spoke again, at great length, Mahabat Khan allowed a slow smile to spread over his features. This was even better than he had expected. The punishment was one that not only Khusrau would never forget, but posterity would remember.

For the next few days, there was intense activity in and around Mirza Kamran’s gardens. Trees were cut down in large numbers, and their trunks were shaped into stakes with pointed ends.

Finally, the day arrived when Jahangir was to enter Lahore. It was a strategic city in the empire, one of great importance both administratively and from the point of defense. Had it not been for the Deccani wars, Jahangir would have liked to live at Lahore, where the temperatures were more moderate than at Agra. Fate and Khusrau, he thought that morning, had brought him to Lahore in haste, but he was determined to enter the city in state as an Emperor should. He rose slowly, an excitement building in him all morning as he bathed and dressed.
Even the procession to Lahore would be eventful, for Khusrau was to be punished. The world would hear of it soon; future generations would speak of it for years to come. He waited outside Mirza Kamran’s house for Khusrau to be brought to him.

“I am willing to forget your disobedience of the last few days. As a token of my forgiveness, you shall ride with me in the
howdah,
” Jahangir said.

Khusrau fell to his knees. “Thank you, your Majesty.”

His chains removed, the prince was escorted to the
howdah
on the elephant. Jahangir climbed in first, then Khusrau. The prince watched in surprise as Mahabat Khan climbed up behind and seated himself at Khusrau’s elbow.

The royal elephant rose slowly at the mahout’s command, and the entourage departed from the courtyard of Mirza Kamran’s house to a fanfare of trumpets. As the elephant turned the corner into the road, Jahangir heard Khusrau draw in a sharp breath of horror.

Stakes were bored into the ground at regular intervals all along the road leading from Mirza Kamran’s house to the gateway of the city. On each stake, a man was impaled. Some were still alive, writhing in agony. Bodies also dangled on ropes from the few trees that lined the road; those who had been hung had suffered a gentler death than their comrades who had been impaled alive on the stakes, all lined up to greet their erstwhile leader. As the royal procession passed, the men who were still alive cried out to the prince.