The Slave Girl of Agra/Book 2/Chapter 8
VIII. COUNCIL CHAMBER
The brilliant scene which Noren had witnessed in the morning in the Hall of Audience was in striking contrast to the proceedings in the Council Chamber to which it was his privilege to be admitted the same evening. For the Emperor wished to have a clear view of the situation in Bengal, and he had desired Raja Man Singh to bring with him the young Bengal Chief.
The Council Chamber was a smaller room than the great Audience Hall, and it was Akbar's custom to receive private reports and hold private consultations within its walls on all grave affairs of State. Few except the highest Grandees were admitted here, few except those in whom the Emperor confided or whose presence was required. The Emperor sat in that Chamber, not as a Monarch robed in jewels and silk before a vast multitude of his subjects, but as a careworn old man, still directing with watchful solicitude the government of his Empire.
For forty-five years had this gifted man held his rule, and they were generally years of internal peace and of extension of the frontiers. Kabul and Kandahar, Kashmir and Sindh, and the rich provinces of Gajrat and Bengal had been added to the Empire, which now extended from the Himalayas to the Vindhyas, and from the mountains of the Hindu Kush to the frontiers of Assam. Recently he had crossed the Vindhya mountains and secured a footing in the south by the capture of Ahmadnagar. The vast Empire was divided into fifteen Provinces, and peopled by a hundred million subjects of all creeds, who were drawn closer to the throne by a wise policy of toleration and of trust. No Imperial workman of an age made illustrious by the reigns of Elizabeth and Henry IV. and Philip II. in the West strove with greater skill and bravery and wisdom to build, cement and consolidate an Empire.
And yet the closing years of his life were clouded by many anxieties and many private sorrows, and Noren saw deep lines of thought stamped on that open forehead. It was to hold consultations on these matters that the Emperor had invited some of his trusted advisers to the Council Chamber this evening.
"Noble Khan-Khanan," he said thoughtfully to the high officer who stood next to his seat, "on you I rely for a wise and beneficent administration of Ahmadnagar, which your arms have conquered."
"Little could my arms have achieved, mighty King of Kings, if your Majesty had not crossed the Vindhyas and directed our operations. Planets shine in the sky by the borrowed light of the great luminary which is the source of all radiance."
"Hard work is before you," continued Akbar, disregarding the compliment and the metaphor of the Khan-Khauan, "for Ahmadnagar has strong fighters yet, animated by the memory of the most heroic woman of our age and country."
"Your Majesty may well say so. Chand Sultana will live in the annals of the Moslems of Ahmadnagar, as Queen Dargabati lives in the records of the Hindus of Gondwana. Gifted with more than human gifts and courage, the two inspired women were sent to earth to shed lustre on your Majesty's reign, as the two lamps at the gateway illuminate the marble mosque of Agra."
Akbar was in no humour this evening to appreciate the florid poetry of the Khan-Khanan, but none appreciated the heroism of his foes more than he.
"I wish, Khan-Khanan, that those gifted women had survived the fall of their States. The richest Jaigir of my Empire I would willingly assign to Queen Dargabati if she was alive to-day. And the proudest Prince of my house would have welcomed the heroic Chand Sultana as a bride not unworthy of the royal house of Akbar. You have witnessed her prowess, noble Khan-Khanan."
"Ay, mighty Emperor, I will not deny that the valiant prince Murad and myself were beaten back by that heroic woman, and many were the brave Moguls who perished on the banks of the Godavari in that memorable action which lasted for two days. Prince Daniel, your Majesty's youngest son, was more successful; but Ahmadnagar was not taken until your Majesty helped our operations."
A shade of melancholy thought passed over the brow of the aged Emperor at the mention of his sons' names, and there was a tremor in his voice as he spoke again.
"My brave son, Murad, trod the slippery path which tempts youth, and passed away before his time, and much I fear my son Daniel, too, is inclined to follow the path of pleasure rather than the path of duty. You are a father to him, Khan-Khanan, and have given him your daughter in marriage. Keep him under your watchful eyes, and while he is the nominal Governor of Ahmadnagar be you careful in the administration of that State."
"Your Majesty's commands will be obeyed. Much honoured am I to have given my daughter's hand on the brave Prince Daniel. Greater men than myself court such an alliance, and I understand the King of Bijapur will soon bestow his fair girl on the same Prince. One of the most learned men of Southern India is negotiating the marriage."
"How do they call him?"
"He calls himself Ferishta, and it is said he is compiling a History of India from the time of Mahmud of Ghazni to your Majesty's own time. Our friend, Abul Fazel, will have to look to his laurels."
"The generous Abul Fazel will welcome a comrade in the profession of letters, and the grave Badaoni, too, will no doubt extend a friendly hand to his brother from the South. With the help of three such accomplished Knights of the Pen," added Akbar, with a smile, "our deeds may be sometimes remembered in this land when we are dead and gone."
"Ay, in other lands too, or I am much mistaken, sire," said the Khan-Khanan. "The fame of the gifted Abul Fazel is not confined to the land of Hind. I have not seen the sword of Akbar, wrote your Majesty's royal brother of Persia, but Abul Fazel's pen strikes fear in one's mind. The fame of that pen will survive when we are laid in our graves."
"And the fame of your inkstand too, noble Khan-Khanan," said Abul Fazel, returning the compliment, "if you can recover it from the heedless beggar."
"Abul Fazel," said the Emperor, turning to him with a gracious countenance, "much we owe to your guidance in the work of my life, and to your pen for a faithful record of our work. But we claim your help in other matters at present. The conduct of my eldest born fills my heart with anxiety and grief."
"Your Majesty," said Raja Man Singh, "appointed Prince Selim as Governor of Ajmir when you went to the South, and I came from Bengal to lend him my humble aid. Sorry I was that disasters in Bengal called me back to that Province and I had to leave the Prince alone. But Bengal has now been reconquered, and the Afghans will not stir again after the lesson they have learnt. If it be your Majesty's wish I will go now and join the Prince and complete the conquest of the last Rajput State which still holds out."
"Worthy work for a Rajput!" muttered the gallant Prithwi Raj to himself.
Raja Man Singh pretended not to hear that gay Troubadour Prince, but a dark flush on his face indicated that his ear had caught his words.
"No, Raja Man Singh, I will not take you away from Bengal again. You have ruled that fair Province well and wisely for ten years and more, and you will rule there as long as I am alive. Nor is the war with Mewar now uppermost in my thoughts; it is for my son Selim that I am anxious. The Prince gave up all thoughts of Mewar when you returned to Bengal, and hastened to Agra to capture the fort and seat himself on the throne. Foolish Prince! he thinks not that this Empire is a trust from the Most High, and that the sacred trust will descend to him in God's appointed time. But Princes are impatient, and will not let an old man die peacefully."
Akbar smiled as he spoke the last words, but his eyes betrayed a deep anxiety which Raja Man Singh read correctly.
"If your Majesty thinks thus of Prince Selim," said the Raja, "will it not be as well to provide for the security of the Empire when we are no more? Prince Selim has worthy sons; will not the sceptre be safer in their hands than in the hands of the misguided Selim?"
The keen-sighted Emperor knew the thoughts that were in Man Singh's mind. The Raja's sister had been married to Prince Selim, and had borne him his eldest son, Prince Khasru, now a promising boy. Man Singh's greater affection for his sister's son, and perhaps his regard for the safety of the Empire, suggested to him the idea that the worthless and abandoned Prince Selim might be set aside and that Prince Khasru might succeed Akbar. But the wise Akbar would not listen to the suggestion; and history records that his influence, exerted when he was on his death-bed, secured the succession of Selim against the powerful wishes of Man Singh and his many friends.
"No, Raja Man Singh," said Akbar, after reflection, "I cannot assent to your suggestion. Your sister's son is as fine a lad as I have seen, and none of my grandsons is dearer to my heart than gallant Khasru. But to set aside the father in favour of the son would be a bad example. An irregular succession to the throne of India," he added with prophetic wisdom, "would lead to crimes and bloodshed in the future. Selim has been undutiful to me, but I have forgiven him and will lead him back to obedience. And you, Abul Fazel, ever my wisest counsellor and friend, must render me your help in this matter."
"Let your Majesty speak and your faithful servant will obey."
"Prince Selim came to Agra during my absence in the South, but was not admitted into the fort. From Agra, he proceeded to Allahabad, and appropriated the revenues of Behar to make his preparations. He then secretly visited this palace, ostensibly to see his mother, and my guards had orders to let him come and go. Perhaps he had a darker object, for he posted his horsemen near the river and brought armed eunuchs into the fort. I care not to pry too minutely into his designs, for no harm was done, and this morning I honoured him in open Darbar before he left Agra. To Allahabad he has gone; I wish you, Abul Fazel, to follow him there with an adequate force, and to point out to him the path of duty and of love. Go, Abul Fazel, not as a commander of my forces to punish a rebel, but as a messenger from a loving father to an erring son."
"To hear is to obey, my Royal Master."
"You, Abul Fazel, have powers of persuasion and argument," resumed Akbar, "such as are given to few among the sons of men. Go and persuade Prince Selim into the path of duty; watch him and guide him as the worthy Khan-Khanan will guide my other son in the Deccan."
The last words were said almost inaudibly. Abul Fazel bowed low to signify his obedience to the royal command. He never returned from that mission. History records that the base Prince Selim had Abul Fazel murdered by hired assassins.
The conversation then turned on Bengal, and Raja Man Singh was the principal spokesman. He had not the gift of words or of poetry like the eloquent Khan-Khanan, but he sketched out in a few clear words the actual situation in that distant Province. The attempts of the Afghans were like the flames of a dying fire. Bengal had accepted the Mogul rule, the administration had been organised, all the Hindu Chiefs had given their cordial support to the Mogul Power. Raja Man Singh then brought Noren closer to the throne, and stated in a few gracious words how Noren's grandfather had been faithful to the Mogul cause when Raja Todar Mull's position in that land was dubious, and how Noren himself had served in many a hard-fought action in a manner which the grim Rajput warrior was pleased to approve.
It was a proud moment for Noren when the great Raja Man Singh spoke thus and the Emperor listened. Akbar himself said a few words of approbation. Noren's heart was too full for words; he bowed low to the ground in acknowledgment of the royal favour.
"One more subject weighs on my mind, my faithful counsellors," said Akbar, "and I will not detain you long as it is growing late. Rana Pratap Singh, who resisted my Imperial arms for twenty years in his native wilds of Mewar, is dead. He was my foe, but he was one of the bravest of men that have ever lived in the annals of nations. You have met him in battle, Raja Man Singh."
"Ay, sire," replied Man Singh in a voice trembling with suppressed anger, "I met him once twenty-five years ago, and the Pass of Haldighat was crimsoned with Rajput and Mogul blood before we parted. I would give ten years of my life to have met him once again face to face before he died, for there was an old debt to repay which a Rajput never forgets. But Pratap Singh is dead, and may the soul of a brave man rest in peace."
Akbar knew something of Rajput feuds and hatreds as he knew of Rajput heroism, and he understood the feelings of Raja Man Singh. But he never encouraged these feuds, and it was the endeavour of his life to maintain the integrity and virtual independence of the Rajput States while requiring homage and service in the cause of the Empire. Pratap Singh alone had refused this homage, but partly from a generous appreciation of his heroism, partly from entanglements in other parts of the Empire, and partly also to conciliate his Hindu subjects, Akbar ceased in the closing years of his reign to proceed actively against Mewar.
"Chitore, the capital of Mewar, is mine," said Akbar, "and Pratap Singh's son is dwelling in the new town of Udaipur, by the side of a lake enclosed by inaccessible hills. Let him be in peace. I have no desire to carry on the war after his brave father is gone."
Man Singh's face was flushed with anger, the eyes of Prithwi Raj sparkled with joy.
"More than this, I desire to send a message of my good-will to the young Prince of Mewar, a message of condolence on the death of his father. Sooner or later the Prince will see the unwisdom of his father's ways, and will join the other brave Rajput Chiefs in common defence of a common Empire. I have no desire to hasten that time, and meanwhile let there be peace in the land."
All the counsellors approved of this design, all except Raja Man Singh, who maintained a sullen silence. But one or two stern and unbending Doctors of the Moslem religion approved not a peace with an infidel; ecclesiastics will speak when statesmen are silent.
"With you, venerable Doctors, I will have a further talk another day. In the meantime, who of you present here would wish to convey my condolence and message of peace to Amar Singh, son of Pratap Singh?"
Prithwi Raj stepped forward proudly before the Emperor and bowed. "Every Rajput Chief is proud to do honour, sire, to the House of Mewar, which is the highest in rank among us. And I shall consider it a privilege if your Majesty entrusts to me this message of peace to the son of Pratap Singh."
"Gallant Prince," said Akbar, "your request is granted. Rajasthan has produced no gifted bard, and Pratap Singh had no zealous admirer, equal to thee. My message, conveyed by you, will be doubly welcome to Pratap's son, and you can choose suitable officers from my Court to accompany you in this mission."
"If Raja Man Singh will permit I would choose his subordinate officer, Gajapati Singh, to be my companion. He is of the Royal House of Jodhpur, and allied to our Royal House of Bikanir. Gajapati Singh and I have been friends through life, let us be comrades in this mission."
"The services of my subordinates are my King's," said Man Singh, gruffly, "and if His Majesty selects Gajapati for this work I bow to his Imperial command. Gajapati has been a brave officer under me, and will discharge well any duty imposed upon him."
"So be it then," said the Emperor as he rose from his seat. "Let Gajapati be thy comrade in this mission of peace, and take with him the young Bengal Chief whom Gajapati has brought to our Court."
The Councillors bowed to the Emperor and departed. Noren was the last to leave, and tears of gratitude for this new favour of the Emperor stood in his eyes as he made his parting salaam. The Emperor understood his feelings, and spoke kindly, as a father to a son.
"Norenda Nath Roy, I have granted thee thy wish to visit Rajasthan. Tarry not, for thy mission brooks no delay. And hark thee, young man," added Akbar, with a smile, "Rajasthan, methinks, is a safer place for thee now than the fort of Agra, where Tartar maids are bewitching and eunuch guards are vindictive."
A bolt from the blue sky could scarcely have startled Noren more than these soft whispered words. But, before he had recovered from his surprise and terror, the Emperor was gone!