Free Empire of the Moghul: The Tainted Throne by Alex Rutherford Page A

After they married he and Hamida were rarely apart. She sustained him through all the dangerous years until finally he won back the Moghul throne. After his sudden death Hamida had the strength to make sure my father Akbar inherited the throne.’
    ‘Your grandmother was a brave woman and a worthy empress. You feel that the woman you wished to marry would have been as good a companion to you?’
    ‘I know it. My father forced me to relinquish her but when I became emperor I knew the time had come when I could be with her.’
    ‘But you said she was promised to another. Did she marry that man?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Then what has changed? Has her husband died?’
    ‘Yes, he is dead.’ Jahangir paused for a moment then stood up and paced about before turning to face the Sufi. He could tell by the man’s expression that he already knew what he was about to say. ‘His name was Sher Afghan. He was my commander in Gaur in Bengal. I had him killed and ordered his widow to be brought here to the imperial
haram.
’
    ‘To murder a man so you can take his wife is a great sin, Majesty.’ The Sufi was sitting up very straight on his stool and his expression was stern.
    ‘Was it murder? I am the emperor. I have the power of life and death over every one of my subjects.’
    ‘But as emperor you are also the fount of justice. You cannot kill on a whim or to suit your convenience.’
    ‘Sher Afghan was corrupt. The commander I appointed in his place has provided me with ample evidence of how much imperial money he stole. Thousands of
mohurs
sent him from my treasury for the purchase of horses and equipment went into his own pocket. He also had wealthy merchants executed on false charges so that he could seize their property. I have enough evidence to have had Sher Afghan executed ten, twenty times . . .’
    ‘But you knew nothing about his crimes when you ordered his death?’
    Jahangir hesitated, then said, ‘No.’
    ‘In that case, Majesty – and forgive me for speaking plainly – you should not try to justify your actions. You acted out of a selfish passion, nothing more.’
    ‘But are my actions so different from my grandfather’s? Is my crime so much worse than his? He stole a womanfrom a brother who loved him and was loyal to him. If he hadn’t alienated Hindal, Hindal himself would never have been murdered.’
    ‘Your crime is far worse because you had a man killed for your own ends. You have sinned not only against God but against the family of the woman you desire and the woman herself. In your heart you know it, otherwise why send for me?’ The Sufi’s clear brown eyes were fixed on his face. When Jahangir said nothing he continued, ‘I can’t absolve you from your sin . . . only God can forgive you.’
    Every word the Sufi had spoken was true, Jahangir thought. The need to confide in someone had been growing intolerable and he was glad that at last he had done it, but he had been deluding himself in hoping the holy man would condone his actions. ‘I will try to win God’s forgiveness. I will treble what I give to the poor. I’ll order new mosques to be built in Agra, Delhi and Lahore. I’ll—’
    The Sufi raised his hand. ‘Majesty, that isn’t enough. You said you’ve had the woman brought to your
haram.
Have you lain with her yet?’
    ‘No. She is not a common concubine. As I told you, I want to marry her. At present she is lady-in-waiting to one of my stepmothers and knows nothing of any of this. But soon I intend to send for her . . . to tell her what I feel . . .’
    ‘No. Part of your penance must be personal. You must exercise self-control. Wed this woman now and God may exact a terrible price. You must subdue your desires and wait. You must not bed her for least six months and in the meantime you must pray daily to God to forgive you.’ So saying,the Sufi rose and without waiting for Jahangir to dismiss him walked from the apartments.

    Fatima Begam’s broad face was lined and dry as