Swords From the Desert

by Harold Lamb

  "Go, Ibn Athir," he said clearly. "But tell Mahabat Khan he must come alone, and across the Bihat to me."

  Nur-Mahal seemed to pay no attention, though Jahangir watched her. But when I advanced again to take my sword, she signed for one of the guards to bear it from the chamber.

  Having permission to depart, I made the triple salaam of leavetaking and rose, from the last bending in the entrance.

  At the instant I stood erect, the hangings were let fall before my eyes, shutting out sight of Jahangir and the Light of the Palace. And then all sight was reft from me. A heavy cloth was cast over my head from behind, and something closed around my throat, gripping tight through the cloth.

  Who may escape his fate? I groped with my hands for the girdles of my assailants, seeking weapons, and feeling nothing. The noose about my throat put an end to breathing and by it I was dragged over carpets, until a red fire blazed up within my eyeballs and all strength left me.

  Then the cloth and the noose were withdrawn, and in time I knew that I was bound at the wrists and knees, in darkness.

  My head pained me and my throat ached. An hour might have passed before a torch appeared suddenly in the rift of a curtain and I rolled over, to stare up into the dark eyes of Nur-Mahal and the faces of a dozen armed men.

  "Think, Ibn Athir," she cried, placing her slippered foot upon my throat under the chin and pressing down, so that pain anew shot through me, "think of this! It is unwise to meddle with strange affairs, and thy reward shall be to be carried upon the road in the carts of Asaf Khan, who will cover thee well with the fresh skin of an ox, sewn all about thee. Think-the sun is strong and great with heat, and an ox hide dries faster than any other."

  Then, her foot still upon my throat, she bade her followers search me. They found nothing but the three pearls that were to have bribed Asaf Khan.

  Chapter VI The Fate of Ind

  Until dawn I heard movement all around me. Horses trotted by in the distance, ox drivers muttered and swore, and carts creaked under heavy loads. Near my head the sounds were of bare feet moving about.

  In all this time the eyes of Nur-Mahal were in my mind, the lustrous eyes of a proud and beautiful woman. She alone must have had me bound, keeping it secret from the sick and besotted man who lay upon pillows and played with a jeweled cup. She had set me aside from her path as I might have flicked a scorpion with my staff.

  And Mahabat Khan-for what reason did she seek his ruin? Had he offended her, or had he grown too powerful? No doubt her spies had beheld him on the road, and he had been taken and beaten by officers of the Mogul, who said the command had come from Jahangir.

  So I reflected, and in time the light came. The stout mansabdar appeared at my side with two swordsmen.

  "Pleasant by thy prayers," he grinned, bidding the men cut the bonds from my ankles. "The cart waits and the hide is ready."

  We went forth through the corridors of the great pavilion. At this hour the sun did not yet shine full into the valley, and a light mist hung over the river, casting its veil amid the clumps of cypresses and the high plain trees. I had come forth on a carpet of red damask that stretched from the pavilion entrance down to the mist.

  The khanate had been removed, and I saw throngs of servants vanishing into the mists with their loads.

  Overhead the blue of the sky became clearer, and the veil of mist thinned slowly. The mansabdar stood waiting for his horse to be brought and watching the last of the elephants go down toward the bridge of boats.

  I also was watching the outline of the bridge take shape, wondering whether it were better to try to run from my guards and throw myself into the river. Few men were about-the tail ends of followers. The lashgar with its guns and armed bands had all crossed over.

  At last I could see the gray-blue bed of the river, over the steep clay bank. And I saw a horseman trotting through the high grass toward us. The sun shone full into our eyes and the rider was within a spear's length before I knew him.

  It was Mahabat Khan. Behind him rode a score, and after these still other Rajputs galloped across the trampled fields.

  The officer beside me shaded his eyes and peered up, his teeth striking together sharply.

  "Ohai! This is indeed presumption! Mahabat Khan, wait and I will go in and announce thee."

  "Nay Salim Bai, I will go in before thee, this time."

  The dark eyes of the khan met the startled gaze of the officer, and Salim Bai drew back several paces. The twenty who escorted the Pathan clattered up and some reined their steeds before the officer of the Mogul. Still others surrounded the great pavilion swiftly.

  Servants came forth from the entrances and stared in wonder. The two men who had been watching me sheathed their weapons and went away. In all perhaps two hundred Rajputs had come to the ata khanate with drawn swords and dark faces.

  And Mahabat Khan lost no least moment of opportunity. Eh, he was a leader, above all, a man fit to lead cavalry in a raid. Paying no attention to the bewildered servants or the irresolute Salim Bai, he summoned twoscore of his riders who carried bundles upon their cruppers. These he loosed like a flight of pigeons down the slope toward the river, galloping recklessly through the tail of miserable camp followers, until they dipped down the steep clay bank and smote the few guards who had been left at this end of the bridge of boats.

  My blood warmed at the sight. The Mogul's men knew not what to expect, but they drew their weapons when the hard riding Rajputs were within a few paces of them. Some of the guards tried to mount their horses; some tried to form across the first planks of the bridge.

  In a moment the Rajputs had broken them, knocking men and beasts into the swift current of the river and clearing the end of the bridge. Then they dismounted and fell to work with axes, cutting through the bottoms of the boats, cutting the lashings that held them together. From the bundles they had carried they took dried rushes and flax and kindled fire in this, starting a blaze in many of the boats that were swinging out into the current now. More than half of the bridge was destroyed in this way.

  And, mounted proudly upon my black Tatar charger that scamp, Jami, reined up to me, tugging his own pony behind.

  "Ohai sahib," he laughed, "they have trussed thee like a goat that is to be slain. I have ridden many leagues since the first light."

  But he slid down by the stirrup that dangled far below his bare foot and cut the cords that held my wrists at my back. He used a half-moon dab ger of a poor sort that he must have picked up in the disordered camp or begged from a servant. And he boasted without truth that the horses had carried him far, for the charger's coat was smooth, his limbs dry.

  "The praise to the Compassionate!" I cried, stretching forth my arms.

  Mahabat Khan glanced at me swiftly and nodded; then, seeing the boats burning out upon the river and all the armed forces of the lashgar save a retinue of young warriors waiting to escort the women of Jahangir on the far side of the river, he spoke to the chieftains near him and reined toward the imperial pavilion.

  Nay, he did not dismount. Whipping out his light saber, he slashed down the entrance hanging and bent his head, urging his horse into the corridor between the tapestries. Several followed him in this manner and Jami quivered with excitement.

  "Let us go in, my master," he whispered. "There will be a tumult, and-"

  He meant there would be spoil for the taking. Without a weapon I followed, and the Rajputs made way for me with courteous greeting since they knew me for the man who had befriended the Rao. The horse of Mahabat Khan stood before the entrance of the audience chamber, pawing at the red damask underfoot.

  Mahabat Khan himself paced forward slowly, and made a salaam, but without touching the carpet with his hand. Sitting among the disordered pillows, blinking in the sunlight, Jahangir the Mogul, without attendants and without armed men, faced him silently.

  Mahabat Khan advanced to the feet of the Mogul and stretched forth his arms, holding high his head.

  "I have come," he cr
ied in a clear voice, "because the enmity of Asaf Khan hath sought my death."

  In the court of the Mogul it was forbidden to pronounce this word, and Jahangir's dull eyes blazed with anger.

  "If I am guilty of any wrong," went on the Pathan grimly, "I ask only to be put to death in thy presence; if I am blameless, it shall be known to thee."

  At first Jahangir had trembled, his heavy hands moving across his weak knees. Verily, he had been roused from sleep a moment before, and he had seen me standing among the Rajputs at the chamber entrance. Perhaps he thought I had summoned Mahabat Khan out of the night, but surely he knew at once that he was a captive. The fleeing servants, the chieftains with bared swords, told him this.

  So he sat upright, like a sick lion, barely showing his teeth, and striving to gather his wits together.

  "Did I not send for thee?" he asked in his deep voice. "The sight of thee rejoices my heart, for with thee beside me I am safe from harm. Sit!"

  Mahabat Khan hesitated for the space of a breath. The Rajput princes beside me murmured, fingering their sword hilts. They hated Jahangir, yet served him, as their fathers had served Akbar, his father. Their blood was up, and at that moment they would have rushed in upon the bloated and cruel Mogul, the alien who was master of Ind. By a stroke of the sword they would have made an end of him.

  The Pathan, who was still faithful to the Mogul, seated himself at the edge of the carpet. Jahangir cried for his servants to bring wine, but no one came. Alone, with drug-dulled brain, he looked from one to the other, as if waking from a long sleep-he who had had men flayed alive and the skin torn from them for a whim.

  "Nay, Mahabat Khan," he said, "is it fitting that I should sit, half clad, before these emirs? I will go to the women's tents and put on fresh garments."

  "In time, 0 Padishah. But first there is need to go forth with me."

  "Whither?"

  "To the five thousand that await thee."

  Blood rushed into the heavy face of the Mogul, and his fingers tightened on the ruby cup.

  "I am thy captive," he said sulkily. "My fate is between thy hands."

  Once it was asked of a certain wise man whence he had his wisdom, and he made answer-

  "From the blind."

  And his followers asked the reason of this. He said-

  "Because the blind take no step without feeling the earth before them first."

  Mahabat Khan had drawn near the lash gar that sunrise with his two hundred, intending no more than to look upon the camp. Seeing the armed forces withdrawn across the river and the imperial tents almost deserted, he had put spurs to horse and charged, intending to secure the person of Jahangir.

  Wallah! He had succeeded. And if Jahangir had threatened him, or had tried to flee, a single stroke of a Rajput sword might have made Mahabat Khan a free man, free to deal with his foes and to stir into flame the embers of war.

  "Now," cried Jami, at my side, "we shall see swords drawn."

  This, at least, was true. The Rajputs were escorting Jahangir to another tent not so near the river bank. They had not allowed him to put on better garments, but had brought up an elephant from somewhere, an elephant without an umbrella and with only a plain chair in a wooden howdah. Jahangir mounted to his seat and the mahout made the beast go forward.

  Then the imperial horsemen far off around the women's quarters realized what was happening. They ran about hastily, getting to horse and drawing sabers and taking the lances from the slings.

  We followed-Jami and I-the elephant with its escort of a hundred Rajputs. It was no time to be without a weapon and I meant to find one and arm myself.

  And it seemed as if there would be no lack of swords on the ground, for the korchis-the picked imperial guardsmen-charged at a gallop, shouting, and evidently determined to rescue their master. A hundred Rajputs put their horses to a trot and advanced through the dry grass to meet them.

  In a moment the air was full of the clatter of steel and the war shouts. Saddles emptied all over the field. The Rajputs did not keep together, but fought each for himself, scorning the lance but wielding their light blades like shaitans.

  The Mogul's followers soon lost their array, and in single combat the Rajputs beat them to earth and rode them down. Before long the korchis were flying from the field.

  I went forward to pick up a sword when I encountered a woman coming from the nearest pavilion. She was veiled and wrapped in the colored mantle of a dancing girl and she walked with a swaying grace, without looking back at the fighting. Eh, it came into my mind that at such a moment a woman would keep to the tents-for the wives of the men of Ind are not like our women, who follow the clans to raid or battle.

  When she came abreast me she turned away her eyes. And from her hair arose a scent that I knew, the perfume of dried rose leaves. I put forth my hand to stay her and she swerved aside to avoid being touched. Surely a dancing girl would not have acted thus.

  "Thou art the Light of the Palace," I cried, certain indeed. "Is this the path to follow when thy lord is taken captive?"

  She turned her head to look around, and Jami pressed close, alive with curiosity. In all the days of our wandering he had not seen me in talk with a woman.

  Verily, this was Nur-Mahal. She lowered her veil with a swift motion and in the clear sunlight her beauty was no less than by night. But now her lips drooped and her eyes held appeal.

  "I go where I must, Ibn Athir," she cried softly. "Calamity hath fallen upon us, and if I am taken by the Rajputs, they will take life from me."

  Why did she withdraw her veil? Her skin was smooth and tinted by the blood beneath, like the rarest silks that come from Cathay. Startled, and dismayed, her pride hid all weakness as a cloak covers the rents of a garment. Only her eyes pleaded with me to keep her secret and suffer her to go, in her disguise.

  "To go whither?" I asked.

  "As God wills, perhaps to Lahore." Her eyes still dwelt upon my face, seeking my thoughts. "Will it profit thee, Ibn Athir, to deliver me to death?"

  "Without honor, there is no profit."

  At once she leaned toward me, half smiling.

  "Thy sword! That is thy desire. Salim Bai took it, and thou wilt find it in his baggage."

  Surely, she had read my thought! Even while I meditated, she fastened the veil in place and went on, moving without haste toward a clump of flowering shrubs. And I-I rubbed my fingers across my eyes, as a man will do who has been sleeping in strong sunlight. She was Nur-Mahal, and what was her fate to me?

  Nay, if I had taken her then to Mahabat Khan the fate of Ind might have been otherwise. I thought: She is alone, flying from execution. Let God guide her steps.

  And in the days thereafter I wondered whether she had not willed that I should think thus. But then I hastened to find Salim Bai and demand that my sword be given back. He was too afraid of the Rajputs to refuse.

  Jami, meanwhile, had deserted me again.

  After the dawn prayer on the second day I was summoned to the quarters of Mahabat Khan to attend Jahangir, who was worse than usual. I found the Pathan striding back and forth restlessly, while the Mogul lay prone on a white cloth with untasted dishes at his side.

  "He thinks that I have poisoned him," cried Mahabat Khan angrily.

  Jahangir glanced at me as a trussed criminal eyes the goaler who comes knife in hand. He was grunting and breathing with difficulty, and the blood throbbed in his pulse. Though the cool morning air blew through the tent, sweat hung upon his eyebrows and thick jowls. In spite of this, he pretended to be in excellent humor and called the khan his sword arm.

  When I rose from his side I beckoned toward Mahabat Khan, and when we were beyond the hearing of the sick man gave my opinion.

  "No man may outlive his allotted span, 0 my lord. The seal of almaut is written on the forehead of the padishah. He will not live more than two years."

  The Pathan started and clenched his sinewy hands.

  "Nay, hakim," he responded grimly, "dose the padishah
with physic, bleed him, purge him, and set him on his feet. Stripped of the parasites that have sucked his manhood, he may yet be king."

  "No man may alter what is written. Though I were promised the emeralds of Golkunda, I might not lengthen his life. Others might promise more, and lie. I have spoken the truth."

  For a moment his dark eyes bored into mine.

  "I believe thee, Ibn Athir."

  Then he turned back to the sick man, striding back and forth by the prostrate and panting form. The long, clean limbs of the warrior, and his clear eyes and firm step, gave him authority that the Mogul lacked. Suddenly he pulled at his beard and cried out in a loud voice:

  "In my youth, I served Akbar the Blessed, thy father. And I will say to the son what no other hath dared to utter. Upon my head be it!"

  He strode to the entrance of the tent, which was of heavy black velvet and, after looking out, let fall the flap.

  "Thy great-grandsire Babar the Tiger conquered India, and he was a man in all things. Thy father, passionate in temper and too fond of intrigue, was yet a true ruler, who devoted every hour of wakefulness to the affairs of the myriads that worshipped him. Lo, calamity came upon his head in his children. Thy brothers died in drunkenness."

  "Aye," nodded Jahangir, "they went out of the world in wine-soaked shrouds."

  Mahabat Khan glared at his royal captive and pulled the wide sleeve back from his muscular right arm.

  "These scars I had from the edge of steel in thy service. Because I was faithful to the salt, thy ministers sent me from the presence, giving me perilous tasks for nourishment, and stripping me of honor with their lies. Behold! "

  He drew from his girdle a gold coin, of a sort I had never seen. It was a mohur, one side bearing the likeness of the beautiful Light of the Palace, the other that of Jahangir, smiling, a cup upheld in his hand. Mahabat Khan threw it down and spat upon it.

  "Worthless! Asaf Khan the Persian hath taken the reins of authority from thee, and Nur-Mahal rules thee. Cease emptying cups and eating hemp and searching for new women! Give order to lead out thy horse and take command of the army, summoning the best of thine officers to thee. Then will we deal with Asaf Khan and his parasites."