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.
‘Good. You will depart within the next few days. Now let us turn our attention back to details of the Balkh campaign — I am determined to send my army well equipped and provisioned and we have little time to lose.’
Chapter 13
‘You are the only person I can turn to now. You’ve been loyal to us in dangerous times as well as more prosperous ones.’ Jahanara could still scarcely believe that she had asked Nicholas Ballantyne to visit her in the courtyard of her palace on the banks of the Jumna, but many hours of careful thought had convinced her she must. ‘Forgive me. You must be thirsty.’ Turning to an attendant, she said, ‘Fetch some iced sherbet, please,’ before gesturing to Nicholas to sit opposite her on cushions piled beneath a canopy to protect against the afternoon sun.
‘How can I help, Highness?’
‘In a few days’ time my father’s armies depart for the north and you will go with them.’
‘Yes. To lead the foreign mercenaries.’ Nicholas’s expression betrayed his puzzlement.
‘Can I be frank? I am worried about Murad. This is my brother’s first important campaign. He’s had no experience of command or real training for it. I believe my father has made a grave error in appointing him, though I cannot say so.’
‘Ashok Singh has experience of the north. He quelled the tribes in the hills around Kabul some years ago. He will guide the prince.’
‘He will try, but you don’t know Murad. He was only an infant when my father became emperor and still very young when our mother died. He’s grown up in the haram, spoiled and indulged for his good looks and high spirits. He is no fool but he’s used to having his own way and can be impulsive … headstrong even if the mood takes him. My father doesn’t see that side of him. Murad is in awe of him — ever respectful and obedient in his presence — but I know his real nature. Once Murad is far from court, power may go to his head. Equally, it may overwhelm him. Though my father doesn’t agree, I think Ashok Singh — good and loyal general though he is — will find it hard to understand and control Murad’s reactions if my brother is confronted by the unfamiliar or unexpected.’
‘Forgive me, Highness, but wouldn’t you do better to discuss this with your other brothers?’
‘Dara Shukoh doesn’t share my concerns. He thinks it will do Murad good to shoulder some responsibility.’ Jahanara frowned, recalling her brief conversation with Dara, currently so absorbed in the philosophising of the Sufi he had invited to court that he had had little time for what he casually dismissed as her female fluttering and fussing. ‘Shah Shuja is far away in Bengal and Aurangzeb is on his way to Gujarat. In any case …’ She hesitated and cast Nicholas a searching look. Yet if she didn’t trust him, why had she invited him here? She forced herself to continue. ‘Aurangzeb couldn’t be expected to have very much sympathy with my concerns. He thought my father should have given him the command of the army and he was right. Aurangzeb is a resolute campaigner and experienced fighter and was the obvious choice.’