The Moghul

just begun." Shirin took his hand for no reason at all and gripped it. "And their major advantage was not elephants, but numbers. I fear for him. Look, there." She pointed toward the east, where the red sky now illuminated a vast sea of infantry, poised as reinforcements. "The prince's Rajputs cannot stop them all. Prince Jadar does not have the forces to meet them. I think he will be defeated today, badly."
    "And if he dies, do we die with him?"
    "Perhaps not you. But they will surely kill me. And probably Mumtaz. Most certainly they have orders to kill his son."
    On the field below Jadar's cavalry fought as though possessed. Rajputs with one, two, even three arrows in their back continued to sound their war cry and take head after bearded head, until they finally slumped unconscious from the saddle. Riderless horses, many with their stomachs slashed open, could be seen running wildly through the Imperial ranks, unused arrows still rattling in their saddle quivers.
    Waves of Jadar's infantry had begun pouring down from the hills, following the cavalry. The men wore heavy leather helmets and a skirt of woven steel. A hood of steel netting hung down from each man's helmet, protecting his face and neck. They advanced firing volley after volley of arrows into the Imperial infantry. When they reached the plain, they drew their long curved swords and, waving them above their heads, threw themselves into the forces of Inayat Latif. The field quickly became a vast arena of hand-to-hand combat, as inevitably happened when two Indian armies met, with Jadar's forces badly outnumbered.
    Shirin watched the slaughter in silence for a time, as though tallying the dead and dying on both sides, and then she turned her face away.
    "Allah preserve us. Prince Jadar's Rajputs have eaten so much affion I think they can fight even after they die, but their numbers are already shrinking. How long can they protect the prince?"
    "Where's he now?"
    She turned back and peered through the dust on the field for a long moment. Then she pointed. "He's on the field now. There, in the center. Do you see him?" She paused. "He's very courageous to take the field so early. It will inspire his men, but it's a very bad omen."
    Hawksworth squinted toward the east. He could barely make out a phalanx of elephants moving across the plains, into the middle of the fiercest fighting. Several of the elephants had clusters of two-pound swivel guns mounted on their backs, a few had rocket launchers, but most carried howdahs filled with Rajput archers. In the center moved a large black elephant, heavily armored and bearing a steel howdah decorated with ornate gilding. Standing erect in the howdah, beneath a huge embroidered umbrella, was the figure of Prince Jadar, loosing arrows in rhythmic succession as the Imperial infantry closed around him.
    "Why is it a bad sign?"
    "It's unwise for the supreme commander of an army to expose himself so early in the battle." Shirin was watching Jadar, transfixed. "If he's killed, the battle will be over. All his troops will flee."
    "Even his fearless Rajputs?"
    "That's the way in India. If he's lost, what do they have left to fight for? They will melt into the forest. In India a commander must always be visible to his men, standing above the armor of his howdah, so they'll know for certain he's alive."
    As the circle of elephants surrounding Jadar advanced through the field, a triple line of his Rajput infantry moved into place around him. He quickly became the focus of the battle, and the Imperial infantry massed to encircle him, like the king in a game of chess. His protective buffer of elephants was coming under increasingly heavy attack. The advantage of surprise enjoyed by his original offensive was gone. Now he was clearly on the defensive.
    "I think Jadar's starting to be in serious trouble. You were right. I don't know how much longer his circle of elephants can protect him."
    In the silence he slowly turned to Shirin and their eyes met. Nothing more was said because no more words were needed. She reached out and touched his lips and a lifetime seemed to flow between them. Then he drew his sword and leaned over the edge of the howdah.
    "Yes."
    With a single stroke he severed the tether rope tying their elephant. Their startled mahout turned and stared in disbelief. When Hawksworth shouted at him to start, he hesitated for a moment, then flung his barbed iron ankus into their howdah and plunged for the grass.
    Hawksworth