by Farzana Moon
"Your Majesty. I have assured myself that escape from the malice and implacable hatred of Asaf Khan is impossible, and that I shall be put to death in shame and ignominy!" Mahabat Khan declared with a dint of fear and courtesy. "I have therefore boldly and presumptuously thrown myself upon Your Majesty's protection. If I deserve death or punishment, give the order that I may suffer it in your presence." His look was feverish and challenging.
"And who are those unblinking idiots you have brought with you?" Jahangir’s eyes were gathering the daggers of rage and inquisition.
"They are the cannons of my protection, Your Majesty, if you do not comply with my wishes." Mahabat Khan grinned triumphantly.
"Your wishes, you demented fool!" Jahangir drained his cup and flung it down on the carpet. "How dare you approach the emperor when I have forbidden you? What does this all mean?" He demanded with one hopeless gesture of his arm.
"That means, Your Majesty, that you are my prisoner, and you will do as I command." Was Mahabat Khan's delirious response.
"Command, you vile traitor?" Jahangir wiped the beads of perspiration from his brow in some daze of hopelessness. "I should have known. Begone, I say, before you crumble under the edict of death which you yourself have chosen to accept."
"Death stands between you and me, Your Majesty, and it will strike both ways, if you but move a finger to issue such an edict." Mahabat Khan's very eyes were murmuring the challenge of death and doom.
"Briny odors of the Dead Sea are escaping your very lips, Mahabat. Death is not between us, but behind you. Soon, the emperor's troops would be crossing the bridge, and nothing would save you from the pit of death and degradation." Jahangir tossed back a feeble challenge, his thoughts aghast and foundering.
"Two hundred Rajputs are guarding the bridge, Your Majesty, equipped with instructions to burn it, if anyone dared cross it on either side." Mahabat Khan appeared to be sketching fresh plans in his head.
"It is already burning, but sealed with the waters of Jordan? No harm will ever come to it." Jahangir murmured to himself, his gaze returning to the devoted subjects at his feet. A low command was escaping his lips. "Arab Dost, summon Mutamid Khan. Tell him to fetch my riding garments. The emperor is going hunting."
Arab Dost leaped to his feet, but was stalled in his act of obeying the emperor's orders. Mahabat Khan had unsheathed his sword and was forbidding him to leave. Jahangir's own hand was reaching to his jeweled hilt, but falling listless into his lap. The emperor's eyes were feverish, revealing the first blow of shock and bewilderment. Mutamid Khan had heard the emperor's command, and was breaking through the wall of the Rajputs with riding garments into his arms. He was offering them to the emperor with all due courtesy, and not minding the foul air charged with threat and danger.
"This works perfectly in conformity with my plans, Your Majesty." Mahabat Khan was heard bubbling with a fresh spurt of madness. "You would ride forth hunting, Your Majesty, as if it was your own free will, while you would be subject to a strict surveillance. A good chance to prove to your subjects that nothing has changed. For the sake of peace and harmony between our troops and your troops, we would keep the fact of your captivity concealed. You will seem to be commanding, while we command!"
"The emperor will go to his dressing chamber and change." Jahangir got to his feet as if drifting in a dream.
"No, Your Majesty, you cannot leave this chamber." Mahabat Khan blustered forward. "We would erect a screen right here. My Rajput soldiers would hold it for you, while Your Majesty changes."
Jahangir stood there unperturbed and demurring. The cold, tingling sensations in his head were holding him captive inside some clamps of shock. Jahu and Arab Dost were moving closer to the emperor like the shields of steel, claiming their positions on each side of him with the fierce devotion of the imperial guards. Mutamid Khan was facing Mahabat Khan, glaring and stomping his foot with the fury of a mute challenge.
"These Rajputs better not dare come near His Majesty. We ourselves would hold the brocade coverlet as a screen for our emperor. And order your dumb Rajputs to face the other way." Mutamid Khan was furious, towering above the traitors.
This chamber of intrigue was swallowed into a sudden hush, as the emperor changed in mute obedience to his own will and trepidation. Jahu and Arab Dost were holding the brocade coverlet as if turned to solid posts, only their eyes shooting daggers and threats. The Rajputs, instead of turning their backs, had closed their eyes, their faces flushed and inscrutable. Mutamid Khan was standing there ramrod, his eyes raining fire and brimstone. Mahabat Khan was pacing, as if he had lost the method to his madness and was searching this loss desperately. Jahangir was emerging forth in his riding habit like a dazed knight out of the very pages of the Arabian Nights, the sparkle of emeralds in his turban accentuating his pallor. Mahabat Khan's eyes were burning with the fire of madness, his feet coming to an abrupt halt, and he stood facing the emperor.
"Before we go hunting, Your Majesty, we will visit the empress in her own royal tent, and request her to accompany us." Mahabat Khan gloated inwardly.
"The empress is visiting her brother on the other side of the river, if you wish and dare cross the bridge and confront the imperialists." Jahangir's look was dazed, where his mute sufferings could be seen accosting the pain in living.
"It's not true, Your Majesty! I will conduct the search myself." Was Mahabat Khan's flustered response. "Let us go, Your Majesty." The daggers of doom in his eyes were revealing his own blunder and confusion.
The emperor was walking ahead, accompanied by Jahu, Arab Dost and Mutamid Khan. Mahabat Khan was behind the emperor with his sons on either side of him. The Rajput soldiers were following at a respectable distance, as if the emperor himself had chosen to take a stroll in this silk city with his general and his troops. The emperor was the first one to enter the tent of the empress, followed by his devoted companions. Mahabat Khan, the rebel and the traitor, was right behind them. Mahabat Khan, now facing the truth of the emperor's words, was courting despair and bewilderment. His mind and heart were on fire. He could hear his own thoughts cursing his stupidity in neglecting to capture the empress, who was sure to thwart his noble schemes. Madness and delirium were coursing in his blood, and chaos and desperation were goading his mind to action. He was rather distracted, not even knowing what he was doing or saying.
Since he had missed the opportunity of capturing the empress, Mahabat Khan's next aberrant plan was to visit the tent of Prince Shahryar and hold him captive. He had not even heard the emperor that Prince Shahryar too was on the other side of the river with the empress and her brother. Adamant in searching the tent of the Prince, he was urging the emperor to lead, rather demanding answers to his blithering inquisition. Once again, this royal entourage, followed by the Rajput troops, was seen halting before the tent of Prince Shahryar. Not finding the Prince in his royal abode, Mahabat Khan was overwhelmed with such confusion that his fears and madness' were multiplying. He was ordering the emperor to proceed toward the hunting grounds, and storming ahead of him as if ready to lead an army. Realizing too soon that Jahu had chosen to stay in the tent of the missing Prince, Mahabat Khan was quick to retrace his steps. Suspecting Jahu of some foul conspiracy, Mahabat Khan had ordered his soldiers to slay him.
After this dark deed was done, Mahabat Khan was at the emperor's heels once again. He was offering the emperor his own horse, and insisting that the emperor should accept this offer and ride to the hunting grounds without further delay. The emperor, though dazed, was more in command of his senses where royal authority could be seen mounting higher and higher over the perils of life and tragedies. So, he was summoning his stirrup holder to fetch his own royal steed so impeccably chosen for hunting expeditions. Amidst this unsettling issue over the horses, the emperor's mahout Gajpat Khan and his son were appearing on the scene, riding the imperial elephant in obedience to the emperor's former command to accompany him to the hunt. Mahabat Khan suspecting that these men were comi
ng to rescue the emperor out of his captivity was quick to command his soldiers to slay these men. After this brutal slaughter was perpetrated in broad daylight, Mahabat Khan's savage thoughts were returning to the issue of the empress.
"Your Majesty, before we proceed to this hunt, you are to send a note to the empress." Mahabat Khan's flustered command was escaping the tremor of his rage and madness. "You are to write, Your Majesty, that your safety is insured under my command, and that any scheme of engaging in war with me would be a great mistake, resulting in dire consequences. And that a peaceful surrender on the part of the empress would benefit both her and the emperor."
Jahangir was more stunned than baffled by the incongruity of this scene, which was grazing only the surface-calm of his shocked awareness. His former rage was dissolved inside the absurdity of this living nightmare. Paradoxically, he was not even thinking about his empire being usurped by the hands of this lowly general, but about his pain in the unfathomable deeps of his loneliness where he longed for Nur Jahan beside him. The wound of long forgotten grief inside his heart was splintering open. It was accosting the poetry of love in dreams, and swallowing the wounds of reality. He had summoned Mir Mansur, ordering him to fetch his own horse, condoning the violence and brutality visited by the insanity of Mahabat Khan. Urged by this vile traitor, he had also commanded Mir Mansur to pen the missive to the empress as dictated by Mahabat Khan. While taking his signet ring off to be sent with the missive, one couplet had come tumbling down his lips, and he had commanded that to be added as a postscript.
To thee I have sent the scent of myself
That I may bring thee more quickly to myself
Jahangir stood tasting the perfume of the couplet in his head, even after Mir Mansur had left with the missive and the signet ring. Mahabat Khan was seeking the emperor's attention most humbly, as if he had committed no murder, or treachery which could be a cause of offence to the emperor.
"Your Majesty, now your slave will be in your attendance on this hunting trip." Mahabat Khan was assisting the emperor on his own royal steed. Then he was commanding his soldiers with a desperate wave of his arm.
Nur Jahan was feeling comforted by the warmth of her granddaughter sleeping in her lap, but her heart was still shooting rapiers of warnings and forebodings. Ladli Begum and Prince Shahryar were lolling against the satiny pillows, oblivious to the stabbing fury in Nur Jahan's heart. They were whispering amongst themselves in the bliss-comfort of their royal niche on the thick, Persian carpet. Asaf Khan was seated opposite Nur Jahan, more intent on talking than listening, and avoiding the inquisition from the empress most craftily. Actually, Nur Jahan had no intention of subjecting her brother to inquisition, but wanted to know about any covert intrigues which were to pose a threat to the empire of Hind. Not once did she suspect any threat from Mahabat Khan. Had she thought about this fallen general even once during her journey from Kashmir to Jehlum, perhaps a little suspicion would have entered her head that Mahabat Khan could rise in insurrection? But as it was, she had dwelt more on Prince Shah Jahan's acts of obedience, which had a false ring concealing the all-time alarm of danger and sedition. Right now, as she sat talking, rather listening to her brother, she was ascribing her sense of foreboding to the false sense of peace between the emperor and Prince Shah Jahan.
Asaf Khan himself had not chosen to talk about Mahabat Khan. He had been the author of ruin and degradation for this general, more so by his own malicious designs, than through the deep-rooted hatred of Nur Jahan. He was satisfied on one account now, that this man of power and intrigue was thrown into a pit of eternal obscurity, from where he could never rise to contend against his beloved son-in-law, Prince Shah Jahan. Secretly, Asaf Khan's allegiance belonged to Prince Shah Jahan, though he appeared to favor the cause of the emperor at all times and under all circumstances. Even this afternoon, as he sat conversing with his sister, he was careful to guard his secret communications with Prince Shah Jahan, informing the Prince about the emperor's illnesses and his royal itinerary. So engrossed was he in guarding these secrets, that he too could spare no thoughts concerning Mahabat Khan. Besides, he had no fear of treachery from this man who was banished to Bengal.
Amenable as ever, Asaf Khan was in great spirits this particular afternoon. He was joking and laughing, with the sole intention of entertaining the empress, as if her visit demanded entertainment. On the contrary, Nur Jahan didn't wish to be entertained, but informed about any stealthy intrigues or rebellions which might ensue during their journeys long and distant. She was rather disappointed in gleaning nothing from her brother's discursive account of peace and harmony in all quarters of the empire. She was succumbing to silence, rather than probing and prodding. Right this moment, Asaf Khan was relating some mundane event which had touched some lives in the court at Agra a few months from hence. Nur Jahan was listening quietly, while watching the velvet bundle of a granddaughter in her lap with the warmth of love and tenderness. Her own thoughts were opiate and wandering aimlessly. A strange hush had settled into this tent of silk and damask. Asaf Khan's voice was attaining the quality of a murmuring cataract, lulling this hush into further vacuum of silence.
In a flash, the murmuring cataract in Asaf Khan's throat was choked by the breezy intrusion of Mir Mansur. He had staggered into the tent with a woebegone look, the script of doom and tragedy written all over his face. He was gasping for breath, and falling at the feet of the empress in one heap of misery. Ladli Begum and Prince Shahryar were startled to their feet. Asaf Khan was frozen in his act of speech and action. His thoughts were imputing this rudeness to the news of the emperor's sudden illness, or death? He could not move, he could not think. Mehr Harwi, who had obliterated herself in one dark corner, flew to the empress' side, frightened and flustered. Nur Jahan commanded her lady-in-waiting to take the sleeping princess into the adjoining tent without a dint of fear or urgency. After Mehr Harwi had left, Nur Jahan's attention was reverted back to that heap of a messenger at her feet. Mir Mansur was lifting his head, and offering one sealed missive, along with the signet ring of the emperor.
The mistress of grace and serenity as ever, Nur Jahan was the only one not flustered by the unusual rudeness and abruptness of this messenger. Her features were still glowing with the warmth of love and tenderness for her granddaughter, whom she had just relinquished into the care of Mehr Harwi. She slipped the signet ring on her forefinger and unsealed the missive most carefully. A luminous pallor swept over her tender, glowing features as she deciphered the contents. Folding the missive back slowly and thoughtfully, she lifted her gaze to the messenger of doom.
"Mir Mansur, go and alert the troops for a possible attack." Nur Jahan commanded with that power of finality which brooked no disobedience.
After Mir Mansur retreated most obediently, Nur Jahan's eyes turned to Asaf Khan, flashing suddenly.
"Our emperor is in Mahabat Khan's custody." Nur Jahan murmured softly in wild contrast to the flashing intensity in her gaze. She stole a quick glance at her daughter who stood leaning against her husband, mute and stricken. "All this, Asaf, has happened through all your neglect and stupidity. How can you be so besotted as not to discover the advance of Mahabat Khan? What happened to the imperial spies who are scattered all over the empire in thick clusters?" The blue in her eyes was on fire.
"How could I know?" Asaf Khan murmured wretchedly. "The spies are more intent on tracing the footsteps of Prince Shah Jahan than peering into the hearts of the insignificant generals—by your own orders, Padishah Begum."
"I should have known!" Nur Jahan lamented aloud, wringing her hands. "What never entered into the imagination of anyone has come to pass. And now you, Asaf, should be stricken with shame for your negligence and for your inexcusable conduct before man and God. If there were enough guards to insure the safety of the emperor, this should not have happened." She got to her feet and began to pace.
"What did the emperor write?" Asaf Khan asked distractedly.
"The emper
or writes, of course, that he is safe, that there is no need to engage into any kind of skirmish. That if we even attempted to fight a battle, it would result in dire consequences." Nur Jahan murmured. She appeared to be digesting the import of these words herself than gratifying her brother's dull curiosity.
"The emperor is right, of course." Asaf Khan murmured to himself.
"Any child could see through this message, Asaf. That this missive was dictated by Mahabat Khan's own plotting, deceiving mind. The emperor was forced to write it." Nur Jahan's anger was dissolving into a pool of torment.
The empress was pacing, and feeling the cold, cold blasts of pain and anguish. Her heart was somersaulting amidst the numb, chilling currents of grief and hopelessness. She was trying to escape this cold fury, so that she could materialize her plans in rescuing the emperor from this captivity.
"We would launch an attack right away, Padishah Begum, if you but command." Prince Shahryar emerged out of his shock like a gallant knight.
"Here is my valorous Prince." Nur Jahan stopped in her act of pacing. "While my own brother sits there craven and unconcerned." She flashed her brother a smoldering rebuke, her gaze returning to Prince Shahryar. "We must plan, my wise Prince. The attack has to be in the morning. Do summon Fadai Khan. We must get the reports straight, and then plan in accordance with that reptile—Mahabat Khan's hissing moves."
Prince Shahryar bowed his head, and left obediently. Ladli Begum was about to sink back to her former seat, when Nur Jahan commanded her to look after the comfort of Princess Arzina in the adjoining tent. After Ladli Begum had left accompanied by shock and bewilderment, Nur Jahan's attention was turning to her brother.
