Read Online Empire of the Moghul: Ruler of the World by Alex Rutherford - Free Book Online

her as well as Bairam Khan that he had come of age, that he could think and act for himself.
    ‘Maham Anga, be my scribe and write to Bairam Khan just as you said. But be sure to add also that I will always honour him . . . that he has been like a father to me.’
    ‘Of course.’ Akbar watched Maham Anga go to a low, brass-inlaid rosewood table on which stood a jade inkpot and a quill and sit down cross-legged before it. Within moments, candlelight flickering over her strong, handsome features, she was penning the letter he hoped would set him free. He knew he could trust her to get the words right.

Chapter 4
A Gift of Concubines
    ‘H ow could you have been so unthinking and ungrateful towards Bairam Khan!’ Hamida seized Akbar by the shoulders. ‘Who put you up to this?’
    ‘No one.’ He had no intention of revealing Maham Anga’s role. She had only had his interests at heart, and anyway it had been his decision and his alone. For a moment Akbar thought Hamida was going to slap his face. Never had he seen her so angry.
    ‘You couldn’t even wait to tell him on his return from Delhi, which wouldn’t have been long. Worse, you didn’t have the courage to tell me but went off hunting and left me to find out from a letter from Bairam Khan himself!’
    Akbar flushed at the truth of her words. Immediately after affixing his seal to the letter and despatching his messenger to Delhi he had set off on a four-day tiger-hunting expedition. If he was honest, his decision had had far more to do with his reluctance to face his mother than any desire for the thrill of the sport. He had been intending to tell her immediately on his return . . . had even practised the words in his head. But it seemed he had miscalculated the speed with which a messenger could travel between Agra and Delhi. Hamida had been waiting for him in his apartments.
    ‘What did Bairam Khan write?’
    ‘That without warning or explanation you had ordered him onthe
haj
and that he regretted he had been unable to say farewell in person. I immediately wrote urging him to return to court. My messenger reached him while he was still only a few days’ ride beyond Delhi. This was his reply, listen.’ Voice shaking with emotion, she read: ‘“You are very gracious, Majesty, to ask me to return but I cannot. Your son, the emperor, has seen fit to order me on the
haj
. Just as I was ever loyal to your husband, who saved my life in battle, so I must be to your son. May God bless your house and may it rise to yet greater glory in Hindustan.” Bairam Khan was the best friend, the best adviser you had, Akbar. Instead of being grateful, you have rejected and insulted him, unceremoniously dismissing him as if he were a negligent groom.’
    ‘I will always be grateful to him, but he doesn’t understand that I am ready to rule – and nor do you. When he returns he will see how well I have succeeded and I will give him an honourable place at my court.’ Akbar spoke firmly, even though his own doubts – unexpressed to anyone – about the dimissal of Bairam Khan and the way he had done it were welling inside him, however much he tried to ignore them. Had he been wrong? Perhaps for the first time in his life he began to query one of his decisions as his mother continued to rebuke him.
    ‘You have so much to learn. What makes you think a proud man like Bairam Khan would risk further humiliation at your hands? He will not return to us, and that will be your loss.’
    But even while Hamida was still speaking, Akbar saw Maham Anga’s face before him. She was one of his most trusted confidants, and she had agreed with Bairam Khan’s dismissal . . . He must not allow his mother to weaken his resolve. If he recalled Bairam Khan he would find it even more difficult ever to assume imperial power. Besides, vacillating and showing weakness was not the way to impress – or to control – his nobles.
    He looked away. Hamida hesitated a moment. ‘You fool,’ she whispered