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

parchment and a large mole on the left side of her chin sprouted a trio of luxuriant white hairs. Could she ever have been beautiful – beautiful enough to have made Akbar eager to make her his wife? Mehrunissa wondered, watching the elderly woman lying dozing on a low bed piled with plump orange cushions. She thought she could guess the answer. Though he had chosen his concubines for his physical pleasure, Akbar had used marriage as a means of contracting political alliances. Fatima Begam’s family were rulers of a small state on the borders of Sind.
    Mehrunissa stirred restlessly. She wished she could read but Fatima Begam liked the lighting in her apartments to be kept subdued. Muslin hangings over the arched windows filtered the sunlight. She rose and went over to one of the windows. Through the curtain she glimpsed the amber waters of the Jumna river sweeping by. A group of men were cantering along its broad muddy bank, their hunting dogs running behind. Once again she envied men their freedom. Here in the imperial
haram,
this self-contained city of women, her life felt even more constricted than it had in Kabul. Despite the beauty of its flower-filled gardens and terraces, its avenues of trees and shimmering scented fountains, the rich furnishings – no floor was ever left bare, and colourful swathes of glowing silks and sensuous velvets draped windows and doors – the
haram
seemed like a prison. Rajput soldiers guarded the great gates leading into it and within it waspatrolled by female guards and by the bland-faced but knowing-looking eunuchs whose presence, even after eight weeks, she still found unsettling.
    Yet most unsettling of all was that as yet she had heard nothing from the emperor . . . she hadn’t even caught a glimpse of him though she knew he was at court. Why hadn’t he sent for her or even come to visit Fatima Begam where he would know he would be sure of seeing her? Could it be that her hopes – and those of her father – had no foundation after all? She must be patient, Mehrunissa told herself as she turned away from the window. What else could she do? If she was to prosper here instinct told her she needed to understand this strange new world. She must explore the
haram
whenever Fatima Begam had errands for her. She had already discovered that the honeycomb of rooms built around three sides of a square paved courtyard where Fatima Begam had her quarters housed dozens of women related one way or another to the imperial family – aunts, great-aunts, the most distant of distant cousins.
    She had also seen enough to know that her estimation of Mala’s importance and character had been correct. The
khawajasara
rigidly controlled every aspect of the
haram
from the preparation of perfumes and cosmetics to checking the accounts, purchasing the stores and monitoring the kitchens. The officious but efficient Mala knew the names of every one of her small army of assistants and servants down to the female scavengers employed to clean the underground tunnels into which the latrines emptied. It was she who gave permission for female visitors to enter the
haram.
It was also the
khawajasara
’s job – so Mehrunissa had heard – to keep a detailed account of every woman the emperor made loveto, including his wives, and the date in case a child was conceived. Watching through a tiny screen set high in the walls of each chamber for just such a purpose, she even noted the number of couplings.
    Jahangir’s wives, so Mehrunissa had learned, lived in grand quarters in a separate part of the
haram
she had not yet seen. If only her father had agreed to Jahangir’s request all those years ago, she might have been one of them. What kind of women were they and did he still visit their beds? It was difficult for her, a newcomer, to ask directly but gossip was one of the
haram
’s main pastimes and conversation was easy to steer in the direction she wished. She had already heard that Jodh Bai, mother of Prince