"I will attend to this at once," Nayakar said, and vowed inwardly to speak to no one but Zal Iniattir and his servants until he was once again inside Sanat Ji Mani's house. He went off through the crowded streets, looking about as he went, searching for Josha Dar and any of the other spies he was certain were following him.
Zal Iniattir came promptly to receive the message, gave Nayakar a silver coin and sent him away, saying he would call upon Sanat Ji Mani himself after evening prayers.
"I will tell him," said Nayakar, bowing over his joined hands. "He will receive you whenever it suits you." He was not quite certain this was so, but good manners encouraged such an assurance. He left the storehouse and made his way back toward the Street of Brass Lanterns, sure his progress was observed by myriad eyes. And as he walked, he became increasingly convinced that he had made a terrible mistake in not leaving Sanat Ji Mani's service while he had the chance.
* * *
Military report from Lahore, carried by special couriers, delivered in Delhi to Firuz Ihbal bin Tughluq on 2nd November, 1398 by the Roman calendar.
* * *
In the Name of Allah, the All-Compassionate, may my eyes be blinded and my tongue cut from my mouth if I report inaccurately or fabricate any events or details with the intention of misleading the officers and deputies of the Sultan— may Allah give him worthy sons and many victories— in regard to the dangers present in Lahore.
We did not take the brunt of his army, but we have been badly damaged by the efforts of his men, which I am bound to report to you, as the Sultan's men; for Timur-i is bound to the south-east, directly toward you, and it is not unlikely that you will have to fight him soon. For all the rumors that Timur-i has been cast out by his own army, or he has died, we at Lahore have no reason to think this is true. The soldiers we fought called themselves the men of Timur-i,
and those few we were able to capture screamed his name before they died.
Timur-i may say he is the follower of the Prophet, and keeps true to the Laws of Islam, but he does not conduct himself as if this is true. For one thing, when he or his men fight, they take almost no slaves: they kill all they capture unless there is some very persuasive and immediately useful reason to keep a captive alive. Many rich men of Lahore paid high sums to keep Timur-i from our city, and to the extent that the whole of his forces did not attack us, I would have to say that their efforts were successful.
Four companies of mounted men came to Lahore, each company arrayed in its own color: we could look out and see ranks of yellow, white, red, and green. So great was their discipline that the companies did not scatter in battle, but remained intact, as if they were invisibly yoked together for the assault. Were it not for the fact that these troops are our deadliest enemies, I could find it in my heart to admire their skills as soldiers. As it is, I can only condemn their dedication to war.
Their camps were impressive to see— hundreds of tents, many of them large and splendid, and a number of carts and wagons carrying such things as a farrier's smithy, a saddler's shop, and a bath-house. I have been told that the full army has much more of the same, and that it becomes a city in itself every time it stops. Yet, cumbersome as it is, this army is said to travel as far in a day as a merchant-train does, except when rough terrain slows it down.
We were able to watch their work from our walls, and hideous it was to see: they began with the people living beyond the city walls: they rounded up the farmers and camp-keepers and their families and slaves, brought them near to our Northern Gate and hacked them all to bloody scraps, which they left near the Gate, while they rode around the walls firing their arrows up at our defenses, occasionally wounding or killing one of our men. Some of the arrows dropped into the streets, and a few struck persons unlucky enough to be abroad at that time. The soldiers of Timur-i have a cry they give when fighting, and it is more terrible than the baying of wolves in the winter.
Eventually the Western Gate was set on fire with flaming arrows fired by Timur-i's soldiers, and when the fire was put out, a great
many of the mounted men poured through the opening, killing as they went. The people of the city were appalled, and many tried to flee, only to be cut down and their dismembered bodies flung onto the pile of slaughtered farmers, which was now beginning to putrefy.
The soldiers of Timur-i attacked the Southern Gate next, and very nearly had the same success as they had had on the Northern Gate, when they were summoned to their thrice-damned master's side, and abandoned their assault on the city. They took all the livestock from the farms around the city, most of it butchered before they left, and they set fire to the largest buildings.
If this was only a small part of Timur-i's army, I pray to Allah— may He Will favor to all who serve Him— that I never have to face the whole of it. May he fall in battle and be in Shaitan's talons before he can do more harm to the Sultanate. You must prepare to face the demons of perdition, for Timur-i's army is no less than that. Your army must be ready to fight off these soldiers without hope of mercy from them. Timur-i knows nothing of clemency, and cannot be bribed. Do not think that money will ransom your city: it will not. It may persuade Timur-i that you have more treasure than you have admitted, and he will sack Delhi, and pillage it, to be sure he has got the most from it before he kills your people.
This scourge is worse than any plague, for plague only kills men and animals— Timur-i Lenkh destroys all in his path, and rejoices in the ruin. If you are going to stand against him, you must use all the might of your army at its full strength, or be prepared to die under Timur-i's arrows and shimtares. Do not underestimate his ferocity, or assume that because he is an old man, he has lost his cunning or his ruthlessness.
May Allah bear witness to what I say, for on my life it is a faithful account of what I saw.
Jahsi Madur
Chief scribe to the Army of Lahore
10
"They will be here in a day or two," Zal Iniattir said to Sanat Ji Mani as they walked in the confines of the courtyard garden at the rear of the Iniattir house. "The caravan-leader who arrived today saw the dust of their travel."
"Is he sure that is what he saw?" Sanat Ji Mani asked, and went on, "I do not doubt you, or him, but dust in the air is not so remarkable—"
Zal Iniattir laughed angrily once. "This dust was; it covered half the sky, and he could hear the soldiers shouting. Roshin is not one to make fanciful tales on such matters. He knows Darkness is abroad in the land."
"Perhaps he knows it too well, and sees it where it is not," Sanat Ji Mani suggested, all the while keenly aware that if Timur-i did not come this month, he would arrive the next; he knew also that he had waited too long to leave.
"Not he. Perhaps another might, but not Roshin. He is a steady man, pragmatic." Zal Iniattir looked over his shoulder. "I think it is time I took my family out of here, at least until the rains come again. I will be ready to leave in two days."
"It is probably a wise thing to do," said Sanat Ji Mani, chiding himself silently for his own laxness. "Have you decided where you will go yet?"
"I have spoken with Askari Daitya, who is prepared to lead another caravan to Sirpur, if he can accommodate me and my family in the doing of it. I have said I will pay him twice his usual fee for escorting us to Sirpur. My cousin Azizi Iniattir is there and he will receive us, I am sure of it." Zal Iniattir shook his head vehemently, as if in response to a challenge. "I am not betraying my vow to my uncle. He did not ask that we remain as sacrifices."
"No, he did not," Sanat Ji Mani agreed. "And Sirpur is a long way from Delhi."
"Yes. It is," Zal Iniattir admitted. "I would like to believe that Rustam Iniattir would approve of my decision. Askari Daitya does."
"That is something worthwhile," Sanat Ji Mani agreed.
"I mention this because you may want to come with us," Zal Iniattir went on. "I have spoken to Askari Daitya about including you, and one or two servants, and he has said, so long as you provide your own animals and provisions, he would accept your company for the same price as I am paying him."
Sanat Ji Mani touched his hands together and bowed. "I am touched by your kindness, Zal Iniattir, and I will consider your offer. I have already made a petition to the magistrates to leave Delhi after the Winter Solstice, but I may be able to persuade them to allow me to go before that, if I provide incentive enough."
"In gold?" Zal Iniattir asked.
"Or jewels," said Sanat Ji Mani.
"Yes, they might make such an allowance," said Zal Iniattir, "if you paid them enough."
"So I think," Sanat Ji Mani agreed. "They will expect a good sum for granting my request." He had already paid a hefty amount to file the petition, but he was willing to double it if he could secure the necessary permissions to leave in order to keep title on his property in Delhi and to protect the two servants still under his roof: Bohdil and Shudra. He was well-aware that if he departed without permission of the authorities, his lands, house, goods, stock, and servants would be seized by the Sultan's ministers in lieu of the taxes— some invented on the spot— he would have levied against him.
"It is a bargain, whatever they may ask," said Zal Iniattir with feeling. "My uncle would advise you to make all arrangements as quickly as possible, I know. You have protected him: now let him protect you."
"You are very generous," said Sanat Ji Mani. "And I am grateful to you. I will see what can be done with the magistrates."
"So many are leaving every day that I cannot think of any reason they should require you to remain," said Zal Iniattir, doing his best to be encouraging. "You have never argued with them on any point they made before now. Why should you begin?"
"They may not see it that way," said Sanat Ji Mani, a touch of irony in his voice.
"Why should they not?" Zal Iniattir asked, and then answered his own question. "Of course. You have paid them much money, and they would like more of it. You have given gold and supplies to the army, as well, and Firuz Ihbal bin Tughluq wants as much as he can demand of you."
"It is something that touches you as well," said Sanat Ji Mani.
"So it does," Zal Iniattir said. "That is why I am going day after tomorrow. Send me word by sunset tomorrow and I will make whatever arrangements you like." He bowed slightly. "You have been most kind to us, and whatever your decision, the House of Iniattir is in your debt."
"Not by my reckoning," said Sanat Ji Mani, who was suspicious of gratitude, knowing how quickly it could turn to resentment.
"You say so, but my uncle has commanded me otherwise," said Zal Iniattir. "I will not linger, for I have much to do. But tell me that you will be ready to leave and I will send my slaves to bring your chests and cases to the caravan."
"You are most kind," Sanat Ji Mani said, making a formal European bow. "I will send you word as soon as possible."
"I will await it eagerly," Zal Iniattir said, and prepared to show his guest to the door.
Sanat Ji Mani paused to look about the garden one last time. "It is very pleasant here."
"That it is," Zal Iniattir said. "I will miss it."
"I can see why," said Sanat Ji Mani. He had reached the gate. "Whether or not I go with you, I wish you a safe journey and a prosperous return."
"I will hope there is something to return
to
," said Zal Iniattir. "May your gods protect you." The two bowed again, and Zal Iniattir let Sanat Ji Mani out of the gate.
There were many people in the streets, most of them in a hurry, all of them evincing the kind of restlessness that was not far from panic. Even a few women were about, none of them Islamic, all trying to find a haven from dread and Timur-i.
At his house, Sanat Ji Mani was met by Bohdil, who gave the most cursory of greetings before saying, "The Sultan's deputies have taken all but two of your horses. They say it is for the army, and they may
take one more." He was clearly upset by this development, but did his best not to make a greater issue than necessary of the event. "They are taking horses from everyone, and asses. They want mounts for as many of their soldiers as possible."
"If they are facing Timur-i, I can see why they might," said Sanat Ji Mani. "Did they take tack as well?"
"Yes. Bridles and saddles and pads and halters," said Bohdil. "one of the men wanted to take your forge, but could not find a way to lift it. They may send others to claim it."
"They must be more desperate than I thought," said Sanat Ji Mani quietly. He pondered briefly, then looked up. "Have you somewhere to go beyond Delhi— to the east, not the west?"
Bohdil looked at his master uneasily. "Yes. I have cousins in Kol."
"Good," said Sanat Ji Mani. "I want you and Shudra to take the two remaining horses and leave at once. Go to Kol and wait there until I send word for you to return."
