‘Hindal, there’s a young woman sitting by your sister whom I don’t recognise — take a look and tell me if you know her.’ Hindal rose, went across to the screen and peered round. Then slowly he returned to Humayun’s side.
‘Well?’
It seemed to Humayun that Hindal hesitated before answering. ‘Her name is Hamida. She’s the daughter of my vizier, Shaikh Ali Akbar. . ’
‘How old is she?’
‘About fourteen or fifteen. . ’
‘To which of the clans does Shaikh Ali Akbar belong?’
‘His family is of Persian descent but were long settled in Samarkand until, in our father’s time, the Uzbeks drove them out. Shaikh Ali Akbar fled as a young man and eventually found his way to my province of Alwar. I made him my chief counsellor there.’
‘Is he a good counsellor?’
‘Yes. And something more than that, perhaps. The blood of a famous mystic runs in his veins — Ahmad of Jam, who had the ability to foretell events. In his lifetime he was known as
‘Tomorrow morning before we march send Shaikh Ali Akbar to me. I wish to talk to him.’
Humayun barely slept that night. Though in Sarkar he had told Mirza Husain he would not take a wife until he had won back his throne, he knew in his very soul that he must marry Hamida. There was no thought, no logic to it, just an overwhelming attraction. A feeling which, despite his many previous lovers, he had never experienced with such overpowering intensity before, not even when he had chosen Salima. It was not simply the desire to possess Hamida physically — though that was certainly a part of it. Instinctively he sensed within her a beauty of mind, a strength of spirit radiating out towards him. He knew that not only would she make him happy but that with her by his side he would also be a better ruler, more able to achieve his ambitions. However hard he tried to dismiss such thoughts as irrational and better fitted to a blushing adolescent, they returned with renewed vigour. Was this what the poets described as falling in love?
Even before it was light, Humayun washed, dressed and then, dismissing his attendants, waited impatiently. At last his men began to stir, kicking the smouldering embers of last night’s fires into new life and starting to pack up their tents and possessions ready for the day’s ride.Then he heard footsteps outside his tent and Jauhar held back the flap as Shaikh Ali Akbar ducked inside.
‘Majesty, you wished to see me.’ Shaikh Ali Akbar was tall and, like his daughter, fine-boned. He made graceful obeisance to Humayun and waited.
‘I saw your daughter, Hamida, at the feast last night. I want to make her my wife. She will be my empress and the mother of emperors. . ’ Humayun burst out.
Shaikh Ali Akbar looked astonished.
‘Well, Shaikh Ali Akbar?’ Humayun persisted impatiently.
‘She is so young. . ’
‘Many are married at her age. I will treat her with great honour, I promise you. . ’
‘But my family is not worthy. . ’
‘You are nobles of Samarkand. . Why object if I wish to raise your daughter further as my father did my own mother? Her father — my grandfather Baisanghar — was a nobleman of Samarkand like yourself.’
Shaikh Ali Akbar said nothing. Puzzled, Humayun stepped closer. From the man’s troubled face something was wrong. ‘What is it? Most fathers would rejoice.’
‘It is a great, an unimaginable honour, Majesty. But I believe. . no, I know. . that your half-brother Prince Hindal cares for Hamida. He has known her since she was a child. I serve him and it would be disloyal of me to give her to another, even you, Majesty, without telling you this.’
‘Are they yet betrothed?’
‘No, Majesty.’
‘And Hamida. What are her wishes?’
‘I do not know, Majesty. I’ve never spoken to her of such things and I have no wife who could have done so. . Hamida’s mother died of a fever soon after she was born.’
‘You have been honest. I respect that but I repeat that I wish to wed your daughter. Give me your answer within a week from now. And Shaikh Ali. . my brother told me that the blood of a great seer who could foretell events runs through your veins. . If you, like him, have the power to see into the future, use it. You will see that greatness — and happiness — await your daughter if you will give her to me.’
‘Majesty.’ But Shaikh Ali Akbar’s face still looked anxious and unhappy as he turned to leave. Shafts of sunlight came pouring into the tent, dazzling Humayun for a moment, as Shaikh Ali Akbar pushed the entrance flap aside and vanished.
That day, needing space to think, Humayun decided to leave the main column and gallop alone. As the rhythmic thud of his horse’s hooves filled his ears, he was still trying to come to terms with these feelings so unexpected, so overpowering, so sudden. No other woman had roused such sensations in him. Something darker was also lurking in his heart — guilt that he wanted to take a woman loved by his half-brother. But he could not get Hamida’s exquisite face, her shining personality, out of his mind. He would make her his empress however much he bruised Hindal’s feelings.
That evening, Humayun was splashing his face with cold water brought to him in a brass ewer by Jauhar when he heard raised voices outside his tent. Then Hindal burst in, still in his riding clothes, soiled and dusty after the day’s journey.
‘Is it true?’ Hindal’s voice was quiet but his eyes were burning.
‘Is what true?’ Humayun gestured to Jauhar to withdraw.
‘Shaikh Ali Akbar tells me you wish to marry Hamida.’
‘Yes. I want her for my wife.’
‘She. . she is the daughter of my vizier. I watched her grow up. . My claim to her is stronger than yours. . ’ Hindal seemed almost hysterical.
‘I did not want to cause you pain, but it will pass. You will find another woman to please you. . ’
‘These last few months I thought we had come to understand one another. I trusted you. I gave you my support when — like Kamran and Askari — I could have sought my fortune elsewhere and perhaps fared better.What reward have I had for following you? Nothing! We fled Lahore with our tails between our legs. In Sind we fared little better — fed like little lapdogs by Mirza Husain until we took ourselves off. Still I remained loyal and worked to keep my force of men together in the hopes that soon you and I would be fighting shoulder to shoulder against Sher Shah. Instead, like a thief in the night, without a moment’s thought, you have decided to abuse your position as head of our family to steal the woman I love. . ’
‘Believe me, I didn’t know that you cared for her until I spoke to her father.’
‘But it didn’t stop you when you found out, did it?’ Hindal came closer. ‘Kamran and Askari were right.You are the self-appointed centre of your own universe. For years you ignored us, leaving us to fester in our provinces while you played the great emperor. It was only because you needed us against Sher Shah that you began to speak of fraternal duty, of bonding together against a common enemy.’
Hindal’s voice was rising to a shout and he was shaking with pent-up fury. Instinctively, Humayun glanced to the chest on which a few minutes earlier Jauhar had placed Alamgir in its jewelled scabbard. He still had his dagger and could feel its hard metal hilt pressing against his ribs beneath his sash.
‘Be careful what you say, brother. . ’
‘Half-brother only.’
‘You forget why I sent you and the others away. You plotted against me. I could have had you executed. . I gave you back your life.’
‘I was just a youth, easily led. If you’d shown any interest in me it would never have happened. But all you ever wanted to do was stare at the stars. . You still have no desire to know what I’m really like, what my hopes and aspirations are. You just want my unquestioning loyalty and obedience so you can realise your own ambitions. . ’
Humayun had never seen or heard his half-brother so animated. He was breathing heavily. His face was flushed, his nostrils were dilated and a vein throbbed at his temple.
