Brothers at War

Chapter 25

‘Humayun Padishah! Long live Emperor Humayun!’The cries of the citizens of Lahore rang out all around as, one warm late February day in 1555, Humayun and Akbar made their triumphal entry into the city in a gilded howdah atop a tall elephant, whose long saddle cloth embroidered with golden thread and set with pearls swept the dust of the city’s wide streets.At the head of the procession was a squadron of Humayun’s best cavalry, all riding on black horses and all wearing turbans of gold-coloured cloth. The afternoon sun glinted on the steel points of the long lances they held vertically as they rode. Behind them, just in front of Humayun, six mounted trumpeters and six drummers with small kettledrums on either side of their saddlebows played with skill and vigour. Their music, together with the roar of the crowd, made it difficult for Humayun to hear Akbar’s words.

‘Father, ever since we left Kabul we have fought only skirmishes. All the major fortresses like Rohtas have surrendered at our approach and now this great city of Lahore has too. How much further can we go into Hindustan without a real battle?’

‘Not far, I think. We’ll soon be entering what were the heartlands of Sher Shah’s and Islam Shah’s dominions. The three contenders for their throne will have heard of our advance and will know that we — the rightful rulers of Hindustan — are a greater threat than any of their fellow pretenders. One or all of them will turn aside from their squabbles to attack us.’

‘D’you think they will unite against us?’

‘Possibly, but the amount of death and destruction they have inflicted on each other makes that unlikely. However, each will be a formidable opponent in his own right.’

‘How long will we stay in Lahore?’

‘Only long enough to have the chief mullah proclaim me emperor once more by reading the khutba — the sermon — in my name at the Friday service in the mosque. Look, you can see its two tall minarets over there through the palm trees. We need to keep up the impetus of our advance. Too often I’ve delayed and let my opponents seize the initiative.’

Two weeks later, as, shrouded in early morning mist, his troops were lighting their cooking fires to prepare their early meal, Humayun sat with his military council around him in his scarlet tent at the centre of his camp. Since leaving Lahore eight days earlier, he and his army had advanced ninety miles southeast, ever deeper into Hindustan across the featureless, red plains.

‘You are certain, Ahmed Khan, that the forces of Adil Shah are heading east across our line of march?’

‘Yes. Five days ago they had the worst of another encounter with the army of their rival Sekunder Shah and now they are hastening towards their stronghold in the fortress of Sundarnagar to regather their strength.’

‘How far away are they?’

‘Perhaps eight miles ahead of us, Majesty.’

‘How many of them are there?’

‘Ten thousand or so, nearly all mounted. They have abandoned most of their cannon and heavy equipment.’

‘Do they have pickets and outriders posted?’

‘Only a very few, Majesty; they are in too much disorder. They paused merely for a few hours overnight to snatch some sleep and were in the saddle again before dawn. Their minds seem concentrated only on reaching Sundarnagar as speedily as possible.’

‘Then let us attack immediately, taking advantage of the cover of the mist while it lasts. Tell the men to douse their cooking fires. There is no time to eat. We will take mounted cavalry and archers. Also, order some of the cavalrymen to take musketeers up behind them on their horses.You, Bairam Khan, will remain with Akbar in charge of the camp. Ensure you establish good defences and post pickets. I expect to win but the camp must be strongly protected in case Adil Shah evades us or for any reason secures a temporary advantage.’

Two hours later, the mist had entirely evaporated. Humayun — who had ridden a mile or so ahead of his advancing main force with Ahmed Khan and a party of his scouts — looked over the low mud wall of a small village inhabited by a few poor farmers and their goats and chickens. Shielding his eyes with his hands against the sun’s glare, he saw about three-quarters of a mile away a large cloud of dust billowing as it crossed from right to left in front of him. Within the dust cloud, Humayun could just distinguish the shapes of riders and a few small baggage wagons pulled by mules or oxen. Two large banners fluttered at the head of the column. At this distance and through the dust, Humayun found it difficult to make out their colour, let alone any device on them, but it could only be Adil Shah’s forces.They had no scouts posted and appeared as yet oblivious of any danger.

‘Send orders back to Nadim Khwaja to take his division of cavalry and attack the rear. Tell Zahid Beg to bring his men here and I will lead them in an attack on the vanguard. Additionally, let those horsemen who have musketeers with them ride straightaway to within a hundred yards of the enemy line of march and there let the musketeers add to our opponents’ discomfort.’

Soon, Humayun’s musketeers were dismounting to place their long muskets on their firing tripods and Humayun and his troops were almost on Adil Shah’s vanguard. At the last moment their opponents had suddenly become aware of them and were turning to face them, unsheathing their weapons as they did so. Officers were shouting orders to close ranks and to prepare to receive the attacks. Almost immediately, Humayun’s musketeers fired their first volley, which knocked some of Adil Shah’s men from their saddles and wounded and panicked some of their horses.

Moments later, Humayun at the head of his cavalry thudded into their vanguard. His first action was to cut down one of the two banner holders with a sword swipe to the head. As the man fell backwards, he dropped his great banner, which Humayun could now see was orange with a gold sun on it. The long cloth twisted around the legs of Humayun’s black horse and it stumbled. Humayun, caught off balance as he leaned from the saddle to aim a sword stroke at the second banner carrier, fell. As he landed on the hard ground, his sword was knocked from his grasp.

Another of Adil Shah’s men, a stocky officer wearing a domed helmet with an orange plume, reacted more swiftly than Humayun’s bodyguard. He kicked his chestnut horse towards Humayun and attempted to impale him on his long lance. Humayun rolled quickly away, throwing off his gauntlet as he did so and trying to extract his dagger from its jewelled scabbard hanging at his waist. After what seemed an age, he tugged it free and threw the foot-long weapon with all his force at the throat of the horse of his opponent, who was attempting to ride him down once more. The point of the dagger hit its mark and the horse, bleeding profusely, staggered and collapsed, throwing its rider, who hit the earth with a thump.

Humayun was by now on his feet and rushed over to the winded officer, who had lost his helmet in the fall. Humayun grabbed him round his thick neck as he too attempted to stand. For some seconds they fought as the officer tried to extract himself from Humayun’s headlock. Then he bit hard into the bare flesh of Humayun’s wrist and hand, drawing blood. Humayun relaxed his grip slightly and the officer wrenched his head free.

Half smiling through teeth flecked with Humayun’s blood, he immediately kicked out at Humayun’s groin. But Humayun leaped back and his opponent missed, throwing himself off balance. Humayun swept the man’s trailing leg from beneath him and, as he fell, leaped upon him, landing with his knees on his opponent’s chest. The officer, although winded again, in turn succeeded in kneeing Humayun in the back and dislodging him.They rolled over and over in the dust together until Humayun used his superior strength and agility to get both his hands firmly round his opponent’s neck. Deliberately he pressed his thumbs into the man’s windpipe as hard as he could and twisted his neck sharply. There was a loud crack and slowly the officer’s face suffused with purple and his bulging eyes grew unfocused as he ceased to struggle.Throwing the limp body aside, Humayun scrambled to his feet and retrieved his sword. Grimly he realised that without the training of his wrestling bouts with Bayzid Khan he might not have prevailed. It would have been very difficult in the press of the fight for his bodyguard to protect him once he was unhorsed.

These same bodyguards were by now gathering round and Humayun saw that many of Adil Shah’s men were already fleeing. Others were surrendering. It was still less than an hour since he had first seen Adil Shah’s army, phantoms in the dust, from the shelter of the farmers’ village. Now they were in complete confusion and disarray, as were Adil Shah’s chances of making good his claim to the throne of Hindustan.

‘Pursue our enemies. Capture as many animals and as much equipment as you can. We will need them for the harder fights that surely lie ahead. If you capture Adil Shah show him no mercy, as he showed none to his young nephew.’

Three hours after the battle, some of the troops Humayun had sent in pursuit of his defeated enemy returned. Humayun saw that one of them was leading a horse with a body slung across its back, the arms and legs tied together beneath the animal’s belly. The rider leading the group dismounted and bowed low before Humayun. ‘It’s Adil Shah, Majesty. Members of his bodyguard whom we overtook only two or three miles from here surrendered the body to us. They told us that he had died a short time before from a chest wound inflicted by a musket ball at the beginning of the battle.’

Humayun walked over to the corpse and, pulling the head back, looked into his opponent’s face. Beneath the caked blood and dirt, Adil Shah looked ordinary. Humayun could see no outward trace of the wicked depth of his ambition which had led him to slaughter his sister’s son. Letting Adil Shah’s head drop, he suppressed the temptation welling within him to show his contempt for his enemy by leaving his corpse unburied for the birds and pariah dogs to feed on. Instead, he turned away with a curt instruction, ‘Inter him in an unmarked grave.’

That night, in the quiet of his tent, Humayun offered a silent prayer of thanks. He had eliminated one of the three other major contenders for the throne of Hindustan. But he knew he must not relax. He must retain the initiative and the impetus of his victories, pushing himself and his army to the utmost. Otherwise, his chance to recover his throne and to transform himself from failure to victor might be lost and might never arise again.

The next morning Ahmed Khan’s scouts brought news of a further opportunity. Travellers coming up the road from the south had told them that a small army led by two of Tartar Khan’s generals was about five days’ ride away, heading north in their direction. Its apparent aim was to confront Adil Shah of whose defeat they were as yet ignorant. Realising that he had a great chance to inflict a serious blow on the second of the contenders for the throne of Hindustan and in all probability remove him too from contention, Humayun immediately ordered his men to move south to attack Tartar Khan’s army.

A week later, Humayun surveyed another battlefield. Riding hard, his troops had come up with their enemy earlier that day and had found that their opponents were travelling in two distinct divisions separated by at least a mile. Neither group numbered more than four thousand men. Humayun had straightaway ordered an attack on the leading division, which had quickly broken under the impact and scattered across the plain. Rather than riding to the aid of their stricken comrades, the second division had retreated and occupied a defensive position on a nearby small hill, which Humayun’s troops had swiftly encircled.

At this moment, Humayun could see a group of officers conferring on the hilltop. Turning to Ahmed Khan at his side, he asked, ‘Do we know who the general of that division is?’

‘Majesty, during the recent battle the commander of a squadron of cavalry surrendered almost immediately and told us that he and his men wished to serve you. We put his men under guard and confined him to one of our tents where he volunteered much information about the make-up of our enemy’s army and its morale. He is sure to know.’

‘Bring him to me.’

A few minutes later, two of Ahmed Khan’s men appeared leading a tall man of about thirty with a neatly trimmed black beard. To forestall any possibility of his attacking Humayun they had shackled his ankles so closely that he could only shuffle forwards. When he was within a few yards of Humayun he threw himself on the ground.

After a moment Humayun spoke. ‘Help him up.’ Then he asked, ‘Who are you?’

‘Mustapha Ergun, a Turkish officer in the service of Tartar Khan.’

‘I understand you wish to transfer your allegiance to me.’

‘My hundred men also.’

‘Why?’

‘We joined Tartar Khan in search of booty and of position if he became Padishah of Hindustan. But we have found he is not serious about pursuing this ambition. While he loitered on the borders of Gujarat in the arms of his concubines, he despatched us on this tentative expedition against the weaker of his fellow contenders, Adil Shah. He didn’t even provide us with enough men, weapons or equipment to do our job properly and our pay is three months in arrears. We believe that you are serious in your ambition to regain the imperial throne and that when you succeed you will reward us generously.’

‘I remember well the esteem in which my father held his Turkish gunners. I too have been served well by officers from other nations. Bairam Khan here joined me from the army of the Shah of Persia. But how can I be sure of your sincerity?’

‘We are prepared to swear our loyalty to you on the Holy Book — or let us lead the attack in your next battle to prove ourselves.’

‘I will consider both offers, but I pose you this initial test. Go to the other division of your army who sit surrounded on that hill. Persuade them to surrender. I extend to them the following terms — either to depart unmolested retaining their personal weapons but leaving behind their heavy equipment or — like you — to volunteer to join my forces. If they do not surrender, I may take up your offer to lead the next attack, which will be on them. Do you accept my proposition?’

‘Yes, Majesty.’

‘Strike off his shackles.’

A quarter of an hour later, Mustapha Ergun rode out from Humayun’s camp accompanied by ten of his men. When he reached the hill on which his comrades were drawn up, they opened a gap in their lines to receive him. Humayun could see him and his men ride to the top of the barren hill to talk to the officers congregated there. Soon the knot of men broke up and individual officers seemed to be consulting their men.There were occasional outbursts of cheering before the gap in the front line reopened and Mustapha Ergun with his ten soldiers behind him re-emerged and rode back down to Humayun’s position.

Two of Humayun’s bodyguards placed themselves on either side of him as, smiling, he approached Humayun, who had Bairam Khan and Akbar at his side. ‘What success have you had?’

‘No more blood will be spilled, Majesty. The division on the hill is commanded by a Gujarati prince named Selim and two-thirds of his troops are Gujaratis enlisted by Tartar Khan when he first decided to pursue the imperial throne. They’re tired of this campaign and wish to return home and are prepared to accept your conditions for doing so.’

‘Good. And the other third?’

‘A mixed bunch from many places. Some are mere boys who joined our ranks as we passed through their villages from a desire for adventure, most of whom now want nothing more than to preserve their lives. Others are hardened soldiers of fortune like ourselves, including one hundred musketeers from my own country under the command of an old comrade of mine, Kemil Attak, and about the same number of Persians, recruited to man the few small cannon we have with us. Both these two groups wish to join you with their weapons, as we do ourselves.’

‘You have done well. I accept your offer of service and that of your men and I will accept those of the other volunteers, provided like you their officers convince me of their sincerity.’ Then, turning to Bairam Khan, he said, ‘Each victory brings us nearer to our goal. But we cannot falter or all we have achieved so far will be lost. This evening we will feast to celebrate our victory and to welcome our new comrades-in-arms but tomorrow we will march to vanquish the last of the pretenders to my throne, Sekunder Shah. He is the best leader and his army is the largest of the three. His governor occupies Delhi and he himself sits with his army across the road to the capital. Our greatest battle is to come.’

Later that night, as the sounds of merriment and raucous singing echoed around the camp, Humayun left the celebrations. For a moment he stopped and gazed at the stars sprinkling the black velvet of the night but then he walked slowly back to his tent. A waiting guard lifted the flap and Humayun entered and sat at a low table. Taking a pen he dipped it into the jade inkpot and by the light of a flickering oil lamp started to write a letter to Hamida to be handed to a post messenger in the morning to begin its long journey back to Kabul. He wrote that he and Akbar were safe, of his love for her and of his certainty that he would soon sit once more on the throne of Hindustan.

The air was hot and still and as Humayun looked across from his vantage point on a low sandstone hill he saw that dark clouds were piling up on the far horizon as they always did in the afternoon in early summer as the monsoon approached. It was nearly a month since his defeat of Tartar Khan’s generals. In that time he had turned east in pursuit of the forces of Sekunder Shah who, according to his scouts, had a quarter of a million men in his main army — a number which considerably exceeded Humayun’s forces even though they had now grown to over a hundred thousand.

Humayun had quickly realised that to be certain of victory he needed to erode his enemies’ numerical advantage before taking them on in the open field. Therefore, a fortnight previously he had despatched a raiding force under Bairam Khan to ride hard and light to harass his enemies’ outposts and to disrupt their communications with Delhi. Now he could see Bairam Khan’s troops returning across the dry plains. Messengers had already reported that they had had some successes, but he needed to hear from Bairam Khan’s lips their extent and what more he and his men had learned about their enemies’ strength and future plans.

Too eager for news to wait for Bairam Khan to come to him, Humayun called his bodyguard to him and, kicking his black horse into a gallop, set off down the hill towards Bairam Khan’s column. An hour later, beneath the limited shade provided by a solitary tree, he and Bairam Khan were sitting on a red and blue carpet spread with cushions.

‘Our successes in our raids were hard won, Majesty. Unlike our other opponents, Sekunder Shah’s men are disciplined. Even when surprised and outnumbered they did not panic or flee but closed ranks and battled hard, sometimes inflicting heavy casualties on us before we finally prevailed.’

‘As we feared, they make powerful opponents. What did you learn of Sekunder Shah’s movements?’

‘He is concentrating his main forces in the vicinity of a town called Sirhind on the south bank of one of the branches of the Sutlej river before making his next move. According to a despatch some of our men found on one of a party of Sekunder Shah’s messengers they captured three days ago, he has called for further reinforcements from Delhi and is expecting a large detachment of them to arrive within the next ten days bringing with them extra money to pay his other troops as well as more equipment.’

‘You are sure the message was genuine?’

‘It has Sekunder Shah’s seal on it, look. . ’

Bairam Khan unfastened the worn brown leather satchel he had looped across his chest, took out a large folded sheet of paper with a red wax seal on it and held it out to Humayun.

‘It certainly looks the real thing, but could it have been planted as some kind of ruse?’

‘I don’t think so, Majesty. The group of our men who captured the messengers were a scouting party operating well away — perhaps forty miles further east from my main force. They said that the messengers were galloping hard when they came upon them rather than loitering as they might have been if looking to be taken. When I spoke to them, Sekunder Shah’s men gave a good impression of being surprised and humbled to be captured. If they were acting, they were playing their parts to perfection.’

‘In that case, let us strain every sinew to intercept the reinforcements and seize the money and weapons. Send scouts out immediately to cover all possible approach routes.’

‘Majesty, their pickets have warned them of our presence,’ a slightly breathless Ahmed Khan told Humayun. ‘They have halted and drawn themselves into a defensive position about two miles away over the crest of that ridge, in and around a small village whose inhabitants fled at their approach. They are positioning their men behind the village’s mud walls and are overturning their wagons to form extra barricades.’

‘How many of them are there?’

‘About five thousand, mostly horsemen including some with muskets, protecting a large baggage train. They’ve also got quite a few small cannon with them.’

‘Now we’ve lost any chance of surprising them, our best hope is to attack before they can complete their preparations. Have Bairam Khan ready our men.’

Ninety minutes later, Humayun stood on the top of the ridge above the village and watched as the first wave of his men led by Bairam Khan himself charged the barricades behind which Sekunder Shah’s men were drawn up. There was a loud crash as Sekunder Shah’s cannon fired. Several of Bairam Khan’s men fell. A crackle of musketry followed which emptied more saddles. More fell from a second wave of cannon fire before they could reach the barricades, but still Bairam Khan’s men rode on.

‘Look, Father, isn’t that Mustapha Ergun at the head of the line over there?’ shouted Akbar.

Humayun followed his son’s pointing hand and saw through the white smoke drifting across the village his new recruit leaping one of the mud walls on his bay horse, followed closely by some of his men. Elsewhere, Humayun could see that a number of his other cavalry had come under such heavy fire and taken so many casualties that they were retreating, leaving bodies of men and horses strewn in front of the makeshift fortifications thrown up by Sekunder Shah’s men.

Then Humayun saw Bairam Khan gesturing to a detachment of his men previously held in reserve. They galloped to the area of the barricades where Mustapha Ergun and his troops had made a breach and swiftly followed them into the enemy camp. Once inside, they began attacking their opponents’ positions from the rear. For several minutes the horsemen, locked in combat, swayed back and forth, but slowly Humayun’s men were beginning to seize the upper hand as more and more reinforcements poured over the barricades despite suffering continuing casualties from Sekunder Shah’s resolute musketeers. Inch by inch the defenders were being herded into a small portion of their original position. Suddenly a group of Sekunder Shah’s horsemen broke out from the mass of their closely packed comrades and fought their way to a gap in the barricades before beginning to gallop determinedly in the direction in which Sekunder Shah’s main army lay.

‘We must stop them,’ shouted Humayun. ‘Follow me!’

Head bent low over his horse’s neck and with Akbar at his side, Humayun galloped after the riders. Led by a thick-set officer wearing a steel breastplate, they were maintaining cohesion and formation, seemingly bent on alerting Sekunder Shah as soon as possible to the fate of their comrades rather than on simply preserving their lives.

Slowly Humayun and his men gained on the group.When they were within arrow shot, Humayun grabbed his bow and quiver from his back. Standing in his stirrups with his reins clenched in his teeth he fired at the officer. He missed by inches, his arrow embedding itself in the man’s saddle. However, before he could fit another arrow to his string, the officer slid from his horse, an arrow in his neck. His foot caught in his stirrup and he was dragged for a while — head bumping along the stony ground — behind his frightened, galloping mount before the stirrup broke. Then he rolled over twice and lay still. Humayun realised it was Akbar who had fired the fatal arrow. Others of Sekunder Shah’s men had also fallen from their horses.

‘Well done!’ Humayun shouted to his son, ‘but stay back now.’

Humayun kicked his horse into a gallop once more and headed after the remaining dozen or so riders. Soon he was up with the hindmost of them, who was desperately urging his sweat-soaked, blowing pony onwards. Seeing Humayun he half raised his round shield but he was too late. Humayun’s sharp sword caught him across the back of his neck beneath his helmet. His blood gushed crimson and he crashed to the hard ground.

Humayun did not look back but galloped after the only one of the riders who had not been overtaken and engaged by one of his men and was still in the saddle riding hard. He was a fine, fluid rider mounted on a speedy black horse whose hooves kicked up pebbles as they pounded the ground. It was all Humayun could do to gain on him even though his horse was fresher. Finally Humayun and three of his bodyguard drew alongside the rider, who aimed a stroke with his scimitar at one of the bodyguards. The man managed to get his arm up to protect his head but received a deep wound to his forearm and fell back from the fight. However, in striking at the bodyguard the horseman exposed himself to a thrust from Humayun which penetrated his thigh and he too fell, leaving his horse to gallop off alone.

Reining in his own horse and turning in his saddle, Humayun saw that all the break-out party were accounted for, and most important of all Akbar was safe. As they rode back towards the main battle around the village, Humayun could see that in most places the combat was over. There was still some fighting going on around a group of mud huts. The thatched roof of one was burning, perhaps set ablaze by a spark from a musket or cannon or perhaps ignited deliberately by his men to flush out their opponents. However, as he came closer Humayun saw that this fight too had ceased and the remaining defenders had thrown down their arms.

Four hours later, dark, almost purple clouds were filling the sky and a hot breeze had sprung up — the monsoon would start any day soon, thought Humayun, perhaps even this very afternoon. Turning to Akbar, who was standing by his side beneath the awning of his scarlet command tent, he put his arm round his son’s shoulders. ‘I’ve always prided myself on my skill as an archer, but your shot that brought down the officer was exceptional.’

‘Thank you, but it was probably a fluke.’

‘I think not — I’ve seen you practise. . ’ Humayun paused and squeezed his son’s shoulder. ‘Good shot as it was and glad as I was that you made it, I should have ordered you not to accompany me when I chased after those riders. Lucky arrow shots might have killed us both, destroying my hopes for our family’s destiny as well as causing your mother immense grief. In future we must remain separated on the battlefield, and I am afraid you must stay in the rear.’

‘But Father. . ’ Akbar began, then let his words trail away as he saw the determination in his father’s eyes and realised the logic in his words.

‘Enough of this. Here come our officers, led by Bairam Khan, to discuss our next move.’ Humayun turned back into the tent where cushions had been placed in a semicircle round his throne for his commanders and a gilded stool had been set up for Akbar immediately to the right of his place. Once they were all assembled, Humayun asked,‘What were our casualties?’

‘Two hundred men killed, at least, and over six hundred injured, many badly, including several of Mustapha Ergun’s Turks who first got behind the barricades.’

‘Mustapha Ergun and his men did well. When we divide the booty we must double their share, but before we can allocate rewards we must know the extent of our capture.’

‘Two large chests of gold coin,’ said Bairam Khan, ‘and five of silver designed to pay Sekunder Shah’s troops. Their loss will disappoint his men and may affect their commitment to his cause.’

‘We can only hope it does. What military equipment did we acquire?’

‘Two bullock carts loaded with wooden cases of new muskets and their powder and bullets. Two new medium-sized bronze cannon and ten smaller ones. Sekunder Shah’s men managed to destroy six more by exploding excess powder in their barrels. There are also boxes of swords and battleaxes as well as three thousand five hundred horses and some oxen and other pack animals. All in all, a welcome and substantial contribution to our supplies and an equally substantial loss for Sekunder Shah.’

‘How many of his men did we capture?’

‘About four thousand. The rest were killed. What should we do with the prisoners, Majesty?’

‘Hold them for forty-eight hours then allow any who are prepared to swear on the Holy Book that they will fight no more to depart south on foot without their weapons. Now let us turn to planning our final victory over Sekunder Shah. What do you think our next move should be, Zahid Beg?’

‘The monsoon is imminent. We cannot campaign satisfactorily during it — our baggage trains and artillery will scarcely be able to move. We should encamp while sending scouts south to keep the main routes between Sekunder Shah and Delhi under observation, and then when the monsoon ceases.. ’

‘No,’ Humayun interrupted, ‘I will not let the monsoon stop us. That is what Sekunder Shah will expect. The prize of the throne of Hindustan is too great. It has been lost to me too long. Now is no time to hold back. If we press on to attack him at once we will have the advantage of surprise. Too often in the past I’ve delayed and lost the initiative. It will not be so this time. Ahmed Khan, how far away is Sekunder Shah’s main force? How many days’ march will it take us to come up with them?’

‘They are still encamped at Sirhind on the Sutlej, about a hundred miles east of here, perhaps ten days’ march for the army with its baggage. Our spies report they seem to be well established there and preparing to see out the monsoon in comfort before making their next move.’

‘Well, they’re in for a shock.’