Tara: A Mahratta Tale

by Meadows Taylor

  CHAPTER XLIV.

  "My lord, my prince," whispered the officer of the royal guard,stepping behind the rail in an agitated manner, "be careful ofyourself; there is disturbance without; we will close round you;come away. The Wuzeer--the Wuzeer is--is--dead--killed, they say--atthe outer gate as he entered. Withdraw with us--quick," said the manexcitedly; "the news is spreading fast."

  "Who hath done this?" cried the King, starting to his feet, and seizinghis sword and shield, which, according to custom, lay before him. "TheWuzeer is dead, they say. Is there aught to fear? I move not, AfzoolKhan, come what may. If I am to die, let it be here, on my father'sjudgment-seat. Will ye bear me company?"

  "To death, to death!" exclaimed Afzool Khan. "Who dare harm you? Ho!Alla-ool-Moolks, Bhylmees, Dagtorays, all true men present,--rallyround the King," shouted the Khan. "Deen, deen!" and his familiarbattle-cry, "Futteh-i-Nubbee!" (Victory to the Prophet) rang high abovethe hoarse murmur which had arisen among the assembly. Now, however,those mentioned by the Khan sprang to their feet by scores, and theirexample was followed by hundreds. "Deen, Deen!" was shouted withincreased enthusiasm.

  "Here is one who brings particulars," said the Secretary, as an officerwas led in, who prostrated himself before the King.

  "My lord, the Wuzeer is dead," said the man, sobbing bitterly. "Theymurdered him at the gate. Those who did it went off across the plain,but they were men who had ridden with him. I was upon the bastion overthe gate with a few others, and we saw them come rapidly along theroad from Allapoor. I knew my lord's piebald horse, and his elephantwas following at a little distance. We watched him till he was nearthe gate; there were only a few of us. There was no one present but asentinel and one or two others, and a Kullunder Fakeer had spread hiscarpet just within the walls, and was crying, 'Ulla dilaya to leonga!'as passengers threw their cowrees to him. We were descending the stepsto present our nuzzurs, when several of the men behind dragged theWuzeer from his horse, and others on foot, who had been running withhim, killed him with a hundred wounds ere he could cry out. What couldwe do, my lord? Ere we could mount the bastion again the whole haddispersed. We fired on them, but it was no use."

  "And what became of the Fakeer?" asked the King, looking towards theSecretary.

  "My prince, he stayed with the body, and shut the eyes," replied theman. "Then, as the Wuzeer's elephant arrived, he told the driver totake up the dead, and we saw him go towards the mosque, crying, asbefore, 'Ulla dilaya to leonga!' Hark!" he continued, "there he is."

  "Ulla dilaya to leonga! Ulla dilaya to leonga!" The cry came nearer andnearer, never changing or faltering in its cadence or time--heard aboveall other noises and confusion within and without--"Ulla dilaya toleonga!"--up the steps, along the great corridor, into the hall, whereevery one made way before the brawny form and excited looks of thecrier--who paused not, nor yet looked right or left, till he reachedthe dais. Afzool Khan and Fazil would have stopped him, but he strodeon.

  "Ulla dilaya to leonga!" he cried, looking at the King without salutinghim. "Khan Mahomed is dead, from a hundred wounds. As I closed his eyesI saw this on the ground; it had fallen from him, so I have broughtit;" and flinging a case, containing papers, to the King, he turnedaway without salutation; shouting the old, cry with his right armbare, and stretched high above his head, he strode out of the hall,continuing it as he passed out of the building through the attendantsand troops, and so away.

  "Among these papers," said the Secretary, whispering to the King, "aremany which, if now disclosed, might make men desperate; they are betterkept secret."

  "I am weary of them all," cried the King impatiently; "look at thejudgment of God; we should own it reverently."

  "Zoolm! Zoolm!" (injustice!) cried a knot of men who had collected atone side of the hall, and had risen from their seats. "Is murder to bedone, and pass unchallenged?" Their tone was fierce and defiant, andboded no good.

  "Peace, O friends!" cried Afzool Khan, stretching out his hands tothem. "Is this a time for strife? who can say by whose hands he died?Yet better dead, than for this guilt to be proved before all, by thesewitnesses--his own hand and seals. O friends, brothers in the faith!there is the throne we have to defend, and we should count it holymartyrdom to die before it. We are ready; will ye be tardy?"

  "Deen, Deen! listen to Afzool Khan! Futteh-i-Nubbee!" (Victory to theProphet) the Khan's battle-cry, was shouted with deafening clamour."Death to the unbelievers!"

  "Silence, friends!" cried the Peer, as there was a short cessationof the shouting; "listen to me. One traitor is dead, but are we lessthan men that we permit Sivaji Bhoslay, his accomplice, to defile ourbeards? Deen, Deen! cry to God for victory. Deen, Deen!" he continued,rising and raising his voice to a shrill scream, as he stretched outhis arms, "the Prophet hears us, and Ali, and the holy martyrs, and sowill ye be martyrs and enjoy paradise if ye die."

  Again, again his cry was raised, the fanatical cry of Islam, which noMoslem can hear without emotion; and grave men hitherto unmoved, rousedwith the rest to frantic enthusiasm by the holy man's words, threwthemselves on each other's necks and wept aloud.

  "And now, friends," continued the King, when he could be heard,"let him who would punish Sivaji Bhoslay for a thousand crimes andtreacheries, take up the gage I place here. In the name of God andthe Prophet, let who will take it, I accept him;" and so saying hemotioned to an attendant, who, bringing forward a salver covered witha brocaded cloth, set it down on the edge of the dais before the King,and uncovered it.

  On the salver lay a single birra of Pan, covered with gold leaf, one ofthose which, on the conclusion of the ceremony, would be distributed bythousands. Who would take it up?

  "Are ye laggards, my friends, in pursuit of honour? I thought yondergage would be a mark for men to strive for; are ye laggards, Ofaithful?" cried the Peer.

  The mass--for every one had risen to his feet--swayed to and fro withemotion, but no one advanced; and out of it issued the hoarse ominousmurmur that had several times arisen, and which, in the absence of anydecisive action, caused involuntary apprehension.

  At this moment Afzool Khan stepped boldly forward, and taking up thegage, pressed it to his forehead, eyes, and lips, then, saluting theKing, held it high above his head for all to see.

  "My prince, it is mine," he said, "if it be permitted, and if these myfriends will join me."

  "Ye have heard," said the King, turning to the assembly, "I accept him."

  It was the crowning point of the ceremony, and the people, no longerwithheld by court etiquette, swayed forward to the foot of the daiswith tumultuous shouts of joy. Those without only knew that war hadbeen proclaimed, and their cries mingled hoarsely with the rest.

  "It is well this should cease, my lord," said the Secretary. "Men'shearts are hot, and enough hath been done to-day."

  "Good," replied the King, "let the criers proclaim the Burkhast; andthat there will be preaching in the Jumma Mosque daily, at noon, tillthe army advances."

  "Be that my care," said the Peer, "and their hearts shall be kept hot,I promise you."

  It was done. Attendants went round with trays of Pan, reserving Utr andother sweet essences for those privileged to receive them. The Kingsat to the last, and the great Hall was gradually emptied, save of theroyal guards,--Afzool Khan and his son,--Alla ool Moolk, and othernobles, who had been desired to remain. The Kotwal's fate was yet insuspense.

  "Bring forward Jehandar Beg," cried the King to the officer of theguard; and the prisoner was again conducted to the front of the dais,around which the nobles were now grouped. He saw no hope in thosestern, pitiless faces.

  "See what that case of papers contains, Meerza Sahib," said the King;"there should be no mistake in this matter."

  "There is no need," said the Kotwal, sullenly, to the King. "If you haddied to-day, those who brought me here would ere now have been headlesscorpses. I will answer no more questions. Do with me as you will;except in prayer, my lips open no more."

  "Take him away to death
," said the King. "A kingdom that never punishesis too weak to exist."

  Jehandar Beg was led away through the private cloisters. His head hadfallen upon his bosom; but those who saw it never forgot the fire whichseemed to flash from his large eyes, and the scowl of deadly hate whichhe cast upon all around him as he walked firmly on.

  "We may now separate," said the King. "Forgive me, O friends, who haveas yet known me only as a boy playing about your knees, if I have actedweakly in this first rough lesson of life. O noble Khan, there arethose who await you with tears of joy. What can I say for this serviceyou have done? This sword is known to you; wear it for the sake of AdilKhan. And do thou, Fazil Khan, take these, the first marks of honourthou hast won; but, Inshalla! not the last;" and removing the costlyjewel from his turban, and a heavy necklace of pearls from his neck, heinvested the young man with them with his own hands.

  "I have but one boon to ask, my prince," said Fazil; "it is for myfriend, the Wuzeer's son. I will answer for him with my life, that hewas as true as I am. May I console him?"

  "Take this to him," said the King, removing a gold ring from his wrist;"tell him that from Adil Shah he need fear nothing."

  "Altogether," said our friend the Lalla, who had accompanied the Khanand Fazil, "these Dekhanies have some method in their rudeness; but,after all, they are mad,--quite mad. Such ebullitions of temper couldnot have been allowed in the Padshah's court. Mobaruk, mobaruk bad,Khan Sahib," he cried, heartily yet respectfully, to Afzool Khan andFazil, as they were passing out and receiving the warm greetings oftheir friends,--and of all, high and low, who could reach them,--"letyour poor servant be honoured by his congratulation being accepted."

  "Ah, friend, art thou there?" replied the Khan. "Well, thou must beseen to; come to my house and we will arrange something for thee."

  "May it please my lord to make me news-writer to his army," cried theLalla, joining his hands. "My style, Inshalla!--is----"

  "Well," said Afzool Khan, interrupting him good-humouredly. "Son, wiltthou have him?"

  "I agree, father," said Fazil, smiling, "if he will serve under one whomay, after all, be only a Gosai."

  "I am my lord's slave to death. I am but a poor Khayet, but I can be ofuse to a discerning patron," returned the Lalla.

  "Come, son," said the Khan, "let us see whether Kowas Khan be returned.The King's message should be delivered ere we proceed home. Methinks heand all his people would be safer with us for a few days, until men'sminds are calmer."

  We will not follow the Khan on his benevolent errand; nor can we detailhow much mustard and coriander seed were burned with frankincensebefore them to avert evil when they reached home: nor yet how oftenGoolab, and the other women-servants, and even the lady Lurlee herself,cracked their knuckles over them, till they would crack no more. Onething, however, was certain: the worthy lady was more than ever assuredthat she had read the planets aright, and, if she had not done so, agreat evil would have befallen the family.