Mistress of Men Mistress of Men A Novel By Flora Annie Steel AUTHOR OF "ON THE FACE OF THE WATERS," " MARMADUKE," ETC. New York Frederick A. Stokes Company Publishers 1917 PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN THE MEMORY OF A GREAT WOMAN WHO IN TURNS WAS QUEEN o' WOMEN, LIGHT OF THE HOME, LIGHT OF THE WORLD PREFACE IT is impossible that the life of Nurjahan the Beautiful should r nain unwritten. Of reliable historical incident much is available, of equally reliable tradition still more; the whole going to make up a life marvellous in its romance, touching in its humanity. In this sketch of it I have adhered in all matters of importance to the evidence of contemporaneous witnesses. That I have given a different complexion to them in many cases, I admit; but no careful student of character and motive could avoid doing so. Briefly, Nurjahan's extraordinary personality and power which even in these days would raise criticism in a woman exposed her in the seventeenth century to inevitable traducing. Sinister motives were found for her every action; above all, personal ambition was held to be her ruling motive. This as- sertion is, to my mind, pulverized by the undenied fact that, after her husband, the Emperor Jahangir's, death, she voluntarily retired from all public life and lived a widow indeed. In like manner she is credited with much plotting and planning, of which beyond the statement of her enemies no trace is to be found either in her character or her actions. ^hus, her sudden abandonment of Shahjahan is set down to pusonal pique and greed; but it is curiously coincident with his brother Khushrau's sudden death when in the former's custody; a death suspicious of poison to many, even in those days. I have endeavoured, therefore, to make Nurjahan's character speak for itself; but in no case have I twisted actual events to suit my own estimate of it. So much for the historical part of my task. As to the fictional p rt, I have done nothing save fill up with trifling incidents .e gaps which history and tradition have left between the vii viii PREFACE major occurrences; and, of course, supply the motives which to me, the student, have appeared most likely. All the characters, with the exception of the Strangler, once lived and died, as they are said in this book to have lived and died. For the rest, it has been indeed a labour of love to set down, from personal biography and almost without additions, a record of the most perfect passion ever shown by man for woman. A man of many faults, Jahangir shows himself " the Compleat Lover." And Nurjahan was worthy of his love. Nothing more need be said, except that Jahangir's ruby cup is still famous on the lips of the people. It is said to have had a name engraved around the lip, whether Jahangir's or Nurjahan's, who can say ? It was last heard of in the beginning of the eighteenth century. FLORA ANNIE STEEL. COURT o' HILL, TENBURY. MISTRESS OF MEN BOOK I CHAPTER I A motley crowd, hidden within a grave Such is a seed ; for in it crowd and crave A million claims to life ! Ah ! who decides If it grow fig or thistle? Fool or knave?" THE sobbing cry of a new-born child rose suddenly on the still night. Far away over the grey, undulating sandhills of -the desert a lighter streak on the horizon showed that the dawn was nigh ; but here, beside the rude screen formed of a woman's veil that was drawn between a woman's travail and man's sleep all was dark, save for the faint glimmer of an oil cresset that filtered weakly through the stretched muslin. The man, dozing beside the dying embers of a watch-fire, with a sleeping child in his arms, stirred and yawned. Then came his voice eagerly : " What is't, Dilaram boy or girl?" ' The Prophet's wisdom be thine," was the quick masterful retort. " Will the man not let a body have time to look around?" And after a second's pause the verdict was given. " A girl, master, only a girl." The echo of that fiat may have roused the listening worlds t rejoice in yet another life ; but in this particular one of stress and starvation it only brought dull, acquiescent silence. Only a girl ! There was no more to be said. The new-made father looked up into the fading stars above his head, then at the dim glow here and there on the wide plain which told where the watch-fires of night were turning to dust and ashes, and sighed faintly. 2 MISTRESS OF MEN After a pause, the stretched muslin of the screen parted, and by the light of the cresset behind, the figure of a stalwart, full- breasted woman showed, carrying something huddled in her veil. " A lusty child, master," she remarked approvingly. " Never did I handle a better; but of no use in God's world, when the coffers hold not one farthing for a marriage portion. ' ' She held out her burdened veil for him to see ; but he did not look. His eyes fixed themselves hungrily on the little cheek that cuddled closely to his breast. It was his son's. That mattered ; the other did not. " And the mother?" he asked after a pause. " How goes the Bibi? Is all well?" Dilaram squatted down beside the embers and became gar- rulous. " Well?" she echoed, " what else would she be with this slave as midwife to stand between her and unnecessary anguish ? Lo ! as I told my lord at the beginning, a full dose of the Dream- compeller hath done no harm, but contrariwise good. Bibi Azizan sleeps knowing not she is accursed with a girl yet 'tis a lusty one that will I swear." Despite her praise, even she did not look at what lay in her veil, so none can say if the child's eyes were wide awake, open, ready to take in the light of its new life, or whether they were closed as they had been in the darkness of the old. Either way it made no sound. And those two by the ashes of the fire were silent also. The slow light of dawn was coming faster now, and suddenly the man sighed. The woman rose on the instant and stood beside him, almost menacing, masterful. " The die is cast, meean fee," she said, " and 'tis kindest in the end. Lo ! a pellet of the Dream-Compeller concealed in sugar on the tongue, and this transitory world remains not ; the bud blossoms in Paradise." She paused and her tone became harder. " Sure, at best a woman's life is but poor fare ! How we stomach it God knows ! For my own part I had as lief that my parents had stepped in between me and it at the beginning. And, see you, master, 'tis not as if Bibi Azizan were a cow, as tsre folk are, to give milk on parched grain ! She hath not MISTRESS OF MEN 3 enough food for herself when the two strapping sons have done yelling for it, let alone for a useless girl though by my faith she is a lusty one and a pretty too " " Peace, fool !" interrupted the man hastily; perhaps he did not care to hear more of the doomed infant. " Sure, wisdom and plain figures need not to be made plainer by an ass's bray. The die, I tell you, hath been cast ; another useless mouth would be unfair to these my sons" he glanced down with almost passionate tenderness at the cuddling cheek upon his breast, and the swathed outline of another sleeping child at his feet. ' ' And cruel to the babe herself what hath life to offer to such as she?" There was no answer to his question; it carried decision with it. And now the grey horizon line beyond the sand-waves was changing to primrose, and with the coming of another day the world was beginning to stir. A flight of desert birds winged wedge-shaped into the primrose. Then a yawning man un- happed himself from his blanket, still half asleep, and stumbled to the wide circle of squatting camels which centred the camp. Another and another followed suit, and thereinafter rose strange bubblings and groanings that awakened even the most dreamful of sleepers. All but Bibi Azizan. Behind the veil-screen she slept in a sort of low litter, and by-and-by, when the two boys had been tucked away, as ever, at her feet, and the last camels of the great caravan from Kabul to Hindustan had swayed noiselessly adown the trackless, sandy, eastward desert, Ghiyass-ud-din, the new-made father, and Dilaram, the stal- wart nurse, each shouldered one end of the cross pole and began to sway as noiselessly after them. But not before the latter had made her arrangements. Slipping behind some sparse caper bushes, she scraped a shallow hole with her hand in the sand, that was already warming under the first rays of the rising sun, laid something down in the hollow, and partially covered it with sand as with a blanket, since it might as well be comfortable till the end. Was it something, or was it nothing, that useless, drugged girl baby who might in the years to come have given pleasure to 4 MISTRESS OF MEN some godly man, but who was now, in this time of stress, better out of the way? Dilaram scarcely asked herself the question, and yet there was something in the tiny puckered face appearing like a mask out of the soft sand which made her pause for a second and mutter under her breath : ' ' A lusty one indeed ! Had the good God but given the soul-bit a male body-bit, it might have been a fine fighting man." So she returned to her task of helping the sick mother, the very possibility of anything feminine growing up to be any- thing fine not occurring to her. Small wonder, indeed, when even now, after four centuries of wisdom and progress, few thoughts of future fame or of a future career come to the parents of a female child. In that first glance a father gives his infant son, what wonders does he not see hidden in the cradle ! Field Marshal's batons, titles, distinctions, riches all these. But the face of a little daughter shows only the lines of beauty the beauty which shall give pleasure to a man ! Ghiyass-ud-din, however, had carefully not looked in his daughter's face ; perhaps he feared the sight of it might turn him from what he conceived to be his duty ; for his heart was not so hard as that of Bibi Azizan, his wife, who at the moment was comfortably slipping out of the noose of parental responsi- bility with the aid of opium. But it had all been settled before- hand with infinite and painstaking thought, as everything that Ghiyass-ud-din did invariably was; for precision was with him almost an obsession. Well born, well educated, he had been what nowadays would be called a mathematical professor in Kabul ; but he had fallen upon evil times, and had finally decided on trying his fortune in Hindustan, the land of untold riches. So, almost starving, he had accepted the post of assis- tant invoice-writer to this caravan, and was going through the experience methodically ; for he had added up all advantages, subtracted the disadvantages, and divided out all his duties conscientiously. Even in this problem of life and death, though he regretted the conclusion to which the factors forced him, he MISTRESS OF MEN 5 did not dream of disputing its validity, but, tall, gaunt, bur- dened with a great load of responsibility, plodded on his way after the fast disappearing caravan, leaving the new life to death. Since that first birth-cry the child had not uttered a sound. The pinch of sugar on its tongue, hiding the bitterness of opium, had brought content until the drug had brought unconsciousness. So, in truth, the babe had scarce lived at all, and yet, as with puckered-up little face upturned to the sky it lay placid, it still held the possibility of taking to itself everything in the Great Storehouse of Fate. The sun climbed into the brazen sky, the hills shimmered and grew opalescent in the noonday glare ; and still the child slept on. But had Nurse Dilaram been there to watch the rise and fall of the sand above its breast, she would have marvelled ; for the pellet of the D ream-compel ler she had given should ere this have stilled the breath for ever. Instead, it came quicker, less evenly. A wild honey-bee rifling the coral buds of the caper thorns whose fine fret of shadow tempered the full fierceness of the sun hovered over the wet open mouth as if doubtful if it were not a new kind of flower, then hummed away tunefully to more familiar blossoms. A pair of desert birds hopped round the little upturned face, decided it was not fit to eat, and fluttered away. Finally, when the fretwork of the caper shadows began to blur themselves, a great black cobra crept out of its hole hard by, and finding the sand above the child's breast warmer than the rest, coiled itself there to sleep. And still the child slept on, though the Dream-compeller was losing its hold on the little life, which must wake to face Death. Quaint, indeed, to think of the little soul-bit, in its little woman-body-bit, alone in the desert with all things hanging in the Balance of Fate. Crowns, Kingdoms, Power almost un- limited, Influence unrivalled ! The moon at its full rose at last, turning the lingering Indian day to night rapidly, and the sand-waves passed from opales- cence to pearl once more; so faded sombrely to shadow. 6 MISTRESS OF MEN Hark! what was that? Scarcely a sound. More an air- rhythm; the faintest fall of softest foot upon soft sand. So over the darkening distance a monstrous swaying figure showed ghostly ; it was the figure of a swift riding camel. And it was ridden by a man in a hurry ; for Zaman Shah, Chief Constable and Conveyer of Caravans, who had remained behind at the last camping-place in order to negotiate the transport dues payable to insure safe conduct from the tribesmen, was anxious to overtake his charge. For his was a responsible task, though none was more fitted for it than he, Yusufzai Pathan by birth, who knew all the ins and outs of frontier life. A medium-sized, merry man who could quote Hafiz by the yard, and was the best swordsman that side Delhi. What was it that made him suddenly draw rein, slip from his high-peaked saddle, and stand peering down at his very feet? Possibly it was the big black cobra which had slidden from his camel's tread. Anyhow, he stood staring astonished at an age-long, puckered little face, that stared back at him with large purblind eyes ; for the useless girl had slipped the Noose of Death and taken the Path of Life. Yet still there was no sound, and Zaman Shah whose know- ledge of babies, if superficial, was wide, seeing that he had a wife and family at most of the big halting-places along the route realized that he had seldom seen a silent baby before; except once when a never-to-be-forgotten youthful romance had ended for ever as he stood looking down on a dead mother with his dead son on her breast. But this one he paused mechanically to lift it from its sand cradle looked alive enough to scream like the devil if it chose It did. He nearly dropped the babe in surprise, so sudden, so forceful, was its howl of hunger. For there was no mistaking it ; loud, full, prolonged, the pro- test was for food, immediate, imperative. But how to compass satisfaction, here in the wilderness? Parched grain, the staple provant of the Eastern traveller, was distinctly unsuitable. There was the she-camel he was riding her calf, which had gone on ahead, was almost weaned, but she might have something to appease the yell. MISTRESS OF MEN 7 It was worth a trial, anyhow; so, holding the child con- veniently, he attempted to milk into its open mouth. This, how- ever, only made it yell the louder, and he was at his wits' end when by chance the teat touched the clamouring lips. In an instant they had closed on it like a vice, and remained glued to it, sucking contentedly. He chuckled to himself as he stood laboriously holding ths child, whose little arms struggled and beat aimlessly at the animal, as they would have at a human mother. A strange group, indeed, in the rising moonlight, that sent a hard yet blurred shadow of mingled man and beast on to the soft shifting sand. " By Allah !" murmured Zaman Shah, when at long last the satisfied lips loosed hold. " She is better than most of her sex f She knows what she wants, and gives no trouble when she gets it. I will call her Queen o' Women." It was the first intimation he had given to himself that he meant to take the gift the gods had sent him, but it was final. He was used, in his profession of Conveyer of Caravans, to the rapid making of plans, to decisive decisions and sudden actions- Then family ties sat light upon him, and some one of the many women dependent on him would surely mother the foundling; if not, he could easily find someone who would ; for Zaman Shah was a good-looking fellow in the prime of life. So lightly, almost without thought, he tucked the now sleeping baby away in the capacious wadded coat girt about the waist with a twined girdle which to the Afghan is general hold-all, remounted, and rode on at full speed. Within five minutes he had forgotten all about his burden and was back in some rather troublous thoughts which needed sifting ; for his post of Chief Conveyer of Caravans was not without responsibilities. To begin with, the slow, undulating file of camels which, tied nose to tail, looked sideways like some mon- strous caterpillar crawling on its lengthy way, often carried untold wealth. True, the major part of the packs contained nothing more valuable than dried apricots and plums, pistachio nuts, white grapes packed in little round boxes, and such like, with here and there a tiny packet of asafcetida to give flavour to 8 MISTRESS OF MEN the whole and bestow on the caravan an atmosphere to carry along with it. But others held carpets and rich stuffs, while a few had precious stones turquoise, lapis lazuli, and jade. Still more valuable things were to be found, but these were generally con- cealed on the persons of the travellers who availed themselves of armed escort, so that the Conveyer did not himself know what treasures he was guarding. But whenever he found unusual difficulty in settling trans- port dues with the tribesmen, he had a shrewd guess that they had wind of something out of the common. And never had he met with more extortion than on the present trip. His face clouded, remembering the rupees extracted from him that very morning after vain protest and waste of time. But, praise be to Allah ! the tyranny was about overpast. Two more marches would see them over the border, and the very next day he would Be quit of that naked, drunken pig of a Hindu saint, who, he verily believed, was at the bottom of the whole trouble. Bad eess to the banker at Kabul who had persuaded him to convoy the idolatrous anatomy as if the fact that you owed a man a few paltry hundreds was any excuse for his foisting a ver- minous savage on good company ! Zaman Shah spat over his thoughts, then laughed sardonically at the reflection that jogi-jee could not have much about him, since his only clothing was a bit of twine and a rag round his waist. But perhaps he had swallowed something? Not very large, anyhow, as you could see every bone and sinew in his skeleton ! Yes, it would be God's peace when he was safely handed over to the shrine ! So from that Zaman Shah's errant thoughts flew to other things, while the swift rewdri camel, with its long swinging trot that had a bump in the middle, forged over the sandhills at fifteen miles an hour; a very different pace from that of the baggage beasts, its brothers. It did not take more than an hour and a half to reach the outskirts of the little oasis, preluding a more rapid and rocky descent, where the caravan was encamped for the night, and where Zaman Shah expected to find all asleep and snoring after the dreary, weary, slow march of the day. He was, however, MISTRESS OF MEN 9 disappointed. From afar he could see watch-fires blazing and hear drums beating, while as he passed on a couple of timid guards, armed with pikes, challenged him fearfully. With an oath he gave the password, and, galloping furiously to his tent, flung himself from his camel and demanded imperi- ously what was the matter. " The Hindu saint, my lord, hath had a dream. He swears if any sleep he will be robbed and murdered," bleated a head accountant, hovering between importance and fear. " And, seeing that he is a holy man ' ' Zaman Shah nearly burst with rage. "Go to Gehennum ! Hindu thyself, fool !" he stormed. " Is peace for ever to be disturbed by a drunkard's dreams? Bring the foul beast hither, slaves, and I will cook his pulse for him. ' ' A minute later the two men stood glaring at each other, abso- lutely different and apart, yet each instinct with overweening pride and arrogance. Of the two, the jogi had the better share, for one look at the dull blaze of his eyes showed that he was heavily drugged with bhang; and of all known substances in the world, Indian hemp is the one that makes a man feel most supreme, most god-like. So, a miserable, ash-smeared anatomy, his wild sun-bleached hair matted into a sort of crown upon his head, he stood grey and ghostlike in the mingled glare of torch and moon, giving back with interest the Mahomedan's purely physical contempt by a spiritual disdain beyond words. And yet there were traces of a furtive fear, perhaps more of a furtive watchfulness, in his dull, restless eyes and in the quickness with which he followed every movement of the crowd that pressed behind him. A fear, a watchfulness of something that was not, but might be. "So! Saint!" jeered Zaman, " thou hast been dreaming again. I will have no drunken dreams ay, or dreamers either in my camp. So tell these split-eared folk something more peaceful, or, by the Prophet, saint or sinner, out you go !" The saint gave a scornful laugh. "Thou darest not, cow-killer! Thou art bound by thine office to shelter me till I reach the shrine." Zaman Shah's face grew black with passion; in an instant io MISTRESS OF MEN his resolve was taken, heedless of his own comfort or discom- fort, heedless of all saj/e immediate reprisal. "So be it, Saint-fee," he snarled; "then I see thee safe there if God wills this very night. 'Tis a matter of fifteen miles, not more, twelve by the gorge path. That ends it. Dost hear?" For an instant the man looked startled, apprehensive; then with curious dignity he salaamed. " So hath the Mighty ordained," he said. " His disciple is ready." Zaman gave a scornful laugh. " Ay ! Ready enough, see- ing thine only baggage is a bag of bones and some vermin. Thus we can start without delay. Quick ! my other camel, and five troopers thou shalt have decent escort, saint ! And bring me a drink of sherbet I sup not till I be quit, with a thankful heart, of all idolaters." There was ever haste in Zaman Shah's dispositions ; but this one was more than usually rapid, and the listening crowd had hardly realized its sequence before the little cavalcade, with the saint perched up behind the last trooper, had started. The moon, shining bright, showed him like a skeleton against the latter's burly form, as, coalescing into a serried group, the party disappeared at full speed adown the rocky decline. The watching crowd began to disperse, yawning sleepily. " By Allah !" murmured one. " The Conveyer said truth. The saint had bewitched the camp. Now he is gone, I feel that I can sleep in peace." " And I also," yawned another. But one man looked at another man, and both were alert to the uttermost. They were both slim, small, dark- featured, and after an instant's colloquy they slipped past the camp fires and were no more seen. CHAPTER II " Ring round with scent the circle where thy lips Shall touch the Bowl of Life ! If the wine drips Untouched into the Cup of Death what then ? Since Life dies not, it matters not who sips." ZAMAN SHAH rode at the head of the escort fuming with rage, and yet exultant. By his quick decision to take a short cut, and thus, within the limits of a short, swift, but difficult camel ride, deposit the verminous idolater at the shrine which would otherwise have been reached in two days' tedious marching, he had put an end, so he told himself, to an intolerable state of affairs. Never had he had so troublesome a caravan to convoy. And it was not all dreams on the jogi's part; twice, at least, an attempt had been made on the camp at night ; and, from his long experi- ence of travellers, he suspicioned more than one of the Hindus of his party as being in disguise. However, the whole affair was ended now, with no worse result than keeping him four hours without his supper ; for it would not take more than that to deposit Saint -jee and get back. If he had had horses instead of camels, not so long ; for the hill-ponies could easily have tackled a further short cut at the beginning, which was impassable for the latter 's soft pads. So he led the way in the moonlight for some three miles down the rocky ravine, till they came upon a few sparse pine-trees, and finally entered the densely wooded valley leading to the lower levels. Here a tinkle of water made itself heard below them, as, fearful of a slip among the thick carpeting of pine- needles, they went slowly along the verge of precipitous rocks. A warm aromatic air rose from the camels' footsteps, and the burly trooper bade Sa.mt-jee hold fast if he did not want to save further trouble by gaining Swarga and not the shrine by being precipitated to the rocks below. 12 MISTRESS OF MEN " Jest not with holy things, outcast !" replied the jogi. " Mai Durga stays not her hand at the m'lechchas." " Halt !" came an imperious voice from ahead. It was darker here, in the shadow of the pines ; but it was light enough for Zaman Shah to see that something lay ahead which caused him to fling himself from his saddle with an oath of vexation. The path had passed from the left to the right bank of the stream by a bridge purposely placed at the narrowest part of the gorge; or rather, it should have passed, for the centre of the three tree-trunks of which the rough roadway had been made was no longer there. Peering over the edge, Zaman Shah could see it lying askew, wedged into the rocks half-way down. Doubtless, having grown rotten, it had fallen; such things did happen, especially on little used pathways. Still it was a check, and that to Zaman Shah's temper was intolerable. There was, however, but one thing to be done. A halt must be called, half the troopers must swarm across the remaining trunks, cut down a suitable pine to fell as near to place as possible, while the remaining men guided it by ropes. It was an operation which had constantly to be done on hill roads, and it need only take half an hour; but it was half an hour lost. "Leave the camels, my brothers, in charge of Saint-;V