# The Slave Girl of Agra/Book 2/Chapter 3

III. THE RAJPUT QUEEN
They crossed the paved courtyard silently in the dim light of the stars.
A eunuch of the Zenana guard was on duty at the gate which gave admission to the inner apartments. His position brought him in personal touch with the Emperor himself, and proud Rajas and Omrahs and Mansabdars courted his favours with gifts and gold. The women slaves of the palace trembled at his name; he knew every one of them by sight and by name, and their fates often depended on his word.
"That is Musroor," said Jelekha, and shuddered.
"Who is Musroor?"
"Hush."
Jelekha and her companion came to the gate. There was a broad smile on Musroor's black face as he spoke.
"Ha! fair Tartar maid, thou keepest late hours outside the Zenana, it seems, and makest new friends every night. But who is the stately damsel you are taking to the palace to-night? My eyes have not seen that form before."
"Please thee, Musroor, it is my sister who has lately come to Hind. She will soon be known to thee if she finds employment in the palace, which she has come to seek."
"Maybe she will, fair Jelekha, for Tartar girls with keen dirks are needed in these troublesome ​times, and thy sister seems fitted to use a dirk rather than wave a fan. Alla have mercy on us—many a deed is done inside these walls of which the world knows little. But fain would I have a word in private with thy sister before she passes this gate, for there is something in her appearance and gait which courts inquiry, my dear."
"Word with her thou mayst not have to-night, Musroor," replied Jelekha with perfect calmness, while the blood froze in her veins, "for she has not yet learned the tongue spoken in Hind. Soon will she learn it for she is apt, and then indeed she will be proud to talk to thee. Be kind, Musroor, and let us pass."
"Thy suit, beloved of my heart, I never can deny. But thy sister is a stranger in this palace, and a stranger enters not the inner palace until Musroor has seen something of her pretty face."
The warm Tartar blood mantled the fair brow of Jelekha, and she bit her lips in vexation and rage. And something of her feelings found expression in her tremulous voice as she spoke. "I am the slave of Queen Jodh Bai, as thou knowest, and my sister goes with me by her orders. Here is the Queen's signet ring, Musroor; if thou touchest my sister thou shalt answer to the Queen."
The dark face of the eunuch grew blacker, and a gleam of anger shot from his eyes. But he examined the ring, bowed to the ground in respect of her who was the owner, and allowed Jelekha and her companion to pass without another word.
"Thou hast humbled that insolent man, Jelekha, and methinks he will think twice before he thwarts thee again."
​"Thou little knowest that black, vindictive creature if thou thinkest so," replied Jelekha with a shudder. "I have made him an enemy to-night. A man may forget and a woman may forgive, but that cruel sexless creature never forgives and never forgets."
Jelekha, then laid her finger on her lips, and the two went on. They passed by many edifices of rare design and beauty, built of marbles and rich stones, and surmounted by spires and domes which glittered in the light of the stars. Female guards with swords and dirks patrolled the passages. The darkness of the winter night was lit up by innumerable lights from the palaces, and far off was heard the brawling of the broad Jumna, which swept below. At last they came to a superb palace which blazed with light, and the voice of song and music rose within. Jelekha gently opened the door, and they entered a great hall.
On a raised platform, covered by the finest brocades of Benares, sat Prince Selim, the eldest son of Akbar, and heir-apparent to the proudest Empire on earth. Fragrant lamps shone on stands of silver; the finest fruits of Kabul were arranged in dishes of crystal; wines of Shiraz sparkled in goblets of gold. Jodh Bai, the Rajput Queen of Akbar, was entertaining her royal son. The hall was brilliant with lights, and fair dancers of Agra, known as Kanchanis or the Golden Ones, surrounded the throne in a semi-circle, and sang to the royal guest.
Their tinkling feet kept time, their soft, white arms were held out as if to court an embrace, and the gold on their sweeping dresses sparkled in the light. The music at last ceased with a loud flourish, the voice of song was hushed, and the bright circle of dancers stood in a ​row, bending their jewelled heads towards the throne, and folding their hands over their panting bosoms.
Prince Selim was gratified. The flush of wine was on his brow, and his eyes sparkled as he gazed on the fairy scene before him. Apart from the dancers, and against marble walls, stood a row of female attendants, silent, graceful, with heads bent in obeisance. Among them had Jelekha and her companion taken their stand behind a marble pillar.
"Thou hast fair attendants waiting on thee, mother," said Prince Selim at last, "and their song delights me. It was good of thee, mother, to entertain me thus on the eve of my departure, and I will think of thee when I am far away in camp."
"Prince," said the doting mother, "thou art ever my joy and my pride, and it rejoices me to see thee and to entertain thee. Thy father is the greatest monarch on earth, and the best. Follow in his footsteps, my son, and remember thy Rajput mother and be generous to thy Hindu subjects."
But the mother's words fell heedless on the Prince, already sleepy with wine. Pampered in luxury from his youth, the Prince had inherited none of the virtues of Akbar, and the wise men of the Court had sad misgivings about the fate of the Empire after the Empire-builder had passed away. To-night the Prince had come on a visit to his mother, not to receive her blessings and to enjoy the entertainment she had provided, but in quest of a lovely pair of eyes which had enthralled his soul.
"It is midnight, mother, and the roses on the fair cheeks of the dancers are pale with toil. Give them this purse and let them retire."
​The hall was cleared, and none remained behind save mother and son and a few faithful attendants. Jelekha and her companion were among those who were told to stay.
"Thou art generally away, my son, in these days, and I seldom see thee in Agra. And thy looks are pale from the incessant toil of camp life."
"Agra has little charm for me now, my mother, and grief and disappointment spoil our looks more than toil and a soldier's work."
"Dost thou speak of that Fair Persian whom thou wast inclined to marry? But thy father has acted for the best, my Selim, and Mihr-un-Nissa is now the wife of a faithful servant of the Empire. Quench all impure thoughts in thy heart, my son, and be true to thy high position."
Prince Selim listened and made no reply.
"Princesses of my proud race," continued his mother, "and of the highest rank have graced thy royal bed and borne thee sons who are the pride of the Empire. The sister of Raja Man Singh is thy loving consort and is the mother of thy eldest born, Khasru, now a brave and handsome lad. Begums of thy own race and religion, too, share thy bed, and the daughter of the honoured Khaja Hasan has borne thee a lovely boy, Parvis. Udai Singh's daughter also claims thy affection, and has presented thee with the princely Khurram, with his looks so bright, so knowing, so determined, though he is only a child. The Ruler of Tibet has sent his loved child to be thy wife, and Jagat Singh's daughter, the fairest flower of Rajasthan, is thy youngest bride. Cherish thy wedded wives with a holy affection, nor ​seek to court the love of one who is now Sher Afghan's wife."
"To hear thee is to obey, mother, and my father's will is the law of the land. But the midnight hour has struck, and I would not detain thee from thy rest any longer. I have yet another visit to pay; and my father's eldest Queen, Sultana Rakiya Begum, claims my attendance."
"Much I fear, my wayward son, it is not my royal sister, Rakiya Begum, but another who claims thee at this hour. But go, my son, go and see the Fair Persian for the last time. Remember she is now the wedded wife of Sher Afghan, and is entitled to the honour due to a married woman. My slave Jelekha will take thee to my royal sister's palace."
One more goblet the Prince quaffed and then saluted his mother and walked out of the hall. Jelekha and her companion led him by a marble corridor to a distant part of the palace. The Jumna rolled below and laved the newly-built walls and bastions of the fort of Agra; and the dim light of stars fell on the carved arches, the quaint balustrades and the marble pavement. The wind was soft and fragrant, and the world slept in the hush of the midnight.
But Prince Selim cared little for the beauty of the night or the charm of the scene before him. His face was flushed, and his steps were not altogether steady, as he proceeded to Queen Rakiya Begum's palace.
"Why, I think I have seen thy pretty face before, my young Tartar maid," said the Prince, casting a glance at Jelekha. "Those keen, dark eyes of thine are not soon forgotten, my pretty girl."
​"I am your humble slave, great Prince, and an attendant on your royal mother," said Jelekha, humbly.
"And this girl is thy sister, is she? The Tartars are a tall breed, methinks, and thy sister is a good three inches taller than thee. And I do not half dislike her strong, masculine face, though it is not as sweet as thy own."
Not the least tremor marked the voice of Jelekha as she answered:
"We are a rough, hard-featured race, Prince. Our men delight in war; our girls often pasture their flocks on lonely hills, and learn the use of the dirk."
"And does thy sister speak the language of Hind? And will the fair barbarian understand me if I ask her for a kiss?"
"My sister speaks no language but our own, mighty Prince, and in my country young girls are taught to take a kiss for an insult, and repay it with a stroke of their dagger."
"Why, what a race of wildcats you must be in your wild mountains! And yet a kiss I would fain have from this wild cat, even if she clawed me for it. Methinks there is a wild flavour in her rude lips like the flavour of strong wine. And if the young barbarian pleases me she will find a situation in my palace. Musalmanis are stiff and Rajputnis are cloying, but a gaunt. young Tartar girl is like half raw meat and suits a warrior's palate."
Noren bit his lips in vexation and rage, and his hand unconsciously drew near his belt. But the least indiscretion would lead to exposure, and the blood of Jelekha and himself would pay for it. ​Noren looked down on the deep Jumna rolling below, as if he would throw himself down to find death or escape. But Jelekha had been bred up in palace intrigues, and was quick-witted and composed. Her white, sinewy arms, strong as bands of steel, held the Prince like a vice, and she spoke with a sweet smile on her lips.
"Much honoured were my sister and my father's house, noble Prince, if she found favour in your royal eyes and a humble employment as a slave in your royal harem. But to-night a lovely lady awaits thy presence, and is anxious to bid farewell to a Prince whose image she will always cherish in her heart."
"Ha! thou hast spoken truly, my girl, and I must not keep my fair charmer waiting. One glance of that Fair Persian is worth all the fascinations of Tartary and of Hind."
The party hurried on, and soon reached their destination. A large and stately palace rose before them, surrounded by a garden of many rare and exotic plants. Fragrant white jasmines yielded a sweet perfume, and tapering junipers grew on vases. Water from the Jumna was conducted through the garden and round the palace, and the light inside was visible through marble trellis-work which served as windows.
Jelekha and her companion waited outside the door, and Prince Selim entered. Surrounded by her fair attendants sat a lady draped in velvet and gold, and beaming in her matchless loveliness under her veil of blue silk gauze. She was Mihr-un-Nissa, whose beauty had enthralled the son of Akbar.