‘I will not be thwarted. The governor will regret his insolence when he grovels before me in the courtyard of his captured citadel. I must call a war council at once to plan our attack.’ Dara spoke with vehemence, jerking so much in his saddle that his black horse began to skitter sideways.
‘Highness, before you summon the council think what is possible or practical. You must give your commanders realistic prospects of success or else those who have recently joined us may equally quickly disappear again. And — if I may speak frankly — it is not realistic for us at present to attempt to besiege Delhi, let alone to contemplate a full frontal attack. We have insufficient men and, because we have had to move so fast, no cannon. Besides, we know Aurangzeb and Murad’s men cannot be far behind us. We’ve been lucky to outstrip them so far. They could easily attack us in the rear while we were assaulting the city, crushing us against these imposing walls.’
The light of hope seemed to die in Dara’s eyes just as the light of day was leaving Delhi, and it was some time before he spoke. ‘You may be right, Nicholas … I may only have one further chance to turn the tide of my fortunes. I cannot afford to be rash, particularly since I have Nadira and Sipihr with me. It is probably better that for the moment I turn away to the northwest where I can reflect with you and my other officers on our next move at more length and in greater security.’
Nicholas reined in his horse beneath the shade of a group of densely leaved mango trees and patted its sweating neck. Dara rode up beside him and they dismounted. In the dappled light filtering through the branches the prince’s face looked drawn. Dara had said little during their ride from Delhi after the war council had, just as Nicholas anticipated, decided to move northwest towards Lahore where they might expect to find some support. However, what had there been to say? Who could have anticipated that the Governor of Delhi in defiance of orders from Shah Jahan himself would have barred the gates of the city? It was a sign of how quickly the balance of power had shifted since Dara’s defeat at Samugarh.
Now what fate awaited Dara? Secure within Delhi’s great Red Fort, Dara would have been in a strong position. He could have used the contents of the treasure vaults to buy further men and support. Instead, what was he — little more than a fugitive? Not for the first time Nicholas thought back to those days when he had accompanied Shah Jahan himself in flight with Mumtaz and their children from Jahangir. But Dara’s circumstances were even more desperate. Shah Jahan had still had some allies. Dara, it seemed, had very few after his defeat in battle and repulse from Delhi. Though he’d sent messengers to nobles whose loyalty he’d thought he could rely on, he’d not received a single firm promise of support — only unctuous excuses and in some cases not even that. Every day the number of his troops lessened as officers and men drifted away on the flimsiest of pretexts — some presumably to offer their services to his brothers, others to return to their estates or villages to wait out the storm that was surely breaking over Hindustan.
‘My wife’s still feeling unwell. You must have heard her coughing in her palanquin. I’ve ordered a tent to be erected for her in the shade. To help her recover we’ll rest here until the heat drops — perhaps even make camp until tomorrow. We should be safe enough concealed among these trees and scrubland.’ Dara opened his water bottle and took a long swallow. ‘Aurangzeb and Murad must know that we headed northwest from Delhi. I don’t understand why our scouts patrolling to our rear have seen no signs of pursuit. Do my brothers think I’m such a spent force they needn’t bother?’
‘Perhaps they’ve decided to consolidate their hold on Delhi and Agra first … There would be logic in it.’
‘I hope so. I need time. Last night, as Nadira tossed and coughed beside me, I lay awake wondering about Suleiman and his army — whether he ever received my father’s orders to return or whether he’s still chasing Shah Shuja. His troops were the pick of the imperial forces and with them I’d have a chance … I also worry what is happening to my father and my sisters in Agra.’
‘The emperor was in no mood to capitulate. He’ll hold out in the fort as long as he can, I’m certain.’
Dara squatted on the ground and picking up a stick traced patterns in the red earth. ‘I wish I had some way of communicating with him — of finding out what he would wish me to do. I can’t wander aimlessly.’
‘Highness, in my country we have a saying: “If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.” We would all want things to be different but we have to accept them as they are. Don’t forget that when his family rebelled against him Babur lived in caves in Ferghana with far fewer men than you have here. You must believe in yourself.’
‘Forgive my weakness. The change in my fortune has been so sudden. As a first step in planning our revival, how many men did we have left at the last count?’
‘Fifteen hundred or thereabouts.’
‘That’s no army … Why are so few willing to follow me? I’m my father’s chosen heir.’
‘In uncertain times like these, many prefer not to take sides if they can avoid it. Giving allegiance is risky until the outcome is certain.’
‘But they have a duty to me. Their honour demands it.’
‘Men often overlook matters of honour when their lives and property are at stake.’ Nicholas saw Dara frown. He hoped he’d reflect on his words. For all his cleverness and scholarship the prince sometimes seemed naive about men’s motives and the real world outside the court … but then how much contact had he actually had with it?
However, Dara’s thoughts were clearly elsewhere. Then suddenly his face brightened and with an exclamation he tossed the twig aside and got to his feet. ‘I’ve been a fool not to think of it earlier. There is someone whose help I can ask and who I know won’t refuse me.’
‘Who?’
‘A Baluchi leader called Malik Jiwan. A few years ago he ordered the execution of a Moghul tax collector. The governor of the province sent him in chains to Delhi where my father sentenced him to die beneath the elephant’s foot. But Malik Jiwan appealed to me, claiming the tax gatherer had killed a farmer on his estates who had refused his demand for a bribe and had threatened to petition the emperor. Malik Jiwan said the tax gatherer had deserved to die. I believed him and asked my father to stay his execution while I looked into his case. The officials I sent to investigate found his claim was undoubtedly true so I urged my father to pardon him, which he did. He also granted Malik Jiwan in recompense a rich jagir perhaps fifty or sixty miles north of here with a fortress which he has made his home. He should be able to provide me with a sizeable force. We’ll remain here while I send scouts to bring him to me.’
The scouts must have made good progress, Nicholas thought, watching the arrival, just before sunset two days later, of Malik Jiwan with a small escort of blue-turbaned retainers. He was a tall, well-built man in his late forties and his expression as he dismounted from his cream-coated mare and saw Dara was jovial and warm.
‘You are very welcome, Malik Jiwan.’
‘I came as soon as I received you message. You once did me a great service and I’m glad a time has come when I can repay you.’
‘It has. But first I have something to confer on you in recognition of my gratitude.’ Dara clapped his hands and at the signal the unveiled figure of his wife appeared from behind the screen of oiled cloth that separated the two haram tents from the rest of the camp. Nadira, clearly unwell, was carrying a small silver cup and leaning heavily on the arm of an attendant while another attendant followed holding a silver bowl half filled with liquid. Intrigued, Nicholas came a little closer. Even in a rough camp like this, the women stayed hidden away in the haram quarters. In all his years in Hindustan he had never seen a woman of Nadira’s elevated social status — an imperial princess and mother of imperial princes — appear in the open before a complete stranger. Neither had Dara mentioned anything about what seemed like some kind of ceremony to greet the new arrival.