The Moghul Read online

  The sun was directly overhead when Vasant Rao reined his iron-graystallion to a halt at the Abidjan Gate. Behind him, beyond the grove ofmango and tamarind trees, lay the stone reservoir of Surat. It wasalmost a mile in circumference, and he had chosen its far bank ascampground for his Rajput guard. Accommodations in Surat werenonexistent during the season, and although he could have cleared aguest house with a single name, Prince Jadar, he had chosen to remaininconspicuous.

  Through the dark bamboo slats of the gate he could now see theEnglishman riding toward him, holding his Arabian mare at an easy pace.Vasant Rao studied the gait carefully. He had learned he could alwaysjudge the character of a man by observing that man's handling of amount. He casually stroked his moustache and judged Brian Hawksworth.

  The Englishman is unpracticed, yet there's an unmistakable sense ofcommand about him. Not unlike the control the prince holds over ahorse. He handles the mare almost without her knowing it, forcingdiscipline onto her natural gait. Perhaps our treacherous friend MirzaNuruddin was right. Perhaps the Englishman will suit our requirements.

  Vasant Rao remembered that Jadar had been insistent on the point.

  "The English captain must be a man of character and nerve, or he mustnever reach Burhanpur. You need only be seen providing his guard as youdepart Surat. If he's weak, like a Christian, he will not serve ourneeds."

  The times ahead will be difficult enough, Vasant Rao told himself,without having to worry about the Englishman. The prince has beentrapped in the south, and now there's news Inayat Latif and his troopsare being recalled to Agra from Bengal. The queen will soon have at herright hand the most able general in the Moghul's army.

  Vasant Rao turned his eyes from the Englishman to look again at his ownRajput guard, and his pride in them restored his spirit. Only Rajputswould have the courage to one day face the numerically superior troopsof Inayat Latif.

  The origin of the warrior clans who called themselves Rajputs, "sons ofkings," was lost in legend. They had appeared mysteriously in westernIndia over half a millennium before the arrival of the Moghuls, andthey had royalty, and honor, in their blood. They had always demandedto be known as Kshatriya, the ancient Hindu warrior caste.

  The men, and women, of the warrior Kshatriya clans lived and died bythe sword, and maintained a timeless tradition of personal honor.Theirs was a profession of arms, and they lived by rules of conductunvaried since India's epic age. A member of the warrior caste mustnever turn his back in battle, must never strike with concealedweapons. No warrior could strike a foe who was fleeing, who asked formercy, whose own sword was broken, who slept, who had lost his armor,who was merely an onlooker, who was facing another foe. Surrender wasunthinkable. A Rajput defeated in battle need not return home, sincehis wife would turn him out in dishonor for not having given his life.But if a Rajput perished with a sword in his hand, the highest honor,his wife would proudly follow him in death, joining his body on thefuneral pyre. And many times, in centuries past, Rajput womenthemselves had taken up swords to defend the honor of their clain.

  When they had no external foes, the Rajput clans warred amongthemselves, since they knew no other life. For convenience, each clandecreed its immediate neighboring clans its enemies, and an elaboratecode was devised to justify war over even the smallest slight. Theirmartial skills were never allowed to gather rust, even if the cost wasperpetual slaughter of each other.

  Though they were divided among themselves, the Rajput clans had forcenturies defended their lands from the Muslim invaders of India. Onlywith the coming of the great Moghul genius Akman was there a Muslimruler with the wisdom to understand the Rajputs could be more valuableas allies than as foes. He abandoned attempts to subdue them, insteadmaking them partners in his empire. He married Rajput princesses; andhe used Rajput fighting prowess to extend Moghul control south and westin India.

  The men with Vasant Rao were the elite of the dominant Chauhan clan,and all claimed descent from royal blood. They held strong loyalties,powerful beliefs, and absolutely no fear of what lay beyond death. Theyalso were men from the northwest mountains of India, who had neverbefore seen Surat, never before seen the sea, never before seen a_feringhi_.

  But Vasant Rao had seen _feringhi_, when he had stood by the side ofPrince Jadar in Agra, when Jesuit fathers had been called to disputewith Muslim mullahs before Arangbar. He had seen their tight, assuredfaces, and heard their narrow, intolerant views. Could this _feringhi_be any different?

  Already he had witnessed the Englishman's nerve, and it had remindedhim, curiously, of Jadar. The Englishman had refused to come to theircamp, claiming this demeaned his office of ambassador. And Vasant Rao,representative of Prince Jadar, had refused to meet the Englishmaninside Surat. Finally it was agreed that they would meet at the wall ofthe city, at the Abidjan Gate.

  "Nimaste, Ambassador Hawksworth. His Highness, Prince Jadar, conveyshis most respectful greetings to you and to the English king." VasantRao's Turki had been excellent since his boyhood, and he tried toremember the phrases Mirza Nuruddin had coached. Then he watchedthrough the bamboo poles of the gate as Hawksworth performed a lordlysalaam from horseback.

  The gate opened.

  "I am pleased to offer my good offices to you and your king," VasantRao continued, "in the name of His Highness, the prince. It is hispleasure, and my honor, to provide you escort for your journey east toBurhanpur. From there His Highness will arrange a further escort forthe trip north to Agra."

  "His Majesty, King James, is honored by His Highness' concern."Hawksworth examined the waiting Rajputs, his apprehension mounting.Their eyes were expressionless beneath their leather helmets, but theirhorses pawed impatiently. He found himself wondering if Mirza Nuruddinhad contrived to provide more "help," and yet another surprise. "But myroute is not yet decided. Although I'm grateful for His Highness'offer, I'm not certain traveling east on the Burhanpur road is best.His Excellency, Mukarrab Khan, has offered to provide an escort if Itake the Udaipur road, north past Cambay and then east."

  Vasant Rao examined Hawksworth, choosing his words carefully. "We haveorders to remain here for three days, Captain, and then to return toBurhanpur. It would be considered appropriate by the prince, who hasfull authority to administer this province, if we rode escort for you."

  Hawksworth shifted in the saddle.

  This isn't an offer. It's an ultimatum.

  "Is His Highness aware I have with me a large sea chest? It willrequire a cart, which I plan to hire. Perhaps the delay this willimpose would inconvenience you and your men, since you surely prefer toride swiftly."

  "On the contrary, Captain. We will have with us a small convoy ofsupplies, lead for molding shot. We will travel at a pace that bestsuits us all. Your chest presents no difficulty."

  But there will be many difficulties, he told himself. And he thoughtagain about Mirza Nuruddin and the terms he had demanded. Twentypercent interest on the loan, and only a hundred and eighty days torepay both the new silver coin and the interest.

  But why, Vasant Rao asked himself again, did the Shahbandar agree tothe plan at all? Is this Mirza Nuruddin's final wager? That Jadar willwin?

  "Will three days be sufficient for your preparations, CaptainHawksworth?"

  "It will. If I decide to use the Burhanpur road." Hawksworth wonderedhow long he could taunt the Raput.

  "Perhaps I should tell you something about travel in India, Ambassador.There are, as you say, two possible routes between Surat and Agra. Bothpresent certain risks. The northern route, through Udaipur andRajputana, is at first appearance faster, since the roads are drier andthe rivers there have already subsided from the monsoon. But it is nota part of India where travelers are always welcomed by the local Rajputclans. You may well find yourself in the middle of a local war, or thereluctant guest of a petty raja who judges you worth a ransom.

  "On the other hand, if you travel east, through Burhanpur, you may findthat some rivers are still heavy from the monsoon, at least for anothermonth. But the cla
ns there are loyal to Prince Jadar, and only nearChopda, halfway to Burhanpur, will you encounter any local brigands.Theirs, however, is an honorable profession, and they are alwayswilling to accept bribes in return for safe passage. We ordinarily donot kill them, though we easily could, since petty robbery--they view itas a toll--is their livelihood and their tradition. They are weak andthey make weak demands. Such is not true of the rajas in Rajputana. Thechoice is yours, but if you value your goods, and your life, you willjoin us as we make our way east to Burhanpur."

  Hawksworth studied the bearded Rajput guards as Vasant Rao spoke.

  I'm either a captive of the prince or of Mukarrab Khan, regardless ofwhat I do. Which one wants me dead more?

  "My frigate sails tomorrow. I can leave the following day."

  "Good, it's agreed then. Our convoy will leave in three days. It willbe my pleasure to travel with you, Captain Hawksworth. Your reputationhas already reached His Highness. We will meet you here at thebeginning of the second _pahar_. I believe that's your hour of nine inthe morning." He smiled with a warmth that was almost genuine. "Youshould consider yourself fortunate. Few _feringhi_ have ever traveledinland. You will find the interior far different from Surat. Untilthen."

  He bowed lightly and snapped a command to the waiting horsemen. Inmoments they were lost among the trees.