Free The Twentieth Wife by Indu Sundaresan

Emperor. . . .
    A few hours later, Akbar’s personal physician, hakim Humam, came to the prince’s apartments. Salim dismissed all his attendants. The hakim and Salim remained closeted for an hour. Then the hakim left, carrying in his right hand a heavy embroidered bag, usually used for gold mohurs.
    Salim stood at the door to his apartments, watching Humam leave. He almost shouted out at the last minute to stop the man, then changed his mind. He was not strong enough yet, and his mind was too fuddled by the morning dose of opium. Perhaps, Salim thought dully, sinking down to the marble floor and leaning against the doorway, nothing would happen after all. Neither Salim nor the hakim noticed one of Akbar’s servants lounging against a pillar in the main courtyard.
    A few days later, the royal palace was rife with gossip. TheEmperor was unwell from a bout of colic, and it seemed he would not recover. The royal physicians could do nothing to ease the Emperor’s suffering.
    News of Akbar’s agony was brought to Prince Salim in an inner courtyard of the mardana late one afternoon as he fed the pigeons. The eunuch who brought the message coughed to attract his attention. Salim did not look at him, heard what he had to say, and then dismissed him with a nod. A pigeon gently nudged his clenched fist. Salim opened it and let the wheat fall to the ground. He watched the pigeons scramble in the dust. Was it true that the Emperor was gravely ill? Or was it just an exaggeration, as all matters of the royal palace were exaggerated? What if Akbar died?
    Salim straightened up and said, “Hoshiyar.”
    A eunuch stepped forward from behind one of the pillars. Hoshiyar Khan was the head eunuch of Salim’s zenana, the most important man in it other than the prince. It was he who ran the harem with metronomic efficiency, settling squabbles between the various women: wives, concubines, slaves, maids, cooks. He also doled out their allowances and advised them on their investments.
    Like everyone, he had his instructions not to disturb his master during the afternoon sessions, but he was never too far from the prince. Hoshiyar listened, bowed, and left the courtyard. Salim watched him go. What was done was done. Humam had assured him Akbar would live. Now he had to attend to other matters.
    Through Hoshiyar, Salim sent spies to the palace of his brother Prince Murad to check on his activities. Murad, now twenty-one years old, was also a candidate for the throne, as was Daniyal. The laws of primogeniture did not prevail in Mughal India as they did in Europe—all three of Akbar’s sons had equal rights to the throne.
    The spies reported that Murad was in no fit state to contend for the crown. The prince was a drunkard, barely lucid for a few hours every day. He had no ambition; wine and the women of his harem hadpropelled him to past caring. Daniyal was as yet too young to pose a threat. Neither of the two princes would inspire confidence in the nobles of the court, so their support would naturally go to Salim.
    •   •   •
    I N HIS BEDCHAMBER , Akbar suffered in silence, not daring to voice his fears. Pain racked his body, and sweat drenched his face. But the physical agony was nothing compared with the dull ache in his heart, as though something large and heavy were sitting on his chest. The previous day, one of his trusted retainers in Salim’s service had asked for and been granted an audience. What he had to say filled Akbar with unbelievable distress.
    The Emperor moved restlessly in his bed. How could he believe such an infamous charge against his beloved son? But the facts all pointed to it. His condition had steadily deteriorated day by day. He was a robust forty-nine years of age, temperate in his habits, and he had always enjoyed good health. Yet, the colic was persistent, the pains increasing every day. Now he lay in his bed, a ghost of his former self.
    As he moved again, muttering to himself, Ruqayya rose from her