The Crows of Agra

by Sharath Komarraju

  Akbar opened his mouth to speak, but Mahesh Das held up his hand. ‘Fourth: Ruqaiya Begum behaved quite oddly the following day. She visited Bairam Khan’s room and when I walk in on her I find that she has not gone towards the body, where I expected her to go, but towards the weapons cabinet. Ruqaiya Begum’s window in the harem is quite uniquely positioned and it gives her full view of the garden behind the path leading up to Bairam Khan’s house, something Gulbadan Begum could not see from her window. And I knew that Ruqaiya Begum had stood at the window on the night and looked out, a fact that she denied on our first meeting, a fact that was confirmed to me when I saw a perfume mark on the window sill. She had been applying it when she saw something that made her stop.

  ‘What she saw was somebody steal around the garden path towards Bairam Khan’s house. Then the next day she visits the regent’s chambers and when I catch her there, she lies about the reason for her visit.’

  Ruqaiya Begum had lost all her colour and was pale as a sheet. She leaned against the pillar to steady herself.

  ‘That night I also noticed that the emperor’s kurta was torn. Something that struck me as strange, since the emperor always wore such sparkling clothes. That led me to guess—and it is only a guess—that perhaps the emperor’s kurta had been caught on the spear of one of the soldiers, as he hurriedly stepped out of the shadows, rushing towards his kill.’ He turned to Ruqaiya Begum. ‘Is that true, madam?’

  Ruqaiya Begum did not respond. Instead, she looked at Akbar helplessly.

  ‘I had the feeling then that Ruqaiya Begum had returned to the room either to remove something that incriminated the killer or to add something to create fresh doubt on someone. But since the only person Ruqaiya Begum seemed to dislike was Salima Begum, and since I could not find anything in the room that framed her, I assumed that it was to remove something that she thought would cast doubt on someone she loves.’ Mahesh Das inclined his head towards Akbar’s direction. ‘And whom does Ruqaiya Begum love more than you, Jahanpanah?’

  A smile had begun to form on Akbar’s lips. ‘I do not suppose that you will stop even if I asked you to.’

  ‘I have come this far, my lord,’ said Mahesh Das. ‘Let me go all the way. The fifth thing that struck me was the fact that while Salima Begum was definitely in your chambers for the two hours between then ninth and the eleventh that night—because the guards outside heard her voice at regular intervals—you may not have been present throughout. Perhaps you were there for the first thirty minutes or so, and then you exited the room through your window and gone to Bairam Khan’s. Only to return at the eleventh gong and appear at the door when Salima Begum left. It was on my second visit to the emperor’s chambers that I saw him return from an incognito trip through the back window. This window is neither guarded nor kept under watch, so the king could use it to slip away without being seen whenever he wanted.’

  ‘Ha!’ said Akbar. ‘That is preposterous!’

  ‘But possible,’ said Mahesh Das. ‘The guard only hears Lady Salima’s voice, and says that your voice was muffled and low, as though you were trying to soothe her. I think it was Lady Salima herself speaking both times, so as to give the impression of a conversation.

  ‘So this is what happened, Your Majesty,’ said Mahesh Das, his voice suddenly finding a confident note. ‘Before leaving for the dinner, Salima Begum, unbeknownst to Bairam Khan, opens the window, but leaves the panes shut and unbolted. Bairam Khan, if he looked at them, would think that the window was closed.

  ‘At half past eight, the emperor and Salima Begum leave together to the emperor’s chambers. They reach perhaps at a quarter to nine. For fifteen minutes they engage in conversation. The guards outside think that there are two people inside. But at nine, the emperor leaves his room through his window, and makes his way to Bairam Khan’s house, where he knows that the window has already been left open.

  ‘Now, at a quarter past nine, he opens the window, lets himself in, keeps the window shut but unbolted, and takes his place among the tin soldiers.

  ‘Meanwhile, Bairam Khan leaves the dinner party at half past nine and is home in time for his tenth gong appointment with Atgah Khan and Adham Khan. The three of them have a conversation, which the emperor overhears from his hiding place in the corner. The two visitors leave at half past ten, leaving Bairam Khan alone.

  ‘The emperor waits until Bairam Khan goes into his bedroom, then closes the window so that the sounds of the room will not go out, and then kills Bairam Khan. This is at a quarter to eleven. Whether there is a struggle or not, I do not know, but after the body is placed where he wants, the emperor opens the window, slides out, and leaves for his chambers.

  ‘At the stroke of eleven he returns to his chamber, where Salima Begum has kept up the pretend conversation. Once he returns, he joins the conversation again, and at a quarter past eleven, Salima Begum leaves from the emperor’s chambers to go to Bairam Khan’s house.

  ‘Now we see the second part of the drama play out. Salima Begum arrives at the corridor, and sees that the servants are present in the garden. She goes to admonish them and order them away, but she is also making sure that they see her and note the time. Then she goes into the room, shuts the door behind her, tiptoes to the window, shrieks at the top of her voice, bolts the window quietly, returns to the body, and falls down.

  ‘This takes no more than two minutes, and can be easily explained away as shock. Nazneen and Ahmed come running to her rescue, and they find the regent dead and the window bolted from the inside.’

  Akbar’s smile broadened. ‘You are a smart man, Mahesh Das, smarter than I thought you were.’

  Mahesh Das went on. ‘One of the things that puzzled me the most was why the weapons in Bairam Khan’s house had to be sharpened the night before he was to leave for Mecca. Salima Begum had them sharpened because the emperor would use one of these weapons to kill Bairam Khan. Atgah Khan was onto this very theory. And when I told you this, my lord, you must have spoken to Adham Khan and flared him against Atgah. What you told him and how you managed to raise his anger to a level that made him kill, I do not know. But I think it is you who instigated Adham Khan to kill Atgah.’

  Akbar nodded. ‘Instigating him was the easiest part. I just had to tell him that if he killed Atgah, I would make him General of the Army, and I promised him Delhi as well. I find that it is easy to promise the world when you have no intention of keeping your word. Both of them were traitors to the throne, along with Khan Baba. I had to kill them all. They were plotting to kill me and take Agra for themselves that night.’ A tiny flicker of sadness crossed his eyes. ‘I had to protect the throne.’

  ‘Indeed,’ said Mahesh Das. ‘But why, sire? Why plan such an elaborate murder when you could have killed them all just by decree?’

  Akbar smiled. ‘Can you not use that sharp mind of yours to answer that question?’

  ‘I could, but it will be merely that. A guess.’

  ‘Let us see how good you are. Again.’

  ‘I sense that you must have known for a while now that Bairam Khan had designs for the throne. I do not know how you came to this knowledge. Perhaps Maham Anga told you. Perhaps Salima Begum told you. But you knew, did you not, from the beginning? Even when you pardoned him after the battle of the Siwalik, you knew that he had been scheming against you.’

  ‘Indeed, I did,’ said Akbar. ‘But I also knew he was not doing it alone. I had to find the others.’

  ‘And Atgah Khan was one of the others, I suspect,’ said Mahesh Das. ‘So was Adham?’

  ‘Both of them. Maham Anga…I was not certain of her, but I had to be wary.’

  ‘But you could have executed them all, by royal command.’

  Akbar smiled. He picked up the ends of his tunic in both hands and walked away. ‘I could have,’ he said. ‘But what would that have made me?’

  Mahesh Das looked at him.

  ‘It would have made me a tyrant in the eyes of the people.’ Akbar took a deep breath. ‘Th
ey would have said what kind of king could kill his own family members—his own uncle, his own guardian, his own cousin? If he cannot show compassion to his own family, how could he be compassionate towards us? What would history make of me?’

  A gentle breeze made the fallen leaves stir. ‘Now I have removed all the resistance to my path, and the people will call me just and wise. They will say that I have punished both Khan Baba and Atgah’s killer. I shall emerge with sympathy, because I have lost my whole family in a week, and I shall deal with their losses with dignity.’ He held a hand to the pillar to his right. ‘Khan Baba had once told me: you decide your own destiny. You can be a tyrant or a hero. And that will depend on how your actions.’

  He turned to Mahesh Das. ‘I have chosen the better way of doing what I had to do. Only the ladies of the harem,’ he gave them a nod ‘and now, you, know the real story. The world out there does not. It shall not.’ He smiled, the same innocent smile that Ruqaiya Begum must have fallen in love with all those years ago.

  ‘Indeed,’ said Mahesh Das, bowing.

  ‘Who’s there?’ said Akbar.

  Four guards appeared from the shadows.

  ‘Take the ladies back to the harem. It is time they sleep, for Allah knows they have not slept much in the last few days,’ said Akbar.

  The ladies followed the guards. Salima Begum took a few steps and then stopped to look over her shoulder and smile at Akbar.

  They were now alone, and for a while they watched the leaves dance in the wind.

  ‘You have given ample evidence of your mental prowess, Mahesh Das,’ said Akbar. ‘You are quicker of mind that I thought any man could be. This time, you were quicker than even I.’

  ‘No one can be as quick as you are, Your Majesty, in foot, hand or mind.’

  Akbar turned to face Mahesh Das, then placed both his hands on his shoulders. ‘In the few days you have been here, I have learnt a lot from you. I think it is people like you Maham Anga was referring to when she said I had to grow my own eyes and ears. Will you by eyes and ears at the palace, Mahesh Das?’

  ‘My lord,’ said Mahesh Das, joining his hands in reverence, ‘there is no greater honour.’

  ‘I shall give you a place in the court. You shall be my musahib-e-danishwar.’

  ‘The lord is truly merciful, Your Highness.’

  ‘You do not need to change your religion,’ said Akbar, looking down at the sacred thread dangling at Mahesh Das’s chest. ‘But I shall change your name. Mahesh Das is no name for a courtier of your stature.’

  ‘Anything you wish to call me, sire.’

  Akbar paused. For a moment the king and knave stood in the silver moonlight.

  ‘From now on,’ Akbar said finally holding out his hand, ‘we shall call you Birbal. The Wise One.’

  Mahesh Das fell to his knees, and taking the emperor’s hand in his, kissed the ring.

  ‘Then I shall be Birbal,’ he said, ‘for you and for everyone.’

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