Swords From the Desert
Page 27
Who was to say otherwise? Not Dost Muhammad or Mahabat Khan, who took me with them in fellowship to Ind. Not I, who was glad to be hold Baki at last safely in his grave. Many hillmen stopped to pray and to tie rags to his shrine, and the sick journeyed far to this holy spot.
But I, when I passed through those hills again, I thought of what is written-that a man cannot save himself by his gold if his deeds destroy him.
Chapter I A Horse and Servant for the Hakim
Thus said Daril the Arab, he who was known as Ibn Athir, the wisest of physicians, the far seeing and long wandering. Thus said he, who in his day and age beheld the Conqueror of the World, and the battle of the elephant, and knelt before the Light of the Palace. Thus is his tale:
Why sit in one spot? The wise ride afield.
This thought of all thoughts came to me after Ramazan of the year one thousand and thirty and two.* Until then I had been content-I, Daril ibn Athir of the clan Nejd. I had been no more than the physician of my folk, and I had grown weary of the folk and of the land of Athir.
Something had come into my heart. Men, journeying up from the sea with the camphor and leather caravans, had lingered as guests in our tents. They told us of the sea that lay beyond our desert and of a rich land beyond the sea.
This land they called Hindustan, or the country of Ind, and the ruler of this empire they called the Mogul, swearing by the triple oath that the Mogul was the most fortunate of men. The wonders of his court their own eyes had beheld-the tents of cloth of gold, the treasure great beyond counting, the slaves more numerous than our sheep.
Aye, their words put the thought into my mind. And I resolved to journey to the land of Ind, to behold this chieftain, the most fortunate of men.
So, between the first stars and darkness, I left my folk. I gathered together a horseload of cloths and rice and fruit and some silver. Girding on the best of my swords, I set forth upon the road that leads to the sea.
Who knows, when he sets forth, what the end of the road will be? Upon the sea there are no paths, and the ships go hither and yon, when the winds rise, at the will of God. Also, men are visited by the sickness of the sea that makes food an abomination in the belly.
During this sickness my silver was stolen-all but eleven pieces wrapped in my girdle. The wind blew us to a land that was not Ind, and for several moons I journeyed with merchants, serving as a swordsman to protect their goods, they giving me food of sorts but no horse.
It was after the noon prayer one day that we came out upon a road bordered with trees and to the outskirts of a temple-ridden city. These temples were not like our masjids, being of stone worked into the semblance of figures of women, men, and beasts like men-aye, and serpents carved out of stone.
The merchants went off to the bazaar, and I sought the horse market. Here I found turbaned folk, and some Persians in striped cloaks, whose animals were ill nourished, besides having saddle sores.
I waited, sitting upon the carpet with other buyers, until I beheld an Arab who wore the green cloth permitted to one who has made the pilgrimage to the Ka'aba. Of him I asked a question.
"Indeed," he laughed, "this is a city upon the border of Ind."
"The praise to the All Compassionate!" I cried.
The name of this horse dealer was al-Mokhtar, and he was full of wisdom mingled with guile. He had in his string two or three splendid mares, and he said that the people of this land did not refuse to ride mares. He had also some swift-paced geldings and a riffraff of baggage bearers.
The first day I said naught to al-Mokhtar concerning the purchase of a horse, though I was determined to have one. I saw that the people of Ind went about on their own feet for the most part, or sat in carts, or-and they were the nobles-lay in litters upborne upon the shoulders of slaves, of whom there was no lack. Yet I would not take the road until I had a horse beneath me.
The second day al-Mokhtar showed his string to a wealthy emir who took two of the mares at high prices, paying for them with a pearl or two and many promises. Meanwhile I had marked one of the trader's poorer beasts, a small roan, a little lame.
But he held his head well, and when the other horses ran he showed good paces. This roan I determined to buy if he could be had at my price.
When al-Mokhtar had completed the sale of the mares he came and sat down by me, sending a boy for sherbet and dates, which he shared with me as a matter of course.
"Eh, Ibn Athir," he said, "this is a fortunate day."
"By the will of God!" I made response. "For in the cool of this evening I shall set out upon the road leading north."
"To what end?"
"To seek the court of the Mogul and behold his face."
"That is a long way, and I have heard that thieves beset the road. Verily, this is a land of thieves, both young and old."
He spoke bitterly as if remembrance stirred within him.
"By the beard of the true prophet, the nobles of each district demand a toll of strangers! The priests sit naked and hold forth their hands, and if thou givest not to them, they make outcry and a crowd comes with sticks. Moreover, Ibn Athir, the favorites of the Mogul go at will upon the roads, taking what best pleases them, of goods, weapons, or horses."
"0 Hadji," I laughed, "it seems to me to be a rich land, and the lords thereof goodly in bearing and garments."
"Thou wilt see what thou wilt see," he made response, shaking his head. "Verily I say to thee, this is a land to be ruled by an armed conqueror, or by a woman, or by-the word of God."
"Such an empire, to be ruled by a woman?"
"Aye, by one-" he paused, musing-"but it will happen as it bath been written in the book that changeth not. Thou canst speak the Persian and that is good. Only remember, if thy road leads to the court, that the two favorites of the Mogul are Mahabat Khan and the Light of the Palace."
"What is that to me?"
Al-Mokhtar smiled and waved his hand. He was, as I have said, a man of discernment and guile. But now, at last, he came to that which was in his mind.
"The road is long, and thou wilt need a horse. I have a steed bred from-"
"I have seen the lot. Also, I have seen the horses of Kara Mustapha-"
"That son of a slave!"
"His prices are just."
"Just!" A1-Mokhtar spat. "That bladder of a swine! Now, bethink thee, O hakim,* I have-" he paused to run his glance over the horses, guarded by one of his swordsmen-"I have a roan that must be sold for a tithe of his true worth. Spirit he hath, and fire, and a tender mouth. Because he is lame I must be rid of him before setting forth. Yet the lameness, as thou canst see, Ibn Athir, is a slight matter, to be healed by a little warmth and rubbing."
"W'allah, am I to doctor a horse or ride him?"
"But the price! I will sell him for a dozen rupees."
This was less than I had expected his first price to be. Yet I gathered the folds of my mantle about me, and began the salaam of leave-taking.
"In truth, this is a land of thieves!"
"Nay, I am the loser, and my wish was to befriend thee."
"If so, make a fair price."
"Then I shall lose yet another two silver pieces, and make a price of ten."
In the end it was agreed between us that I should have the roan for eight rupees, also a bridle, lacking silver work, for two. As for the saddle, al-Mokhtar had one that he had promised to deliver to a certain man in Lahore, and, since he said Lahore lay upon my road, I pledged myself to take the saddle to its owner.
Nay, he trusted me because I passed my word, nor did he think a second time of it. The buying of a horse is a matter for bargaining, but a pledged word is otherwise.
There were indeed robbers upon the road that leads north and ever north through Ind, and I had wiped blood from my sword blade before I drew my reins into the semi of the blue mosque that lies by the garden of the emirs, in Lahore.
Here was a tank of stagnant water hemmed in by cactus and lime trees, where they who journeyed upon the grea
t road halted to wash the dust from their eyes and ears and sleep under the safeguard of the mosque.
And here I was halted by two officers of the Hindu noble who ruled the district, demanding road toll, even as al-Mokhtar had said. The money, they said, was for driving the robbers away.
To them I made response that my sword had driven the thieves away, and besides, I had naught to give them. And this was truth.
But in this land all words are weighed in the scales of trickery, and the two officers went away looking angry. I thought then of what al-Mokhtar had forewarned and decided to watch for the next hours. I begged some rice seasoned with saffron from the keepers of the mosque and carried my portion to the edge of the tank where the roan had found a little dry grass to feed upon.
The tank was within a stone's throw of the road, and the light had not vanished when some twenty riders came galloping past, raising a great dust. They were excellently well mounted, the leader bestriding a black Tatar stallion with a glistening coat.
I stood up, the better to see the stallion, and an officer reined abreast this chieftain-the same officer who had failed to gather toll from me. It was then too late to withdraw and I stared at the rider of the stallion, fingering the hilt of my scimitar.
He was a slender man, wearing a small turban with a long loose end of white silk. His beard was black, and I saw his teeth flash as he laughed, without checking his pace.
"Ohai hakim," he called out to me. "Ho, physician-may thy road be pleasant to thee!
The other officer said something, and the rider of the stallion shook his head impatiently, spurring on with his troop. The glow of sunset was still over the acacias, and jewels sparkled in his turban and girdle and saddlecloth.
Beyond doubt the officer I had angered had sought out this warrior lord and made complaint, but he had not wished to call me to account for the matter of the toll. Perhaps this was because of the nearness of the mosque, or a matter of mood.
"Art thou in truth a physician?"
So said one who squatted on the coping of the tank, by my feet-a barefoot and ragged Hindu, with a thin, knowing face and overbright eyes.
"In truth."
"From beyond the sea?"
"Aye, far."
The boy considered, trailing his fingers in the water. "Eh, I have seen the hakim from Iran and the fat one from Frankistan but not one who wore a sword as thou. What seekest thou, 0 wise physician?"
"Such and such a man," I made response, "to whom I must give this saddle. For this is the city of Lahore."
It seemed to astonish the boy that the saddle should have been given to me as it was, he knowing naught of the customs of the Arabs.
"Art thou friend to Mahabat Khan?" he asked then.
"Nay, I am a stranger in this place."
"But he greeted thee, even now."
The boy swore that the rider of the stallion had been Mahabat Khan, though at the time I cared little, one way or the other.
"I saw thee," the youth persisted, "stand erect and lay hand to sword when his eye fell upon thee. That was a sign!"
Now I had acted thus without forethought, and in any case it is better to rise and watch events than to bide. The Hindu did not understand. His people carry shield and sword and many daggers; still they like best to use their tongues and to intrigue. So I thought at that time, before I had met with the clans of the north and the riders of Mahabat Khan.
"Who is this khan?" I asked impatiently.
The brown eyes of the Hindu became knowing, as a dog's that has stumbled upon a marmot's hole.
"Ai-ai!" he laughed. "Shall I not know a sign when I see one? Nay, who art thou, Lord of Arabistan?" But when he looked into my face he became thoughtful. "He is a good man to have for a friend."
And he began to poke at the water with one finger. I think he suspected me of being a spy of this khan-this boy of twelve or fourteen years who begged his food by tricks of juggling. I had seen him, not an hour ago, performing with a single stout bamboo of the length of two men. He had set one end of the bamboo upon the earth and had climbed upon it unaided, shouting at those who were too intent on cooking food to spare a thought or a copper coin for this Jami, as he called himself.
For his pains, Jami had naught but the remnant of my rice that he had borne off on a leaf to eat in a corner. Since then he had come to sit and stare at me.
"I am thy friend," he said then. "Thy friend, Daril ibn Athir."
At this I smiled, for the youths of my land stand more in dread of the men.
"Nay," he said again, quickly. "I know thou hast not a copper in thy wallet. But tell me, 0 lord of hakims, is it true thou hast skill to cure the sick? The two others were great liars. Is it thy custom to cure with prayers written on paper, or a purge, or by letting blood, or spells?"
"Not by writing on paper or spells."
"If a man be dying, canst restore him to health?"
"The hour of a man's death is written."
Jami considered this and looked at the lanterns that were moving about the tank. One more question he asked-would I sleep in the serai?-and then darted off into the shadows. But he left his pole by my saddle and cloth, and when I had rubbed down the roan pony and had made the evening prayer, the pole was still there. I went to sleep with my head touching the saddle because, though the road might be clear of thieves, that serai was a nest of poverty-ridden men.
As with us during Ramazan, there was little quiet in the night. I smelled camels passing along the highroad and saw that armed riders bearing torches escorted the camel loads. Carts drawn by bullocks creaked past the tank, and men, women, and children too miserable to own a beast of burden filed by, bearing bundles on heads and shoulders. The air was foul with dust and gnats.
Whenever an emir, a nobleman, passed by, the beggars of the roadside would cry out in chorus. And perhaps the rider would reach into his girdle and fling them a coin. But the naked and dirty priests who sat by the highroad did not cry out.
Women passed like djinn wraiths among the tethered animals. And in the third and fourth hours of the night the air did not grow cool as in the desert, the sahra. Always I heard the low voices of men, speaking many tongues. Bare feet pattered near my head, and when I rose to an elbow, Jami squatted down, pulling at my sleeve.
"Awake, my lord! Come with me."
Wallah! The boy had returned to tell me of a sick man whose skin was purple and who was cursing all physicians. Jami had persuaded the family of the sick man to send for me. He swore that this stranger had especially cursed the Hindu priest who came to require money before offering up a prayer to various gods.
"Fool!" I chided him. "If the man gets well the others who have tended him will grasp the credit, and if he dies they will blame me."
"Thou are a bold man, Ibn Athir," he cried, "and, besides, the Rajput hath too strong a voice to be sinking toward the gates of Yama."
In the end I went with Jami, for-if the boy were to be believed-I had been summoned. I saddled the roan, not mindful to find horse and saddle gone from the serai when I returned. This seemed not to trouble Jami, who left his pole and ran, clinging to my stirrup.
He guided me from the highroad into an alley that led to wide gardens and an open gate filled with servants and horses and uproar.
"'Way for the benevolent Arab hakim!" Jami shouted above the tumult, thrusting at the Hindus. "At first he would not come. Send word! Stand back."
It was a small house, the lattices closed. Within, many people stared at me and crowded back to let me pass. In a room no larger than a single tent, twenty men were sitting, while two barefoot slaves stirred the heavy air with palm branches. On a matting lay a man of spare and muscular build, with a curling beard.
He was wrapped up in quilt upon quilt, and the skin of his head, as Jami had said, was nearly purple. I smelled opium and the fumes of burning hemp.
The skin of his corded arm, when I touched it, was hot and dry. Of Jami I asked the tale of his illness, and the boy stood
forth, speaking importantly to one and another of the watchers.
"0 hakim," quoth he, "since four days the Rao hath not mounted his horse. His head pained him, and on the second day he could not eat. By command of the other hakim, who is a piece of the liver of a dog, and a liar, being a Persian, he was wrapped up thus to bring forth the sweat. Look serious and shake thy head."
The sick man tossed impatiently under my touch, and it was clearly fever in him, perhaps from bad food. The quilts had only increased his trouble. Indeed, the matter was simple.
"Bring water," I bade the folk in the room, "heated in large jars."
"Ohai!" echoed Jami. "Bring water, or the Rao dies! Make haste, for this is the hakim known to our master, Mahabat Khan."
If the other physician had been a liar, Jami was no less! There was dispute when the steaming water appeared, but I bade them strip and bathe the man they called the Rao, and when they had done so, I gave him a draft to quiet him from the packets that still remained in Iny girdle.
"Far better to bleed him," the young juggler whispered. "Then the cure will be a greater cure. What was in the drink?"
A few herbs and rhubarb, no more. Still, I saw no need of telling Jami this, and no doubt he made a tale of the dose, for the watchers looked troubled and when I bade them rise and leave the sick man, they demanded that I stay in the house until the following day should reveal the efficacy of the draft.
Chapter II Chief tains' Fees
Verily, if the Rao, whose name was Man Singh, had died, misfortune would have come upon my head. For, while I abode under his roof, during the next two days the Persian and the European physician came to attend him. When they learned of my presence, the European went away without saying anything; but the Persian swore by Ali and all the Companions that I had done ill to give the sick man the hot bath, and that the Rao assuredly would die.
But the Rao, who was nearly free of fever, gave command to his servants to beat the Persian on the buttocks and shoulders and send him forth without payment.