Bairam Khan was nodding but some others still looked doubtful. Suddenly, Akbar, who usually listened attentively but rarely spoke, rose from the place where he had been sitting and said in a steady, firm voice, ‘I believe you are right, Father. Now is the time to seize our destiny and surprise Sekunder Shah before he succeeds in raising more troops. He has a far greater reservoir to draw on than we.’
‘Well spoken, Akbar,’ Humayun said. ‘I will have Ahmed Khan send scouts to test out the firmest approach route to Sekunder Shah’s camp. It would seem to lie over that slightly higher ground northeast of here. If we go in that direction we may have to ride a mile or so further but it will be worth it. We will not attempt to move our cannon forward but will take some mounted musketeers. Even if only some of their muskets fire because of the damp it will help.’
‘But if we follow that route we will be seen and it will give Sekunder Shah longer to prepare,’ interrupted Nadim Khwaja.
‘I’ve thought of that.To add to the surprise and to conceal our movements, I intend to attack under cover of darkness in the hour before dawn tomorrow. We will make our preparations as inconspicuously as we can today and will rouse our troops at three in the morning to begin our advance an hour later. We’ll move in separate divisions of five hundred men, each identified by a brightly coloured cloth tied around the arm to reduce the chances of confusion in the dark.’
‘Majesty,’ said Bairam Khan, ‘I understand your plan. I believe our men will be disciplined enough to carry it out, trusting as they do in their leaders.’
‘I intend to go amongst the troops towards dusk with Akbar to encourage our soldiers and tell them of our plan and of my faith in it — and in them — to see it through.’
The rain had slackened a little during the day but more dark clouds were gathering on the horizon as, with Akbar, Ahmed Khan and Bairam Khan at his side, Humayun rode up to the cluster of tents occupied by some of Bairam Khan’s cavalry — mostly men from Badakhshan. Humayun had decided to keep his address to this group to the last. He dismounted from his tall black horse and, as the men gathered around, began.
‘Your fathers served my father well as he won an empire. You have served me well in this campaign to win back the lands clawed away by greedy usurpers. Tomorrow you will join me in the vanguard. Together we will face our greatest battle so far. When we conquer, as I know we will, we will regain Hindustan and secure its rich lands for our sons.’
Humayun paused to put his arm around Akbar’s shoulders before continuing. ‘I know that your sons — like young Akbar here — will be worthy of the legacy we will win for them. Remember that tomorrow we fight for their future as well as our own. Let us seize our destiny. Let us show such valour and gain such a victory that our grandsons and their children will still talk with awe and gratitude of our deeds, just as we recall the fabled feats of Timur and his men.’
As Humayun finished a burst of cheering rose from the Badakhshanis. His words had hit home, just as they had with all the other men he had spoken to on his tour of the camp.
Jauhar quietly entered Humayun’s tent at two in the morning to rouse him but found that Humayun was already awake. He had been for some time.While listening to the rain falling steadily on his tent he’d searched his mind, rehearsing his battle plan over and over again to check he had overlooked nothing. Eventually he had convinced himself that he had not.
Then his thoughts had turned involuntarily to the course of his life since he had first left Agra seventeen years ago to confront Sher Shah. At that time — he now realised — he had been immature, too ready to believe that success would be his by right and consequently not sufficiently motivated to apply all his inner resources to achieving it. However, he had never lost his belief in himself and in his destiny, never conceded that a setback, however severe, might be a final defeat. He was immensely grateful that he had been granted a second chance and for that he knew he had deserved his birth name of Humayun, ‘Fortunate’. So many — even kings — only received a single opportunity and, if they did not grasp it, disappeared from history as if they had never lived, all their promise, all their hopes and ambitions evaporating into eternal obscurity. He had learned over his reign that a consistently indomitable spirit was as essential to a ruler as bravery in battle. Today, however, was to be a day of battle and he knew he must put his courage to the test once more.
With that thought, he had begun to prepare himself for combat, a task in which Jauhar now started to assist him, helping him draw on his long yellow leather riding boots and — as he had done since they were both young men — strapping on Humayun’s jewel-studded, engraved steel breastplate. As Jauhar finally handed him his father’s great sword Alamgir, Humayun smiled at him and touching him on the arm said, ‘Thank you for your loyal service during all my troubles. Soon we will be back in our fine quarters at Agra.’
‘Majesty, I have no doubt of that,’ said Jauhar as he held open the tent flaps for Humayun to step out into the wet night air.
Akbar was waiting outside for his father and they embraced. Then Akbar asked, ‘May I not join the attack? I envy my milk-brother Adham Khan who will ride in the vanguard. He will be able to boast of his part in the fight when we again meet our tutors while I. . ’
‘No, you are the future of our dynasty,’ Humayun interrupted.‘If, God forbid, Adham Khan were to fall, Maham Anga would weep but his loss would be a personal one to his family. If you and I fell together our line would be extinguished. I cannot risk that happening so you must remain behind.’
Humayun realised that Akbar had asked more in hope than expectation and could not but admire him for doing so. As he moved away from Akbar towards the place beneath the neem tree where Bairam Khan and his other commanders were waiting, he saw by the ghostly light of one of the frequent flashes of sheet lightning that a few yards away Bairam Khan’s young qorchi — his squire — was bent over being sick as he held on to the reins of his own horse and that of his master. Humayun turned and walked over to him. Seeing him approach, the young man quickly straightened up and wiped his mouth with a cloth.
‘Are you nervous. . or perhaps a little frightened?’ Humayun asked.
‘A bit, Majesty,’ the youth, whose smooth face showed that he was no older than Akbar, admitted.
‘It’s normal,’ said Humayun. ‘But remember something my father told me before the battle of Panipat. True courage is to feel fear but still to mount your horse and head into battle.’
‘Yes, Majesty. I will not let you or Bairam Khan down.’
‘I know you will not.’
The weather had deteriorated dramatically by the time — an hour later — Humayun and the first division of his Badakhshani cavalry halted.They had reached the point where they would need to turn from the relatively firm but circuitous northeastern approach track Ahmed Khan had successfully identified to begin their final assault on Sekunder Shah’s camp. The rain was slanting down harder and heavier than ever, reducing further what little visibility there was in the darkness. Even the flickering sheets of lightning revealed little more than the drenching drops of rain which they turned silver and steel before the peering eyes of Humayun and his men. The occasional rumbles of distant thunder had turned into an almost constant crash and crack overhead. Even the elements were allying themselves to him, thought Humayun with grim satisfaction. From his perspective, the change in the weather was not a worsening but an improvement. There was little prospect that Sekunder Shah’s men would see or hear their approach before they were almost on them.
Minutes earlier, Ahmed Khan had ridden up through the downpour. The rat tails of wet hair protruding from beneath his helmet were now flecked with grey and his face was deeply lined, but the smile that lit it was as broad and as vital as when together they had climbed the sheer cliff to assault the Gujarati fortress of Champnir.