‘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.’