The Moghul, page 54
Brian Hawksworth's lean frame towered above the crowd, conspicuous injerkin and seaboots. He had heard the rumor and he had come to theplaza to watch, mingling among the turbaned assembly of nobles,shopkeepers, mullahs, and assorted street touts. His presence wasimmediately noted by all, especially the crippled beggars in dirtybrown _dhotis_, who dragged themselves through the crowd, theirleprosy-withered hands upturned, calling for a _pice_ in the name ofAllah. They knew from experience that, however ragged a _feringhi_might appear, he was always more likely to be moved by their plightthan a wealthy Indian merchant.
The plaza was a confined area between the steep eastern side of the RedFort and the outer wall of the fortress. Beyond the fortress wall laythe wide Jamuna River, while high above, and with a commanding view ofthe plaza, sat Arangbar, watching from the black throne at the outeredge of the _Diwan-i-Khas_. Next to him sat Queen Janahara andAllaudin. The day was Tuesday and the sun was approaching midday. AsHawksworth pushed his way to the front of the crowd, the last elephantfight of the morning had just begun.
Two First-ranked bull elephants were locked head to head in the dustysquare. Their blunted tusks were wreathed with brass rings, and theback of each was covered with a brocaded canvas on which sat tworiders. Perched on each animal's neck and directing it was its mahout,and on its rump sat its Second-ranked keeper, whose assignment was tourge the animal to greater frenzy.
The dusty air was alive with a festive clanging from large bellsattached to each elephant's harness. Hawksworth noticed that a longchain, called the _lor langar_, was secured to the left foreleg of eachelephant and circled over its back, where it was attached to a heavylog held by the second rider. Both elephants also had other keepers whoran alongside holding long poles, at the end of which was crossed afoot- long piece of paper-covered bamboo. Nearby another keeper stoodholding a smoldering taper.
Hawksworth watched in awe as the elephants backed away and lungedtogether again and again, tusk resounding against tusk, often rearingon their hind legs as each strained for advantage.
"Do you have a favorite, _feringhi _Sahib?" A brown-skinned man with aslightly soiled turban was tugging at Hawksworth's sleeve. "There isstill time to wager."
"No thanks." Hawksworth moved to brush him aside.
"But it is our habit in India to wager on the elephants, Sahib. Perhapsthe Sahib does not yet know Indian customs?" He pushed closer, directlyin Hawksworth's face. His few remaining teeth were stained red withbetel. "I myself am a poor judge of elephants, l can never guess whichwill win. Still I love to wager. May Allah forgive me."
"I'm not here to bet."
"Just this once, Sahib. For my weakness." He turned and pointed throughthe dust. "Although the dark elephant is smaller and already growingtired, I will even offer to bet on him to give you, a guest in India, achance to win. So when you return to your _feringhistan _someday, youwill say there is one honest man in India. I will wager you ten rupeesthe dark one will be declared the winner." The man backed away for aninstant and discreetly assessed Hawksworth's worn jerkin with a quickglance. "If ten rupees are too much, I will wager you five."
Hawksworth studied the two elephants again. The dark one was slightlysmaller, and did seem to be growing tired. The other elephant, largerand brown, had a mahout less skilled but he also clearly was gainingthe advantage.
"All right. I'll take the brown." Hawksworth reached for his purse,feeling slightly relieved that it was still there. "And I'll lay twentyrupees."
"As pleases the Sahib." The man smiled broadly. "The Sahib must be avery rich man in his _feringhistan_."
Even as he spoke, the large brown elephant wheeled and
slammed its black adversary in the side with its tusks, barely missingthe leg of the mahout. The black elephant staggered backward, againstthe side of the fort. It was now clearly on the defensive, as thelarger elephant began slamming it repeatedly in the side.
Hawksworth found himself caught up in the taste of imminent victory.
"Charkhi! Charkhi!" A cry began to rise from the crowd. The man holdingthe burning taper looked up toward Arangbar, who signaled lightly withhis hand. Then the men holding the long poles tipped them toward thetaper, and the two ends of papered bamboo were quickly ignited.
The bamboo sticks started to whirl like pinwheels, popping and throwingsparks from the gunpowder packed inside. The keepers turned and thrustthe poles under the face of the brown elephant, sending him rearingbackward in fright.
Although the black elephant now lay crushed against the wall, the brownwas too distracted by the sudden noise to press his advantage. Insteadhe wheeled away from the exploding bamboo and began to charge wildlytoward the edge of the crowd. Retreating bodies pummeled aboutHawksworth, and there were frightened calls of "_lor langar_." As theelephant neared the crowd, its second rider, with a look of infiniteregret, threw down the log chained to its forefoot. The chain whippedagainst its leg, and in moments it was tangled and stumbling.
By then the smaller black elephant had recovered its feet and camegalloping in chase. In moments he was there, slamming his largeradversary with his tusks. The brown elephant stumbled awkwardly,tangled in the chain, and then collapsed into the dust. With a victoryyell the mahout of the black elephant pulled a cord releasing a canvascloth over its eyes. The heaving animal immediately began to gentle,and its jubilant keepers ran forward to lead it away.
"Your elephant lost, Sahib. My regrettings. May I have the twentyrupees?"
"But it was fixed!" Hawksworth held tightly to his purse.
"The brown was clearly winning before he was frightened by the damnedfireworks."
"Did I neglect to tell the Sahib that the black elephant is a _khasa_,from His Majesty's private stable? His Majesty does not like to see hiselephants lose."
"You conniving bastard."
"His Majesty makes the rules. Sahib. It is permitted to use the_charkhi _fireworks once during a contest, if His Majesty judges thatthe elephants need to be disciplined. May Allah grant you better lucknext week." The man stood waiting, hand outstretched.
"You're a damned thief."
"That is a harsh judgment. Sahib. I am merely a poor man who must live.If you wait, you will see what happens to criminals here."
With a sigh of resignation Hawksworth began to count out the twentysilver rupees, trying to look as sporting as he could muster. He foundhimself in grudging admiration of the swindler's style. Then hesuddenly realized what the man had said.
The rumors must have been right.
"You mean there'll be an execution?"
"This is the day. His Majesty always has executions on Tuesday, afterthe elephant fights."
Hawksworth looked up to see another bull elephant being ridden into theplaza. He had sharpened tusks, each decorated with a single heavy brassring, and was guided by a single rider, a fierce-looking, unshavenmahout. The elephant was festooned with bells, but there were no chainsabout any of its legs.
At the other end of the square a balding man, with a short black beardand a ragged green cloak, was being dragged forward by Imperial guards.Hawksworth noticed that his arms had been bound behind him, by a heavycord circled just above the elbows. His eyes brimmed with fear.
The guards shoved him struggling toward the middle of the plaza. Whenthey reached the central clearing, the officer of the guard knocked himto his knees with the butt end of a lance. The stunned prisoner turnedto watch in terror as the elephant lumbered toward him, flapping itsears in anticipation.
"He was sentenced yesterday, Sahib."
"What did he do? Steal some nobleman's sheep? In England that's ahanging offense."
"Oh no, Sahib, Islamic law does not give the death penalty for theft,unless a thief is notorious. And even then he must be caught in theact. If it is proved you have stolen something worth more than acertain amount, then the sentence is to have your right hand cut off.But for that to happen there must either be two witnesses or the thiefmust himself confess. Islamic law is not cruel; it is just."
"What's this man accused of then?"
"He was tried and found guilty under Islamic law of _qatlul-'amd_, awillful murder. His name is Kaliyan, and he is a Hindu and the son ofBijai Ganga Ram. He is accused of having kept a common Muslim woman ashis concubine, and when the woman's father discovered this and went toreclaim her to restore his family's honor, this man murdered him andburied him behind his house. He confessed the act yesterday morningbefore His Majesty."
The elephant moved with calm deliberation toward the kneeling prisoner,guided by the mahout, until it towered directly over the quivering man.Suddenly it whipped its trunk about the man's torso and lifted himsquirming into the air, holding him firmly against its banded tusks. Itswung the screaming man back and forth in delight for a long moment,seeming to relish the torment, then dashed him violently to the ground.
The prisoner hit on his back, gasping, and weakly tried to roll to hisfeet. Before he could gain his footing, the elephant was there again,seizing him once more with its leathery trunk and again slamming him tothe ground.
"The elephant will torment him for a time. Sahib. Before the moment ofdeath." The small brown man's eyes shone in anticipation.
Again the prisoner was lifted and again dashed to the ground. Now he nolonger attempted to struggle; he merely lay moaning in a broken voice.
Then the mahout shouted something to the elephant and the animalsuddenly reared above the man, crushing down on him with both frontfeet. There was a final, rending scream and then silence, as bloodsprayed over the dust. The elephant reared again, and again mashed thelifeless body. Then again. Finally the animal placed one foot on theman's lower torso and seized his crushed chest with its trunk,wrenching upward and rending the body in two. Maddened by the smell ofblood, he whipped the torn half upward and slammed it once more againstthe hard earth. Finally the mahout tapped the blood-spattered elephantwith his _ankus_ and began guiding it toward the back of the square.The crowd, which had held a spellbound silence, erupted into cheers.
"That's the most brutal death I've ever seen." Hawksworth found hisvoice only after the initial shock had passed.
"It's why so few men dare to commit murder, Sahib. But His Majesty isvery just. All criminals are given a full Islamic trial before they areexecuted."
Hawksworth looked up to see yet another man being led into the plaza.The cheers of the crowd died abruptly. He wore only a loincloth, whichwas pure white, and his hands were bound not behind him but in front,secured through a large wooden clamp that had been locked together likeEuropean stocks. Hawksworth took one look and felt his own grointighten.
"All praise to Allah the Merciful. And to the Holy Prophet, on whom bepeace," one of the white-bearded mullahs shouted through the silence.He wore a gray turban, a dingy collarless shirt that reached to hisknees, and over that a long black vest. He carried a staff and wasbarefoot. Other mullahs clustered around him immediately and joined hiscall.
"Murder! Murder!" Another voice began to chant, from a young manstanding near Hawksworth. Then other young men with him took up the cryand began to surge forward. They were fresh-faced, with clean whiteshirts and trousers, and they awkwardly began to brandish short swords.
Imperial guards immediately threw a line across the crowd and held theyoung men back with short pikes. While the crowd watched, the prisonercontinued to walk alone and unescorted toward the center of the square.
Hawksworth studied the face again, the deep sad eyes above a flowingwhite beard, and there was no doubt. He turned to the man standingbeside him.
"Do you know who that is?"
"Of course, Sahib. He's the heretic poet Samad. Did you hear that hedenied the existence of Allah in an Islamic court? He has beensentenced to death."
"Who are those men with the swords?"
"They're his disciples. I think they came today to try to save him."
Hawksworth turned to see the elephant again being urged forward.
"What about. . . what about the Persian woman I heard was arrested withhim?"
"I do not think she has been executed yet, Sahib. They say she will behanged, secretly, in the fort. Women are not executed by elephant."
"When . . ." Hawksworth struggled to contain his voice. "When do theysay she'll be hanged?"
"Perhaps in a week or two. Perhaps she is already dead." He movedforward to watch. "What do poor Believers know of justice inside thefort? But the heretic Samad will die for all to see, so there will beno rumors that he still lives. Already there are stories in Agra thathe had escaped to Persia."
Samad had reached the center of the square. As the elephant approached,he turned to the crowd of young men, raising his bound hands towardthem in a gesture of recognition.
"Do not grieve for this weak clay." His voice was sonorous, hypnotic,and the crowd fell curiously quiet. "Grieve for yourselves, you whomust travel on a short while, sorrowing still."
The crowd erupted again, the mullahs and many others urging his death,the young followers decrying it. Again he lifted his hands, and hisvoice seemed to bring silence around it.
"I say to you do not grieve. You will all soon know far greater sorrow.Soon death will lay his dark hand across the city of Agra, upon Muslimand Hindu alike, upon woman and child. Many will perish without cause.Therefore grieve not for me. Grieve for yourselves, when death willdescend upon your doorsteps, there to take the innocent. Sorrow foryour own."
The crowd had listened in hushed silence. Then a bearded mullah shouted"Death to the heretic" and others took up the cry.
Samad watched the elephant quietly as it continued to lumber forward.When it reached him, he bowed to it with an ironic smile. The mahoutlooked upward toward the black throne of the _Diwan-i-Khas_, whereArangbar and Janahara sat waiting. Arangbar turned to the queen, withwhat seemed a question, and she replied without moving her stare fromthe court below. Arangbar paused a moment, then signaled the mahout toproceed. The bearded mahout saluted the Moghul, then urged the elephantforward with his sharp _ankus_.
The elephant flapped its bloodstained ears in confusion but did notmove.
The mahout goaded it again and shouted something in its ear, but itmerely waved its trunk and trumpeted.
"Merciful Allah. The elephant does not smell his crime." The small mancaught Hawksworth's questioning look. "The Great Akman believedelephants would not kill an innocent man, that they can always smell aman's guilt. But I have never before seen one refuse to kill aprisoner. I think Samad must be a wizard, who has entranced theanimal."
"Innocent," a young man from the group of disciples yelled out abovethe silence.
The mahout goaded the elephant once more, but still it stood unmoving.
"Innocent." More cries went up from Samad's young followers, and againthey pressed forward, swords in hand. In moments the plaza became abattleground, blood staining the earth as the Imperial guards beganturning their pikes against the line of disciples. Then others in thecrowd, mullahs leading them, broke through and joined the battleagainst the young men. Sword rang against sword and calls to Allah rentthe air.
Samad stood quietly watching as the battle edged toward him. Thensuddenly a group of bearded mullahs broke from the crowd and surgedtoward him, swords drawn. Hawksworth instinctively reached for his ownweapon, but the man beside him caught his arm. He looked down to see asmall, rust-handled _katar _pointed against his chest.
"This is the will of Allah. An infidel must not interfere."
The mullahs had formed a ring around Samad. He stood silently, waiting,as the leader stepped forward and thrust a long sword into the bareskin of his lower stomach. He jerked but did not fall, standing tall asanother swung a sharp blade across his open neck. His head dropped toone side and he slumped forward, as two more men thrust swords into hisbelly. In seconds he disappeared beneath a crowd of black cloaks.
