Read Online Empire of the Moghul: The Serpent's Tooth by Alex Rutherford - Free Book Online Page A

‘Help me out.’ Standing before him she took his face between her hands and kissed his forehead. ‘The present is as it is. Again I made my choice, and again it was to be with you. As for the past, we survived it together. It is over, as I’ve told you so many times. Why keep tormenting yourself with unrectifiable regrets?’
    ‘You’re right. I must look ahead, but some things are hard to forget. By defeating my enemies quickly I can do what is best for those I love and win my subjects’ respect for me as their new emperor.’
    ‘You already have it. Your father himself gave you the title “Shah Jahan”, “Lord of the World”, and time and time again you proved your worthiness of it.’
    ‘That was a long time ago. Much has happened since then and my people don’t yet know me.’
    ‘You are as stubborn as our son Aurangzeb. Go if you must. But promise me one thing, at least – that before charging headlong into battle you will think what may be in your enemy’s mind … Others can be as clever and cunning as you. Each time I bid you farewell I need to believe you will come back to me.’
    ‘I promise to take care.’ He saw that Mumtaz was shivering despite the warm air. ‘You should put on dry clothes – I will summon your attendants.’
    He was about to ring the silver bell hanging from a green silk cord when Jahanara appeared through the cusped doorway, breathing hard as if she’d run quickly. ‘It’s Dara … a rider has just brought the news … He’ll be here tomorrow.’
    ‘You’re sure? He wasn’t due to reach Burhanpur for another two weeks,’ Shah Jahan said.
    ‘The messenger says Dara has been insisting on riding all day and much of the night.’
    Shah Jahan glanced at Mumtaz, whose face was glowing at the thought of seeing their son after so many months. ‘I’ll send troops at once to meet the party.’
    ‘Let Aurangzeb go with them so he can share in the glory of his brother’s return,’ Mumtaz said. ‘Young as he is, I know how much he envied Dara the opportunity of going to the Persian court.’
    Shah Jahan considered for a moment. ‘If we were at peace I’d agree, but the Bijapurans are impudent enough for anything. I’m not sending an escort for show but to ensure Dara and the rest of embassy reach Burhanpur safely. I think it best that Aurangzeb remains here.’

    Seated on his throne on the sandstone platform in the middle of the courtyard of the Burhanpur fort, Shah Jahan waited, hiding his impatience. There were few times when he wished himself an ordinary family man, free to behave as he pleased, but this was one of them. The neighing of horses and the clatter of hooves on flagstones from beyond the arched gateway had told him that Tuhin Roy, his envoy, and his party had arrived. He found it hard not to rush to greet his son but protocol demanded a formal ceremony. That was why his courtiers and commanders were standing in rows before him, while on a low dais to his right his three younger sons waited, dressed in brocade coats of Moghul green with ropes of pearls round their necks.
    Thirteen-year-old Shah Shuja was looking around grinning but the stockier, square-jawed Aurangzeb, two years his junior, was solemn-faced. Soon he must find suitable tasks for them both, just as he had for Dara. An imperial prince’s training couldn’t begin too early. Shah Shuja needed to learn that life was about more than hunting and hawking and Aurangzeb to appreciate that the exercise of power might not be as easy as he sometimes seemed to think from his reading about his ancestors. At least it would be some years before he need worry about the six-year-old Murad, who was trying without success to attract Shah Shuja’s attention by tugging on his sash.
    The trumpets sounded and, as precedence required, Tuhin Roy as the head of the embassy appeared first through the gateway. Elderly but still upright, his beard dyed black, he approached with slow, stately steps and bowed low