on. The man raised his metal shield to parry Humayun’s first sword stroke but was too slow in getting the heavy shield down to prevent Humayun’s second catching him in his side where it was unprotected by his breastplate. He was not wearing chain mail so the sword bit deep into muscle and rib cartilage. As the officer instinctively dropped his shield and grasped at his wound, Humayun slashed again, this time across the man’s throat, nearly severing his head, and the officer fell from the saddle.
Bent on vengeance, another of the officer’s bodyguards next engaged Humayun, wielding a two-headed axe. He was soon joined by a second and then a third, both with long, double-edged swords. Humayun held them off, wheeling his nimble brown horse and parrying their blows but suffering a minor wound to his cheek from a sharp sword, until some of his own guards galloped up to assist him. Before long, two of his attackers were stretched on the stony earth, cut down by Humayun with sword strokes to head and neck. The third had dropped his sword and was fleeing, blood from a spear thrust to his thigh inflicted by one of Humayun’s guards pouring down his saddle and staining his horse’s light coat.
‘We have driven off most of Sher Shah’s cavalry. His musketeers and archers are pulling back too,’ a breathless officer reported.
‘Good. Establish our archers and musketeers among the boulders where those of Sher Shah were. Turn over some of those baggage wagons to make extra barricades and get some of the guns pulled round ready to fire if Sher Shah tries another flank attack.’
As his men went to work, pushing and straining at the large wooden baggage carts to topple them and bringing up oxen to move the cannon, Humayun rode towards a point a few hundred yards away on the ridge where he could get a better view of the battlefield and ponder his next move. On reaching it, his decision was made for him. Sher Shah’s horsemen had broken through the middle of his line of earth ramparts about three-quarters of a mile away and his own men were retreating before them.
‘What happened?’ Humayun demanded of a short, dark officer on a brown and white horse who was leading a party of about fifty tough-looking Badakhshani archers forward.
‘I am not certain, Majesty, but I was told that after Sher Shah’s first attack surprised us by dividing to encircle the ends of our lines, he ordered a second wave of horsemen to gallop down the ridge in close formation to assault the very centre of our ramparts, a position which was weakened — as he knew it would be, I am sure — by our withdrawal of troops to protect the flanks. So fierce was their charge that they overwhelmed our remaining defenders and drove deep into the very centre of our camp. Baba Yasaval sent orders for us to advance to help defend the position he has established over there, around the base of that outcrop.’
Looking in the direction of the officer’s pointing arm, Humayun saw a great melee of horsemen and could just make out Baba Yasaval’s yellow flag. ‘I trust in the bravery of you and your men. We will drive Sher Shah back. I will summon my mounted bodyguard and precede you into the fight.’
‘Majesty.’
Humayun turned and, beckoning his bodyguards to follow, galloped back up the rise of the ridge towards the outcrop where the fighting was centred. As he rode, he could see more and more of Sher Shah’s men pouring through the undefended breach in his earth ramparts and joining the battle around the outcrop. As he got nearer, he encountered a small group of his own foot soldiers who were running away, abandoning positions which had not yet even come under direct attack. Reining in his horse he shouted to them to return, that all was not lost — but they ran on, eyes fixed and fearful, heading for Kanauj and its crossings over the nearby Ganges.
Only a minute or two later, Humayun was on the edge of the heaving mass of men and of horses around the outcrop. He saw a loose horse gallop away with part of its intestines protruding from a great cut to its belly. Several bodies lay sprawled on the ground, attackers and defenders indistinguishable in death. Baba Yasaval’s soldiers seemed to be slowly yielding ground and being forced back against the steep side of the outcrop but Humayun could still see Baba Yasaval’s yellow flag flying in the middle of the fight. Immediately he charged towards it, leaving his bodyguards to follow as best they could.
Humayun’s brown horse stumbled on the mangled body of one rider whose skull had a great bloody cleft in it but Humayun was a good horseman and the beast was nimble and recovered, carrying Humayun further into the press. He struck one of Sher Shah’s cavalry from the saddle with a single stroke of his sword Alamgir, wounded the horse of a second in the neck, causing it to throw its rider before, collapsing to the ground with a severed windpipe, it brought down another horseman who had been preparing to attack Humayun from behind. Humayun was now what seemed only twenty or so yards from Baba Yasaval. Spying a gap, Humayun pressed forward towards his commander through riders too deeply engaged in fighting each other to notice him.
As he did so, Humayun saw that in fact Baba Yasaval had only about a dozen of his men around him. Three or four of them had lost their horses and Baba Yasaval and their comrades were trying to protect them as they held off Sher Shah’s more numerous attackers. At that very moment, however, one of their assailants — a large, purple- turbaned man with a bushy black beard armed with a long lance — kicked his horse towards one of the dismounted men who was becoming separated from the rest. Despite getting his shield up in front of him to ward off the lance tip, the man was unable to withstand the weight of the charge which knocked him off his feet. He tried desperately to roll away from under the hooves of his attacker’s horse towards his companions but, as he did so, the purple- turbaned horseman pulled back his lance and taking deliberate aim skewered him through the belly before any of Baba Yasaval’s other soldiers could intervene. Quickly twisting his blood-tipped lance out of the body, the purple- turbaned man — surely an officer — retreated back into the mass of his fellows.The whole incident had taken less than a minute, during which Humayun had pushed through to Baba Yasaval’s side.
‘Majesty, where are your bodyguards?’ Baba Yasaval broke off from waving his own men back into tighter formation. Humayun suddenly realised that none of them had succeeded in following him through the press and that Sher Shah’s fighters now completely filled the small corridor through which he had come. They had almost surrounded himself and Baba Yasaval and his men, cutting them off from either help or retreat.
‘Baba Yasaval, we must keep as close order as we can to protect ourselves and each other until either more of our warriors arrive or we can identify a break-out route. If we keep our backs to the wall of the outcrop our rear at least will be protected.’
Humayun and Baba Yasaval waved their other soldiers together, but as they attempted to obey, three of Sher Shah’s riders surrounded a horseman and one of them knocked him from his mount with a swinging flail. One of the fallen man’s companions kicked his own horse forward to try to save him only to be killed instantly by a stroke from a two-headed battleaxe which caught him by his Adam’s apple and decapitated him. Another of Sher Shah’s men meanwhile despatched the man knocked from his saddle by the flail. At the same time, the purple-turbaned officer separated another of Baba Yasaval’s unhorsed men from his protectors and stuck him in the groin with his lance. The wounded soldier’s legs and heels thrashed against the ground for about a minute and then he lay still.
There were now only nine men left with Baba Yasaval and Humayun, two of whom were unhorsed and another badly wounded in the head. Then, the purple-turbaned officer waved Sher Shah’s riders in for the kill as Humayun and his soldiers retreated until they were only a few yards from the side of the outcrop. At this point it was almost twenty feet high and nearly sheer, clearly impossible to ride up on a horse and offering no obvious route for a climber on foot.
One of the nine men with Baba Yasaval was a young trumpeter whose smooth-skinned face had as yet no need of the barber. He still had his instrument strapped to his back. Baba Yasaval shouted to him, ‘Sound your trumpet so we may get help. The rest of you protect him while he does so.’ The trumpeter succeeded in taking his three-foot-long trumpet from his back and putting it to his lips. However, at first no sound came and the youth looked at Baba Yasaval in alarm and panic.
‘Calmly, boy,’ said Baba Yasaval. ‘The excitement and fear of battle have dried your mouth. Cough and try to wet your lips with your tongue.’
The youth obediently coughed and licked his lips before trying again.This time, the full sound issued from the trumpet’s brass mouth — the rallying call of Humayun’s men.
‘And again, boy, and again!’
Three more of Humayun’s riders had been killed in valiantly providing protection for the young trumpeter before suddenly the purple-turbaned officer swerved his black horse towards the trumpeter and with his long lance caught the boy in his right armpit, exposed as he kept the trumpet to his lips, unhorsing him. He was killed by a further stab of his assailant’s lance as he lay on the ground.
Humayun, seeing another of Sher Shah’s horsemen ride towards one of the two remaining men who were on foot, kicked his own horse to meet the rider’s charge, blocking his path to his target. As the man pulled hard at his
