Part 28 (1/2)

The two _chitahs _tensed at the same instant and pulled taut the chains on their jewel-studded collars. They were tawny, dark-spotted Indian hunting leopards, and they rode in carpeted litters, one on each side of the elephant's back. Each wore a brocade saddlecloth signifying its rank, and now both began to flick the black-and-white striped tips of their tails in antic.i.p.ation.

Prince Jadar caught their motion and reined in his dun stallion; the bright morning suns.h.i.+ne glanced off his freshly oiled olive skin and highlighted the crevices of his lean angular face and his tightly trimmed short beard. He wore a forest-green hunting turban, secured with a heavy strand of pearls, and a dark green jacket emblazoned with his own royal crest. His fifty-man Rajput guard had drawn alongside, and their horses tossed their heads and pawed impatiently, rattling the arrows in the brocade quivers by each man's saddle.

Then Jadar spotted the _nilgai_, large bovine Indian deer, grazing in a herd upwind near the base of a low-lying hill. With a flick of his hand he signaled the keepers who rode alongside the to begin removing the leopards' saddlecloths. He watched as first the male and then the female shook themselves and stretched their paws in readiness.

”Fifty rupees the male will make the first kill.” Jadar spoke quietly to Vasant Rao, the moustachioed young Rajput captain who rode alongside. The commander of the prince's personal guards, he was the only man in India Jadar trusted fully.

”Then give me two hundred on the female, Highness.”

”A hundred. And half the hides for your regiment's s.h.i.+eld maker.” Jadar turned toward the waiting keepers. ”Release the female. Then count to a hundred and release the male.”

In moments the _chitahs _were bulleting toward the unsuspecting deer, darting from bush to bush, occasionally kicking up dust with their forefeet and hind legs to create camouflage. Then, as they approached the final clearing, they suddenly parted--the female to the north, the male to the south. Seconds later, as though on some private signal, the female sprang. She seemed to cover the remaining twenty yards in less than a second, and before the _nilgai _realized she was there, she had already pawed down a bleating straggler.

The striped ears of the other _nilgai _shot erect at the sound, and the herd panicked, sweeping blindly away from her--and directly toward the cover where the male crouched. He waited coolly, and then, as the deer darted by, pounced.

What followed was a fearsome devastation, as he brought down one after another of the confused prey with his powerful claws.

”The female killed first, Highness. I a.s.sume our bet was in gold coins, not silver.” Vasant Rao laughed lightly and turned to study the brooding man at his side. Can it be true what many suspect about the prince? he again found himself wondering. That he choses his strategy for a campaign from the final hunt of his _chitahs_!

But what strategy is left for us? The Deccanis have already reclaimed the city of Ahmadnagar, deep in their territory, and once again made it their rebel capital. They drove the Moghul garrison north to the fort at Burhanpur, and now they threaten that city as well, the most important station in the vital route between Agra and Surat. We haven't the men and horse to turn them back. Not this time.

This was Prince Jadar's second campaign in the Deccan, India's revolt- torn central plains, which lay far south of Agra and east of the port of Surat, and the second time he had led his army to regain cities lost to Malik Ambar, the Abyssinian adventurer and military genius who periodically rose to lead the Deccan against Moghul rule. The Deccan had never been secure, even under the Moghurs father, Akman, but under Arangbar it had become a burial ground of reputation. One of the Moghurs finest generals, whose dispatches from Ahmadnagar, only the previous year, had boasted that the Deccan was finally subdued, now cowered in the fortress at Burhanpur. Arangbar had no choice but to send Jadar again.

”Did you see how they planned their attack?” Jadar fingered the edges of his short beard, then pointed. ”She drove them toward his trap. By attacking the weak, she frightened the strong, who flew to their doom.”

”We're not facing _nilgai_, Highness.” Vasant Rao s.h.i.+fted in his saddle to face the prince and s.h.i.+elded his eyes against the sun. ”And our position is much worse than on the last campaign. This time we have only eighteen thousand men, all encamped here at Ujjain, all weary to their bones from our siege at the Kangra, north in the Punjab, and then the long march down country. While Malik Ambar waits rested and secure in Ahmadnagar, his own capital, a two months' march south.”

”We'll bring Ambar to terms just as before, three years ago. By fear.”

Jadar watched as the keepers began measuring the rations of meat to reward the _chitahs_. And he reflected over the secret envoy received early that morning from the commander of the fortress at Mandu, the northern outpost of the Deccan. . . .

”Your Highness is respectfully advised the situation is worse, much worse, than told in the reports sent by Ghulam Adl.” They were alone in Jadar's tent and the envoy was on his knees, prostrate, terrified at his obligation to bring ill tidings to the son of the Moghul. Ghulam Adl was the general in charge of the Deccan, who had abandoned Ahmadnagar to Malik Ambar and retreated north to Burhanpur. His official reports still maintained an air of bravado, claiming a few reinforcements were all that was required to drive the rebels to final extinction.

”We have asked Ghulam Adl for troops to help defend Mandu, but he cannot leave Burhanpur,” the envoy continued. ”The Deccanis have surrounded the city, but they do not trouble themselves with a siege.

They know he cannot move. So they have sent eight thousand light cavalry, Maratha irregulars, north across the Narbada River to plunder outlying districts. They are approaching Mandu, and will be at the fortress within the week.”

”Why doesn't Ghulam Adl call up troops from among the _mansabdars_.

They've all been granted their annual allowance for maintenance of cavalry.”

_Mansabdars _were n.o.bles of the Moghul empire who had been given rank by the Moghul and were allowed to collect revenue from a specified number of estates and villages, allotted lands called _jagirs_, as a reward for service and loyalty. They collected taxes for the Imperial treasury in Agra, which allowed them a portion to maintain cavalry and equipage at the ready. a.s.signment of a _jagir _always carried the responsibility of maintaining a specified number of troops and cavalry, which they were obliged to muster when requested by the Moghul.

”The _mansabdars_ have no men to muster, may it please Your Highness.”

The envoy's face was buried in the carpet, showing to Jadar only the dust-covered back of his turban. ”Conditions have been severe over the past year. Crops have been bad, and many _mansabdars _could not collect taxes because of the Deccani raids. Many have not paid their cavalry for over a year. The _mansabdars _still feed the horses that have been branded and placed in their care. But they have not fed the men who must ride. Most of those have returned to their villages. There can be no army without coin to lure them back. The _mansabdars _are fearful of Malik Ambar now, and many have secretly agreed with him not to muster even the troops they still have.”

”How many Deccani troops are encamped around Burhanpur?”

”Our spies report as many as eighty thousand, Highness. Ghulam Adl dares not leave the fort in the center of the city. He has no more than five thousand men still remaining loyal, and his supplies are short.”

Jadar had ordered immediate solitary confinement for the envoy, lest the news reach the camp. Now, watching his _chitahs _feed, he calculated his next move.