Raiders from the North: Empire of the Moghul Read Online Free PDF Page A

large rock or patch of scrubby bushes would be enough for a lone archer with skill in his hands and murder in his heart. With a curt motion of his gauntleted hand, Wazir Khan despatched a detachment of mounted guards in search of the would-be assassin.
    ‘You must return to the palace at once, Majesty.’
    Babur was still staring at the arrow. ‘Look,’ he stooped and wrenched it from the earth, ‘there’s something round the shaft.’ He ripped off the coarse red thread that was securing a sliver of parchment and stared at the writing on it. The language was his own tongue of Turki, but the words leaped and danced before his eyes and for a moment he struggled to take in their meaning.
    Wazir Khan took the paper from him and read the message aloud: ‘“The mighty Shaibani Khan, lord of the world, presents his compliments. He wishes it to be known that before three full moons have come and gone he will take possession of the shit-hole that calls itself Ferghana and piss on its throne.” ’
    ‘Bastard of an Uzbek,’ the soldier said contemptuously, but Babur saw anxiety in his face.
    ‘What is it?’ The court astrologer came hurrying over and twitched the paper from Wazir Khan’s fingers. Baqi Beg glanced at its contents and Babur heard his sharp intake of breath. The little man began to rock back and forth on the balls of his feet, hands clenched, his reedy voice rising in a wail: ‘Shaibani Khan is coming, that
alachi
, that killer . . . I see it . . . He rides a black horse that smashes men’s skulls to dust beneath its hoofs.’ His wail turned to a shriek: ‘Shaibani Khan is coming! Death and disaster ride behind him!’
    Qambar-Ali, too, appeared by Babur’s side, the treasurer and the comptroller close behind. All three were shaking their heads. ‘The royal council must meet tonight after the funeral feast. Shaibani Khan does not make idle threats,’ the vizier said. Yusuf and Baba Qashqa nodded vigorous assent. So, too, did Baqi Beg.
    Wazir Khan made no such gesture of agreement. Instead he wasstaring at the vizier in a way that Qambar-Ali did not seem to relish. ‘Vizier, perhaps you would do well to use your undoubted authority to calm the people. My guards are at your disposal should you require them to restore order.’
    ‘You are right, Wazir Khan, I thank you.’ Qambar-Ali inclined his turbaned head and hurried off, the other royal councillors in his wake. Babur could hear Baqi Beg still muttering about the apocalypse to come and felt a surge of irritation. Once he was crowned he would have a better man than that spineless worm as his astrologer. It was a mystery why his father had put up with him – indeed why he had ever chosen him. Perhaps Baqi Beg’s family had done him some service he had felt he must reward.
    Now that no further attack seemed imminent, men were emerging slightly sheepishly from their hiding-places, dusting themselves down. As the name of Shaibani Khan passed from mouth to mouth, Babur could hear some beginning to lament and moan as if they thought their doom already sealed. He glanced up at the sky to find it suddenly bloated with black clouds that had sailed in unnoticed over the plains and across the sun. Drops of rain splashed on his upturned face.
    ‘Majesty.’ Wazir Khan shook him again, so roughly this time that he thought his shoulder would jump from its socket. The soldier lowered his voice to an urgent whisper: ‘This message from Shaibani Khan. How can it possibly be him? How could he have learned of your father’s death so soon when he and his hordes are the far side of the mountains? No, it is a device, probably planned by that traitor Qambar-Ali. Perhaps he hoped to kill you. At the very least, he wished to strike panic into the hearts of the people so that they will less readily accept a youth as their king. But we must not be deflected from our plan. Ride for the fortress – stop for nothing and no one. As soon as I can, I will follow.’
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