‘We must not quarrel over this, Hindal. Believe me, this isn’t just some whim or momentary lust for a new woman. I didn’t plan it — it happened. When I saw her at the feast I knew. . ’
But Hindal didn’t seem to be listening. Without warning he launched himself at Humayun who, taken off guard, didn’t move quickly enough. Hindal’s powerful hands grabbed him by the shoulders and the next thing Humayun knew, he was crashing into a tall iron incense burner.
Hearing the noise, Humayun’s guards rushed into the tent. ‘No!’ he shouted, waving them back. Hindal was closing in on him again and Humayun felt his half-brother’s leather-booted foot slam into his ribs, knocking the breath from him. But from the days of his youth Humayun had been a good wrestler — quick and strong — and the skills hadn’t deserted him. Instinctively he grabbed at Hindal’s foot as his brother tried to kick him again and twisted it sharply. Thrown off balance, Hindal’s heavy body tumbled sideways and he hit his head on the edge of the metal-bound chest where Humayun kept his most valued possessions — the Koh-i-Nur and his father’s diaries.
With blood trickling from his temple and looking dazed, Hindal hauled himself to his feet. Before he could steady himself, Humayun ducked forward, pitting his speed and momentum against Hindal’s bulk. Hooking his right foot behind Hindal’s left leg, he succeeded in pushing him backwards, falling with him and landing on top. He seized Hindal’s head with both hands, raised it up then brought it smashing down on the ground. Hindal writhed beneath him, trying to dislodge him, but Humayun’s fingers were pressing on his windpipe. Hindal’s breath was coming in great, rasping sobs as he thrashed wildly, almost sending Humayun flying. However, gripping as hard as he could with his thighs, Humayun stayed uppermost and pressed harder on his brother’s throat.
He felt Hindal slacken beneath him and looked down at his face — it might be a trick, one that he’d used many times himself in wrestling contests — but Hindal’s eyes were closed and his face was purpling. Humayun relaxed his grip and rose cautiously from his brother’s prone body, eyes never for an instant leaving him.
Hindal was taking great gulping mouthfuls of air as he struggled to breathe and his hands were clutching at his neck which Humayun could see was already darkening with bruises. After a few moments, he got shakily to his feet, looking like a great bear that had just been worsted in a fight. The cut on his temple was bleeding even more profusely, so that blood was dripping on to the front of his tunic. But the eyes he turned on Humayun were clear, bright and defiant.
‘Take her then. You are the emperor as you never tire of reminding me. But do not expect to see me again. Our alliance is over. Tonight I will take my men and ride from here.’
‘I didn’t want to hurt you. You forced me to. Don’t act rashly. . I never schemed to take Hamida from you. . but when I saw her I knew it was meant to be. . ’
A sneer spread across Hindal’s bleeding face. ‘Meant to be. .? You still don’t understand the minds of men, do you, not even your own brother’s. You inhabit a different world in which you confuse fate or destiny with your own desires and much good may it do you. Goodbye, brother.’ Drawing himself up, Hindal spat slowly and deliberately on the carpet, sending a gob of bloody saliva to land just in front of Humayun’s right boot. Then, without a backward glance, he walked slowly and painfully but straight-backed towards the entrance of the tent, looking to neither right nor left as Humayun’s bodyguards parted to let him pass.
For a moment Humayun was tempted to go after him, but what would be the point? After what had been said, there could be no going back. ‘Jauhar,’ he called. As soon as Jauhar was by his side, Humayun lowered his voice so they would not be overheard. ‘Send my bodyguards immediately to the tents of my brother’s women.They are to find Hamida, daughter of Shaikh Ali Akbar, my brother’s vizier, and escort her into the care of my aunt. Hurry, and let me know as soon as my orders have been carried out. . ’
Half an hour later, Jauhar returned to report that Hamida had been taken to Khanzada. Outside, Humayun could hear men shouting and running about, oxen bellowing, the jingling of bridles and the neighing of horses. Peering out through the tent flaps he saw by the orange light burning in the braziers that Hindal’s men were striking camp. His half-brother’s tent had already been collapsed and was being loaded on to a cart. As he continued to watch, Humayun made out a familiar figure hurrying towards his tent through the press.
‘Humayun, what have you done?. . Have you lost your mind?’ Khanzada shouted even before she was inside Humayun’s tent. ‘How can you hope to succeed if Hindal leaves? And all because of a woman you caught a fleeting glimpse of, a woman you’ve never even spoken to and whom without telling me you’ve consigned into my care.’ He had seen his aunt angry many times before but never with such a look of outraged bafflement in her eyes. ‘Forget this madness. Go to Hindal now, before it is too late, and tell him you will give up the girl.’
‘I can’t, Aunt. It’s as if I had no choice. . ’
‘Rubbish!’ Coming closer, she stared into his eyes. ‘Are you taking opium again? Having hallucinations? Is that what is making you act so crazily? I saw Hindal’s bruised and bleeding face. . is that the behaviour of an emperor, to pound your brother into submission and drive him from your camp?’
‘He attacked me. . ’
‘That’s not the point. He was loyal to you at a time when few others are, when our dynasty’s fate in Hindustan has never been more uncertain. Your latest madness has left us in desperate straits — how many men do you have left of those who rode with you from Lahore? Eight or nine thousand only. I know because Kasim told me. If Hindal goes, how many will you have then? Five or six thousand at most. And how many of them will stay when they begin to doubt your judgement? Soon you’ll barely have enough to defend us from brigands and dacoits, let alone get back your throne. And all through unbridled, heedless, selfish desire. . ’
‘No.The moment I saw Hamida, I felt something different from mere physical desire, something I’d never experienced. . I knew love had overwhelmed me and that I wanted her as my wife. I had not thought such things possible but it happened. I promise I’m not fuddled with wine and opium. My mind is clear and I know that what I am doing is right. Aunt. . ’ he laid a hand gently on her shoulder, ‘trust me and help me in this. . I beg you. . ’
‘I can’t. I’m getting old, Humayun. I’ve seen too much, suffered too much, to have any energy left. Ever since Babur died I’ve tried to help you as I promised him I would. You have shown you are a fearless fighter but you have so much to learn about being a king and I wonder whether you ever will. You are different from your father. Babur always used his head. His marriages — even to your mother whom he loved — were considered acts. He didn’t behave like a selfish boy who must always indulge his lusts and desires without a thought for the consequences. First opium. Now this.’
‘But Aunt, as I keep trying to tell you, my feelings for Hamida go far beyond simple desire. . ’ ‘And what about Hamida’s feelings, left here without her father? You know of course that Shaikh Ali Akbar is going with Hindal? He has just been to bid his daughter goodbye.’
‘I didn’t know.’
‘Gulbadan is trying to soothe Hamida but she is distraught. Truth be told, Gulbadan is distressed too, though she has chosen to stay with me rather than go with her brother.’
‘I never meant that. . I. . ’
‘No more, Humayun.’
Khanzada turned and left the tent. Humayun waited, hoping she might relent and come back but she didn’t. He sat down and for a while just stared into the dancing amber flame of an oil lamp. Was his aunt right as she so often was? Certainly, he had been impulsive — reckless even — and he had hurt Hamida. He had also broken the fragile bonds that had been forming between himself and Hindal.
‘Majesty.’ It was Jauhar and in his hand was a piece of paper which he held out to Humayun. ‘Shaikh Ali Akbar asked me to give you this.’
A fierce happiness filled Humayun, overriding any lurking feelings of doubt or of guilt about his behaviour towards Hindal. ‘I will protect her with my life, Shaikh Ali Akbar. I will make her happy.You have no cause to fear,’ he whispered to himself.
Next day, riding at the head of his depleted column across a pale landscape baked hard by the sun, Humayun still felt suffused with joy. If only the price had not been his rift with Hindal. An hour ago his heart had quickened at the sight of dust rising from the road ahead. Seized by hope that Hindal had changed his mind and was coming back, he’d despatched scouts to investigate but they’d found only a group of silk merchants with their mules. By now Hindal was probably some miles to the northwest of Humayun’s column.According to Kasim, who had spoken briefly to one of Hindal’s commanders, his half-brother planned to cross the Indus and head north.
