Gulbadan leaned further forward into the light, her young face very tired. ‘Humayun, I’m sorry. Kamran wasn’t there — only Askari. Hearing of your advance, some weeks ago Kamran rode to Kabul which he means to defend against you.’
‘And Akbar?’
‘Kamran took him with him to Kabul. But Humayun — there is still hope. Askari assured me Akbar is in good health and that Maham Anga is with him. . ’
‘How can I trust a word Askari says when he follows a man prepared to use a child as a weapon against me?’
‘Askari does feel the shame of it, I think. Also, from what he says I believe he thinks that, by ordering him to remain behind in Kandahar, Kamran has left him to bear the brunt of your anger.’
‘Will Askari surrender Kandahar to me?’
‘He will — on the promise that you will spare his life and those of his men.’
Humayun smiled grimly. ‘He can keep his miserable life and so may his men, but my offer of free passage was conditional on the safe return of Akbar. Askari, at least, will stay in my custody until I have found my son and dealt with Kamran.What of Hindal? Did you learn anything of his fate?’
‘My brother is often in my thoughts and I pressed Askari about what had happened to him. . He told me that Kamran ordered Hindal to be taken to the fort at Jalalabad and held prisoner there. But somehow on the way there he managed to escape. That was many months ago and Askari does not know where he has gone. . I hope my brother is safe.’
‘So do I.Though we had our differences I was not blameless and he was more of a brother to me than either of the others. But you, Gulbadan, you are a true sister to me and a true friend to Hamida. What you did today was hard and I’m grateful.’
It was a bitter thing that Babur’s sons should be so divided. Humayun was locked in gloom as he walked slowly back to his horse. Arriving back at the camp, he went straight to Hamida. She was waiting inside the women’s tent and at his sombre look the light of hope in her dark eyes faded. ‘So Kamran has refused your offer.’
‘Not even that. He wasn’t there. Hamida — he has taken Akbar to Kabul. . ’
As tears welled in her eyes, Humayun caught her to him. ‘Listen to me. We mustn’t despair. Askari is still in Kandahar and he promised Gulbadan that Akbar is in good health. That at least is good news.’
‘But Kabul is so far away. . ’
‘It’s three hundred miles away and I’d go three thousand miles to recover our son. You know that. . ’
‘I do, but it’s so hard. I think constantly about Akbar and what might be happening to him, even when I try to sleep. When I was pregnant and we were fleeing Maldeo, I couldn’t help imagining how it would feel to have him cut living from my womb. I felt the cold blade in my flesh. This worry is as bad. . it’s like a physical pain. I’m not sure how much more of it I can bear.’
‘Be strong for a little longer. . be strong for our son, just as you were when Maldeo plotted our destruction.Askari has offered to surrender Kandahar to me. As soon as I have secured it, we ride for Kabul.’ He felt her body relax a little and she stepped back from him.
‘You’re right — disappointment made me speak as I did. I had convinced myself I would get Akbar back within a day or two. It was foolish to build up my hopes.’
‘It was only natural. I’d let myself hope too. I also must learn patience and persistence. Taking strength from each other we will endure and succeed.’
A few minutes later, Humayun entered his command tent, sat down, took a piece of paper and scratched a few sentences on it. Then, though it was growing late, he summoned his war council.
‘Ahmed Khan, I want you to send a detachment of your men to Kandahar tonight taking this letter to my half-brother Askari. My message to him is simple. “Tomorrow I will ride at the head of my forces to your gates. If you open them to me, as you promised our sister, you will keep your life though you will be my prisoner. If you attempt in any way to deceive me, your life — and the lives of your men — are forfeit. The choice is yours.”’
As Ahmed Khan hurried off, Humayun addressed the rest of his commanders.
‘Tomorrow, if my half-brother keeps his word, we will occupy Kandahar. Bairam Khan, I ask you to select two thousand of your men under the leadership of your most trustworthy senior officers to garrison the fortress.’
Bairam Khan nodded.‘I will choose from among my archers and musketeers and, if you agree, Majesty, I will also detail a detachment of cavalry to remain to patrol the surrounding country.’
‘An excellent suggestion, Bairam Khan. Once our garrison is in place in Kandahar, we set out for Kabul. Though it is a long journey through difficult mountain terrain, we must travel hard and fast. Every day that passes gives my half-brother more time to buy allies and strengthen his position there.’
‘What about our baggage train? That will slow us,’ asked Zahid Beg.
‘We will carry what we can with us and designate a small force to protect the baggage train, including our cannon, which must follow at the best pace it can. But the hour grows late. We will meet again an hour before dawn to prepare for our advance on Kabul.’
The long valley, framed to north and south by sweeping grey mountains, was filled with tents radiating out in lines from the centre where Humayun’s scarlet command tent stood. To its right were the tents of his senior officers, a bright scarlet banner streaming from the roof of Bairam Khan’s. To the left, enclosed by wooden screens fastened together by leather thongs, were the haram tents where the women had their private accommodation. Hamida and Gulbadan had insisted on travelling with Humayun rather than with the slower baggage column and neither had murmured a word of complaint about the forced marches of fourteen hours a day.
But despite their efforts Kabul still lay nearly a hundred and fifty miles away to the northeast and there was little Humayun could do to increase their pace. All the time it was growing colder. Though it was only early October, the gusting winds already carried a few flakes of snow. Before too long it would be full winter.
At least as he advanced his army was swelling with new recruits. Ahmed Khan had just told him that another group of deserters from Kamran had ridden into the camp offering him their allegiance. Humayun had ordered the leader to be brought to him for questioning.
Half an hour later, Humayun looked down at the man lying at his feet, arms outstretched, in the formal obeisance of the korunush. From his black boots embroidered with red stars, an emblem of their clan, Humayun guessed he was a chieftain of the Kafirs who dwelled in the kotals, the high, narrow passes around Kabul. The Kafirs were notorious turncoats. When Humayun was just a boy, his father had made an example of the men of one Kafir village who had murdered his envoys by having them impaled before the walls of Kabul so that the earth had been stained red with their blood.
‘Get up. You are a Kafir, are you not?’
‘Yes, Majesty.’ The man, weather-beaten, squat and bandy-legged, looked gaunt and his sheepskin jerkin was torn.
‘Why have you and your men come here?’
‘To offer to serve you, Majesty.’
‘But you served my half-brother Kamran, didn’t you?’
The Kafir nodded.
‘Why did you desert him?’
‘He broke his word. He promised us gold but he gave us nothing. When two of my men complained he had them flung from the walls of the citadel of Kabul.’
‘When was this?’
‘Three weeks ago. A few days later, when your brother sent us foraging into the mountains, we did not return but came in search of your army.’
‘What was happening in Kabul before you left?’
‘Your brother was fortifying the citadel and laying in supplies ready for a siege — that was why he sent parties like ours out foraging. He fears you, Majesty. He knows, as does the whole of Kabul, that you are advancing with a great army. . that you have Persian troops under your command and that in the eyes of the world you, not he, is padishah. . ’