Empire of the Moghul: The Serpent's Tooth (23 page)

‘Jahanara …’

‘Please! Aurangzeb is unhappy. Forgive him, as you once asked me to forgive you. Release him from his confinement.’

‘What then?’

‘Find him some new appointment. If not in the Deccan, then somewhere else where he can use his talents and his energy instead of wasting them and growing bitter. He won’t disappoint you, Father, and that’s not just my opinion. I’ve talked to Dara. Although at first he was angry with Aurangzeb – and offended by his preposterous claims – he says the dispute was not of his making and he is prepared to overlook what happened and see Aurangzeb reinstated if he is contrite.’

‘Why does Aurangzeb dislike Dara so much? Is it simple jealousy?’

‘Perhaps – but it’s not all Aurangzeb’s fault. As long ago as when I was recovering from my burns I saw tensions building between them. Now Dara is so confident in his own abilities and in your favour that even to me he can seem patronising – though unintentionally, I’m sure. Aurangzeb is devoid of humour where he himself is concerned and swift to detect a slight – intended or not – particularly from Dara. Rivalry is a part of it, of course.’

‘Some rivalry is natural, I know, but Aurangzeb spoke as if he hated Dara. What has his brother done to offend him so deeply?’

Jahanara hesitated, then said, ‘There’s the religious divide between them, of course.’

‘Religious? I know that Dara is interested in Sufi teachings and Aurangzeb spends much time with the mullahs but I’ve never imagined religion to be a serious source of conflict between them.’

‘You’re wrong. You know what Dara’s like – tolerant and so curious about everything … Aurangzeb is drawn to the certainties of our Sunni scholars and mullahs and believes that deviating from their orthodoxy is heresy. He believes Dara’s philosophising is heretical and a danger to our rule. I’ve often heard him say that the problems of the Moghul empire are because we have fallen away from the true and strict Muslim path of righteousness. He blames the Hindus and the Shias in your employ for the corruption that he believes is tainting our administration. He told me that while he was in the Deccan he found numerous instances of usury and injustice perpetrated by our Hindu subjects – whole villages exploited as slaves by landowners who keep them in poverty and debt.’

‘It is not religion but character that counts in such matters. If he knew of crimes, it was his duty as my viceroy to put things right.’

‘Of course, and he says that is what he tried to do. But he argues that the rottenness goes to the very heart of government. Encouraged by the more extreme mullahs, he would like every Hindu – “infidels” as he calls them – thrown from high office.’

‘Then he is a fool. My grandfather understood that the way to bind our empire together and make it prosper was to be fair to all its subjects – Hindus such as Ashok Singh as well as Muslims. As you yourself once reminded me, Hindus are among my most trusted and loyal courtiers and generals, and royal Rajput blood runs in our veins.’

‘That’s what Dara says, and that’s why they argue. The last time, only a day or two before the visit to Dara’s mansion, they nearly came to blows when Aurangzeb said we should prohibit the building of more Hindu temples.’

‘Perhaps they both forget that I am still emperor and that it’s for me to decide who holds high office in my empire and who doesn’t and what religious buildings we permit.’

‘I didn’t mean to make you angry. I just wanted to explain one of the things that has gone wrong between my brothers.’

‘Nothing you’ve said explains why Aurangzeb should suspect Dara of seeking to murder him.’

‘Aurangzeb knows now that he was being absurd. But look at things from his point of view. Dara isn’t always tactful. Indeed since they were children he’s enjoyed baiting Aurangzeb. Now that they are men he knows just where to direct his barbs so that Aurangzeb has begun to think Dara his enemy and to harbour exaggerated suspicions, seeing malice in Dara’s every action … But he says that is over now and that he was wrong about the underground room and wants to regain your good opinion. I believe him.’

Shah Jahan was silent. Was she right? Since the incident in Dara’s mansion, Aurangzeb had been living quietly in the fort. Although he’d had a discreet watch kept there’d been nothing suspicious. Not a hint of sedition or even resentment at Dara’s elevation to emperor-in-waiting in all but name. Aurangzeb was either a good dissimulator or else genuinely contrite.

‘Please, Father. Show him you forgive him and allow him the chance to prove his worth. At least allow him to attend your council meetings like Dara and Murad. By excluding Aurangzeb you slight him in the eyes of the court. He is, as we both know, a proud man and, although he would never show it to you, it hurts him.’

‘It wasn’t my intention to humiliate him but to teach him a lesson about the strife behaviour such as his could cause. If, as you suggest, he has learned it, I will allow him to come to the council. It all depends on him. If he behaves himself I may even find a fresh position for him. If not, he will not find me so lenient again …’

Four months later, as servants lit the evening candles in the Hall of Private Audience, Shah Jahan prepared to address his counsellors, Dara, Aurangzeb and Murad among them. In recent weeks Aurangzeb had listened gravely to the discussions but had said little himself except on several occasions to agree almost fulsomely with points made by Dara as the counsellors debated taxes or the suppression of rebellious minor vassals or improvements to the great trunk road that bound the empire together, north to south. Perhaps the animosity between the brothers really was over. Shah Jahan hoped so. The opportunity that had suddenly presented itself to his dynasty might never occur again – at least not in his lifetime – and he couldn’t let foolish arguments between his sons distract him or his senior commanders, nor would he allow them to do so.

Raising his head, he began. ‘This is no ordinary meeting of my council but a council of war. As my governors in Kabul and Badakhshan have been reporting these past weeks, the Uzbek tribes beyond the Oxus river are at each other’s throats and anarchy rules their lands. Their chaos is our opportunity.’

‘What do you mean, Majesty?’ asked Ashok Singh, immaculate as ever in a gold brocade tunic.

‘I mean that the Uzbeks are in no position to defend themselves. If we act quickly, we can advance north and seize Balkh. The city is a valuable trading post and control of it would greatly benefit our merchants in Kabul. But Balkh would only be a stepping stone. Once in Balkh, we can cross the Oxus and take Samarkand just a hundred and seventy miles beyond the river. The golden city can be ours if we grasp the opportunity that fate offers …’

Shah Jahan paused and looked at the faces around him, some expressing enthusiasm, some doubt, but most simply stunned. He’d told no one of his decision, not even Dara. It was the fulfilment of a long-nurtured ambition. Often when unable to sleep, he’d lain in the darkness listening to an attendant reading from his great-great-grandfather’s diaries. He had loved the
Baburnama
ever since he was a boy – Babur’s frank depiction of his years as a young raider prince in quest of a throne, never losing faith however desperate his circumstances, however great the danger, had inspired him. But one thing above all had resonated – Babur’s determination to rule Samarkand, a city he seized not once but three times during his turbulent life. When the reports of the Uzbek disturbances had arrived he had determined to act.

‘You look surprised,’ he went on. ‘You forget that before the Moghuls came into Hindustan we ruled beyond the Oxus. My ancestor Timur made Samarkand his capital and my great-great-grandfather Babur also captured it. The Moghuls have inalienable ancestral rights to those lands.’

‘But Babur couldn’t hold Samarkand, however hard he tried. Ultimately the Uzbeks defeated him,’ said Dara.

‘That was because he was outnumbered. He didn’t have the resources of a great empire behind him, as I have. Also he faced an enemy united under a great Uzbek warlord, Shaibani Khan. At the moment the Uzbeks have no such leader.’

‘I understand what you’re saying, Father,’ put in Aurangzeb. ‘It’s our destiny to reclaim our birthright across the Oxus. And if we succeed, we’ll rule from Samarkand to beyond the Deccan – something not even Timur managed.’

Shah Jahan nodded. Aurangzeb was the only man in the room who looked as if he truly understood what he was proposing and was excited by it, and that disappointed him. Perhaps the rest were still adjusting to the idea.

‘You’re sure the reports are correct, Father?’ Dara was frowning a little. ‘Can we be certain the Uzbeks are fighting each other to the extent we’ve been told? And even if they are, won’t they put their differences aside and unite to resist a foreign invader?’

‘I trust the reports of my officials. One describes a massacre by one Uzbek clan of another when at least five thousand people were killed, women and children as well as men. Uzbek blood feuds run deep. They should be too intent on avenging themselves on one another to pay much attention to us until it’s too late. But of course the situation might change. That’s why we must act now.’

‘You mentioned resources, Majesty. How many troops would you send north?’ asked Ashok Singh. ‘We would need a large and well-supplied army. Conditions in the mountains are tough, and the weather is extreme.’

‘We’ll debate the details later but I suggest at least fifty thousand horsemen and ten thousand musketeers with cannon and infantry to match to take Balkh, then more if necessary to cross the Oxus and move on Samarkand. It depends on the strength of the Uzbek resistance.’

‘But such a vast army will take time to raise. Remember how many of our governors are saying they need longer to assemble troops than in the past … that our nobles grow ever laxer in maintaining standing armies for imperial use,’ Dara persisted.

Dara shouldn’t be so cautious or so questioning, Shah Jahan thought. ‘I know, but any noble who is slow to send troops will be punished. Also, I’ve decided to employ foreign mercenaries. I have already put the Englishman Nicholas Ballantyne in charge of recruiting three thousand of them.’

‘Who will lead the army?’ asked Ashok Singh, posing the question that had most troubled Shah Jahan.

Towards the back of the room, Shah Jahan saw Aurangzeb stand and look towards him. He had proved a capable and decisive commander in the Deccan and was the obvious choice, as he himself must know. Dara had had little direct experience of fighting, Shah Shuja was away in Bengal and would take too long to recall, while Murad was young and untried. He had sat up deep into the night pondering whether he should indeed give Aurangzeb the command. He had very nearly decided to – in most ways it would be the logical decision – but he had not been able entirely to dismiss memories of his son’s irrational and unpredictable behaviour from his mind. The more he had thought about it the more worried he had become. Could he take the risk of Aurangzeb’s suddenly deviating from his orders because of some obsession, or indeed of his either imagining or provoking dissent among his senior officers? As dawn had seeped into his room he had decided that Aurangzeb must wait a little longer for fresh responsibilities.

‘I have decided to give the command of my armies to Prince Murad.’ There were gasps of surprise and a look of pure amazement flashed across Murad’s face. ‘I know this is your first major campaign, Murad, but it’s time you learned the art of warfare and I know you won’t disappoint me. To advise you and to take day-to-day management of the troops I am appointing you, Ashok Singh, who have proved your courage – and your military skill – time and again since we fought together in the Deccan all those years ago. My son can have no better mentor.’

‘But Father …’ Aurangzeb took a step forward. ‘You should send me. Haven’t I just shown I alone understand your ambition? Haven’t I demonstrated to you what I’m capable of as a leader of armies ever since my first campaign against the Raja of Orchha? Did I yield a single patch of scrubby land in the Deccan? Haven’t I made the rulers of Bijapur and Golconda fear me on the battlefield and grovel in their eagerness to secure a treaty with the Moghuls? Let me go to Balkh and you’ll see how quickly its walls tumble beneath the onslaught of our cannon …’

‘No, Aurangzeb. I’ve made my decision.’

‘It’s the wrong one and you’ll regret it.’

Shah Jahan heard sharp intakes of breath all around the hall. This was the very insubordination he had feared. He had been right in deciding not to send Aurangzeb and immediately took a further decision – unpremeditated but one his son had just brought upon himself. ‘I repeat that my mind is made up. In any case, I’ve decided on another appointment for you. I’d not intended to announce it today but I’m sending you to Gujarat. My governor there is elderly and ill and you will replace him. One of your tasks will be to see how well the English are keeping their promise to protect our merchant vessels and pilgrim fleets from pirates.’

‘Gujarat?’ For a moment Aurangzeb said nothing more but stared straight ahead. Like most of the other counsellors, Dara was looking at the carpet, as if wishing to avoid anyone’s eyes, while Murad was glancing between his father and Aurangzeb and back again. ‘If you insist, Father, I will of course go to Gujarat,’ Aurangzeb said at last, the fire in his eyes belying the meekness of his words.