The Chieftain's Daughter Read online

  ‘Who are you?’ a feminine voice asked from somewhere within the temple.

  ‘From your voice I gather that it is a lady who wishes to know,’ answered the traveller in surprise. ‘How will it benefit you to know who I am?’

  ‘We are frightened,’ came the response from the heart of the shrine.

  ‘No matter who I am,’ replied the youth, ‘it is not our custom to reveal our identity to maidens. But ladies need fear no harm while I am in their presence.’

  ‘Your words fortify us,’ answered the woman. ‘We were all but dead with fear all this while. My companion is still faint. We had arrived here at dusk for the ceremonial worship of Lord Shiva. Afterwards, when the storm descended upon us, our maids and servants abandoned us and vanished we know not where.’

  ‘Pray do not worry,’the young man assured them, ‘rest now. I shall personally escort you home at daybreak tomorrow.’

  ‘May the Lord protect you,’ responded the woman.

  The night had half elapsed, the rainstorm abated, whereupon the youth said, ‘Please be bold enough to wait here by yourselves awhile. I shall visit the village nearby to procure a lamp.’

  At this, the woman said, ‘There is no need to go as far afield as the village, sir. The guard of this temple lives close at hand; the moon is out, you will see his cottage as soon as you step outside. He always has a stock of lamps in his home’. At her bidding, the young man stepped out and found the temple guard’s dwelling by the moonlight. Arriving at the entrance of his house, he awoke the owner, who was too fearful to open the door. The guard observed the intruder from the confines of his home and when close inspection did not yield any signs of the visitor being a bandit, and the lure of lucre in particular proved impossible to resist, he opened the door and lit a lamp.

  Returning with the lamp, the traveller now saw a white marble idol of the god Shiva in the centre of the temple. Two solitary women were visible behind the idol. The moment she saw the light, the younger of the two bowed her head, drawing a veil over her face. On observing the diamond-studded bracelet around her bare forearm, her intricately embroidered attire enhanced with jewels as well as royal patterns and motifs, the traveller felt certain that this young woman belonged to no ordinary lineage. From the relative lack of embellishments in the other woman’s garments, he surmised that she served as a companion and maid to the younger woman, although more accomplished than maids usually are. She appeared to be approximately thirty-five years of age. It was not difficult to realize that his conversation had been conducted with the older of the two women. He also noted with surprise that neither of them was dressed like women of the region—both were attired like ladies from the west, that is, not from Bengal but from greater Hindustan. Placing the lamp at a convenient spot, the youth approached them. When the light played over his figure, the women realized that the stranger could only be a little older than twenty-five. His physical stature might have seemed disproportionate on another person; but he was so broad of chest and his body so well sculpted that his height in fact added a divine comeliness to his appearance. His tender charm was as appealing as—or even more than—that of green shoots newly born after the rains; his armour was of the hue of young leaves of spring, his sword was slung in its sheath from the girdle at his waist, and he held a long spear. On his head was a turban, with a solitary diamond on it; from his ears dangled pearl earrings; a bejewelled amulet hung around his throat.

  At first glance, both the women and the man felt desirous of learning one another’s identities, but none wished to be uncivil enough to be the first to enquire.

  *1592 Common Era.

  Chapter Two

  Conversation

  THE YOUNG MAN was the first to express his curiosity. Addressing the older of the two women, he said, ‘I sense that both of you are ladies from families favoured by fortune, I am hesitant to ask who you are; but perhaps you do not share my constraints when it comes to revealing your identity, which is why I am emboldened sufficiently to enquire.’

  ‘What, for that matter, is a woman’s identity?’ the older one answered. ‘How should they who are unable to assume their family title identify themselves? How can those who are compelled to live secret lives ever reveal themselves? When the Lord forbade women from uttering their husbands’ names, He also robbed them of their own identities.’

  The young man did not respond, for he was distracted. Still concealed behind her companion, the younger of the two women had slowly lowered her veil to gaze steadfastly at him. During their conversation, the traveller’s eyes turned in her direction; they could not turn back. He felt that he would never again behold such a miraculously beautiful woman. The young woman’s eyes met the young man’s. She lowered hers at once. Not receiving a reply, the companion looked at the traveller. Following his eyes, and realizing that the woman accompanying her was also staring at the young man fervently, she whispered in her ear, ‘Well? Are you planning to select your own husband in the presence of the Lord?’

  Pressing her companion’s hand, the younger woman spoke just as softly, ‘Go to hell.’This girl in my care appears likely to fall prey to the love god’s arrow at the sight of the spiritedly handsome stranger, mused the shrewd attendant. Whatever else might ensue, she worried, her peace of mind will be destroyed forever. Such an eventuality had to be prevented immediately. But how was she to succeed in this endeavour? Concluding that it was her duty to dispatch the young man elsewhere through suggestion or guile, she said with feminine cunning, ‘Sir! A woman’s good name is so fragile that it cannot even withstand the wind. Surviving this terrible storm tonight had seemed well-nigh impossible, but since it has stopped now, let us see if we can go back.’

  ‘If you must leave at this hour of the night,’ answered the young man, ‘I shall escort you personally. Since the skies have cleared, I would have left for my destination by now, but I cannot depart without ensuring protection for someone as beautiful as your friend.’

  ‘Sir, we are unable to disclose everything lest you consider us ungrateful for the kindness you have extended to us,’ responded the woman. ‘What can we possibly tell you about the ill fate that befalls women? We are easily mistrustful; it will be our good fortune to have you escort us home, but when my master—this lady’s father—asks, who accompanied you on this night, what answer will she provide?’

  After a few moments’ thought, the young man said, ‘She may state that she was accompanied by King Mansingh’s son, Jagatsingh.’

  The women could not have been more startled by a clap of lightning within the temple. Both of them were on their feet instantly. The younger one retreated behind the stone representing Shiva. The older one, so adept at conversation, draped the end of her saree around her neck. Prostrating herself, she said, ‘Your Highness! We have offended you a thousand times out of ignorance; pray permit your generosity to forgive us dim-witted women.’

  ‘There can be no forgiveness for such a grave offence,’ the young man said smiling. ‘But I shall forgive you if you tell me who you are, or else you shall receive fitting punishment.’

  Gentle words always make the discerning woman courageous. The lady said with a smile, ‘What is the punishment, we are ready.’

  Also smiling, Jagatsingh said, ‘That I shall escort both of you home.’

  The companion realized that severe danger lay ahead. She was unwilling to reveal the identity of the younger woman to the general of the Emperor of Delhi’s army; if he were to escort them back, it would cause greater damage, for it would amount to much more than disclosure. She continued to look at the floor.

  At that moment the drumbeat of hoofs was heard not far from the temple; anxiously emerging outside, the prince observed a group of nearly one hundred horsemen riding by. A single glance at their uniform revealed that they were his Rajput soldiers. The prince had earlier visited the Bishnupur area on war-related business, and had been on his way to meet his father, accompanied by one hundred members of the cavalry. In the
afternoon he had left his retinue behind; but because they had all taken different routes, he had run into the thunderstorm all by himself. Now he attempted to find out whether his soldiers had seen him, crying out loudly, ‘Long live the Emperor of Delhi.’At once one of the horsemen approached him. ‘I was waiting here because of the thunderstorm, Dharmasingh,’ the prince told him.

  Bowing, Dharmasingh said, ‘We have been searching everywhere for Your Highness, we have brought your horse—we discovered him near that banyan tree over there.’

  ‘Wait here with the horse,’ Jagatsingh instructed. ‘Send two people to fetch a palanquin and accompanying bearers, tell the rest of the soldiers to advance.’

  Dharmasingh was somewhat surprised by these instructions, but knowing that it was incorrect to question his commander, he simply said, ‘As you please, sir,’ and proceeded to convey the prince’s instructions to the troops. When told about the palanquins, some of the soldiers smiled wryly at one another, saying, ‘A novel strategy today.’ ‘And why not?’ another remarked. ‘The royals have hundreds of consorts, after all.’

  Meanwhile, taking the opportunity of the prince’s absence, the beautiful young woman removed her veil and asked her companion, ‘Why are you unwilling to reveal our identity to the prince, Bimala?’

  ‘I will answer that question to your father,’ responded Bimala. ‘But what is this uproar I hear again outside?’

  ‘I imagine the prince’s troops must have been looking for him,’ answered the young woman. ‘Surely there is nothing to worry about while the prince is here?’

  Before the horsemen who had departed in search of palanquin-bearers could return, the bearers and guards who had deposited the women inside the temple and taken shelter from the storm in the nearby village came back. Spotting them from a distance, Jagatsingh re-entered the temple to tell the older woman, ‘Some armed people are approaching with a palanquin and bearers, can you come outside to identify whether they are your people?’ Standing at the door, Bimala confirmed that they were.

  ‘Then I shall not tarry here any more,’ said the prince. ‘A confrontation might cause harm. I am leaving but I pray to the lord that you reach home safely. I request you not to reveal before a week has elapsed that you met me here; do not forget our meeting, however. Please accept a small token in remembrance of our encounter. As for me, that I did not learn the identity of the daughter of your master shall remain as a keepsake in my heart.’ Extracting a pearl necklace from his bejewelled turban he placed it on Bimala’s head. Weaving the valuable ornament into her hair, Bimala bowed deferentially to the prince, saying, ‘Please do not hold it against me for not disclosing our identities. There is a very good reason for it. If indeed you are assailed by extreme curiosity, tell me where to meet you a fortnight from today.’

  After some thought Jagatsingh said, ‘A fortnight from today, you can meet me here at this same temple at night. If you do not see me here, it means we shall never ever meet again.’

  ‘May the gods protect you,’ said Bimala, bowing again. After another irascibly yearning glance at the young woman, the prince leapt on to his horse and disappeared.

  Chapter Three

  Mughals and Pathans

  JAGATSINGH BEGAN HIS journey from the temple of Shiva at night. For the moment I am unable to satisfy the gentle reader’s curiosity by pursuing him on his way or by providing information about the enchantress within the temple. In order to explain why the Rajput Jagatsingh was visiting Bengal or why, indeed, he was travelling alone through that open stretch of land, it is necessary to briefly describe certain political events of that era in Bengal. Impatient readers may abandon these accounts, but the author’s opinion is that impatience is not advisable.

  After Bakhtiyar Khilji established Muhammadan rule by conquering Bengal, Muslim kings ruled the state unopposed for several centuries. In the Islamic year 972*, the renowned sultan Babar defeated Ibrahim Lodi, the Emperor of Delhi, in a battle for the throne; but Bengal did not come under the rule of the descendants of Timur Lang immediately.

  Before Akbar’s reign, which marked the pinnacle of the Mughal dynasty, Bengal had been ruled by independent Pathan kings. In an ill-advised move, the foolish Daud Khan trod on the sleeping lion’s tail; as a consequence he was defeated by Akbar’s general Monaim Khan and dethroned. In 982, Daud fled to Utkal** with his retinue; Bengal was annexed by the Mughal empire. But after the Pathans had established themselves in Utkal, the Mughals found it difficult to uproot them. In 986, however, Khan Jahan Khan, representative of the Emperor of Delhi, defeated the Pathans for the second time and brought the Utkal kingdom under the rule of his master. But this victory was followed by yet another uprising. The new system of tax collection instituted by Akbar Shah made all landowners bristle with dissatisfaction. Each of them took up arms to protect their authority over their respective realms. With a violent revolt brewing against the emperor, Utkal’s Pathans reared their heads once again, and, establishing one of their own—named Katlu Khan—as their ruler, proclaimed independent status for their state. Midnapore was also added to their kingdom.

  Neither the competent royal representative Khan Azeem, nor Shahbaz Khan after him, succeeded in wresting the lost kingdom back from the hands of the enemy. Eventually a Hindu warrior was dispatched to accomplish this difficult feat.

  Intelligent as well as wise, Akbar was far more astute in every respect than his predecessors. He had developed the conviction that native affairs of a state were best conducted by natives—that foreigners could not perform them as competently. He believed, too, that in their aptitude for war or for administration, the Rajputs were head and shoulders above the rest. Thus he always appointed native Indians, specifically Rajputs, for important administrative tasks.

  Among the Rajputs who held high positions at the time of these events, was Mansingh. He was the brother of none other than Akbar’s son Salim’s wife. When Azim Khan and Shahbaz Khan both proved unequal to the task of conquering Utkal, Akbar installed this illustrious figure as governor of Bengal and Bihar.

  Arriving in the city of Patna in 996, Mansingh first quelled all the other small rebellions. Desirous of victory in Utkal, he departed for that region the following year. With the intention of establishing his residence in Patna, he had appointed Syed Khan his representative for ruling Bengal. Entrusted with this responsibility, Syed Khan was stationed in the city of Tanda, the capital of Bengal at the time. Venturing forth in anticipation of more battles, Mansingh invited his representative to join him. He wrote to Syed Khan, informing him that he wanted to meet him with his troops at Bardhaman.

  Arriving at Bardhaman, however, the king discovered that Syed Khan had not arrived. He had only sent a message through a herald, to the effect that he was likely to be considerably delayed amassing troops; in fact, the monsoon would be upon them before he could prepare his army. Therefore, if King Mansingh would deign to maintain his camp at Bardhaman, occupying it till the end of the monsoon, Syed Khan would appear in his royal presence, accompanied by his soldiers. Accepting this suggestion since he was left with no alternative, King Mansingh established camp by the Darukeshwar river and proceeded to wait for Syed Khan.

  During his sojourn there, the king was informed by messengers that his inactivity had emboldened Katlu Khan to approach Mandaran with his troops in order to plunder and pillage. Worried, the king decided it was necessary to dispatch one of his senior generals to investigate the location of the enemy, their motives, their activities, and so on. His favourite son Jagatsingh had accompanied Mansingh to battle. Learning of his eagerness to perform this daring act, the king sent him towards the enemy ranks, accompanied by a hundred members of his cavalry. Accomplishing his task swiftly, the prince was on his way back. The esteemed reader has already been acquainted with him during his return to his own camp.

  *1564 Common Era.

  **Orissa.

  Chapter Four

  The Young General

  WHEN JAGATSINGH ARRIVED at his
father’s camp after leaving the temple, King Mansingh learnt from his son that nearly fifty thousand Pathan soldiers had set up camp near the village of Dharpur and were plundering the villages, more or less unhindered, having constructed or occupied fortresses in several places. Mansingh realized that the villainous Pathans had to be subjugated immediately, but also that it would prove to be an arduous task. Summoning all his accompanying generals to determine the course of action, he said, ‘Every passing day one more village, one more district is slipping out the hands of the Emperor of Delhi. These Pathans must be made to submit at once, but how will that be possible? They are more numerous in strength than we are; moreover, they have built fortifications to protect themselves. Even if we were to defeat them in battle, we will not succeed in annihilating or even displacing them; they will survive easily within their fortresses. But consider, were we to be defeated on the battlefield, we would have no protection from the enemy, who would certainly slaughter us. Such foolhardiness will mean much damage to the Emperor of Delhi’s army, destroying all hope of conquering Orissa. It would be politic to await Syed Khan’s arrival with reinforcements. On the other hand, the enemy must be brought under our control with utmost urgency. What is your counsel, gentlemen?’

  The experienced generals advised in unison that for now, it was their duty to await the arrival of Syed Khan. ‘I intend not to risk the obliteration of our entire army, but to dispatch a small number of soldiers under an able general to engage with the enemy,’ declared King Mansingh.

  ‘Your Highness! When we fear to send large contingents of our soldiers, what can a small number possibly accomplish?’ enquired an experienced Mughal general.

  ‘I do not wish to send a small force into open battle,’ answered Mansingh. ‘However, remaining under cover will enable it to overcome some of the Pathan groups engaged in tormenting villagers.’