‘Very well.’
As Bairam Khan entered Humayun noticed that the scar on his neck was pink and puckered and still very new-looking. He was a good fighter and a clever tactician. Though Rustum Beg was overall commander of the Persian forces, it had been obvious to Humayun almost from the start that Bairam Khan was their true leader and general. He would be sorry to lose him.
‘What is it, Bairam Khan?’
Bairam Khan hesitated, as if what he wished to say wasn’t easy. Then, fixing his indigo eyes on Humayun’s face, he began. ‘I know what Rustum Beg has told you. . I am sorry.’
‘No blame attaches to you. What I am sorry for is that I will lose you-’
‘Majesty,’ the usually courteous Bairam Khan broke in, ‘hear me out. When we were attacked in the defile on the way to Kabul, you saved me. Never in all the battles I have fought had I felt death so close. . in my mind’s eye I already saw my grave dug in that lonely place. But you gave my life back to me. I have come to ask you to let me repay you.’
‘There is no debt, Bairam Khan. I only did what any man on the battlefield would do when he sees a comrade — a friend — in danger.’
‘I do not wish to return to Persia with Rustum Beg but to remain with you and do all in my power to further your cause. Will you take me into your service?’
Humayun rose, and stepping forward gripped Bairam Khan’s arm. ‘There is no man in the entire Persian army I would rather have fighting by my side. . ’
‘Majesties. . Majesties. . wake up.’ Someone was gently shaking his shoulder. . or was it just a dream? Humayun moved closer to the soft warmth of Hamida’s body lying close beside him. But the shaking grew more insistent. Humayun opened his eyes to see Zainab, an oil lamp in her hand, standing over them. In the flickering light, he saw she looked excited, the birthmark on her face seeming more pronounced than usual.
‘What is it?’ Beside him, Hamida opened sleepy eyes.
‘Half an hour ago a man tried to ride into the camp. When the pickets challenged him, he would not say who he was but asked to be taken to Zahid Beg. After talking to him, Zahid Beg, knowing you were with Her Majesty in the women’s tents, sent for me and asked me to summon you.’
‘Why the urgency? Can’t it wait till sunrise?’
‘Zahid Beg told me nothing. . only to ask that you come at once. . ’
‘Very well.’ Humayun rose and wrapping a long, sheepskin-lined coat around him stepped out into the chilling wind. Who could it be? Perhaps Kamran had sent a messenger, though why he should do so by dead of night was a mystery. By the light of a brazier of glowing charcoals, he saw Zahid Beg standing beside a tall, square-shouldered man wearing a dark cloak with the hood pulled forward concealing his face. Could it be an assassin sent by Kamran. . or even by the Shah of Persia?
‘Is he armed, Zahid Beg?’
‘No, Majesty. He volunteered to let us search him.’
As Humayun drew closer, the man pushed the hood back with a slow, deliberate gesture. Even in the shadowy light from the brazier, Humayun knew at once that it was Hindal, thick-set face now heavily bearded but still unmistakably his half-brother. For a moment, the two of them stared at one another in silence. Despite all that had happened since, memories of Hindal were suddenly vivid again in Humayun’s mind — of Hindal as a baby in Maham’s arms, of how he had taught his younger brother to ride his first pony, of Hindal’s joy when he had shot his first rabbit; then later memories of the look on Hindal’s face at the time of his rebellion, of how he had loyally accompanied Humayun on his first journey as an exile to Mirza Husain and Maldeo; then above all of their last meeting — how they had pounded each other with their fists over Hamida and how, after spitting at Humayun’s feet, a bleeding, bruised but still defiant Hindal had ridden away.
‘Leave us, please, and make sure no one disturbs us.’ Humayun waited until Zahid Beg had disappeared into the darkness, all the while looking hard at Hindal, then asked, ‘Why have you come here? And why alone, placing yourself in my power like this?’
‘For some months — since escaping from Kamran — I have been taking refuge with my remaining loyal friends in the high hills of Jagish, northeast of Kabul. But news travels even to such remote regions. I learned what Kamran had done — how he had exposed Akbar on the battlements of the Kabul citadel as your cannon pounded its walls. His actions shocked me — they defy everything noble in our warrior code and stain our family’s honour.’
‘Fine sentiments, but you still haven’t answered my question. Let us be frank with one another. Why have you come?’
‘To help get Akbar back.’
Humayun was so astonished that for a few moments he could only stare at the massive figure of his half-brother, calmly warming his large hands over the brazier.
‘I know what you’re thinking.’ Hindal filled the silence. ‘You are asking yourself why I should wish to help you. It’s simple. Despite the blood ties that will bind us till death, you and I will never be reconciled. That won’t change. I have come here tonight for Hamida and Hamida alone. . to help relieve her agony by offering to bring her child back to her. . She must be suffering. . ’
Humayun shifted uneasily, uncomfortable about talking to Hindal about Hamida at all and even more so to be talking to him about how he had failed her by being unable to recover her son.
‘If you have truly come with thoughts of easing Hamida’s grief, I am grateful to you.’ He paused again, then made up his mind to swallow his pride. ‘To be honest as I said we should be, she has known no true rest or peace of mind since Akbar was taken. . But when you speak of help, what do you mean? I have been besieging the citadel for nearly four months with no success. What do you think you can do alone that I can’t with my army?’
‘I can win Kamran’s confidence and get into the citadel. Once inside, I can find a way of rescuing Akbar.’
‘How? Why should Kamran trust you any more than me?’
‘I can do it because I understand him, because I know his weaknesses. He despises you and believes he is the natural head of our family. I will use his conceit, his vanity, to convince him that I have come to my senses and wish to be his ally again. . to reunite the rest of Babur’s sons behind him against you. But it all depends on creating an illusion. . ’
‘Go on.’
‘You must raise the siege and make it appear you are leading your forces away from Kabul. That will leave the way clear for me to bring my own men down from the hills and offer Kamran an alliance. . ’
‘You are suggesting I abandon the siege after so many weeks, just when I might at last be tightening the screw on Kamran?’
‘You must. My plan can’t work if you are still encamped anywhere near Kabul. Kamran must believe you’ve given up.’
‘You ask too much. For all I know you’ve already made your peace with Kamran and he’s sent you here to try and trick me.’
‘I am ready to swear on our father’s memory that this is no subterfuge. . ’ Hindal’s tawny eyes returned Humayun’s gaze unflinchingly.
‘Very well — assuming I do as you suggest, what happens then?’
‘Kamran will think he’s got the better of you. In his elation he will be all the more ready to accept my story — that since not even you have been able to overcome him, I am ready to acknowledge and serve him as our father’s true heir.’
‘You really think he will believe you?’
‘Don’t underestimate his conceit. After all, why shouldn’t he believe me? Why shouldn’t I wish to exchange the life of a renegade in the hills for a share of the reflected glory of a Moghul prince whose star is rising as yours wanes? And he will be glad of the extra men I can bring him. Then once inside the citadel I will find a way of smuggling Akbar out of Kabul. . but it will take time. Not only must I win Kamran’s trust but I must also find the right opportunity. . ’
‘What about Kamran’s mother Gulrukh? She’s as shrewd as — probably shrewder than — her son. If she is with him she won’t be easy to deceive.’