Part 28 (2/2)

I have to requisition silver coin from the treasury at Agra, and hope a supply caravan can still get through. In the meantime I'll muster the remaining cavalry from the _mansabdars_, on the threat their _jagirs_ will be confiscated if they fail to deliver. It won't raise many men, but it will slow defections.

But if we're to recall the men still loyal, we must have silver. To raise the thirty thousand men we need, men who've not been paid for a year, will require at least five million rupees, fifty _lakhs_. I must have it by the time we reach Burhanpur. If we can hold that city, we can raise the army from there.

”Malik Ambar sued for peace three years ago because his alliance came apart.” Vasant Rao spoke again, watching Jadar carefully, knowing that the prince was deeply troubled, had imprisoned a courier that very morning for which there could only be one reason--then released pigeons that flew north.

”And his alliance will come apart again. If we sow enough fear.” Jadar seemed annoyed at the delay as the waiting _chitahs _were re-harnessed and the last carca.s.ses of blue _nilgai _were loaded onto the ox-drawn wagons for return to the camp. ”You still haven't learned to think like a _chitah_.”

Jadar signaled the hunt was finished and wheeled his horse back toward the camp. Vasant Rao rode a few paces behind, asking himself how long that regal head would remain on those royal shoulders.

You're threatened now on every side. You cannot be as oblivious as you seem.

He thought back over Prince Jadar's career. Of the Moghul's four sons, Prince Jadar was the obvious one to succeed. Jadar's elder brother Khusrav had been blinded by the Moghul years before for attempting a palace revolt. Jadar's brother Parwaz, also older than the prince, was a notorious drunkard and unacceptably dissolute, even by the lax standards of the Moghul's court. And Jadar's younger brother, Allaudin, was the handsome but witless son of a concubine, who well deserved his secret nickname, Nashu-dani, ”the good-for-nothing.” Since there was no law in India that the oldest must automatically succeed, power devolved to the fittest. Only Jadar, son of a royal Rajput mother, could lead an army, or rule India. Among the Moghul's four sons, he was the obvious, deserving heir.

But ability alone was never enough to ensure success in the mire of palace intrigue. One must also have a powerful friend.

For years Prince Jadar had the most powerful friend of all.

The grooming of Jadar for office had begun over five years earlier, when he was taken under the protection of Queen Janahara. She had made herself the guardian of Jadar's interests at court; and two years ago she had induced the Moghul to elevate Jadar's _mansab_, his honorary rank, to twelve thousand _zat_. In income and prestige he had soared far beyond his brothers.

As is always the case, Jadar was expected to repay his obligation. On the day he ascended to the throne and a.s.sumed power from the ailing, opium-sotted Arangbar, he was expected to share that power with Queen Janahara.

But their unofficial alliance had begun to go wrong. Very wrong. And what had gone wrong was the most obvious problem of all. Jadar had lived half his life in army camps, fighting the Moghul's wars because he was the only son who could fight them, and he no longer saw any reason to relinquish his battle-earned inheritance to the queen.

What will the queen do? Vasant Rao asked himself again. I know she has turned on the prince. I know she tried to marry her Persian daughter to Jadar's blinded brother Khusrav, but Jadar discovered this and demanded Khusrav be sent out of Agra, to be kept in confinement by a raja loyal to the prince. But the queen is still in Agra, and sooner or later she will produce another successor, a creature she can dominate. Her task will be easy if Jadar fails in this campaign.

”I have reports Maratha irregulars may be at the fort at Mandu within a week.” Jadar broke the silence between them as they rode. The noisy Rajput hors.e.m.e.n rode discreetly well behind, cursing, laughing, wagering. The flawless blue sky seemed to cloud as Jadar spoke. ”Tell me what you would do?”

”Strike camp and march south. We have no choice.”

”Sometimes you Rajputs show less wit than your monkey G.o.d, Hanumanji.”

Jadar laughed good-naturedly. ”You learned nothing from the hunt today.

Don't you see that would merely scatter them? They'll never dare meet us if we march in force. They'll only stage small raids. Hara.s.s our baggage train. No, we must do just the opposite.” Jadar reined in his horse, turned to Vasant Rao, and lowered his voice. ”Think like a _chitah _for once, not like an impulsive Rajput. We'll send a small cavalry force only--five hundred horse, you will help me pick them--who will disperse, ride separately, never show their numbers. Like a _chitah _stalks. No supply contingent. No elephants. No wagons. And, after the Marathas have set their siege at Mandu, our cavalry will quietly group and attack their flank. As they fall back, which they always do when facing a disciplined unit, the cavalry in the fort will ride out in force, forming the second arm of a pincer. And that will be the last we see of Malik Ambar's famous Maratha irregulars. They'll return to pillaging baggage trains and helpless villages.”

”And after that?”

”We'll march directly on Burhanpur. We should reach it in less than a month.”

”The Marathas will begin to hara.s.s our supply trains as soon as we cross the Narbada River. If they don't attack us while we cross.”

”After Mandu, that's the one thing they will not do. Remember the _chitahs_. The Marathas will never know where our Mandu cavalry may be waiting in ambush.”

”And when we reach Burhanpur?”

”We'll make our camp there, and muster cavalry from all the _mansabdars_.” Jadar pa.s.sed over how he intended to do this. ”That will be the end of Ambar's many alliances. We'll have the men we need to march in force on the south, on to Ahmadnagar, within the week. And Malik Ambar will sue for peace and return the territory he's seized, just like before.”

Vasant Rao nodded in silent acknowledgment, asking himself what the prince was withholding. The strategy was far too straightforward for Jadar.

The camp was coming into view now. A vast movable city, it was easily several miles in circuit. Even from afar, however, Jadar's ma.s.sive central tent dominated. It was bright red and stationed in the center of the _gulal bar_, a restricted central zone almost two hundred yards on the side that formed the focal point of the camp. Behind Jadar's tent, separated by a figured satin part.i.tion, were the red chintz tents of the women, where his first wife, Mumtaz, and her attendants stayed.

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