Several of Balotra’s villagers had made the journey to trade in Umarkot and knew a safe route but, Simbu had cautioned Humayun with a grave shake of his old head, it was not a journey to be undertaken lightly.
Humayun’s ignorance of events in the wider world made it even harder to take a decision. He knew nothing of what Sher Shah was doing or Maldeo or indeed his half-brothers. Where was Hindal now? With Kamran and Askari? And were his elder half-brothers attempting further conquests to add to the lands they had already stolen? Knowing the extent of Kamran’s ambition he would not be surprised. His half-brother must know that at some point Humayun would come after him and he would be strengthening his position as much as he could. Neither wise old Kasim nor his aunt Khanzada with all her experience had anything to suggest and even his elderly astrologer Sharaf seemed baffled. The stars that shone with such clear and piercing beauty in the night skies offered Humayun no illumination. He knew that, just as his father Babur had done when the world turned its back on him, he would have to rely on his own inner resources to find his answers.
The sound of a woman singing distracted Humayun from his thoughts. Low and sweet, it was a voice he knew well — Hamida’s. At least she was healthy, thriving even, belly round as a watermelon. The child would be big, she would tell Humayun, placing his hand on her stomach so that he could feel the vigorous kicks. Descending the narrow, wooden ladder down from the roof he went in search of her.
She was sitting in the shade of a fig tree spinning woollen thread on a wheel she had borrowed from the headman’s wife, with her waiting woman Zainab holding the skein beside her. Seeing Humayun, Hamida smiled but went on with her song, matching her movements to the rhythm of the music.
‘Where are Khanzada and Gulbadan?’ Humayun asked when the song was ended.
‘Gulbadan has found a quiet place to write that diary she’s started keeping but Khanzada is sleeping. The heat tires her.’
‘But it doesn’t tire you?’
Hamida shrugged. ‘I must keep active and cheerful. It is important for our child and when I think of him nothing seems to matter except that he is born healthy. Gulbadan told me something amusing today — that the mountain clans around Kabul have a way of predicting the sex of a child. They take two scraps of paper and on one they write a boy’s name and on the other a girl’s. Next they wrap the papers in thin sheets of clay which they plunge into a basin of water. Then they wait to see which sheet of clay opens first. . I have no need of such tricks. I know it’s a boy. . ’
She looked so happy, Humayun thought, despite everything. But he still felt guilty. If he hadn’t chosen her — insisted on her — as his wife she would still be with her father. Now, instead of living as an empress, waited on by hundreds of attendants, dressing in gleaming silks and dining off jewelled plates as he had promised her father, he had reduced her to living like the wife of a poor peasant. And far worse than that he had exposed her to danger. He ran a finger along the curve of Hamida’s cheek. ‘As soon as it grows cooler this evening, I will go hunting with Zahid Beg. We might find some ducks amongst the reeds that would make good eating.’
But as Humayun walked along the riverbank to the camp to find Zahid Beg, a rider came galloping into the settlement. Humayun recognised Darya, who had joined Ahmed Khan’s scouts. His grey horse was foamy with sweat and his own clothes were dark with it. He looked only a little less anxious and exhausted than when he had brought the news of Kabul’s fall.
‘Majesty!’ Darya slid from the saddle.
‘What is it?’
‘A column of Rajput cavalry about fifteen miles from here.’
‘How many?’
‘At least three hundred, well mounted and some armed with muskets. They are travelling light and fast — we saw no baggage train.’
‘From which direction are they coming?’
‘From the northwest.’
‘So they could be soldiers from Marwar. . ’ Why had he assumed Maldeo had given up the hunt when the prize was so great? ‘Where is Ahmed Khan?’
‘Still trying to discover whose men they are and where they might be heading. He sent me to warn you but promised he would not be far behind.’
Ten minutes later, Humayun addressed his commanders. Darya’s news had ended his uncertainties. He knew with absolute clarity what he must do.
‘Our scouts have sighted a detachment of Rajput cavalry only fifteen miles away. Whether fate has brought them this close to us or whether they know we are here, I don’t know. But what I am certain of is that we cannot fight here.’ He gestured towards the mud-built dwellings outside which women in cotton saris with brass bangles gleaming on their wrists and ankles were squatting, trying to coax fires of cattle dung into life so they could start cooking the evening meal.
‘But where will we go, Majesty?’ asked Zahid Beg.
‘Over the Luni. The ford a mile upriver from here is easy to cross — no more than a couple of feet deep. I was there yesterday. Then we will head due west across the desert. The headman has told me of a remote place called Umarkot where we should be safe.’
Humayun saw his commanders exchange glances. They too had heard of the desert’s dangers. ‘The desert has an evil reputation, I know. But that is why our enemies will hesitate to follow us, even if they discover that is where we have gone. But don’t fear — we will take a guide from here to lead us. . He will make sure that. . ’
Distracted by the beat of fast-approaching hooves, Humayun looked round to see Ahmed Khan career into the camp raising plumes of dust and scattering hens.
‘Majesty, they are soldiers of the Raja of Jaisalmer. He has allied himself with Maldeo. I learned this from a herdsman who’d sold them some sheep. They boasted to him that they were hunting an emperor, that the scent was warm and that soon they’d be moving in for the kill. But their conceit is greater than their skill. I don’t think they’ve yet discovered exactly where we are. . I watched them ride off to the south. . ’
‘Even so, we have little time. Ahmed Khan, we must quickly strike camp, cross the river and head westward. Summon the headman and ask him to provide us with a guide to lead us through the desert to Umarkot. Tell him I will reward him well — that he will have gold.’
As — watched by startled villagers — his men rushed to douse fires, collapse tents, collect their weapons and fill saddlebags, Humayun returned to Hamida. She had put her spinning aside. Gulbadan was with her now and they were laughing about something, but seeing Humayun’s expression both fell silent.
‘Ahmed Khan reports Rajput soldiers not far from here.’
Gulbadan gasped and Hamida instinctively put her hand on her stomach. Humayun took her face in his hands, feeling the warm smoothness of her skin. Bending his head, he kissed her lips. ‘Courage. No one will harm you, I promise. Pack up what you can. We leave within the hour. Gulbadan — find Khanzada and tell her what has happened.’
‘What’s that?’ Humayun stared at the cloud swirling and dancing along the distant horizon. Surely it hadn’t been there a few moments ago. The sky too had changed — no longer a bright almost turquoise blue but a lowering, steely grey. Humayun’s horse whinnied and tossed its head uneasily. Anil — Simbu’s eighteen-year-old grandson who was acting as guide and was walking by the side of Humayun’s horse — was also peering hard at the rolling billowing shape that even as they watched seemed to grow larger.
‘I saw it only once before, when I was a child. Desert travellers call it “the Demon of the Sands”. . it is terrible. . It’s a great sandstorm with whirlwinds in its midst.’Anil rubbed a hand over his eyes as if, by that gesture, he might make the terrible sight bearing down on them disappear. But as Humayun looked, the great tawny cloud was rushing towards them, blotting out the sun. Suddenly he saw one of the whirlwinds at its centre. It looked as if it was sucking up the guts of the earth and spewing them out.
‘Quickly. . Tell us what to do.’ Humayun leaned down and shook Anil’s thin shoulder.
‘We must make hollows for ourselves and the animals in the sand and lie in them with our backs to the storm until it has passed over.’
‘How long have we got?’
The youth stared again at the advancing turmoil. ‘Only a few minutes. . ’
‘Tell the men to dig themselves into the sand and pull their horses down behind them as extra protection,’ yelled Humayun to Jauhar and Zahid Beg, who had overheard his conversation with Anil. Dismounting and leading
