Cuckold

by Kiran Nagarkar

  ‘I keep telling your wife that she’s got married into the wrong family. Rao Viramdev should have given her in marriage to one of Adinathji’s grandsons. She’s no saint, this woman. She has a moneylender’s heart, mind and soul.’

  Greeneyes stomped out melodramatically. Father, needless to say, was delighted with his daughter-in-law’s histrionics.

  ‘What is the strength of Medini Rai’s army?’ Father got back to business.

  ‘I believe it’s around ten thousand, Majesty. If the Rais from the east join him and Silhadi brings his forces, they would swell by another ten thousand. But Mahmud Khalji has chosen his time well. Silhadi and the other rais, while being favourably inclined, will, I suspect, play a waiting game and not commit their troops for fear of another defeat at the hands of the Sultan.’

  ‘Mahmud Khalji didn’t beat them alone the last time. If Muzaffar Shah of Gujarat hadn’t taken the lead, I am sure that Medini Rai would have defeated Mahmud Khalji.’

  ‘More than likely but that’s an academic question now. Mangal tells me that the Rai and his Rajputs lost not twenty thousand of their men but closer to forty thousand including most of the senior commanders.’

  ‘How many troops do you wish to take with you?’

  ‘Three thousand. All of it cavalry.’

  ‘I would caution you against arrogance, my son.’

  ‘I believe time is of the essence on this occasion. If we try to put together an army of twenty or thirty thousand, it will take at least ten to twelve days and another week to arrange supplies. By that time, it will be too late to help either Prince Hem Karan or Medini Rai.

  ‘Tej and Shafi have been working for the past year and a quarter on a kind of flash-force. Most of the soldiers have fought alongside me in the past but the idea was to train them in a different kind of discipline and make them into a task force that is so tightly knit that they think and act as a highly trained raiding party and are yet almost impenetrable. They’ve been fighting mock battles so far. This will be a good time to test their skills. Besides, I hope that the news of the Mewar men joining Medini Rai will encourage his allies to stop vacillating and proceed directly to Gagrone.’

  ‘I trust you know what you are doing. I wish you success. When do you leave?’

  ‘Seven hundred and fifty men will leave tonight. I’ll speak to Tej and Shafi right away. They’ll go singly and without attracting attention to themselves. They’ll conceal their weapons and will move out as farmers or as pilgrims returning after taking a darshan of the Little Saint. One thousand five hundred will wend their way in the daytime tomorrow. And the remaining tomorrow night. We’ll meet up in Dharampur.’

  ‘You had planned all this in advance, hadn’t you?’

  ‘When Mangal said at the Security Council meeting some weeks ago that there was much troop movement in and around Mandu, I felt that Mahmud Khalji might be plotting a sudden attack. But frankly, Tej and Shafi’s task force is meant to be in a state of preparedness at all times.’

  ‘Has Mangal been leaking all the reports he makes to me to you?’ Father had a smile on his face but I knew that we had reached the trickiest part of our meeting. After all, he must have known from day one that Tej and Shafi were instructing our troops at the training ground behind the Khatan Rani Palace.

  ‘Mangal’s loyalties are to the Rana and Mewar, Your Majesty. Mangal did not part with any information to which the Security Council was not privy.’

  ‘What would we do without Mangal?’

  ‘I trust we’ll never have to do without him.’

  ‘One small matter, son. I suggest you ensure that the Sultan of Malwa survives the battle.’

  You can never trust Father or rather you can trust him a hundred point seven percent as Adinathji’s tribe is fond of saying. Father had pulled this same trick on me before but I never seem to learn. Instead of summoning me, he had come over in person. He had put me at ease with his banter with the Princess, asked me honest probing questions, then taken the offensive and put me in the dock about Mangal’s and my integrity and when I was vastly relieved that I had risen to the occasion and had made the grade, he had, in passing, revealed the reason for his visit.

  Had Medini Rai really asked for my services? Maybe he had. Maybe Father had put him up to it. It doesn’t matter. His Majesty was, as usual, playing two or three games simultaneously. Queen Karmavati has been clamouring for the past six months to come back to Chittor: she had realized that while she thought that she had inveigled His Majesty into doing her bidding, Father, dear Father, had sidelined her. In the meantime, my wife and Father had become close. I don’t think this was a conscious, calculated move on the part of either of them but once it had happened, Father was not averse to bending the friendship to his own purposes. The Queen would be recalled but held in check by the Princess. I was to be removed from the scene, given an important mission, perhaps even a second chance to try out my unorthodox ideas but clearly put on a very short leash. I was firmly told to stay off what I perceived to be the objective of the exercise: eliminate Mahmud Khalji and conquer Malwa.

  His Majesty was not ready, at least not yet, to wipe out a dynasty and take control of a new kingdom. Perhaps he has sound reasons, he wants to build and integrate a strong Rajput confederacy first, perhaps he doesn’t think that we have the trained manpower to staff a new bureaucracy and the top posts or more importantly to police the new state and quell revolts and rebellions. He may be right. But I believe a king may wait too long for the opportune moment. When the time is ripe, it may be too late and one may forfeit the chance altogether.

  Chapter

  33

  ‘Highness,’ Medini Rai walked briskly towards me. He had not had time to put on his saafa and was carrying it in his hands, ‘forgive me for not coming to receive you. We were not expecting you for another week. If only you had sent a courier ahead of you, I would have ridden hard and met you at the border.’

  There was a silver streak in his slightly dishevelled hair cutting across his head like a vein of mica in the noon sun. He ran his hand over the shock of thick hair and pushed it back as he put on the turban. He was not putting me on or flattering me, he would have ridden seventy miles to greet me.

  ‘I bring you greetings from His Majesty, the Rana, and a detailed letter. With me, are my deputies from Mewar, Tej Simha and Shafi Khan. I believe that all three thousand of our soldiers have been in Dharampur since early this morning.’

  ‘That seems unlikely, Maharaj Kumar. If the Mewar troops had arrived, I would have heard of it from my commanders. Or perhaps not,’ he smiled deprecatingly as he looked at our clothes. ‘Were they also travelling incognito in villagers’ clothes?’

  ‘I’m afraid, yes. We did not want to arouse Sultan Mahmud Khalji’s suspicions. As a further precaution they must all have gone east, west and north before turning south-east. How many days will it take for the Sultan to turn around and confront us at Dharampur?’

  ‘Four to seven days if he rides with his army. But why would he forsake the prize at hand and come looking for us?’

  ‘I may be wrong but it is my guess that once the Sultan learns that the Mewar forces have joined you, he’ll appreciate that Gagrone is likely to be an extremely ephemeral possession. If he takes it, he might find us besieging him in a couple of days. That might prove to be galling since Prince Hem Karan and his men have exhausted all supplies and it may take a while before the Sultan can restock the granaries. If, however, you feel that we should proceed forthwith to Gagrone and relieve the siege and the Prince, we can leave in an hour’s time.’

  He pondered over my two scenarios for a long time. ‘I am anxious for Prince Hem Karan and my people but it would be unforgivable if that consideration led me to take an unwise step. It is likely that there is a slim chance, a chance nevertheless, that your prognosis is sound. Besides I doubt that thirteen thousand troops will be sufficient to relieve Gagrone.’

  ‘In that case we have time for a quick bath pri
or to conferring with you and the heads of your army. Highness, may I make bold to ask you a candid question: when you wrote to His Majesty for assistance, why did you ask for me?’

  ‘Before I make answer, I must ask you, Maharaj Kumar, not to take offence if I return your candour with just as much honesty. I asked for you because they tell me you are an unreasonable man. That if it was possible, you would like to win a war without losing a single one of your soldiers. They say you are a man without scruples, that you have no qualms attacking an enemy from the rear and in the dark. They say you play your cards so close to the chest that even your commanders sometimes learn of major engagements just a few hours before they are to take place. They say you walk at all times with your tail between your legs and will retreat at the slightest pretext. They tell me that you are unpredictable and change your plans without notice. They also say that you are a liar and are not to be trusted by your enemies and if you had any friends, they would be wise to keep you at an arm’s length. That is why I chose you, Maharaj Kumar.’

  When we met again, I showed Medini Rai the letter I had written and asked him to send it to the Sultan by the fastest set of couriers at his disposal.

  It was a friendly letter.

  To

  His Majesty, Mahmud Khalji, Sultan of Malwa.

  His Majesty, Rana Sangram Simha, the citizens of Mewar, Hindu, Muslim and Jain, and I, the Maharaj Kumar of Mewar, send you and the populace of Malwa our greetings. We wish you a long, happy and healthy reign.

  I am sure that your sources have already informed you that fifty thousand of Mewar’s soldiers are camped some fifteen miles from Dharampur and await your arrival with a growing sense of impatience. My men will soon be joined by His Highness Rao Medini Rai, His Highness Silhadi, Their Highnesses Chand Rai, Arjun Rai, Jai Rai, Rai Pithora’s son Indrasen Rai, and their troops. All in all, over seventy thousand soldiery will be gathered to welcome you amongst us.

  Our only wish is peace. Our only gift to the people of Malwa is the hand of friendship. We believe that you too are tired of all the internecine squabbles and wars within Malwa and are just as keen to sign a pact of peace with His Highness, Medini Rai, Mewar and the other Rais of the east. May no Mewar or Malwa blood be spilt henceforth. May our children grow up and grow old as brothers.

  Think of us kindly, Your Majesty.

  Ever at your service, etc.

  The Maharaj Kumar

  P.S. Ajeet Simha, His Highness Medini Rai’s head of intelligence, tells us that the intent of your visit to Gagrone is bellicose. How can that be possible, we ask him even as we scoff at him, does he not know that you are a wise man and a man of peace? Does he not know, we further ask him, that a confrontation with Mewar will not only cost the Sultan the lives of tens of thousands of men as it did Muzaffar Shah, the Sultan of Gujarat, but several provinces of precious Malwa territory, for while we are generous in friendship, excessively so, we are also ruthless with our enemies. But we know that Ajeet Simha is a foolish man, and you will not suffer fools.

  ‘What if he accepts your offer, Highness?’

  ‘Why, then, Sire, we’ll wine him and dine him, throw a feast such as Gagrone and Malwa have never witnessed and sign a peace treaty with him whereby Chanderi is awarded to you as your fiefdom. Anyone who dares break the terms of the treaty will stand to lose his entire kingdom. But while I pray that the Sultan will see sense, I suspect he’ll feel honour bound, having come so far, to wage war with you.’

  ‘And what if he wins? Neither His Highness Silhadi nor the other rais have shown much enthusiasm to join us. And I’m afraid as of this moment your forces amount to a little over three thousand and not fifty thousand.’

  ‘If we lose, my father, the Rana will not forgive me for letting you down. If on the other hand I had decided to bring thirty thousand men with me, it would have taken us at least twenty to twenty-five days and that delay may have cost you Gagrone and your son Hem Karan. That was a risk I did not wish to take.’

  ‘In that case, it is for my people and me to do your bidding while making you responsible for both victory and defeat.’

  * * *

  The meeting with Medini Rai’s commanders was not the most pleasant but not unsatisfactory. Whether the Rai agreed with me or not, whether he believed that I was dangerous or deranged, he held his counsel and allowed me to conduct the meeting without contradicting or questioning my oddest assertions. Our first task was to spread the word and make people believe that we were arranging accommodation for fifty thousand soldiers behind two stocky peaks of the branch of the Aravali mountains called Dhola Maru. We requisitioned every single tent in Dharampur and in the neighbouring areas and placed an order for another hundred, delivery within two days. Next we rounded up all the dogs in the vicinity and penned them in the military camp. Dharampur is well known for its monkey population. There were thousands of them; in a good year a third of the crops is eaten by them. They are much hated and though there’s no law against killing them, hardly anybody does, since they are said to be descendants of Hanumanji. Notices were put up in all the villages that His Highness the Maharaj Kumar would pay a tanka to anybody who delivered ten dogs or monkeys to the army stores.

  ‘Army stores?’ His Highness’s second-in-command Karan Rai sounded perplexed. ‘What would they do with them?’

  ‘The soldiers will as usual cook for themselves but what will an army of fifty thousand feed on? I’m afraid there’s not much game left in this region after last year’s drought.’

  ‘On monkeys, Maharaj Kumar?’ Karan Rai looked genuinely horrified.

  ‘The brains of live monkeys are considered a rare delicacy in China, Karanji.’

  ‘You have odd tastes in food,’ he looked revolted, ‘to say the least. My troops certainly will not touch the stuff.’

  ‘The Mewar armies, I’m afraid, cannot afford to be choosy. When on a campaign, they’ll eat elephant meat or rats if need be. On the Gujarat campaign, when there was an acute shortage of food because of a drought, our armies and I had snakes, mongoose and roasted red ants for a week.’

  I believe Karan Rai would have liked to ask me to pack up my bags and leave but since Medini Rai kept an impassive face, he had no choice but to shut up. I turned round to Shiraz Ali, the man Mangal had deputed as intelligence officer for the campaign and asked him to spread the word in the Khalji camp that any enemy soldiers who were taken prisoner would be blinded and put to work instead of oxen in the oil presses or the flour mills. Alternatively, they would be emasculated and despatched to labour in the coalmines whence as everyone knew no one ever returned alive. Their mothers, wives, sons and daughters would be prostituted; they would be made to participate in unnatural and beastly acts and then when they were no longer of any use, put to death. Needless to say, their lands would be confiscated by us and auctioned off to the highest bidder.

  On the other hand, if a Khalji soldier joined the Mewar army or went back home, he would be given a handsome reward: two months’ salary in advance on reporting to our war office in Dharampur and a beast of burden or a cow, as per his wishes, at the end of the war.

  ‘Surely you don’t mean that about the old parents and the wives and children being prostituted, do you, Your Highness? Or that business about unnatural acts?’ one of Karanji’s lieutenants smiled indulgently and tried to humour me.

  ‘Why not?’ I was short with him.

  ‘Because we are not like them, we are civilized.’

  ‘No, you’re right, we are not like them. They are about to discover that there is no deed so heinous and depraved that we will not perform it. Let me explain the arithmetic to you gentlemen. Our interest charges currently stand at 300 percent. As you know Mewar lost 3,000 soldiers to Gujarat a long time ago. Some years later Mewar destroyed 10,000 Gujarati troops in one morning alone. His Highness Medini Rai lost 39,917 men at Mandu. One way or the other, Mahmud Khalji is about to find three times that number, civilian or military, male or female, wiped out from his kingdom.�
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  The Rai’s War Council sat chewing upon that information in silent consternation.

  ‘One last question, Highness.’ Karan Rai was not about to let go of me that easily. ‘When do the rest of your fifty thousand soldiers arrive?’

  ‘Within the week. Shiraz Ali and his men will bring them to the encampment directly along the Neelkanth bypass so that they won’t disturb the peace of the civilian populace. They are good people, Karanji,’ I smiled deprecatingly, ‘but like any other troops a little frisky.’

  In the end Karan Rai and his deputies did the job of vilifying us far more effectively than any fifth column or disinformation service could have. There was a wave of revulsion in the city: a couple of occasions when our men were abused and one incident of stone-throwing. Medini Rai ordered the miscreants whipped but we thought it wise to remain inside the camp limits from then on and not venture out unless something pressing demanded our attention in the city. I have to grant that my brother Vikramaditya, too, had his uses. But for him, I would never have known the potential of innuendo and rumour. By the third day there was not a dog on the streets of Dharampur. No, we hadn’t eaten them all yet (though I was more than willing to, they were making such an unholy cacophony in the encampment at nights, or worse, keening for some mate in Badrinath or Bajaur.) The townspeople had either shooed them away or locked them up in their courtyards and houses, so that those devilish Mewaris wouldn’t get at them.

  * * *

  Late one night, I believe it was the fourth day since our arrival, Medini Rai came to our camp. There was another man with him. The Rai seemed a little overwrought and unable to speak. Oh God, please, not bad news. Don’t let Prince Hem Karan die. Had Gagrone fallen? Had I committed the one unforgivable crime for a commander: overconfidence? Why had I not played it safe and ridden with the Rai to Gagrone and relieved the pressure on the fort?

  ‘Highness, there are debts that one is unable to repay.’ Medini Rai was inside the tent by now. ‘This is one debt I have no wish whatsoever to be free of. I shall be beholden to you till my dying day. You have given me back my son, Hem Karan, and all my people who were beleaguered in Gagrone.’