Chapter Thirty Nine

Jagatsingh, being set at liberty, repaired to his father's camp and, pursuant to his word, brought about a treaty between the Moghul and the Pathan. The Pathans yielded their allegiance to the Lord of Delhi, yet retained their sovereignty over Orissa. The particulars of that settlement belong to the province of history; it needeth not that we enter into them at length here. When the negotiations were concluded, both parties remained for some days in their former positions. That the new amity might be properly celebrated, the chief minister Khwaja Isa and the commander Osman conducted Katlu Khan's sons to the camp of Raja Mansingh, presenting therewith a hundred and fifty elephants and divers other costly gifts, to the great satisfaction of the Raja; and the Raja, on his part, did them much honour and dismissed them all with robes of distinction.

Thus several days passed in concluding the treaty and breaking up the encampments. At length, when the hour drew near for the Rajput army to march upon Patna, Jagatsingh rode one afternoon to the Pathan fortress, attended by his retinue, to take leave of Osman and the rest. Since their meeting in the prison, Osman had shown no further warmth towards the prince; and now he exchanged a few words of common courtesy and bade him farewell.

Jagatsingh quitted Osman with a heavy heart, and went next to take leave of Khwaja Isa. Thence he proceeded with the intention of bidding adieu to Ayesha. He sent a message to her by one of the inner-ward sentinels, giving the man these words to say: "Tell her that since the death of the Nawab Sahib we have not met; now I depart for Patna, and the chance of our meeting again is slender indeed—wherefore I would fain pay my respects to her ere I go."

After some little while the eunuch returned and said: "The Nawab's daughter sends word that she will not receive the prince; she begs his forgiveness."

The prince, his grief now deepened to its uttermost, turned his horse towards his own camp. At the fortress gate he perceived that Osman stood there awaiting him.

The prince, seeing Osman, saluted him again and would have passed on, but Osman followed close behind. The prince said: "Commander, if thou hast any command, declare it—I shall count myself honoured to fulfil it."

Osman replied: "I have a particular matter to speak with thee; it cannot be spoken with so many attendants by. Pray give thy suite leave to ride ahead, and come thou alone with me."

Without hesitation the prince bade his followers go forward, and rode alone beside the Pathan; Osman likewise had his horse brought and mounted. Having ridden some distance, Osman led the prince into the heart of a dense forest of sal trees. In the midst of that wood stood a ruined mansion—it seemed that in some former age a rebel fugitive had lain concealed here within the thicket. Tethering their horses to the sal trees, Osman brought the prince inside the ruined pile. The building was deserted. In the centre lay an open courtyard; on one side a Muhammadan grave had been made ready, yet no corpse lay within it; on the other side a funeral pyre was laid, yet no dead body rested upon it.

When they had come into the courtyard, the prince demanded: "What is the meaning of all this?"

Osman answered: "All this hath been prepared at my command. If I die this day, thou shalt bury me in that grave, and none shall know of it; if thou die, I will have thee laid upon that pyre and committed to the flames by a Brahman, and none shall be the wiser."

The prince, astonished, said: "What is the purport of all this?"

Osman said: "We are Pathans—when the heart is set ablaze we reckon not right nor wrong. In this world there is no room for two men who alike desire Ayesha's love; one of us shall yield up his life here and now."

Then the prince understood the whole matter and was greatly disturbed. He said: "What is thy purpose?"

Osman said: "Thou art armed—fight me. If thou canst, kill me and clear thine own path; or else die at my hands and clear mine."

So saying, Osman gave Jagatsingh no time to reply, but fell upon him sword in hand. The prince was compelled in self-defence to draw his sword swiftly from the scabbard and ward off Osman's blows. Osman pressed again and again with fierce purpose to slay the prince; yet the prince not once endeavoured to strike Osman in return—he was occupied solely in guarding himself. Both men were accomplished swordsmen; the combat continued long, and neither could overpower the other. In the end, however, the blows of the Pathan had scored the prince's body in many places; blood ran freely from his wounds; yet, since he had not once struck at Osman, Osman remained untouched. Seeing that his strength was failing with the loss of blood, and knowing that death was certain should the fight continue, Jagatsingh said in a faint voice: "Osman, forbear—I own myself vanquished."

Osman laughed aloud and cried: "I had not known that a prince and commander feared to die. Fight on—I will slay thee; I shall grant no quarter. Alive, thou shalt never possess Ayesha."

The prince said: "I do not desire Ayesha."

Osman, still whirling his sword, made answer: "Thou dost not desire Ayesha—but Ayesha desireth thee. Fight on—there is no mercy."

The prince flung his sword far away and said: "I will not fight. Thou didst serve me in my hour of need; I will not raise my blade against thee."

Osman, in a fury, kicked the prince and cried: "Thus do I compel a soldier who is afraid to fight."

The prince's patience was exhausted. Swiftly snatching up the discarded weapon from the ground, he sprang upon the Pathan with the fierce bound of a lion that hath been bitten by a jackal. Osman could not sustain that terrible assault. Felled by the prince's mighty blow, he lay upon the earth. The prince bestrode his chest, wrested the sword from his hand, and set his own blade to Osman's throat, saying: "Well—hath thy thirst for battle been slaked?"

Osman said: "Not while life remains."

The prince said: "I can end thy life this very moment, canst thou not?"

Osman said: "Then do so—else thine enemy, who seeketh thy death, will live on."

Jagatsingh said: "Let him live. A Rajput is not daunted by that. I might indeed have ended thy life—but thou didst once preserve mine, and I have now returned the office."

So saying, he held Osman's hands and feet fast together, and stripped from his body, one by one, every weapon he bore. Then he released him and said: "Now go home in peace. Thou, being a Pathan, didst lay thy foot upon the body of a Rajput—for that reason I have used thee thus; otherwise, Rajputs are not so ungrateful as to lay a hand upon one who hath befriended them."

Osman, set free, spoke not another word; he mounted his horse and rode at full speed straight back towards the fortress.

The prince drew water from the well in the courtyard with his garment, and washed his wounds. Having washed, he loosed his horse from the sal tree and mounted. When he was in the saddle he observed that a letter had been tied to the bridle by means of creepers and undergrowth. He detached the paper from the bridle and found it bound with a lock of human hair; on its outer surface was written: "Open not this letter within two days; if thou dost open it, its purpose will be defeated."

The prince considered for a moment, then resolved to act in accordance with the writer's wish. He placed the letter within his amulet-pouch, struck his horse and set off towards the camp.

The day after the prince had reached his camp, a second letter came to him by the hand of a messenger. This letter had been sent by Ayesha. But the account thereof belongeth to the following chapter.