The Moghul

the city from the north. Their women now swarmed over the bazaar, accumulating stores for the march south. Bullock carts of fresh produce glutted the roads leading into the city, for word had reached the surrounding villages that Burhanpur was host to the retinue of the prince and his soldiers from the north—buyers accustomed to high northern prices. The villagers also knew from long experience that a wise man would strip his fields and gardens and orchards now and sell, before an army on the march simply took what it wanted.
    Rumors had already reached the city that the army of Malik Ambar, Abyssinian leader of the Deccanis, was marching north toward Burhanpur with eighty thousand infantry and horsemen. An advance contingent was already encamped no more than ten kos south of the city.
    Jadar inspected the reception room until he was certain it was secure, with every doorway under command of his men. Then he signaled the leader of the Rajput guard, who relayed a message to a courier waiting outside. Finally he settled himself against an immense velvet bolster, relishing this moment of quiet to clear his mind.
    The Deccan, the central plains of India. Will they ever be ours? How many more campaigns must there be?
    He recalled with chagrin all the humiliations dealt Arangbar by the Deccanis.
    When Arangbar took the throne at Akman's death, he had announced he would continue his father's policy of military control of the Deccan. A general named Ghulam Adl had requested, and received, confirmation of his existing post of Khan Khanan, "Khan of Khans," the supreme commander of the Moghul armies in the south. To subdue the Deccan once and for all, Arangbar had sent an additional twelve thousand cavalry south and had given Ghulam Adl a million rupees to refurbish his army. But in spite of these forces, the Abyssinian Malik Ambar soon had set up a rebel capital at Ahmadnagar and declared himself prime minister.
    In disgust Arangbar had taken the command from Ghulam Adl and given it to his own son, the second oldest, Parwaz. This dissolute prince marched south with great pomp. Once there he set up an extravagant military headquarters, a royal court in miniature, and spent several years drinking and bragging of his inevitable victory. Ghulam Adl had watched this with growing resentment, and finally he succumbed to bribes by Malik Ambar and retreated with his own army.
    In anger Arangbar then appointed two other generals to march on the Deccan, one from the north and one from the West, hoping to trap Malik Ambar in a pincer. But the Abyssinian deftly kept them apart, and badly defeated each in turn. Eventually both were driven back to the north, with heavy losses.
    This time, on the advice of Queen Janahara, Arangbar transferred his son Parwaz out of the Deccan, to Allahbad, and in his place sent Prince Jadar. The younger prince had marched on the Deccan with forty thousand additional troops to supplement the existing forces.
    When Jadar and his massive army reached Burhanpur, Malik Ambar wisely proposed a truce and negotiations. He returned the fort at Ahmadnagar to the Moghul and withdrew his troops. Arangbar was jubilant and rewarded Jadar with sixteen lakhs of rupees and a prize diamond. Triumphant, Jadar had returned to Agra and begun to think of becoming the next Moghul. That had been three long years ago.
    But Malik Ambar had the cunning of a jackal, and his "surrender" had been merely a ruse to remove the Moghul troops again to the north. This year he had waited for the monsoon, when conventional armies could not move rapidly, and again risen in rebellion, easily driving Ghulam Adl's army north from Ahmadnagar, reclaiming the city, and laying siege to its Moghul garrison. The despairing Arangbar again appealed to Jadar to lead troops south to relieve the permanent forces of Ghulam Adl. After demanding and receiving a substantial increase in mansab rank and personal cavalry, Jadar had agreed.
    The wide wooden door of the reception hall opened and Ghulam Adl strode regally into the room, wearing a gold- braided turban with a feather and a great sword at his belt. His beard was longer than Jadar had remembered, and now it had been reddened with henna—perhaps, Jadar thought, to hide the gray. But his deep-set eyes were still haughty and self-assured, and his swagger seemed to belie reports he had barely escaped with his life from the besieged fortress at Ahmadnagar only five weeks before.
    Ghulam Adl's gaze quickly swept