out together with an unimaginable stench. Shah Daud turned away and retched from the pit of his stomach, and he was not the only one to do so. Immediately afterwards, he gave the order for the best regiments of his army, in particular his horsemen and his mounted musketeers and archers, to prepare to leave. Only two hours later he was himself in the saddle riding through the gates of Patna.’
Akbar smiled broadly. He had been right in his assessment of Shah Daud, and the heads had indeed saved lives. So much of war was in the mind. ‘How do you know all this?’ he asked.
‘The commander he left in the city with instructions to hold it as long as he could lost no time in sending us an offer to surrender if we would spare his life.’
‘You accepted it, of course?’
‘Yes.’
‘Show that we are not barbarians after all. Make sure the prisoners from the garrison are treated well.’ After a moment Akbar added, ‘After a day or two let a few escape to carry news of their good treatment to their comrades in outlying forts. It should induce more of them to hand themselves over.’
‘Majesty.’
‘Where is Shah Daud headed?’
‘Towards the walled city of Gumgarh at the heart of his family’s ancestral lands.’
‘Where is the city, and how is it fortified?’
‘To the north, Majesty. It is walled, and Shah Daud might hope to hold out there while he recruits more men. Also, his older relations may have greater courage than he and stiffen his resolve, too.’
‘Then we must cut him off before he gets there.’
Although the heavy rain had ceased, the clouds were still low and grey as in the uncertain morning light just a fortnight after the surrender of Patna Akbar looked from beneath the dripping shelter of some tall palm trees at a low hill about three-quarters of a mile away. Shah Daud’s forces were encamped in and around a small town which lay within mud walls on the hill’s top. Despite its modest height, the position offered commanding views over the surrounding marshes. Shah Daud’s men, when they had seen the vanguard of Akbar’s force of twenty thousand of his best men including many mounted musketeers and archers approach late the previous afternoon, had not tried to continue their flight. Instead, throughout the stormy night, by the light of torches guttering in the rain and wind as well as of the almost continual sheet lightning, they had worked hard to improvise what defences they could, overturning baggage wagons to block gaps in the mud walls and trying to shore up those sections which had crumbled in the rain.
To Akbar, his opponents looked to have done a good job in the time they had had available. He was fortunate, he thought, that Shah Daud like himself had been travelling too quickly to bring any but the smallest cannon with him. Nevertheless, his forces which numbered roughly the same as his own seemed to be well supplied with muskets and his barricades, though improvised, looked strong. Akbar’s scouts had reported that the men had even used the townspeople’s beds and cooking pots as well as the doors of their houses as reinforcing material.
Despite his opponents’ fervid work, Akbar knew that an all-out assault was the best means to capture the town and with it Shah Daud and his treasure. By doing so he would put an end to resistance in Bengal and secure this rich and fertile land with its clever, cultured and hard-working people as a new and valuable province for his empire. Ahmed Khan was as usual at Akbar’s elbow and the emperor turned once more to his grizzled
‘Yes. More than an hour ago.’
‘Then little remains but to order our trumpeters and drummers to give the signal for a simultaneous charge at the town’s defences from all sides.’
‘That’s true, Majesty, but there is one thing I beg of you as an old comrade-in-arms of your father and your chief general. Do not hazard yourself in the way that you did in our attack on the river fort. I remember your father Humayun ordering you to protect yourself for the sake of the dynasty and Bairam Khan advising the same in the fight against Hemu. Your sons are still young. They would be in danger if you fell. So too would the empire.’
‘I know you speak with my best interests in mind, and indeed what you say is good advice. Yet I react and take risks instinctively, perhaps partly because in my heart I feel that it will not be my destiny to die in battle — certainly not so soon, not before I’ve expanded my empire. Indeed, I believe — and sages I’ve consulted confirm this — the greatest dangers to me will not lie on the battlefield.’
‘But as your father came to understand, it is ultimately a man’s own actions that decide his fate, not his visions and feelings about his destiny. . Although confidence and bravery may often allow you to succeed in rash acts where others would fail, you shouldn’t rely on this always being the case.’
Akbar nodded. He must guard against over-confidence in battle, just as much as he tried to when planning his campaigns with his commanders. ‘Sometimes the distinction between setting an example as a leader and foolhardiness is a slim one, I know. I will remember to observe it as best I can. I had already decided that today Muhammad Beg should lead the first attack. Despite all his years he remains as eager for battle as the day he left Badakhshan to fight with my grandfather. I will hold myself and my bodyguard in reserve so that we can add our weight to support the assault wherever it is needed most.’
‘Shall I give Muhammad Beg the order to begin the attack, then?’
‘Yes.’
Akbar and Ahmed Khan watched as, to the sound of trumpets, the horsemen began their advance from all sides through the waterlogged fields towards the town on the hill. Although hampered by the glossy black oozing mud and the need to avoid the deepest of the pools of water, the horses slowly picked up speed. Muhammad Beg and his bodyguard were among the foremost, with several green Moghul banners fluttering in the damp breeze behind them. As they came into range, there were occasional puffs of smoke from the muskets of Shah Daud’s men crouched behind the barricades. Here and there, a horse collapsed to lie twitching after throwing its rider. Sometimes a horseman fell from his saddle to disappear beneath the hooves of those following, trampled into the churned mud. Often, the fallen rider’s mount, freed of his weight, outdistanced his fellows in the charge. One riderless black horse was the first to jump the outermost of the barricades that guarded the town before galloping on towards a cluster of single-storey houses above which Shah Daud’s yellow banners were flying.
All seemed to be going well for his troops, Akbar thought. But then there was a sudden crackle of disciplined musketry from the section of the mud walls towards which Muhammad Beg and his men were advancing. One of the carts that blocked a hole in the wall was pushed aside and a squadron of riders emerged to charge down the hill, lances in hand and bobbing heads bent low over their horses’ necks, into Muhammad Beg’s advancing troops who recoiled under the impact, several of their horses being knocked together with their riders into the mud. Then the Bengalis opened further gaps in their barricades for more horsemen to pour through to join the battle. Within minutes many more of Muhammad Beg’s men were down and only one of his green Moghul banners was still being held aloft.
Akbar could hold back no longer — this fight was bound to be crucial to the outcome of the battle and he must be there to lead his men in person. He pulled Alamgir from its scabbard and kicked his horse into a gallop towards the melee, followed immediately by his loyal bodyguard. It took him three minutes at most to cover the distance to the hill, despite his mount’s slipping in the mud on landing after jumping one of the pools of water.
As he began to urge the horse up the hill towards the fighting he came within range of Shah Daud’s musketeers who, recognising him from his gilded breastplate, concentrated much of their fire on him. He heard musket balls and arrows hiss past him. Then his horse staggered for a moment and he felt its warm blood soaking his right thigh. Hit in the flank by a musket ball, the horse’s pace was faltering and its head was dropping. Just before it collapsed Akbar jumped from the saddle to land on his feet on the muddy ground only to slip, arms flailing, as he jerked aside to avoid one of his bodyguards who was riding close behind.
Regaining his balance, he shouted for another of his men to give him his mount. Immediately a rider wheeled round and leapt from his grey horse to offer the reins to Akbar. Within moments he was back in the saddle, thrusting his mud-caked boots into the stirrups. However, the incident had blunted the momentum of his charge and that of his bodyguard. Some of Shah Daud’s horsemen were almost on them. Akbar reacted only just in time to swerve his new mount away from a large Bengali whirling a spiked battle flail above his helmetless head. The man was unable to check his horse’s charge because of its downhill momentum. Despite tugging hard at his reins he careered past Akbar, who slashed at the back of his head with Alamgir, feeling a grating judder in his arm as the
