The Slave Girl of Agra/Book 2/Chapter 5
V. AN INTERVIEW
The events of the night were more strange to Noren than any story ever told in the romances he had read. A few hours ago the young soldier had vainly endeavoured to penetrate the dark mystery which hung around him, but the curtain had now risen. He had been brought into that wonderful fort of Agra which the genius of Akbar had raised on the banks of the Jumna, and which was then the wonder of the world. He had been lodged in the Amber Guest House, in that outer portion of the fort where the great Emperor daily gave audience to his subjects. He had penetrated into the inner halls of the Queens and Begums. He had seen the renowned Jodh Bai, Queen of Akbar, and mother of the heir to the Empire. He had accompanied that Imperial heir on a secret visit to that Fair Persian whose fame had already spread over Hindustan. The plot had thickened, and Noren had been a silent witness to the dark treason and the failure of the Prince. And he now waited in breathless suspense, like the Sleeper Awakened in the Arabian Nights, to see what new scenes or perils the Fates reserved for him.
The Prince had retired, and Jelekha and her friend were commanded to enter. The august Persian Lady cast her keen glances through her ample veil on Noren, who was trembling in his woman's clothes. But he quickly recovered himself and stood erect; he folded his hands and bent his eyes to the ground awaiting commands.
"Take off those woman's clothes, young soldier," spake at last the imperious woman in a voice of command, "they ill befit a warrior and scarcely conceal a man."
Noren walked out of the room and came back in his soldier's dress. Mihr-un-Nissa looked at him again and spoke.
"This is the young chief of an ancient Bengal House who was wounded in the Emperor's service and was brought unconscious to Agra?"
"He is, so please you, noble Begum," replied Jelekha.
"And his grandfather stood faithful to the Emperor's cause when the Afghans assailed the Empire and Raja Todar Mull nearly lost his footing?"
Jelekha was silent, but Noren replied humbly, "Little help, august lady, can our humble House render to the Imperial troops, but my noble grandfather staked his life for the cause, and your humble servant shall not be found wanting."
"The soldier speaks well," said Mihr-un-Nissa, "though he speaks the tongue of Agra imperfectly. But tell me, Jelekha, how he first secured admission to the fort."
"His life was despaired of, great lady, and Raja Man Singh obtained royal assent for his admission to the Amber Guest House. The Raja's aunt—the honoured Queen of our august Emperor—sent her physicians to look after the friendless Bengal chief, and my royal mistress, Queen Jodh Bai, also made kind inquiries of him."
"Fortunate is the young soldier to have received such favours from Queens so noble and great, but Rajput Queens know how to honour a warrior who has served the Emperor and risked his life in his cause."
Noren bowed low to the ground.
"Ay," said Mihr-un-Nissa in a pleasanter voice, "the kindness of the royal ladies has been well aided, I fancy, by some watchful nursing. Have I heard aright, Jelekha, that a young Tartar slave of Queen Jodh Bai used to watch the patient's nightly bed with a more constant devotion than the grey-headed Hindu physicians?"
A deep crimson mantled the brow of Jelekha, but her answer was respectful as before. "Nothing is unknown to you, great Begum. It was the desire of my royal mistress that I should visit the patient nightly and bring her news of his health."
"I will not question thee too minutely, Jelekha, if thy royal mistress sometimes found her slave absent too long, or if a young soldier sometimes found his nurse too gracious."
Jelekha crimsoned again, but had the sense to keep her silence.
"Young man," said Mihr-un-Nissa, now in a different tone, "I had heard of you from my husband, and knowing that you were in the fort I desired your presence here in disguise—even in this Queen's Palace. Jelekha is a daring girl, and has faithfully obeyed my command, unknown to her royal mistress and unknown to all in this fort. You, too, have ventured, young soldier, on a deed which might well stagger a brave man. I thank you frankly for complying with my desire. We are going to Bengal, a land where we are strangers and have no friends. My husband counts on your friendship, and may I, brave soldier, rely on your sword in times of need?"
Mihr-un-Nissa knew how to shape her command as a request which no man with warm blood in his veins could disobey. Noren bowed to the ground and presented the hilt of his sword to the Fair Persian. She touched the hilt, and perhaps not unconsciously touched the hand that held the sword. That light touch sent a thrill through the soldier's veins and sealed his fealty to that wonderful woman.
"My husband," resumed Mihr-un-Nissa, "is going as Jaigirdar in the district of Burdwan. How far is that from your estate, my friend?"
"I have often done the journey down the river in our fast boats in one day, my lady, and there is a day's march by land to the town of Burdwan."
"That is not far for a young soldier like you," said Mihr-un-Nissa, with a smile, "and the gates of our Burdwan house will ever be open to receive with befitting honours the Lord of Birnagar."
"Your permission, kind lady, to pay my respects to your lord is the highest honour I could receive."
"Nay, you must come in state as a Chief on a visit to a brother Chief. And if the custom of your race and country permits it, your lady will find in her Moslem sister a faithful friend who never forgets a friend."
A shadow passed over Noren's face, and he spoke in an almost inaudible voice. "I have no lady, noble Begum. I never married."
The keen eyes of Mihr-un-Nissa saw the pale expression on Noren's face, and a woman's curiosity was roused.
"Pardon me, brave Chief, for my mistake. But few men of this land remain unmarried at your age, and Chiefs of your race and religion are anxious, I understand, to leave their estates to worthy heirs. Perhaps the Fates have willed otherwise in your case, and if these matters bring back sad recollections to you I will proceed no further."
"I enlisted as a soldier, noble lady, when I was young, and I have not visited home ever since," was the simple and sad reply of Noren.
Mihr-un-Nissa had too much of the feelings of a woman and a lady to press her inquiries further. She changed the subject.
"Are there other estates in Bengal as ancient and as powerful as yours, young Chief?"
"Bengal has many estates richer than ours, though there are few more ancient, and none more loyal to the Emperor," replied Noren, proudly. "The Zemindars pay the Imperial revenue, keep peace and order in their own estates, and maintain troops for the Imperial service."
"So I have heard, honoured Chief, and happy is the Empire which rests on the loyal support of the people and their leaders. But I have heard, too, that many estates, as large as yours, are owned by Afghan and Mogul Jaigirdars in Bengal."
"So they are, august lady. Afghan chiefs carved out large Jaigirs for themselves from olden times, and our present gracious Emperor has recently granted similar Jaigirs to other warriors—none nobler or braver than your husband. But the Moslem Jaigirdars delight in the profession of arms, draw their revenues from the Hindu Zemindars under them, and seldom disturb the ancient relations between the Zemindars and the people."
"I understand you now, brave Zemindar, and am grateful for what you have told me. I wished to learn something of Bengal from one born and bred in that distant land—something which you could tell me better than others. It is unseemly, perhaps," added Mihr-un-Nissa with a slight blush, "that a woman should meet a stranger and a soldier unknown to her lord. But our position sometimes makes this necessary, and there have been women of my faith who have sat on a throne and led an army."
Did the daring woman who spoke thus have some vision of the future, some secret ambition of filling the proudest throne in Asia and leading brave troops in the field?
There was a slight pause, and Mihr-un-Nissa then asked again: "Tell me, brave Zemindar, do the Chiefs of Bengal sometimes have wars and dissensions among themselves, forgetting their duty to the Empire? For so I have heard."
"There are hereditary rivalries between old Houses, great lady, which sometimes lead to disturbances. But the Chiefs seldom forget their duty to their Imperial Master."
"Has your House, for instance, any hereditary foes?"
"Our House, noble lady, and the neighbouring House of Debipur have been rivals, and often foes, for three hundred years and more. But nevertheless we respect each other, we serve the Empire with equal fidelity, and there have been frequent alliances to bring these rival Houses closer together."
"That is as it should be among great Houses. But you arouse a woman's curiosity, brave Chief, when you speak of alliances," added Mihr-un-Nissa, with an arch smile. "Did you never think of forming such an alliance with a soft-eyed maiden of Debipur before Raja Man Singh took you to his wars?"
Noren cast his eyes on the ground, and the pink curtains of the room were not ruddier than his crimson brow. Did this wonderful woman know of his past life? Was she, with a woman's smiling cruelty, probing his unhealed wound? Was she seeking to wring from him a cherished secret which his lips would not utter? Noren replied humbly, but firmly:
"A boy dreams dreams, great lady, which it ill beseems a man to dwell upon. A soldier has hopes and disappointments which it ill beseems your ladyship to listen to."
"Keep them to yourself, noble youth, I will not seek again to learn what perhaps pains you to tell. I have led you to some risk and danger by calling you here, and you have boldly ventured on a hazardous deed to meet my wishes. Accept this ring as a token of our meeting from a friend who will trust in you and will perchance claim hereafter help and services from the chivalrous Lord of Birnagar."
Mihr-un-Nissa, rose from her seat. Noren knelt before the veiled and queenly figure, and his hand once more felt the touch of delicate fingers when the signet ring was presented.
"Rise, young Chief," she said at last, "and depart. Something my woman's eyes have read on your face which your lips have not uttered, and a woman's heart can respect one for cherishing a feeling which he may not tell. If it be that some disappointment has darkened your life, such grief hath power to strengthen a man's character. And if it be that the influence of some true woman has touched your early life, such influence hath power to purify a man's life. Trust me, young man, he that is mighty and powerful and great, but has never felt in his heart the soft but deep influence of a woman, mother or sister, loved one or daughter, is but half a man. The Great Alla hath forgotten to make him perfect."