by Farzana Moon
"Both are well, Your Majesty, and royally entertained by the courtiers. They have seen more of Lahore than any one of us could ever hope to explore amidst all these burdens of duties and uncertainties." Abul Hasan's expression was dauntless, and his look brimming with hints which he could not voice.
"The babes of suffered times." Jahangir murmured. His tone was loaded with innuendoes, which only Abul Hasan was sharp enough to catch. "How the emperor wishes to press them to his heart! Only Kabul stands in the way, then the emperor—" He stopped, noticing the horses of Mahabat Khan and his followers coming into view.
Mahabat Khan alighted from his horse at a respectable distance from the throne. He was ordering his soldiers to haul the chained prisoners forward without any delay, his look hard and merciless. He himself was taking charge of Asaf Khan and Abu Talib, and shepherding them both toward the throne. His eyes were shining with the light of power and victory, and a mad grin was carved over his face from cheek to cheek. Reaching closer to the throne, he had whacked the royal prisoners from behind, watching them with gloating, as they slumped at the foot of the throne in miserable heaps. Mahabat Khan himself was prostrating before the emperor in one lengthy curtsy.
"Your Majesty, here are the rebels, the cowards and the traitors, now groveling at your feet. These lying, cheating soldiers and courtiers who disobeyed your orders, Your Majesty. These murderers, Your Majesty, are drunk with the blood of the noble Rajputs." Mahabat Khan began his tirade with the vehemence of a war-lord. "I have brought them to you, Your Majesty, so that you could reward them with just punishments. I await your orders. If you command, Your Majesty, my own sword will wreak vengeance." His voice was choked by the flood of his own rage and madness.
"Cowards, not traitors, Mahabat." Jahangir intoned calmly. "And cowards need to be bound in the shackles of shame and ignominy, before death could release them from such tortures of the living." His look was aloof and wearied. "The emperor entrusts them into your custody, Mahabat. Keep them bound in chains and under strict guard. Their fates would be decided in Kabul.”
"Yes, Your Majesty. They will be tortured with insults, till they receive just punishments in the very heart of Kabul." Mahabat Khan announced deliriously.
"Your Majesty." Asaf Khan pleaded, breaking the seal of his stunned silence. "Please allow us to serve this term of imprisonment under the custody of the imperialists. Mahabat Khan is quick to murder his prisoners without waiting for any orders from you, Your Majesty." Fear and hopelessness were shining in his eyes.
"Is this true, Mahabat, that you have already exacted punishment in the manner of death on some of the prisoners?" Jahangir’s gaze was sad and piercing.
"Your Majesty." One flustered exclamation escaped Mahabat Khan's lips. "The ones who defied our authority to capture the fort had to be dealt with the blows of death. They were impeding our progress." He waved his arms imperiously, as he continued. "Abdul Khaliq and Mahammed Taqi were among the other few rebels who were put to the sword. Such disobedient lot, they deserved to die. Now the fort is occupied and garrisoned by the Rajputs. More will succumb to the same fate if they dare defy our orders—" He paused, laughing hysterically. "They were killed before we captured the fort, Your Majesty, not after we took the prisoners."
"How can one forget, the most brutal and savage of murders? Muhammad Tathi—" Abu Talib murmured, as if awakening from the pools of his own chill.
An imperceptible shadow of pain crossed Jahangir's features, but his gaze was calm and intense. He was studying Mahabat Khan's eyes and moods with intensity akin to awe and wonder. The rapt look in his own eyes was gathering commands, but none were escaping his lips.
"Yes, Muhammad Tathi, my spiritual preceptor. Chained and imprisoned and put to death. The innocent victim of violence and tyranny." Asaf Khan lamented aloud.
"He was a sorcerer, Your Majesty." Mahabat Khan sang deliriously. "An evil man possessed by demons, that's what he was, Your Majesty. I had him chained, that's true. But the chains fell off by his magic and incantations, and he showered me with curses before his head was severed." His eyes were lit up with fear.
"He knew no magic, Your Majesty, but recited verses from the Quran for the salvation of his soul." Was Asaf Khan's chilled lament. "The chains were not well secured, and when they fell off, he was accused of casting spells and raining curses."
"Have the chains slipped off the feet of the Prince Hoshang and Prince Tahmuras too, Mahabat?" Jahangir eased himself up, watching the dance of fear in Mahabat Khan's eyes with a great fascination. "Have they fled, or are they killed?"
"They are safe, Your Majesty. They are chained though, and imprisoned inside the fort." Was Mahabat Khan's quick response.
"All these prisoners would journey with us to Kabul, Mahabat. Of course, in the custody of the Rajput guards. Keep them alive, Mahabat, till they receive just punishments from the emperor." Jahangir commanded, turning to leave.
"We halt at Jalalabad, Your Majesty. I have arranged special entertainments for you there." Mahabat Khan flung his own command at the back of the emperor.
Jahangir's pace dwindled at the mention of Jalalabad, but he neither turned back, nor waved the Rajput guards away as was his wont when pressed by the sense of false amenity. Suddenly, he was overwhelmed by despair and weakness, as if his body and soul were sundering apart, and cleaving through the abyss of death and darkness.
The pine-valleys in Kabul were greeting Jahangir and Nur Jahan with welcoming scents. The seductive contours of the hills were an undulating profusion of verdure, cradling a tapestry of colors in wild flowers. Their gilded carriage harnessed by white Arabian horses, was wending its way toward Shahara garden. A great multitude on either side of the road were greeting the royal entourage and waving colorful scarves. They were blissfully ignorant of the emperor's state of captivity and of his inner torment. The emperor was scattering gold and silver on the path of the well-wishers in his usual fashion of the Moghul custom which rewarded the spirit of welcome with its own spirit of generosity. The crowds were cheering, and Jahangir was acknowledging their joy with a cheerful wave of his arms, as if no power on earth could imprison him inside the castles of intrigue. He had, in fact, succeeded in winning Mahabat Khan's trust to such an extent that the Rajput guards around him were reduced to insignificant numbers. Thus affording him the luxury of plotting together with his empress against this besotted traitor. Even now, they were alone in the carriage. A few Rajput guards were astride ahead of their carriage, or falling behind in a leisurely trot.
The shadows of death and darkness were left behind in Jehlum. Mahabat Khan had been quiet and respectful on the way from Jehlum to Jalalabad, heralding the emperor before the citizens of this town with exaggerated pomp and grandeur. At Jalalabad, he had arranged a sumptuous feast for the emperor with all sorts of strange ceremonies a little short of anointing him with sacred oils and holy chanting. By Mahabat Khan's own design and ingenuity, the emperor was hailed as a great Caesar. Kaiser of the whole world, chosen by Allah to bless all people with the sunshine of his justice and kindness. With so much praise and pageantry, even the Rajput guards had begun to see a halo around the emperor's head, though they were obedient only to the commands of their demented leader, Mahabat Khan himself.
Jahangir was not affected by this aura of sanctity over his head, as more often alluded by his own courtiers than by Mahabat Khan. He was winning Mahabat Khan's trust with mental strategies, not with a godlike compassion brimming with love and mercy. He was keeping the nimbus of his own mercy and judgment subservient to the will of All Knowing, All Merciful, All Omniscient God. That's what Jahangir was in the habit of telling Nur Jahan in rare moments of mirth and raillery.
Nur Jahan herself was the chief instigator in devising such plans of sanctity and holiness, though Mahabat Khan had thought this was his own original design entirely. She was the one who had bribed her followers in convincing Mahabat Khan to invest the emperor with the power of sanctity. Her faithful eunuchs and
her much devoted courtiers, by her commands were quick to weave the tales of sanctity over the character of the emperor, consecrating him as the lord of love and light. An ocean of awe billowed before the emperor wherever he went, and even Mahabat Khan could not help but think that he himself was being baptized by the waters of holiness. He was getting accustomed to prostrating before the emperor more often than ever, not knowing why he kneeled while he still commanded.
Nur Jahan had enough gold and jewels to bribe the lords and generals in Jalalabad to win secret alliances, thus strengthening the numbers of her imperial troops. The glitter of gold had also worked wonders over the hearts of the Rajputs, who had begun to doubt the authority of their subservient leader. Mahabat Khan too was affected by the glitter, not of real gold, but by the gold of trust and friendship with the emperor. He had become the emperor's confidant in matters great and small. Convinced absolutely of the emperor's trust in him, when the emperor had sought his advice and judgment concerning the governorship of Agra.
Jahangir had appointed Muzaffar Khan the governor of Agra before his journey to Kashmir, replacing Qasim Khan due to his covert alliance with Prince Shah Jahan. Qasim Khan, the brother-in-law of Nur Jahan's sister Manija was sorely hurt, but couldn't seek Nur Jahan's attention at that time for his plea to regain the emperor's favor. Now, while in Jalalabad, Manija Begum had sent a request to Nur Jahan with a plea that her husband be reinstated to the favor of the emperor. The emperor, savoring this God-send opportunity to win Mahabat Khan's absolute trust, had presented the whole case to him, seeking his advice solely on his judgment and discretion. Pretending, that the emperor didn't care for the empress or for her relatives, and that whatever Mahabat Khan's decision, the emperor would welcome it most gratefully. Mahabat Khan was so bloated with joy and pride in being the emperor's sole confidant that he had opted to reinstate Qasim Khan as the governor of Agra, disregarding even his hatred and mistrust for Nur Jahan and her family.
Mahabat Khan was now convinced beyond any doubt that the emperor was no more under the power and influence of the empress. And this knowledge alone was his joy and victory over all which he wished to seek or accomplish. What he wished to seek or accomplish, he himself was not sure? He had no fears though, and was feeling elated by his sense of power and command over the emperor's emotions as well as over his decisions. No one could dare rise in insurrection against him, he had told himself. Gloating over the fact that Asaf Khan, Abu Talib, Prince Hoshang and Prince Tahmuras were to remain in his captivity as long as he wished, since they were guarded heavily by a contingent of Rajput guards. He had already dismissed Prince Shahryar as a craven and weak-willed Prince, who could never aspire to claim the legacy of the empire. Since he had absolved himself of the fear of insurrection on the part of Prince Shahryar, his wish to accomplish something was becoming clear. He was paving the way clear for Prince Perwiz to the throne of Hind, Mahabat Khan had convinced his own self.
Prince Shahryar was neither craven, nor weak-willed as Mahabat Khan had presumed. This Prince was much of a spy as to thwart the designs of the most skilled of generals, both in intrigue or warfare. He was working in alliance with Nur Jahan, the mistress of all intrigues and victories. Each succeeding minute of the day, he was becoming sure that he would accomplish the downfall of Mahabat Khan when the traitor could least suspect. Unsuspected by Mahabat Khan, he was free to roam the valleys of Kabul with no Rajput guards following at his heels. Much like the Roman Claudius, he had managed to deceive not only the Rajputs but also the imperialists, concealing his designs and aspirations, and presenting himself as the most incompetent and unaspiring of all the princes. With this fortune of a deception as his talisman, he would trek the valleys of Kabul like a lone missionary, inciting Kabulis against the Rajputs.
The Kabulis didn't need any coaxing and preaching, for their carefree spirits detested any intruders who could not share their sense of hospitality or camaraderie. The unfriendly and unsmiling faces of the Rajputs were enough to breed hatred and revulsion into the hearts of the Kabulis, and they were seething with rage to break the seals of these proud and presumptuous soldiers. Prince Shahryar was there to hold flint to the maddening rage into the hearts of the Kabulis, and had succeeded quite adroitly. Though he himself might not ever be the Moghul Caesar, Prince Shahryar had his own doubts.
The gilded carriage of the royal couple, with velvet awnings, was now dipping and rising like a thread of gold amidst the undulating hills of this tortuous valley. The slippery paths ahead appeared to be coiling and uncoiling with the languor of a serpent. The wind was hissing through the pines and the cedars, down below the ravines and the gorges sighing in their own abysmal deeps. There were no cheering crowds in this secluded part of the valley, and the ones who had cheered a long distance back, had retired to their wild abodes inside the very heart of Kabul. The royal entourage was to pass through a narrow, winding path concealed by the grand vistas all around, beyond which lay Shahara garden with sprawling lawns in all its glory of color and contour. Inside the carriage, Jahangir and Nur Jahan sat whispering, as if guarding their secrets from the very eyes of holiness in these glens and valleys.
"Did you pray at the tomb of your great, great grandfather, Your Majesty, asking for a boon of wisdom? We could use that, so that our courage and fortitude don't fail." Nur Jahan attempted a light-hearted query. She was letting her plans ferment on their own, into a sweet-scented wine of victory.
"Yes, love." Jahangir murmured, pressing her hand to his lips. "He advised the emperor to abandon his empress, and not ever trust her." He added. Mischief dancing in his eyes like the wicked, little stars.
"Oh, the unfortunate empress! Now the whole world knows that the emperor hates her." Nur Jahan quipped.
"If they only knew how the emperor is smitten by her beauty? Eternally! And crippled by love." Jahangir smiled into her eyes. "Even your sister Manija knows not my pretense, which banishes you from my favor everlastingly. Her husband won the post of governorship through Mahabat's favor, not through any intercession on your part?"
"How Mahabat Khan decided her husband's fate in favor of her is still beyond me, Your Majesty?" Nur Jahan ruminated aloud. "Captive as we are, he is granting us the liberty to visit the tombs of our ancestors and the gardens, another great mystery still?"
"And our visit to Shah Ismail, with only a handful of surly Rajputs! No great mystery though, the emperor retains his absolute trust." Jahangir murmured. An enigmatic gleam shining in his eyes.
"Regardless of that trust, Your Majesty, even if it unfurls the laurels of victory for us, the empress needs avenged." Was Nur Jahan's anguished confession.
"Vengeance sits no near my heart, love, than the tragic memories long forgotten." Jahangir murmured soothingly. "How wistfully we spool and unspool the golden thread of our lives? Knowing, that in death it matters not whether we lie buried in mud with marble tombs over our heads, or blades of grass as our final shrouds." He paused. "The tombs of Mirza Hindal and Mohammed Hakim are sorely neglected, don't you think, love? Though the tomb of Great Babur sits there sculpted in marble, with open arms, to absorb the vast skies and the warmth in sunshine." His gaze was gathering profundities.
"No time for ideation, Your Majesty. We should be thinking of breaking the marble facade of Mahabat Khan's madness." Nur Jahan urged quickly.
"One more dice, my Nur, and it could shatter like glass." Jahangir murmured.
"What dice, Your Majesty? You have kept me ignorant about something?" Nur Jahan's eyes were lit up with agog.
"When the time is ripe, my love, the emperor is going to tell Mahabat Khan that the empress is plotting to murder him. He will be advised not to parade his guards before the imperialists. That would be the time when our troops would rise against the Rajputs, and would imprison Mahabat Khan." Jahangir expounded.
"Your Majesty!" Nur Jahan could barely suppress her exclamation of joy. "The time is now, Your Majesty. Our plans need not be delayed to strike a final blow."
"What plans?" Jahangir contrived ignorance.
"Don't pretend, Your Majesty, that you don't know. Time doesn't allow us the luxury of levities." Nur Jahan was pretending shock and disbelief.
"I know, my love, but the emperor needs assurance from you, over and over again." Jahangir's smile was but a flicker of entreaty.
"You couldn't forget the royal hunting grounds, Your Majesty, where the Rajputs let their horses graze unattended?" Nur Jahan complied, as if rewriting plans in her head. "The Kabulis incited by Prince Shahryar confronted the Rajputs, insulting and blaming these rude intruders for despoiling their pastures. This confrontation ended in a scuffle, and one Kabuli was killed. His friends came to Mahabat Khan for redress and vengeance. Mahabat Khan's evasive reply as to judge the guilty party with trials has set the stage for rage and rebellion from the Kabulis. Mahabat Khan knows not how dangerous the rage of the Kabulis could be, or how savage their sense of pride. Prince Shahryar has assured me that hordes upon hordes of Kabulis are staying in ambush at the very gates of the palace in Kabul to pounce on the Rajputs. Waiting for an opportunity. When Mahabat Khan is away, they will strike. They will slaughter, or already are slaughtering the Rajputs, now that Mahabat Khan is with us, escorting us to this majestic site, Shahara garden?"
"Maybe Mahabat Khan has an inkling of this tragedy? He has been quiet and distracted all morning." Jahangir's contemplations were being slashed by doubts.
"No, Your Majesty." Nur Jahan affirmed quickly. "He has received some news from Agra, as you yourself guessed earlier. You should probe him further, Your Majesty. Tell him you hate the empress, and he would spill his guts out to claim you as his confidant.”
