Empire of the Moghul: The Serpent's Tooth by Alex Rutherford Page A

the plainest garments.
    ‘Very well.’ At the relief on Jahanara’s young face he felt regret for causing her anxiety, yet he couldn’t help himself. Since Mumtaz’s death it was as if a barrier had sprung up between himself and the rest of the world, including his family, whom he knew he loved. Even now he was wishing Jahanara would go away and leave him to his thoughts, but it seemed she had more to say.
    ‘Father, there’s something you should know. A few days ago Aurangzeb came to me in great distress. A mullah had told him that God had taken our mother away because you are a bad Muslim who flouts Islamic law by employing Hindus and other non-Muslims at your court. I told Aurangzeb that the mullah was talking nonsense – that you rule as our great-grandfather Akbar did by showing tolerance to all – but he would not be convinced.’
    ‘Perhaps he was right not to be. Maybe the mullah is speaking no more than the truth. These past weeks I’ve asked myself over and over how I could have offended God so badly to be punished in this way. Perhaps I have been too lax, too indulgent towards those of other faiths, like the arrogant Portuguese Jesuits who travel the length and breadth of my empire proclaiming that they alone have God’s ear. They are corrupt, and venal as well. Remember how they expelled us from their settlement on the Hooghly river when we were fugitives, even though your mother was so weak? They acted without the care and compassion they boast is at the heart of their religion because they wanted to gain favour with my father and Mehrunissa. I’ve often thought of them over the years but now I’ve acted. Two weeks ago I despatched soldiers to expel the priests from their settlement and to burn their buildings down so that they cannot return. I am also thinking of forbidding the construction of further Hindu temples in my cities.’
    ‘What?’ Jahanara looked stunned, and it was a moment or two before she could gather her words. ‘Father, expel the foreign priests if you must – they have done something to deserve it – but don’t turn on your loyal subjects just because they are of a different religion. Your own mother, your grandmother, were Rajput princesses. Hindu blood flows in your veins and mine. What’s more, your Hindu subjects have done nothing to offend you and they share in our grief … Think of the messages of condolence we have received. The courts of Amber and Mewar and Marwar mourned with us, observing the forty days as strictly as we did ourselves. Don’t repay them by restricting their religious freedoms … It isn’t just.’
    Shah Jahan stared at his daughter as if seeing her properly for the first time. Her strained expression, the passion in her voice, told him she was speaking from the heart. And there was so much of Mumtaz in her – she had her mother’s courage and her gentle persistence. Even her tone was so like Mumtaz’s that for a moment, if he closed his eyes, he could imagine that his wife was still with him. The thought brought pain but also consolation of a kind.
    ‘Perhaps you are right. I will think further before I act. But in return I’ve something to ask. I’ve decided to send your mother’s body back to Agra for temporary burial until the tomb I will build there is ready to receive her. The golden casket I ordered will arrive in two or three days’ time and there’s no reason to delay any longer. My mind will be easier knowing she has returned to rest in the place she loved. I can’t leave the Deccan myself until I have beaten my enemies, so I’d like you and Dara to accompany the funeral cortège. As you reminded me once before, as my eldest son and daughter it is fitting.’

    Shah Jahan charged at the head of his men towards a large squadron of Bijapuran horsemen. He had encountered them as they crossed in front of his own forces on one of his sweeps of the countryside. At the urging of his officers he had reluctantly re-joined his forces