Chapter Sixteen

When Nabakumar set forth from the inn with Kapalkundala, Motibibi at that same hour took the other road and made her way toward Bardhaman. While Motibibi pursues her journey, let us tell something of what went before in her life. Moti's character was sullied by great faults, and adorned also by great virtues. The reader will not be displeased to hear a fuller account of so chequered a nature.

When her father embraced the faith of Muhammad, her Hindu name was changed, and she became Lutfunnisa. Motibibi was never her true name. Only, when she travelled now and then in disguise, would she take that name. Her father came to Dhaka and entered the royal service. But there many of his own former countrymen were gathered. Cast out from his own community, it was not easy to dwell among them. Therefore, after some time, having won favour with the Subadar, he obtained letters of introduction to several of the great Omrahs his friends, and with all his family came to Agra. From Akbar Shah no man's worth lay hidden; soon did the Emperor mark his merit. The father of Lutfunnisa rose swiftly to high station and was reckoned among the chief Omrahs of Agra. Meanwhile Lutfunnisa was coming to her years. At Agra she became well-skilled in Persian, in Sanskrit, in the dance, in song, and in the arts of wit and discourse. Among the countless ladies of the capital, renowned for beauty and accomplishment, she became foremost. Unhappily, though her instruction in learning had been so liberal, in religion she had received none. As Lutfunnisa came to her full womanhood, it became apparent that the impulses of her mind were of an ungovernable force. To curb the senses she had neither power nor will. To good and to ill her inclination was the same. She would never set her hand to any task asking whether it were good or evil; whatever pleased her, that she did. When a good deed brought delight to her heart, she did good; when an evil deed brought delight, she did evil. All those faults which spring up when the passions of youth are ungoverned, sprang up in Lutfunnisa. Her former husband being yet living, none of the Omrahs would consent to wed her. Nor was she greatly inclined toward marriage. Within herself she thought: why should I clip the wings of the bee that flies from flower to flower? At first there was whispering; at the last, a dark stain of scandal was noised abroad. Her father, in his anger, drove her forth from his house.

Among those upon whom Lutfunnisa secretly bestowed her favours was Prince Salim. To bring scandal upon the household of one of the Omrahs would have drawn upon him the wrath of his impartial father, and through that fear, Salim had not until now been able to draw Lutfunnisa into his own seraglio. Now he found his opportunity. The sister of Raja Man Singh, the chief of the Rajputs, was the Prince's principal Begum. The Prince made Lutfunnisa her chief companion. In open day Lutfunnisa was the friend of the Begum; in secret she was the favoured one of the Prince.

That a woman of Lutfunnisa's understanding should in no long while take possession of the heart of the royal heir, may readily be conceived. Her sway over the mind of Salim grew so absolute, so free of rival, that she set it down as her firm resolve that in due season she would become his chief queen. Nor was the resolve hers alone; all the dwellers of the palace deemed it possible. While Lutfunnisa was passing her days in such dreams of hope, the slumber was broken. Meher-un-nissa, daughter of Khwaja Ayas, the treasurer of Akbar Shah (Itimad-ud-Daulah), was the foremost beauty of the Mughal line. On a certain day the treasurer invited Prince Salim and other principal personages to his house. On that day Salim met Meher-un-nissa, and on that day he left his heart with her. What followed thereafter is known to every reader of history. The treasurer's daughter had been betrothed earlier to a most valiant Omrah, Sher Afgan by name. Blind with passion, Salim sought of his father that this betrothal might be broken off. But from his impartial father he received only rebuke. So Salim was for the present obliged to desist. He desisted for the time, but he did not abandon hope. The marriage of Meher-un-nissa with Sher Afgan took place. But the workings of Salim's heart lay open under Lutfunnisa's fingernail; she clearly perceived that even had Sher Afgan a thousand lives, there would be no escape for him. So soon as Akbar Shah should die, Sher Afgan's life would be ended — Meher-un-nissa would be Salim's queen. Lutfunnisa let go her hope of the throne.

The full measure of the days of the great Akbar Shah, glory of the line of the Muhammadan emperors, was drawing to its close. That fierce sun, whose light had blazed from Turkey unto the Brahmaputra, was setting. At this hour Lutfunnisa, to keep her own pre-eminence, framed a most daring design.

The sister of Raja Man Singh, lord of the Rajputs, was Salim's chief queen. Khusrau was her son. One day she was speaking with Lutfunnisa of the ailing body of Akbar Shah; and on the occasion of saying that the Rajput's daughter would now become the wife of the Emperor, Lutfunnisa offered her congratulations. In reply, the mother of Khusrau said, "To be the queen of an emperor is indeed to make life worth the having; but she who is the mother of an emperor stands above all." No sooner had she received the answer than a singular thought leapt up in Lutfunnisa's heart. She made reply, "Why should it not be so? That too is in your own power." The Begum said, "How so?" The cunning one answered, "Bestow the throne upon Prince Khusrau."

The Begum made no reply. That day the matter was not raised again, but neither of them forgot it. That her son in place of her husband should ascend the throne — this was no unwelcome thought to the Begum; the love of Salim for Meher-un-nissa was a thorn in Lutfunnisa's heart, and a thorn in the Begum's also. How should it please the sister of Man Singh to live in obedience to some upstart Turkmen girl? And Lutfunnisa too had grave reasons of her own for setting forward this design. Another day the matter was again raised between them. The minds of both were resolved.

That, setting Salim aside, Khusrau should be set upon the throne of Akbar — there was no reason why this should appear impossible. So Lutfunnisa skilfully made the Begum to understand. She said, "The empire of the Mughal stands upon the strength of the Rajputs; the chief of that Rajput line is Raja Man Singh, who is the maternal uncle of Khusrau; and the chief of the Mussulmans, Khan Azim, who is the prime minister, is the father-in-law of Khusrau. If these two be active in the matter, who will not follow them? And by whose strength then shall the Prince ascend the throne? To engage Raja Man Singh in this work is your charge. To draw in Khan Azim and the other Muhammadan Omrahs is mine. By your blessing the work shall succeed; but there is one fear — lest, once seated upon the throne, Khusrau drive this fallen woman forth from the palace."

The Begum understood her companion's meaning. Laughing, she said, "Whatsoever Omrah of Agra thou wouldst have for husband, he shall wed thee. Thy husband shall be a Mansabdar of five thousand."

Lutfunnisa was content. This was her aim. If she must remain in the palace as an ordinary woman of the harem, what gain was there in clipping the wings of the bee that wandered among flower upon flower? If she must give up her liberty, what joy could there be in being a handmaid to her childhood-friend Meher-un-nissa? Better, far better, to be the sovereign mistress of some great noble's household.

Nor was it for this profit alone that Lutfunnisa entered upon this work. That Salim, setting her aside, should be so consumed for Meher-un-nissa's sake — for this also she sought her revenge.

Khan Azim and the other Omrahs of Agra and Delhi were well at the command of Lutfunnisa. That Khan Azim should bestir himself for the welfare of his son-in-law was no strange thing. He and the other Omrahs gave their assent. Khan Azim said to Lutfunnisa, "Consider — should by some mischance we not succeed, there will be no safety for thee or for me. It were well, therefore, to keep open some path for the saving of our lives."

Lutfunnisa said, "What is your counsel?" Khan Azim replied, "Save Orissa, there is no refuge. Only in that place is the rule of the Mughal not so strict. It is needful that the soldiery of Orissa be at our command. Thy brother is a Mansabdar of Orissa; tomorrow I shall give it out that he hath been wounded in war. Thou, under pretext of going to see him, set forth tomorrow itself for Orissa. There do what must be done, and return with all speed."

Lutfunnisa consented to this counsel. She came to Orissa, and it was upon her return that the reader hath already met with her.