Empire of the Moghul: Brothers at War (58 page)

Then Humayun saw Bairam Khan gesturing to a detachment of his men previously held in reserve. They galloped to the area of the barricades where Mustapha Ergun and his troops had made a breach and swiftly followed them into the enemy camp. Once inside, they began attacking their opponents’ positions from the rear. For several minutes the horsemen, locked in combat, swayed back and forth, but slowly Humayun’s men were beginning to seize the upper hand as more and more reinforcements poured over the barricades despite suffering continuing casualties from Sekunder Shah’s resolute musketeers. Inch by inch the defenders were being herded into a small portion of their original position. Suddenly a group of Sekunder Shah’s horsemen broke out from the mass of their closely packed comrades and fought their way to a gap in the barricades before beginning to gallop determinedly in the direction in which Sekunder Shah’s main army lay.

‘We must stop them,’ shouted Humayun. ‘Follow me!’

Head bent low over his horse’s neck and with Akbar at his side, Humayun galloped after the riders. Led by a thick-set officer wearing a steel breastplate, they were maintaining cohesion and formation, seemingly bent on alerting Sekunder Shah as soon as possible to the fate of their comrades rather than on simply preserving their lives.

Slowly Humayun and his men gained on the group.When they were within arrow shot, Humayun grabbed his bow and quiver from his back. Standing in his stirrups with his reins clenched in his teeth he fired at the officer. He missed by inches, his arrow embedding itself in the man’s saddle. However, before he could fit another arrow to his string, the officer slid from his horse, an arrow in his neck. His foot caught in his stirrup and he was dragged for a while – head bumping along the stony ground – behind his frightened, galloping mount before the stirrup broke. Then he rolled over twice and lay still. Humayun realised it was Akbar who had fired the fatal arrow. Others of Sekunder Shah’s men had also fallen from their horses.

‘Well done!’ Humayun shouted to his son, ‘but stay back now.’

Humayun kicked his horse into a gallop once more and headed after the remaining dozen or so riders. Soon he was up with the hindmost of them, who was desperately urging his sweat-soaked, blowing pony onwards. Seeing Humayun he half raised his round shield but he was too late. Humayun’s sharp sword caught him across the back of his neck beneath his helmet. His blood gushed crimson and he crashed to the hard ground.

Humayun did not look back but galloped after the only one of the riders who had not been overtaken and engaged by one of his men and was still in the saddle riding hard. He was a fine, fluid rider mounted on a speedy black horse whose hooves kicked up pebbles as they pounded the ground. It was all Humayun could do to gain on him even though his horse was fresher. Finally Humayun and three of his bodyguard drew alongside the rider, who aimed a stroke with his scimitar at one of the bodyguards. The man managed to get his arm up to protect his head but received a deep wound to his forearm and fell back from the fight. However, in striking at the bodyguard the horseman exposed himself to a thrust from Humayun which penetrated his thigh and he too fell, leaving his horse to gallop off alone.

Reining in his own horse and turning in his saddle, Humayun saw that all the break-out party were accounted for, and most important of all Akbar was safe. As they rode back towards the main battle around the village, Humayun could see that in most places the combat was over. There was still some fighting going on around a group of mud huts. The thatched roof of one was burning, perhaps set ablaze by a spark from a musket or cannon or perhaps ignited deliberately by his men to flush out their opponents. However, as he came closer Humayun saw that this fight too had ceased and the remaining defenders had thrown down their arms.

Four hours later, dark, almost purple clouds were filling the sky and a hot breeze had sprung up – the monsoon would start any day soon, thought Humayun, perhaps even this very afternoon. Turning to Akbar, who was standing by his side beneath the awning of his scarlet command tent, he put his arm round his son’s shoulders. ‘I’ve always prided myself on my skill as an archer, but your shot that brought down the officer was exceptional.’

‘Thank you, but it was probably a fluke.’

‘I think not – I’ve seen you practise . . . ’ Humayun paused and squeezed his son’s shoulder. ‘Good shot as it was and glad as I was that you made it, I should have ordered you not to accompany me when I chased after those riders. Lucky arrow shots might have killed us both, destroying my hopes for our family’s destiny as well as causing your mother immense grief. In future we must remain separated on the battlefield, and I am afraid you must stay in the rear.’

‘But Father . . . ’ Akbar began, then let his words trail away as he saw the determination in his father’s eyes and realised the logic in his words.

‘Enough of this. Here come our officers, led by Bairam Khan, to discuss our next move.’ Humayun turned back into the tent where cushions had been placed in a semicircle round his throne for his commanders and a gilded stool had been set up for Akbar immediately to the right of his place. Once they were all assembled, Humayun asked,‘What were our casualties?’

‘Two hundred men killed, at least, and over six hundred injured, many badly, including several of Mustapha Ergun’s Turks who first got behind the barricades.’

‘Mustapha Ergun and his men did well. When we divide the booty we must double their share, but before we can allocate rewards we must know the extent of our capture.’

‘Two large chests of gold coin,’ said Bairam Khan, ‘and five of silver designed to pay Sekunder Shah’s troops. Their loss will disappoint his men and may affect their commitment to his cause.’

‘We can only hope it does. What military equipment did we acquire?’

‘Two bullock carts loaded with wooden cases of new muskets and their powder and bullets. Two new medium-sized bronze cannon and ten smaller ones. Sekunder Shah’s men managed to destroy six more by exploding excess powder in their barrels. There are also boxes of swords and battleaxes as well as three thousand five hundred horses and some oxen and other pack animals. All in all, a welcome and substantial contribution to our supplies and an equally substantial loss for Sekunder Shah.’

‘How many of his men did we capture?’

‘About four thousand. The rest were killed. What should we do with the prisoners, Majesty?’

‘Hold them for forty-eight hours then allow any who are prepared to swear on the Holy Book that they will fight no more to depart south on foot without their weapons. Now let us turn to planning our final victory over Sekunder Shah. What do you think our next move should be, Zahid Beg?’

‘The monsoon is imminent. We cannot campaign satisfactorily during it – our baggage trains and artillery will scarcely be able to move. We should encamp while sending scouts south to keep the main routes between Sekunder Shah and Delhi under observation, and then when the monsoon ceases .. .’

‘No,’ Humayun interrupted, ‘I will not let the monsoon stop us. That is what Sekunder Shah will expect. The prize of the throne of Hindustan is too great. It has been lost to me too long. Now is no time to hold back. If we press on to attack him at once we will have the advantage of surprise. Too often in the past I’ve delayed and lost the initiative. It will not be so this time. Ahmed Khan, how far away is Sekunder Shah’s main force? How many days’ march will it take us to come up with them?’

‘They are still encamped at Sirhind on the Sutlej, about a hundred miles east of here, perhaps ten days’ march for the army with its baggage. Our spies report they seem to be well established there and preparing to see out the monsoon in comfort before making their next move.’

‘Well, they’re in for a shock.’

F
at drops of rain were splashing from a leaden sky into the large puddles of water that had already formed outside Humayun’s scarlet command tent. As he looked out from beneath its dripping awning while he waited for his commanders to join him for a council of war, he could see that the puddles had already coalesced to form pools in some of the lower-lying and muddier parts of his camp. The water rose over the feet of his soldiers who, heads hunched into their shoulders against the downpour, splashed their way to and from picket duty. In whatever direction he looked there was no sign of a break in the weather.

Humayun turned back into his tent, where his officers were now assembled in a semicircle, some of them still shaking from their clothes the rain which had soaked them as they ran the short distance from their own tents across to his. Humayun took his place in the centre with the young Akbar at his side.

‘Ahmed Khan, what are the latest reports of Sekunder Shah’s army?’

‘He remains six miles away behind his fortified positions at Sirhind, just as he did for the fortnight we were making our way towards him before we set up camp here. We know from the number of his scouts that we’ve encountered or captured that he has long been aware of our approach, yet he has made no move to confront us. No doubt he still believes that we will not attack him during the monsoon for fear of being slowed down by all the mud and made into easy targets for his well dug-in cannon and for his archers and musketeers.’

‘I have delayed our assault for this last week to encourage Sekunder Shah in that false belief, attempting to convince him that we will be as cautious and conventional in our thinking as he is and that – having come up to his position – we will postpone any combat until the rains have abated and the ground has begun to dry.’

‘But doesn’t he have a point, Majesty?’ asked Zahid Beg, a deeply concerned expression on his thin face. ‘We cannot move our cannon at any speed and the powder for our muskets is always getting damp. There have been several accidents when our men have rashly brought it too close to fires in an attempt to dry it out.’

‘Of course we will face some problems when we attack,’ said Humayun, ‘but these will be mere inconveniences compared to the benefits surprise will secure us.’

Bairam Khan was nodding but some others still looked doubtful. Suddenly, Akbar, who usually listened attentively but rarely spoke, rose from the place where he had been sitting and said in a steady, firm voice, ‘I believe you are right, Father. Now is the time to seize our destiny and surprise Sekunder Shah before he succeeds in raising more troops. He has a far greater reservoir to draw on than we.’

‘Well spoken, Akbar,’ Humayun said. ‘I will have Ahmed Khan send scouts to test out the firmest approach route to Sekunder Shah’s camp. It would seem to lie over that slightly higher ground northeast of here. If we go in that direction we may have to ride a mile or so further but it will be worth it. We will not attempt to move our cannon forward but will take some mounted musketeers. Even if only some of their muskets fire because of the damp it will help.’

‘But if we follow that route we will be seen and it will give Sekunder Shah longer to prepare,’ interrupted Nadim Khwaja.

‘I’ve thought of that.To add to the surprise and to conceal our movements, I intend to attack under cover of darkness in the hour before dawn tomorrow. We will make our preparations as inconspicuously as we can today and will rouse our troops at three in the morning to begin our advance an hour later. We’ll move in separate divisions of five hundred men, each identified by a brightly coloured cloth tied around the arm to reduce the chances of confusion in the dark.’

‘Majesty,’ said Bairam Khan, ‘I understand your plan. I believe our men will be disciplined enough to carry it out, trusting as they do in their leaders.’

‘I intend to go amongst the troops towards dusk with Akbar to encourage our soldiers and tell them of our plan and of my faith in it – and in them – to see it through.’

The rain had slackened a little during the day but more dark clouds were gathering on the horizon as, with Akbar, Ahmed Khan and Bairam Khan at his side, Humayun rode up to the cluster of tents occupied by some of Bairam Khan’s cavalry – mostly men from Badakhshan. Humayun had decided to keep his address to this group to the last. He dismounted from his tall black horse and, as the men gathered around, began.

‘Your fathers served my father well as he won an empire. You have served me well in this campaign to win back the lands clawed away by greedy usurpers. Tomorrow you will join me in the vanguard. Together we will face our greatest battle so far. When we conquer, as I know we will, we will regain Hindustan and secure its rich lands for our sons.’

Humayun paused to put his arm around Akbar’s shoulders before continuing. ‘I know that your sons – like young Akbar here – will be worthy of the legacy we will win for them. Remember that tomorrow we fight for their future as well as our own. Let us seize our destiny. Let us show such valour and gain such a victory that our grandsons and their children will still talk with awe and gratitude of our deeds, just as we recall the fabled feats of Timur and his men.’

As Humayun finished a burst of cheering rose from the Badakhshanis. His words had hit home, just as they had with all the other men he had spoken to on his tour of the camp.