‘Majesty?’
He had forgotten the khawajasara was still there. ‘You are dismissed. Come to me again next month when — God willing — you may bring better news.’
Akbar sat alone for a while. Outside the sky was fresh and clear. The rains were over and he should have been out hunting or hawking. Why did thoughts of Hirabai preoccupy him? It wasn’t love, but perhaps it was pride. . All the court must know things were amiss between the emperor and his bride. They never ate or spent time together except for his nocturnal visits to her bed. Even then, as soon as he was finished he returned to his own apartments. He had never woken in her arms as the pale dawn light came slanting in.
Perhaps his mother would have some words of wisdom — or at least of comfort. Till now he had hesitated to confide in her, hoping each month to hear that Hirabai was pregnant. But time was passing. He was being distracted from the matters that should be occupying his mind, and — if the stories the elderly Jauhar had told him were true — something yet more pernicious was gathering momentum. Bhagwan Das had been right to predict that Akbar’s marriage to a non-Muslim would be criticised. The mullahs were whispering that Akbar’s childless state was a punishment for marrying an infidel Hindu.
Hamida was reading, but seeing Akbar she put her book of poetry down. ‘What is it? You look troubled.’
‘The khawajasara has just made her report to me.’
‘And?’
‘Hirabai has still not conceived.’
‘You must be patient. Remember you have only been married six months.’
‘That’s what I tell myself. But how much longer will I have to wait?’
‘You are a young man. You will take other wives. There will be children — sons — even if they are not Hirabai’s.’
‘It’s not just a matter of my own impatience. Jauhar came to me two weeks ago. Since I made him my vizier he is even better informed about what is being said around the court.’
‘Court gossip doesn’t matter.’
‘This does. Some of the senior clerics — the ulama — are claiming that Hirabai will never bear a child. They say it’s God’s judgement on me for my crime against Islam in marrying an unbeliever.’
‘You rule the empire, not the ulama.’
‘I’m not afraid of them or of their narrow prejudices. At first, I admit, I did wonder whether there was anything in their words, but the more I thought about it the more impossible I found it to believe that a merciful, compassionate God would reject people simply because they hold different beliefs. But some of my subjects may begin to heed their arguments, however absurd. This could sow hatred and division. The ulama know perfectly well why I married a Hindu — not only to strengthen a military alliance but to show that all can prosper under the Moghuls regardless of religion. .’
‘You are wise,’ Hamida said. ‘You see potential dangers early.’
‘That’s what my father encouraged me to do. He said he hadn’t understood the threat his half-brothers posed until it was nearly too late.’
‘That is true. It almost cost us our lives.’
‘I mustn’t make the same mistake, even though the dangers I face are different.’
‘Tell me about Hirabai. I know you are unhappy. . forgive me, but I hear things, and so does Gulbadan. Does Hirabai not please you?’
‘She hates me.’
‘Why should she?’
‘She blames me for executing Rajput officers at Chittorgarh and for razing the fortress. . she thinks of me as the destroyer of her people.’
‘How can she, when her own brother is glad to call himself your ally?’
Akbar shrugged. ‘I think she despises him for it. . but she won’t discuss her feelings.’
‘Are you sure you understand her properly? Perhaps she finds our court alien and is homesick for Rajasthan. In time she may change.’
‘I do understand her, Mother. On our wedding night she tried to stab me.’ Akbar had not meant to say it but the words were out before he could stop them.
‘She did what?’ Any sympathy for her daughter-in-law vanished from Hamida’s face and her eyes flashed. ‘Then you should have had her executed, just as your father should have killed his brothers when they first rebelled. . You said you had learned from his mistakes, yet you lie with a woman who wishes you dead. I don’t understand.’
‘I knew you wouldn’t. That was why I didn’t tell you. I have kept Hirabai as my wife because of what it symbolises to my people. The alliance has pleased the Rajputs. Had I rejected or executed her how could our alliance have held? And Hirabai’s freedom to worship her gods is living proof that my Hindu subjects have nothing to fear from me. The wider world knows nothing of our lives at court. They see simply that the Moghul emperor has taken a royal Hindu bride and they rejoice.’
Hamida was silent, her fine brow wrinkled in thought. ‘Perhaps you are right,’ she said at last. ‘Shock and maternal anger made me speak as I did. I will reveal to no one — not even Gulbadan — what you have just told me, but my attendants will watch Hirabai and make sure that she is doing nothing to prevent or to end a pregnancy. Many such tricks are known in the haram — potions of bitter herbs, sponges soaked in vinegar and pushed deep inside before intercourse, even twigs wrapped in sheep’s wool and inserted afterwards to scour the womb — and the Rajput women too may have their methods.’
‘She is already watched. The khawajasara, observing through her jali screen, records our couplings and is looking for signs of anything untoward. . I only hope it isn’t hatred that prevents Hirabai from conceiving. She is strong-willed and the mind can rule the body. Sometimes I worry that even if she did bear me a child such a birth could not be auspicious.’
‘That is foolish, Akbar. And who knows. . Hirabai is very young. With a child she may change. .’
‘She’s not as young as you were when you married my father.’
‘I was lucky. Your father chose me out of love and I loved him. Also, I was only the daughter of a nobleman. I wasn’t royal like Hirabai with all the weight of an ancient lineage on my shoulders. Things were perhaps simpler for your father and me.’
‘Even though you endured so much hardship and danger?’
‘Perhaps because of it, who knows?’ For the first time since he had told her of Hirabai’s hatred of him, Hamida’s face softened. She was thinking of Humayun, he was sure. Would he ever feel for a woman the kind of love that had existed between his parents?
‘Akbar, perhaps I can help you. Gulbadan has told me of a Sufi mystic, Shaikh Salim Chishti. She has visited him and says that, just as my own grandfather did, he has the power to see into the future. . Perhaps he can tell you something to ease your mind.’
‘Where does this Sufi live?’
‘In Sikri, not far from here.’
‘I know it. I stopped there once to drink from a well while out hunting.’
‘Perhaps I am wrong to suggest it. Your father in his youth became so preoccupied with what the stars could tell him about the future that he failed to see the dangers lurking around him. Sometimes it is better not to know what the future holds.’
‘No, I want to know. Then I can plan for it.’