Aurangzeb waved permission and the Habshi rattled off a series of orders to his subordinates. Messengers on fast horses shot away from the column and rapidly disappeared into the distance. No doubt they were eager to sack the city, but discipline held for now. Especially given that they all knew it would happen.
Rather than try and restrain them entirely, Aurangzeb had commanded that they only loot the city and leave the Taj Mahal untouched.
Nur had nodded sagely when told of his designs for overcoming that minor challenge. Far better to swim with the current than try and resist. The men of Aurangzeb’s army would get an opportunity to enrich themselves at the expense of the residents of Agra, but only when given leave to do so by Aurangzeb.
Simply knowing they would have that chance at wealth made the army compliant to his will.
And that army was less than ten kos from the tomb and Red Fort, both of which were visible against the light pall of smoke shrouding Agra just beyond the tomb.
A strong feeling of…Aurangzeb wasn’t sure what it was that he felt as the long-foreseen conflict with his eldest brother grew closer with every hoofbeat. Tension, certainly. He did not want to see his brothers dead, but could not suffer Dara Shikoh to rule from the Peacock Throne. Dara had forever been a fool for whatever courtier or fakir had most recently spoken in his ear. Nor was Aurangzeb about to lie down and be murdered as his uncles had been when Father ascended the throne. No, this was the only way to safeguard the dynasty in the future and prevent the European Christians from overrunning all the world. With such weighty matters at stake, who was he to try and fight the obvious tide of God’s will?
His gaze slid to Red Fort. Dara had sent no messengers, nor had he taken the field in any capacity. Word from within the Fort was that even his garrison was starting to lose its nerve. All as a result of the departure of Salim Gadh Visa Yilmaz. Interesting that an adventurer but recently elevated at court could have carried so much weight of regard with both the umara and sowar of Dara’s forces. Then again, Mullah Mohan had been driven to near madness by the mere presence of the Afghan at court, so was it so hard to imagine that such a forceful personality could inspire a great many, especially in light of Dara’s ability to alienate his greatest allies and best field commanders?
He blinked, finding his eyes on the Taj again.
Mother, Father: forgive what I must do. I will do what I can to spare lives, but only when such restraint fails to interfere with God’s will. Feeling the weight of massive responsibility, he looked up at the sun to gauge how long he had to wait for prayers. By his estimation it seemed that he would arrive at the Taj within a quarter hour of afternoon prayer being called.
Yet another sign of God’s favor.
Red Fort
Agra
“Why isn’t Aurangzeb’s army setting up for the siege already?” Ilsa asked, gesturing at the long column of cavalry and elephants riding toward the Taj. “I would have thought they’d be in a hurry to sack the city.”
“And miss the opportunity to display the size, discipline, and power of his army?” Jahanara answered. The inner circle of her court were watching events from the balcony overlooking the river, the Taj, and, most recently, the vanguard of Aurangzeb’s forces.
“I suppose not,” Ilsa said.
An uncomfortable silence descended on the party, each aware their loved ones would soon be fighting for their very lives against that distant army.
“Will they?” Priscilla asked, breaking the silence.
“Will they what?” Jahanara asked. The up-timers were a constant fascination and distraction, one she sometimes craved like Dara craved his opium; yet, at other times she wished they and their disruptive ideas and prescient history had never come to court. Today, however, she was glad for the distraction.
“Loot the city?”
“Almost certainly, though I am told most of the easily portable wealth has already been removed by the owners.”
“Good. I feel bad saying it, but I’d hate to think we stripped Mission House of all our property and moved it in here if we didn’t need to,” Priscilla said, looking uncomfortable.
“Oh? Feel bad?” Jahanara asked.
“I don’t know that much about sieges and sacks, but I assume the people of Agra will suffer a great deal? Those that couldn’t leave before the army arrived, I mean.”
Jahanara nodded. It spoke well of her friend that she considered the plight of all folk, low-caste Hindu and Muslim alike. Most she knew would not have—or given it no more than a passing thought.
“Yes, those who fail to get out of the way will suffer at the hands of Aurangzeb’s army, and their property will be seized by whatever sowar get his hands on it. Do you do things differently in Europe?”
Priscilla glanced at Ilsa, who answered, “Europe is almost precisely the same, though often people do not have as much advance notice nor the ability to move away as many residents here seem to.”
“Were things different in your time, Pris?” Jahanara asked, ignoring the fact that her people didn’t really find it easy to move out of the way of princely armies, they just knew better than to try and retain their goods at the cost of their lives.
“Only in the particulars. War-torn regions produced a lot of refugees and I think looting was supposed to be illegal, at least for the professional soldiers of most countries.”
“Looting, illegal? How did they prevent it?”
“With really harsh punishments for those soldiers who did it, I think. But
