The fortress of Kandahar with its thick stone walls and slit-windowed towers looked grimly impregnable against a backdrop of jagged, purple-brown mountains. Though it was only September, the chill wind made Humayun and his commanders shiver as they looked towards the fortress from their vantage point on the downward slope of a wooded hill about half a mile away.
Where in that fortress was Akbar? Humayun knew that his son’s fate depended on the decisions he was about to take. Kamran was no fool. His spies would have been observing Humayun’s progress and he must know that Humayun — backed as he was by crack Persian troops — had the stronger hand. Eventually, whether by siege or assault, Kandahar would fall. So what would Kamran do? Threaten to harm Akbar if Humayun did not withdraw? Kamran was capable of it. On the other hand, Humayun tried to comfort himself, his half-brother would know that if he killed Akbar he would lose his best bargaining counter. .
Bairam Khan and Zahid Beg were staring at the fortress and discussing its strengths and potential weak spots. Nadim Khwaja too was gazing at it intently. As a chieftain from the mountains above Kandahar the fortress would be a familiar sight to him but his thoughts, like Humayun’s, would be for his family. His wife Maham Anga and their own son Adham Khan were, like Akbar, prisoners within those walls. Briefly, Humayun put his hand on Nadim Khwaja’s shoulder, and as their eyes met he knew that they shared the same inner emotions. They were both warriors whose natural instinct was to storm into the fortress and rescue their loved ones. But understandable as such hot-blooded impulses were, they were not the way. .
An idea was beginning to form in Humayun’s mind. He must find a means of opening a dialogue with Kamran. Repugnant though he found the idea of negotiation, he knew it was what his father would have done. Hadn’t Babur swallowed his pride and negotiated with Shaibani Khan to save the dynasty? It was also what Khanzada would have counselled. She above everyone had understood the value of patience, of making short-term sacrifices in order to win the ultimate prize.
But who could speak on his behalf? He couldn’t do it himself. Even if Kamran agreed to see him, if they came face to face there would be blows, not words, such was their mutual hatred. Yet he could not send Kasim or one of his commanders.This was a family matter. Kamran must be made to understand how he had violated every principle of honour and loyalty in the Moghul code, how his ambition had split and weakened Babur’s legacy.
There was only one person travelling with Humayun who could speak to Kamran of such things, who shared both his blood and Akbar’s blood. Gulbadan. Moghul women often played the role of peacemakers between the clans and her sharp intelligence was the equal of any of his counsellors’.
Dishonourable as he had shown himself, not even Kamran would harm his half-sister and he might even listen — if not to her personal pleas at least to the offer she would carry to him from Humayun. If Kamran would return Akbar unharmed, he could depart freely with Askari and their men and their weapons and Humayun’s solemn vow — in the name of their father Babur — not to pursue them.
Only one question remained. Would Gulbadan be willing to undertake such a mission? But as Humayun signalled to his commanders to turn their horses back up the hill to rejoin their forces, he was confident he knew the answer.
‘Majesty, Gulbadan Begam is returning.’
Hearing the shout from outside his command tent, Humayun leaped up from the stool on which he’d been sitting and, pushing aside the tent flaps, ducked out into the swiftly falling dusk. On the floor of the valley that lay between Humayun’s camp and the fortress, a line of flickering lights was drawing slowly nearer — torches borne by the detachment of guards he had sent with Jauhar to escort Gulbadan, who were riding before and behind the wagon in which she was travelling.
It was seven hours since she had set out under a flag of truce. Straining his eyes into the darkness, Humayun allowed himself to hope for just a moment that Akbar might be in Gulbadan’s arms but common sense quickly overcame such wishful thinking. Kamran was not a man to be moved by sentiment. He would not release Akbar until the very last moment, when he was certain Humayun would keep his word.
Nevertheless, unable to contain his impatience, Humayun ran to the roped-off enclosure where his horse was tethered. Without waiting for a saddle and using the halter in place of reins, he urged it to leap the rope and galloped off down to the valley. His heart was jumping so fast that for a moment he imagined the thudding of hooves on the soft turf was the sound it was making. For so much of the time he had to suppress his feelings — to show himself a cool, dispassionate leader to his men, to turn a calm, confident face to Hamida. But out here in the enshrouding darkness he could admit that he was as vulnerable as any man to fears and anxieties, particularly over the fate of those he loved and whom it was his duty to protect.
‘It is the emperor!’ he heard Jauhar cry out. Swerving to a standstill just a few yards from where Gulbadan’s wagon had halted, Humayun slid from his horse. Jauhar had also dismounted and without words led Humayun to Gulbadan’s cart. Taking the torch Jauhar was holding, Humayun drew aside the curtains and peered in at his half- sister.
‘I am glad to see you safely returned. What did Kamran say? Will he accept my terms?’
Gulbadan leaned further forward into the light, her young face very tired. ‘Humayun, I’m sorry. Kamran wasn’t there — only Askari. Hearing of your advance, some weeks ago Kamran rode to Kabul which he means to defend against you.’
‘And Akbar?’
‘Kamran took him with him to Kabul. But Humayun — there is still hope. Askari assured me Akbar is in good health and that Maham Anga is with him. . ’
‘How can I trust a word Askari says when he follows a man prepared to use a child as a weapon against me?’
‘Askari does feel the shame of it, I think. Also, from what he says I believe he thinks that, by ordering him to remain behind in Kandahar, Kamran has left him to bear the brunt of your anger.’
‘Will Askari surrender Kandahar to me?’
‘He will — on the promise that you will spare his life and those of his men.’
Humayun smiled grimly. ‘He can keep his miserable life and so may his men, but my offer of free passage was conditional on the safe return of Akbar. Askari, at least, will stay in my custody until I have found my son and dealt with Kamran.What of Hindal? Did you learn anything of his fate?’
‘My brother is often in my thoughts and I pressed Askari about what had happened to him. . He told me that Kamran ordered Hindal to be taken to the fort at Jalalabad and held prisoner there. But somehow on the way there he managed to escape. That was many months ago and Askari does not know where he has gone. . I hope my brother is safe.’
‘So do I.Though we had our differences I was not blameless and he was more of a brother to me than either of the others. But you, Gulbadan, you are a true sister to me and a true friend to Hamida. What you did today was hard and I’m grateful.’
It was a bitter thing that Babur’s sons should be so divided. Humayun was locked in gloom as he walked slowly back to his horse. Arriving back at the camp, he went straight to Hamida. She was waiting inside the women’s tent and at his sombre look the light of hope in her dark eyes faded. ‘So Kamran has refused your offer.’
‘Not even that. He wasn’t there. Hamida — he has taken Akbar to Kabul. . ’
As tears welled in her eyes, Humayun caught her to him. ‘Listen to me. We mustn’t despair. Askari is still in Kandahar and he promised Gulbadan that Akbar is in good health. That at least is good news.’
‘But Kabul is so far away. . ’
‘It’s three hundred miles away and I’d go three thousand miles to recover our son. You know that. . ’
‘I do, but it’s so hard. I think constantly about Akbar and what might be happening to him, even when I try to sleep. When I was pregnant and we were fleeing Maldeo, I couldn’t help imagining how it would feel to have him cut living from my womb. I felt the cold blade in my flesh. This worry is as bad. . it’s like a physical pain. I’m not sure how much more of it I can bear.’
‘Be strong for a little longer. . be strong for our son, just as you were when Maldeo plotted our destruction.Askari has offered to surrender Kandahar to me. As soon as I have secured it, we ride for Kabul.’ He felt her body relax a little and she stepped back from him.
‘You’re right — disappointment made me speak as I did. I had convinced myself I would get Akbar back within a day or two. It was foolish to build up my hopes.’
