And now this latest news. The Persian shah had taken advantage of his stalled Samarkand campaign to send an army against Kandahar, and after a siege of only fifty-seven days the spineless Moghul garrison had opened their gates to the triumphant Persians. The more he’d thought about it, the more his resentment had grown against Aurangzeb, now waiting for an audience following his return last night to Agra in response to his father’s urgent summons. Aurangzeb’s failures were harder to forgive than Murad’s because he was more experienced. Everything Dara had said was right … Aurangzeb had a conceited view of his abilities and now his shortcomings had been exposed, as Shah Jahan was about to tell him.
‘Send Prince Aurangzeb to me,’ he ordered a qorchi.
Five minutes later his son stood before him, dressed in his usual plain garments. One look at his posture, straight shoulders, head held high, told Shah Jahan that he was in a combative rather than either a humble or penitent mood and that made him even angrier.
‘Well, what do you have to say for yourself?’ Shah Jahan demanded as soon as they were alone.
‘The narrow mountain passes defeated us. Though we managed to drag some of our heavy cannon through several of them the wheels of many of our gun carriages were damaged and some shattered on the rocky ground.’
‘So you abandoned the cannon rather than halting to repair the carriages!’
‘Yes. I saw no alternative. Repairs would have taken time and the damage would have reoccurred. Besides, the guns were slowing our progress and were useless.’
‘They wouldn’t have been useless once you were out of the mountains and on to the flat steppe. How could simple tribesmen have withstood artillery? You should have tried harder. With cannon to support you, you could have been over the Oxus by now!’
‘In my judgement it was impossible to get them to the Oxus, Father.’
‘Did you ever consider advancing without them? No! You retreated in defiance of my orders and brought shame on both me and the Moghul army. No wonder Ashok Singh — a good friend as well as one of my best and most honourable generals — preferred to die.’
‘You call his behaviour honourable? I call it stupid to sacrifice yourself needlessly rather than live to fight again. Whatever he might have thought, my actions were correct. Struggling with the guns delayed us too long. The enemy knew we were coming and with every day that passed were massing to oppose us. What they lacked in modern weaponry they made up for in numbers. I couldn’t take the guns forward. I couldn’t risk the lives of my men by continuing without them.’
‘You could scarcely have lost more men if you had. How many was it?’
‘Almost twenty thousand — five thousand in battle and fifteen thousand dead from disease and cold. The snow and ice came earlier than for many years … Father, for once have some trust in me. I did all that I could. Everything was against me, and the men were restive. They lacked commitment — particularly those from the plains — and there were many deserters. Without my efforts our losses would have been even worse.’
‘Nothing’s ever your fault, but someone else’s! Isn’t that always your excuse? You’ve shown no respect for me either as your father or as your emperor, and far too much belief in your own opinions and abilities. You have disappointed me more than I thought possible. What’s more, you have cost me the lives of too many — including Ashok Singh.’
‘Why harp on Ashok Singh? These Rajputs aren’t like us — their beliefs are warped and their pride insufferable. He would have served the empire better had he simply obeyed my orders and helped me manage the retreat instead of indulging in grandiose gestures.’
‘How dare you deride Rajput pride! The Rajputs’ bravery and loyalty are beyond question and they have been responsible for many of the Moghuls’ greatest conquests. Hold your tongue and listen to me. I summoned you to me in private because what I have to say would reflect no credit on our family if I said it in public. Weakness was something I never thought to have to accuse you of, but you and no one else have brought disgrace on our dynasty by making us appear weak. Because of you, laughing Persians are pissing down on us from the walls of Kandahar …’
‘I see your mind is made up. There is strength, not weakness, in knowing when to suspend your ambitions and how and when to pursue them, so I bow to your will. What do you intend to do with me?’
‘Were it not for the watching eyes of the world, I would banish you to the remotest part of my empire, or perhaps send you on the haj to Mecca since you seem so fond of praying. But I won’t give our enemies the satisfaction of knowing the extent of my anger. You will return to your former post in the Deccan but I will be keeping a close eye on how you conduct yourself. At least all seems peaceful there, so you are unlikely to face any military challenges beyond your capabilities. You will depart within the week. Now leave me.’
‘He understands neither me nor my ambitions and never has because he doesn’t want to.’ Aurangzeb shook his head.
‘But at least he’s sending you back as his viceroy in the Deccan.’ Roshanara moved a little closer and placed a comforting arm round her brother’s shoulder as they stood on a terrace of the Agra fort.
‘He’s only done it to save face — his face, not mine. He wasn’t interested in why the campaign failed — only in what people will say. I’m sure Dara has been stirring him up against me. Both of them should take care not to push me too far.’
‘You may well be right in suspecting Dara has influenced Father against you. While you were away, they spent a great deal of time together. I felt quite left out, Jahanara was so often with them.’
At the mention of his oldest sister Aurangzeb’s face softened. He had always been fond of Jahanara, Roshanara reflected. But it was time he realised that his eldest sister’s first loyalty was to Dara, not him, and that if he wanted a sisterly ally she, Roshanara, was willing and waiting. Perhaps he should know that the First Lady of the Empire might not be as perfect as he seemed to think.
‘Nicholas Ballantyne returned to Agra with you, didn’t he?’
‘Yes. He was wounded in the leg in the final stages of the retreat but has recovered. Why do you ask?’
‘Because of something that happened just before Murad left on campaign. Nicholas Ballantyne visited Jahanara in her mansion. Since then they have been exchanging letters, even while he was away fighting for you …’
‘That can’t be … Who told you that? How do you know?’ Aurangzeb looked stunned.
‘One of my former waiting women is in her employ and tells me what is going on. I tried to talk to Father about it, but you know what he’s like where Jahanara’s concerned, especially since the fire. But who knows the real purpose of their letters? I’m not saying there is anything truly improper, just that Nicholas doesn’t understand our ways and perhaps has been giving Jahanara information about your conduct of the campaign, and she’s been using that to help Dara turn Father against you.’