‘Where is Askari?’
‘In Kabul.’
‘And Hindal, what have you done with him?’
‘I haven’t killed him, if that’s what you mean. He’s a captive in Jalalabad for his disrespect to me.’
‘How can you speak of “disrespect” after how you betrayed me — offering alliance to Sher Shah to fight against your own blood? Sneaking like a thief into Kabul?’
‘You are in no position to criticise. This beauty by your side — I heard you stole her from Hindal.’ Kamran leaned closer to Hamida. ‘But I can see she’s worth it. I wouldn’t have let brotherly love, brotherly loyalty, stand in my way either.’
Humayun felt Hamida tauten and he increased his pressure on her arm. ‘What do you want, Kamran? If you intended to kill me I’d be dead already.’
‘True. I don’t share your sentimentality about blood bonds and so-called brotherly love. For me, it’s always been
‘Then what’s stopping you?’
‘The only reason I haven’t drawn my blade across your jugular — tempted as I am — is that it would stir up blood feuds among the clans. But if I am seen to have defeated you and acted with mercy, chiefs once loyal to you will give me their support. You are more useful to me alive and humiliated than dead.’
‘So what do you want?’
‘Your promise to leave Hindustan and our ancestral homelands and go so far away that I can forget you ever existed.’
‘Go where?’
‘Persia has a pleasant climate and you’ll find the soft living there to your taste — plenty of opium and plenty of beautiful women.’
‘And if I refuse?’
‘I will kill you here and now and face the difficulties with the clans. I will enjoy feeling your warm blood on my hands.’
‘I’ve never understood why you hate me. It wasn’t my fault our father chose me.’
‘Wasn’t it? It was your fault he seldom gave me a thought. You played the perfect warrior, the shining emblem of what he hoped to achieve. I’ve despised your vainglorious conceit ever since we were boys and you assumed I was happy to trail admiringly in your wake. When we became men you assumed you could continue to patronise me. . But my ambition is as great as yours. . I want the empire our father forged with his blood and sweat and I deserve it more than any of Babur’s sons. Askari already accepts this and will do what I say. Hindal will learn to, if he’s wise.When I am ready I will take on Sher Shah and drive him out. The
‘Our father knew what you were like, that you were devious, self-serving and my enemy. . that you were a traitor. . he tried to warn me.’
‘Shut up.’ Kamran’s voice had risen and Akbar began to cry.
‘Your son sounds strong and lusty.’ Kamran’s green eyes flicked across to the basket on Hamida’s side of the bed. ‘Let me see my nephew,’ he ordered Hamida.
She glanced anxiously at Humayun, who nodded. Gathering her robes around her, she slipped from the bed, lifted Akbar from his basket and carried him slowly towards Kamran.
‘Watch my brother. If he moves so much as a muscle, kill him,’ Kamran said to his men, three of whom stepped forward from the shadows towards Humayun. Meanwhile, Kamran withdrew his dagger from Humayun’s throat, slid it into its scabbard and moved towards Hamida.
If only Hamida and Akbar had not been with him, he could have taken Kamran now, Humayun thought, calculating the distance between himself, his brother and his brother’s men. He knew he could leap up and grab Kamran as a shield before one of his men had time to fire an arrow or throw a dagger. But as it was he could do nothing but watch as Kamran pulled back the thick sheepskin in which Akbar was wrapped and inspected the small, bawling face.
‘Give him to me.’
Again Hamida looked across at Humayun and again he nodded.
Kamran took hold of Akbar, who seemed to like the change and suddenly stopped his crying. For a moment Kamran scrutinised his face.‘Well, do you accept my terms, Humayun?’ As he spoke Kamran took one of Akbar’s tiny hands in his, but his eyes as he looked across at Humayun were as unconcerned and cold as if he were handling a piece of meat.
‘I accept, but only because I have no choice. But I tell you this. One day I will make you pay for what you have done.’
‘Remember, I hold your heir in my hands. Provoke me further and I’ll order my men to take him outside and lay him naked in the snow. How long do you think he will last before the cold or the wolves kill him?’
Hamida gasped and Humayun watched helpless as Kamran chucked a laughing Akbar under the chin.
‘No words, my silver-tongued half-brother, not even of farewell? It’s not like you, the great emperor, to be so discourteous.’ Their eyes locked but Humayun remained grimly silent. With a contemptuous shrug, Kamran stepped towards the entrance of the tent, still cradling Akbar.
‘Give me back my child!’ Hamida cried out.
Kamran turned back to her. ‘I don’t trust Humayun, even though he’s so fond of boasting about how honourable he is. I need a guarantee that he will do what he has promised and go to Persia. My nephew is that guarantee. . ’
Before he’d finished speaking, Hamida flew at him, trying to pull Akbar away. As Akbar started screaming again, Kamran pushed Hamida hard. As she fell back, catching her head against the edge of a wooden chest, Kamran handed Akbar to one of his men. ‘Take the child outside,’ he ordered.
But Hamida hadn’t finished with Kamran. Though dazed, she struggled up and launched herself at him again, raking his face with her nails and drawing blood. Kamran took her by the shoulders and pushed her off him. ‘It’s a shame. With so much fighting spirit you would have made a better empress than your husband has been an emperor.’
At that moment there was a movement behind the curtained-off alcove and the tall figure of Maham Anga appeared. In the shock and confusion Humayun had forgotten all about her. Similarly taken by surprise, Kamran released Hamida and drew his dagger. ‘Who are you?’ Blood was running down his cheek where Hamida had scratched him.
Maham Anga ignored Kamran but addressed herself to Hamida.‘Majesty, I heard everything. As Akbar’s milk-mother, I should go with him. I swear to you that I will protect him with my life.’ The expression on her handsome, high-cheekboned face was stubborn.
Hamida’s eyes were shining with tears but she controlled herself as she turned to Kamran. ‘This is Maham Anga, my son’s wet-nurse. I ask that you take her with you to care for my son.’
‘She may come.’ Kamran looked again at Humayun. ‘Your women are braver than your warriors.We captured your men as they slept — they are tied up in their tents like chickens for market. The only blood shed tonight was drawn by your wife. Make haste, Maham Anga. We ride in five minutes.’ Turning, he ducked out of the tent.
As the two women embraced, Humayun saw Maham Anga whisper something in Hamida’s ear. Then, under the watchful eye of Kamran’s soldiers, the wet-nurse hurriedly collected her own son and a few of his and Akbar’s things as well as her own and was escorted from the tent. Moments later, Hamida and Humayun heard the muffled sound of hooves on snow and then all went quiet. Leaping up, Humayun rushed outside. The blizzard was over and the snow that had fallen had softened the harsh landscape. So pure and still, it was a scene of almost perfect beauty.
Part III
