The Moghul Part 28

The two _chitahs _tensed at the same instant and pulled taut the chains on their jewel-studded collars. They were tawny, dark-spotted Indian hunting leopards, and they rode in carpeted litters, one on each side of the elephant's back. Each wore a brocade saddlecloth signifying its rank, and now both began to flick the black-and-white striped tips of their tails in antic.i.p.ation.

Prince Jadar caught their motion and reined in his dun stallion; the bright morning suns.h.i.+ne glanced off his freshly oiled olive skin and highlighted the crevices of his lean angular face and his tightly trimmed short beard. He wore a forest-green hunting turban, secured with a heavy strand of pearls, and a dark green jacket emblazoned with his own royal crest. His fifty-man Rajput guard had drawn alongside, and their horses tossed their heads and pawed impatiently, rattling the arrows in the brocade quivers by each man's saddle.

Then Jadar spotted the _nilgai_, large bovine Indian deer, grazing in a herd upwind near the base of a low-lying hill. With a flick of his hand he signaled the keepers who rode alongside the to begin removing the leopards' saddlecloths. He watched as first the male and then the female shook themselves and stretched their paws in readiness.

"Fifty rupees the male will make the first kill." Jadar spoke quietly to Vasant Rao, the moustachioed young Rajput captain who rode alongside. The commander of the prince's personal guards, he was the only man in India Jadar trusted fully.

"Then give me two hundred on the female, Highness."

"A hundred. And half the hides for your regiment's s.h.i.+eld maker." Jadar turned toward the waiting keepers. "Release the female. Then count to a hundred and release the male."

In moments the _chitahs _were bulleting toward the unsuspecting deer, darting from bush to bush, occasionally kicking up dust with their forefeet and hind legs to create camouflage. Then, as they approached the final clearing, they suddenly parted--the female to the north, the male to the south. Seconds later, as though on some private signal, the female sprang. She seemed to cover the remaining twenty yards in less than a second, and before the _nilgai _realized she was there, she had already pawed down a bleating straggler.

The striped ears of the other _nilgai _shot erect at the sound, and the herd panicked, sweeping blindly away from her--and directly toward the cover where the male crouched. He waited coolly, and then, as the deer darted by, pounced.

What followed was a fearsome devastation, as he brought down one after another of the confused prey with his powerful claws.

"The female killed first, Highness. I a.s.sume our bet was in gold coins, not silver." Vasant Rao laughed lightly and turned to study the brooding man at his side. Can it be true what many suspect about the prince? he again found himself wondering. That he choses his strategy for a campaign from the final hunt of his _chitahs_!

But what strategy is left for us? The Deccanis have already reclaimed the city of Ahmadnagar, deep in their territory, and once again made it their rebel capital. They drove the Moghul garrison north to the fort at Burhanpur, and now they threaten that city as well, the most important station in the vital route between Agra and Surat. We haven't the men and horse to turn them back. Not this time.

This was Prince Jadar's second campaign in the Deccan, India's revolt- torn central plains, which lay far south of Agra and east of the port of Surat, and the second time he had led his army to regain cities lost to Malik Ambar, the Abyssinian adventurer and military genius who periodically rose to lead the Deccan against Moghul rule. The Deccan had never been secure, even under the Moghurs father, Akman, but under Arangbar it had become a burial ground of reputation. One of the Moghurs finest generals, whose dispatches from Ahmadnagar, only the previous year, had boasted that the Deccan was finally subdued, now cowered in the fortress at Burhanpur. Arangbar had no choice but to send Jadar again.

"Did you see how they planned their attack?" Jadar fingered the edges of his short beard, then pointed. "She drove them toward his trap. By attacking the weak, she frightened the strong, who flew to their doom."

"We're not facing _nilgai_, Highness." Vasant Rao s.h.i.+fted in his saddle to face the prince and s.h.i.+elded his eyes against the sun. "And our position is much worse than on the last campaign. This time we have only eighteen thousand men, all encamped here at Ujjain, all weary to their bones from our siege at the Kangra, north in the Punjab, and then the long march down country. While Malik Ambar waits rested and secure in Ahmadnagar, his own capital, a two months' march south."

"We'll bring Ambar to terms just as before, three years ago. By fear."

Jadar watched as the keepers began measuring the rations of meat to reward the _chitahs_. And he reflected over the secret envoy received early that morning from the commander of the fortress at Mandu, the northern outpost of the Deccan. . . .

"Your Highness is respectfully advised the situation is worse, much worse, than told in the reports sent by Ghulam Adl." They were alone in Jadar's tent and the envoy was on his knees, prostrate, terrified at his obligation to bring ill tidings to the son of the Moghul. Ghulam Adl was the general in charge of the Deccan, who had abandoned Ahmadnagar to Malik Ambar and retreated north to Burhanpur. His official reports still maintained an air of bravado, claiming a few reinforcements were all that was required to drive the rebels to final extinction.

"We have asked Ghulam Adl for troops to help defend Mandu, but he cannot leave Burhanpur," the envoy continued. "The Deccanis have surrounded the city, but they do not trouble themselves with a siege.

They know he cannot move. So they have sent eight thousand light cavalry, Maratha irregulars, north across the Narbada River to plunder outlying districts. They are approaching Mandu, and will be at the fortress within the week."

"Why doesn't Ghulam Adl call up troops from among the _mansabdars_.

They've all been granted their annual allowance for maintenance of cavalry."

_Mansabdars _were n.o.bles of the Moghul empire who had been given rank by the Moghul and were allowed to collect revenue from a specified number of estates and villages, allotted lands called _jagirs_, as a reward for service and loyalty. They collected taxes for the Imperial treasury in Agra, which allowed them a portion to maintain cavalry and equipage at the ready. a.s.signment of a _jagir _always carried the responsibility of maintaining a specified number of troops and cavalry, which they were obliged to muster when requested by the Moghul.

"The _mansabdars_ have no men to muster, may it please Your Highness."

The envoy's face was buried in the carpet, showing to Jadar only the dust-covered back of his turban. "Conditions have been severe over the past year. Crops have been bad, and many _mansabdars _could not collect taxes because of the Deccani raids. Many have not paid their cavalry for over a year. The _mansabdars _still feed the horses that have been branded and placed in their care. But they have not fed the men who must ride. Most of those have returned to their villages. There can be no army without coin to lure them back. The _mansabdars _are fearful of Malik Ambar now, and many have secretly agreed with him not to muster even the troops they still have."

"How many Deccani troops are encamped around Burhanpur?"

"Our spies report as many as eighty thousand, Highness. Ghulam Adl dares not leave the fort in the center of the city. He has no more than five thousand men still remaining loyal, and his supplies are short."

Jadar had ordered immediate solitary confinement for the envoy, lest the news reach the camp. Now, watching his _chitahs _feed, he calculated his next move.

I have to requisition silver coin from the treasury at Agra, and hope a supply caravan can still get through. In the meantime I'll muster the remaining cavalry from the _mansabdars_, on the threat their _jagirs_ will be confiscated if they fail to deliver. It won't raise many men, but it will slow defections.

But if we're to recall the men still loyal, we must have silver. To raise the thirty thousand men we need, men who've not been paid for a year, will require at least five million rupees, fifty _lakhs_. I must have it by the time we reach Burhanpur. If we can hold that city, we can raise the army from there.

"Malik Ambar sued for peace three years ago because his alliance came apart." Vasant Rao spoke again, watching Jadar carefully, knowing that the prince was deeply troubled, had imprisoned a courier that very morning for which there could only be one reason--then released pigeons that flew north.

"And his alliance will come apart again. If we sow enough fear." Jadar seemed annoyed at the delay as the waiting _chitahs _were re-harnessed and the last carca.s.ses of blue _nilgai _were loaded onto the ox-drawn wagons for return to the camp. "You still haven't learned to think like a _chitah_."

Jadar signaled the hunt was finished and wheeled his horse back toward the camp. Vasant Rao rode a few paces behind, asking himself how long that regal head would remain on those royal shoulders.

You're threatened now on every side. You cannot be as oblivious as you seem.

He thought back over Prince Jadar's career. Of the Moghul's four sons, Prince Jadar was the obvious one to succeed. Jadar's elder brother Khusrav had been blinded by the Moghul years before for attempting a palace revolt. Jadar's brother Parwaz, also older than the prince, was a notorious drunkard and unacceptably dissolute, even by the lax standards of the Moghul's court. And Jadar's younger brother, Allaudin, was the handsome but witless son of a concubine, who well deserved his secret nickname, Nashu-dani, "the good-for-nothing." Since there was no law in India that the oldest must automatically succeed, power devolved to the fittest. Only Jadar, son of a royal Rajput mother, could lead an army, or rule India. Among the Moghul's four sons, he was the obvious, deserving heir.

But ability alone was never enough to ensure success in the mire of palace intrigue. One must also have a powerful friend.

For years Prince Jadar had the most powerful friend of all.

The grooming of Jadar for office had begun over five years earlier, when he was taken under the protection of Queen Janahara. She had made herself the guardian of Jadar's interests at court; and two years ago she had induced the Moghul to elevate Jadar's _mansab_, his honorary rank, to twelve thousand _zat_. In income and prestige he had soared far beyond his brothers.

As is always the case, Jadar was expected to repay his obligation. On the day he ascended to the throne and a.s.sumed power from the ailing, opium-sotted Arangbar, he was expected to share that power with Queen Janahara.

But their unofficial alliance had begun to go wrong. Very wrong. And what had gone wrong was the most obvious problem of all. Jadar had lived half his life in army camps, fighting the Moghul's wars because he was the only son who could fight them, and he no longer saw any reason to relinquish his battle-earned inheritance to the queen.

What will the queen do? Vasant Rao asked himself again. I know she has turned on the prince. I know she tried to marry her Persian daughter to Jadar's blinded brother Khusrav, but Jadar discovered this and demanded Khusrav be sent out of Agra, to be kept in confinement by a raja loyal to the prince. But the queen is still in Agra, and sooner or later she will produce another successor, a creature she can dominate. Her task will be easy if Jadar fails in this campaign.

"I have reports Maratha irregulars may be at the fort at Mandu within a week." Jadar broke the silence between them as they rode. The noisy Rajput hors.e.m.e.n rode discreetly well behind, cursing, laughing, wagering. The flawless blue sky seemed to cloud as Jadar spoke. "Tell me what you would do?"

"Strike camp and march south. We have no choice."

"Sometimes you Rajputs show less wit than your monkey G.o.d, Hanumanji."

Jadar laughed good-naturedly. "You learned nothing from the hunt today.

Don't you see that would merely scatter them? They'll never dare meet us if we march in force. They'll only stage small raids. Hara.s.s our baggage train. No, we must do just the opposite." Jadar reined in his horse, turned to Vasant Rao, and lowered his voice. "Think like a _chitah _for once, not like an impulsive Rajput. We'll send a small cavalry force only--five hundred horse, you will help me pick them--who will disperse, ride separately, never show their numbers. Like a _chitah _stalks. No supply contingent. No elephants. No wagons. And, after the Marathas have set their siege at Mandu, our cavalry will quietly group and attack their flank. As they fall back, which they always do when facing a disciplined unit, the cavalry in the fort will ride out in force, forming the second arm of a pincer. And that will be the last we see of Malik Ambar's famous Maratha irregulars. They'll return to pillaging baggage trains and helpless villages."

"And after that?"

"We'll march directly on Burhanpur. We should reach it in less than a month."

"The Marathas will begin to hara.s.s our supply trains as soon as we cross the Narbada River. If they don't attack us while we cross."

"After Mandu, that's the one thing they will not do. Remember the _chitahs_. The Marathas will never know where our Mandu cavalry may be waiting in ambush."

"And when we reach Burhanpur?"

"We'll make our camp there, and muster cavalry from all the _mansabdars_." Jadar pa.s.sed over how he intended to do this. "That will be the end of Ambar's many alliances. We'll have the men we need to march in force on the south, on to Ahmadnagar, within the week. And Malik Ambar will sue for peace and return the territory he's seized, just like before."

Vasant Rao nodded in silent acknowledgment, asking himself what the prince was withholding. The strategy was far too straightforward for Jadar.

The camp was coming into view now. A vast movable city, it was easily several miles in circuit. Even from afar, however, Jadar's ma.s.sive central tent dominated. It was bright red and stationed in the center of the _gulal bar_, a restricted central zone almost two hundred yards on the side that formed the focal point of the camp. Behind Jadar's tent, separated by a figured satin part.i.tion, were the red chintz tents of the women, where his first wife, Mumtaz, and her attendants stayed.