Akbar in surprise.
“Her name is Mehrunnisa, your Majesty,” Ruqayya called out from behind the screen.
“Ah, yes. Mehrunnisa. It is a good name,” Akbar said. Heturned to Ghias. “There is a brave young man at court named Ali Quli Khan.”
“I remember the soldier well, your Majesty,” Ghias replied cautiously. So this was why the Emperor had commanded his presence.
“We have decided to honor him, Ghias. And what better way to do so than to give him the hand of your daughter in marriage? It will be a good alliance. You are both Persian and share the same ancestry and history. We wish for the marriage to take place.”
“Yes, your Majesty.”
He knew that the Emperor’s wishes were as good as a command. There was nothing to do but agree. His search for an appropriate bridegroom for his darling Mehrunnisa was over. Ali Quli had impressed Ghias on the day he had been presented at court. Pushing aside doubts that suddenly and involuntarily came rushing to his mind, Ghias bowed his head.
“I shall immediately start proceedings for the marriage, your Majesty.”
• • •
G HIAS RODE HOME in the gathering dusk, thinking of his audience with the Emperor. As his horse ambled down the well-known path home, Ghias let his mind wander again as it had done all day since his morning audience with the Emperor. He did not doubt the matter had been instigated, at least in part, by the Padshah Begam Ruqayya. She had betrayed her interest by speaking up in court. Surely the Empress would want the best for his daughter? Around Ghias, the twilight was tinted gray-blue with smoke from cooking fires. The spicy tang of wood smoke brought sudden memories of the day he had stood at the base of the tree where he had left Mehrunnisa, thinking he would never see his daughter again. Now, after all these years, she was to leave him again.
The evening call for prayer, the fourth of the day, rang from atop the mosques around Lahore as Ghias entered the front courtyard ofhis house. In an inner courtyard, Asmat and their children were already on their knees, facing west toward Mecca. Ghias dismounted, threw the reins to the waiting groom, and hurried in to join them.
They lifted their hands in prayer and silently mouthed the sacred verses, bowing to the ground at the end. Ghias watched as Mehrunnisa, Khadija, Manija, and Shahpur rose from their knees and walked inside the house. Darkness was falling fast, and the servants moved around noiselessly, lighting oil lamps inside the house and in the courtyard. He called out to Asmat.
She came to him, the bells of her anklets jingling as she walked. “Why were you late today? The call for prayer has already been made.”
“I had an interesting audience with the Emperor.”
Asmat looked at him questioningly.
“He has commanded our daughter for Ali Quli.”
Asmat sat down on the stone bench in the garden. “Who is he?”
“A soldier, a very brave soldier, who helped the Khan-i-khanan in his conquest of Thatta.” Ghias hesitated before adding, “Ali Quli is from Persia, like us, and he was a safarchi to Shah Ismail II.”
Asmat’s eyebrows met in a frown. She was silent for some time, and then said slowly, “Then he must be considerably older than Mehrunnisa.”
“Asmat, the Emperor has commanded us.” Ghias took her hand. “I saw Ali Quli presented at court. He has distinguished himself in battle and is now a favorite of the Emperor. By asking for Mehrunnisa, the Emperor is doing us a great honor. He wants the two Persian families to be united.”
“But a common soldier, Ghias,” Asmat protested. “What would he know of the classics, and poetry, and music? Would he be the right choice for a daughter we have so carefully reared, one who is so proficient in the literary arts, so well educated and so . . . delicate?”
“Asmat.” Ghias turned to her. “It will be a good alliance. I amsure Ali Quli will be kind to Mehrunnisa, that he will look after her well.
“Her name is Mehrunnisa, your Majesty,” Ruqayya called out from behind the screen.
“Ah, yes. Mehrunnisa. It is a good name,” Akbar said. Heturned to Ghias. “There is a brave young man at court named Ali Quli Khan.”
“I remember the soldier well, your Majesty,” Ghias replied cautiously. So this was why the Emperor had commanded his presence.
“We have decided to honor him, Ghias. And what better way to do so than to give him the hand of your daughter in marriage? It will be a good alliance. You are both Persian and share the same ancestry and history. We wish for the marriage to take place.”
“Yes, your Majesty.”
He knew that the Emperor’s wishes were as good as a command. There was nothing to do but agree. His search for an appropriate bridegroom for his darling Mehrunnisa was over. Ali Quli had impressed Ghias on the day he had been presented at court. Pushing aside doubts that suddenly and involuntarily came rushing to his mind, Ghias bowed his head.
“I shall immediately start proceedings for the marriage, your Majesty.”
• • •
G HIAS RODE HOME in the gathering dusk, thinking of his audience with the Emperor. As his horse ambled down the well-known path home, Ghias let his mind wander again as it had done all day since his morning audience with the Emperor. He did not doubt the matter had been instigated, at least in part, by the Padshah Begam Ruqayya. She had betrayed her interest by speaking up in court. Surely the Empress would want the best for his daughter? Around Ghias, the twilight was tinted gray-blue with smoke from cooking fires. The spicy tang of wood smoke brought sudden memories of the day he had stood at the base of the tree where he had left Mehrunnisa, thinking he would never see his daughter again. Now, after all these years, she was to leave him again.
The evening call for prayer, the fourth of the day, rang from atop the mosques around Lahore as Ghias entered the front courtyard ofhis house. In an inner courtyard, Asmat and their children were already on their knees, facing west toward Mecca. Ghias dismounted, threw the reins to the waiting groom, and hurried in to join them.
They lifted their hands in prayer and silently mouthed the sacred verses, bowing to the ground at the end. Ghias watched as Mehrunnisa, Khadija, Manija, and Shahpur rose from their knees and walked inside the house. Darkness was falling fast, and the servants moved around noiselessly, lighting oil lamps inside the house and in the courtyard. He called out to Asmat.
She came to him, the bells of her anklets jingling as she walked. “Why were you late today? The call for prayer has already been made.”
“I had an interesting audience with the Emperor.”
Asmat looked at him questioningly.
“He has commanded our daughter for Ali Quli.”
Asmat sat down on the stone bench in the garden. “Who is he?”
“A soldier, a very brave soldier, who helped the Khan-i-khanan in his conquest of Thatta.” Ghias hesitated before adding, “Ali Quli is from Persia, like us, and he was a safarchi to Shah Ismail II.”
Asmat’s eyebrows met in a frown. She was silent for some time, and then said slowly, “Then he must be considerably older than Mehrunnisa.”
“Asmat, the Emperor has commanded us.” Ghias took her hand. “I saw Ali Quli presented at court. He has distinguished himself in battle and is now a favorite of the Emperor. By asking for Mehrunnisa, the Emperor is doing us a great honor. He wants the two Persian families to be united.”
“But a common soldier, Ghias,” Asmat protested. “What would he know of the classics, and poetry, and music? Would he be the right choice for a daughter we have so carefully reared, one who is so proficient in the literary arts, so well educated and so . . . delicate?”
“Asmat.” Ghias turned to her. “It will be a good alliance. I amsure Ali Quli will be kind to Mehrunnisa, that he will look after her well.
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