The Sleeping Sands (32 page)

‘My man reported that the Matamet turned to Shefi’a Khan to ask if this indeed was the will of the Great Khan. My brother’s vizier replied that indeed it was and added that the Khan was preparing an offering of sheep to be sent to the Matamet in the morning to mark the treaty.’

The Khan interrupted with a curse. Au Kerim continued, ‘my man then told us that the Matamet laughed and said that he had sheep enough. He gestured to his ferrashes and immediately Shefi’a Khan and Ali Naghi Khan were seized and imprisoned without a chance to defend themselves. The bodyguard were less fortunate. The ferrashes fell on them with spears and slaughtered them. Only my man was able to fight his way free. The Matamet’s soldiers had cut off his escape to Kala Tul, so instead he rode away from the castle to hide in the hills above the plain. From there, he was able to watch as the Matamet broke camp and headed towards Shuster. When he was sure of their direction and that none of his comrades had survived, he returned to Kala Tul.’

‘He also reported seeing many Bakhtiari and Lurs with the Matamet’s army,’ added the Khan, ‘and I am certain there will be more forces joining him at Shuster.’

‘He has drawn himself out of reach of an attack from Kala Tul,’ said Kerim, ‘and knows we cannot follow him to Shuster. He has cut off both our allies and our supplies.’

‘All he needs to do now,’ said the Khan, ‘is to wait and starve us into submission. Kala Tul stands alone.’

The next two weeks were filled with tension and unease at Kala Tul. Layard joined with the Khan and his captains in long councils of war, the conclusions of which became more unsettling as Bakhtiari scouts brought news that only confirmed the Khan’s fears. The Matamet had indeed withdrawn to Shuster where he had been joined by many of the Khan’s neighbours and fresh supplies of troops and artillery from Isfahan. The neighbouring settlements were all deserted and any stores of food or livestock that the nomads had not taken with them had been seized by the Matamet’s forces. The countryside was barren and the castle’s own supplies could not hold out for long. There were rumours among the Bakhtiari that even some of the Khan’s own men had slipped away into the night.

In the enderun, the mood seemed even worse. The women sat in silence or else wept openly. In hushed voices they told each other stories they had heard of the Matamet and the awful punishments he meted out to his enemies. They were convinced that soon they would be slaves in the Governor’s palace.

Among the women, only three voices were raised in defiance of these rumours. The Khanum and her sister scoffed at the gossips and told them scornfully that they were no Bakhtiari to talk in such terms of defeat. Alongside them, Lady Moon strutted defiantly up and down among the women, pulling her face into a warlike expression and waving her little fists.

‘Do not forget that we are Bakhtiari warriors,’ she cried. ‘If the Persians come amongst us, we will cut their throats. If they try to take us as slaves, we will use our long knives to first kill as many of them as we can and then take our own lives. Isn’t that so, Henry?’

Layard could say nothing, but look helplessly at the beautiful, fearless child and wonder at the savage fate that had so destroyed her innocence.

On the eleventh day after the siege was lifted, riders came to Kala Tul from the Matamet. Among them was the Ghûlam who had accompanied Layard’s party from Isfahan.

Without ceremony, the Matamet’s official was led before the Khan.

‘Will you give me one reason, dog, why I should not treat you and your companions as your master treated my own men?’ growled the Khan, drawing his sword.

The Ghûlam bowed deeply.

‘Great Khan,’ he pleaded, ‘know that what happened to your men was simply an unfortunate mistake. When your brother and vizier were taken into protective custody, to be hostages to ensure the treaty that you yourself had proposed, they wrongly thought that they were under attack and chose to attack our own soldiers. Our ferrashes, confronted by such an assault had little choice but to defend themselves. Governor Manuchar Ali Khan was most distressed by the bloodshed, but urges you to acknowledge that it was by no fault or instigation of his own.’

Au Kerim spat and moved forward angrily.

‘That is not the way my own man told the story,’ he shouted, ‘your ferrashes fell upon us without warning.’

The Khan put a hand on his brother’s shoulder,

‘Despite the wrong that has been done to us, brother,’ he said, ‘let it be known that Mehemet Taki Khan respects the flag of truce. We will not murder these dogs – at least not until we have heard what they have to say.’

He glared at the Ghûlam, who flinched and stepped back a pace.

‘My master wishes it to be known,’ he continued, in a faltering voice, ‘that Isfahan is willing to accept the peace, in the name of his Imperial Majesty the Shah.’

There was a murmur among the gathered captains.

‘So the Persian scum are still afraid of the Bakhtiari,’ muttered one scarred warrior, standing behind Layard.

‘The Mu’temedi-Dowla acts only in the best interest of our Persian State,’ continued the Ghûlam. ‘He wishes to bring peace and prosperity to the province of Isfahan – for Persian and Bakhtiari alike. He asks only that a member of the Khan’s family might accompany me back to Shuster to act as a guarantee of the Khan’s intentions. He has sworn a solemn oath on the Koran that if such a hostage is given, he will disband his forces and return to Isfahan.

‘If, however such a condition is not met, then my master will have no choice but to declare Mehemet Taki Khan in yaghi and visit the full force of the state upon his people.’

‘The Matamet already has my brother as a hostage,’ snarled the Khan, ‘not to mention my vizier.’

‘Both Ali Naghi Khan and Shefi’a Khan have chosen to stay with the Governor of their own volition,’ smiled the official, ‘besides, His Excellency is aware that you and your brother have had a difference of opinion during recent weeks and feels that someone a little closer to you may prove a more effective hostage.’

‘If your master thinks that I love my brother any less for his foolishness, then he is much mistaken,’ snapped the Khan. ‘Who else does he wish me to send?’

‘Your son, Hussein Kuli,’ the Ghûlam said, looking up at the Khan, with a glint of triumph in his eyes.

‘My master insists that it is your son.’

The Matamet’s proposal caused the great hall to erupt into outrage. The gathered Bakhtiari began to shout and wave their weapons at the Persian delegation, who cowered together, exchanging anxious looks. Au Kerim grabbed a pair of long pistols and was thrusting them into the Ghûlam’s face. Layard had little doubt that the impudent official would soon loose a good part of his devious head. He also had little doubt that the Ghûlam himself had planted the idea of taking Hussein Kuli hostage, having witnessed the strength of the Khan’s affection for the boy. He shared the Bakhtiari’s indignation at the demand and, against his better nature, half-wished that Au Kerim would pull the pistols’ triggers.

In the hall, only the Great Khan stayed quiet and still, scowling darkly at the Persians. He raised his hand imperiously and the clamour faded. Now all eyes were upon Mehemet Taki Khan, waiting to see what terrible violence he would inflict on the interlopers.

He stood, trembling almost imperceptibly with rage and staring, wordlessly at the Matamet’s embassy. The hall became completely quiet and the Ghulam appeared to be holding his breath, waiting for the Khan’s next pronouncement, which would surely bring his death.

Instead, after standing silently for what seemed to Layard to be an eternity, the Khan turned, without a word and marched from the room.

‘Hold them, until I tell you what to do with them,’ snapped Au Kerim and left the room after his brother, followed closely by Au Kelb Ali, Au Khan Baba and Layard.

‘Let me go instead, brother!’ insisted Au Khan Baba, ‘he can take me as another family member.’

The five had gathered in a small private chamber and were discussing the Matamet’s proposal. Layard could only marvel at the composure Mehemet Taki Khan was retaining while discussing the prospect of handing his beloved son to his most hated enemy.

‘No, Baba,’ he said softly, ‘I cannot spare another captain. We need every fighting man we have.’

‘Then let them take me,’ said Au Kelb Ali, coughing a little as he spoke, ‘I am too sick to fight and just take up extra supplies while I lie here. Let the Matamet feed me instead!’

‘No, my brother,’ said the Khan sadly, ‘the siege has been hard on you. I fear that you are too ill now to travel. Besides, the Matamet will not accept another hostage; of that I am certain.

‘Whether we like it or not, he has presented us a clear choice. Either we give up my son, or else it is war.’

‘Then it is war,’ stated Au Kerim.

‘It is a war we could never win,’ said the Khan.

‘That is no reason to surrender,’ replied Kerim, ‘we are Bakhtiari.’

‘We are the last of the free Bakhtiari,’ said the Khan, gazing into the dark shadows of the room.

‘The last of the free Bakhtiari,’ he repeated, ‘could I sacrifice them for the sake of one boy?’

‘We would have it no other way,’ said Kerim, indignantly, ‘not one man among your people would ask you to hand over your son for his sake.’

‘There is one.’

The five men turned as one, to look at the speaker, who had silently entered the chamber. The Khan’s son, Hussein Kuli stood, framed in the lamplit doorway. The light made him seem taller and the serious expression on his normally joyful face added new years to his age.

‘I slipped into the hall, father,’ said the boy. ‘I heard all that the Persians said. I know that you have no choice but to hand me to the Matamet and I know too that you would never ask me to go.’

He stepped forward and embraced the Khan.

‘I love you, father,’ he said, bravely, ‘and I love our people. No-one must die for my sake. I beg you to let me go as a hostage to the Matamet.’

The Khan hugged his son, looking helplessly towards Layard, with tears welling in his eyes.

‘What would you do, my friend?’ he asked, in desperation.

Layard looked away.

‘Only you can decide, Great Khan,’ he said quietly. ‘It is too big a thing for any of us.’

The Khan’s three brothers and Layard stood in silence around the Khan and his son. At length Au Kerim spoke.

‘At least let me go with the boy, to see no harm befalls him.’

‘I cannot spare you,’ said the Khan, gently, ‘you are my finest warrior. If the Matamet were to seize you, then Kala Tul would fall for sure.’

‘Then I shall go,’ said Layard. ‘I remain under the protection of the Shah’s firman. The Matamet shall not dare to harm me.’

The Khan turned to Layard, as if to speak, but no words came. For a moment he looked at the Englishman with wide, tear-glazed eyes and then rushed from the room.

Hussein Kuli rode alongside Layard to Shuster as if he was a visiting prince, rather than a hostage. He led a small retinue, consisting of his tutor and a bodyguard under the command of one of his father’s most trusted soldiers, Au Isfendiar. The Matamet’s embassy having been sent ahead on mules two days earlier, his father had insisted that he ride on Julfa, his favourite pure white Arab mare. His mother had carefully and tearfully oiled his long, curling hair, which now flowed majestically from beneath his felt cap and twisted striped lung. He wore a long silk robe, tucked into his riding trousers and fastened with a fine leather belt, into which was tucked his long pistol and a jewelled dagger. At his saddle hung a silver-mounted sword and a heavy iron mace and across its bow rested a fine gun, traced with silver. Layard marvelled at the spectacle of the young warrior, sitting tall and beautiful on his spirited mount. He seemed far removed from the pale child whom Layard had encountered on his arrival at Kala Tul a few short months before.

The young man not only looked the part of a prince but played the role among his men. While his little party, accompanied by the piteous cries and laments of the Khan and his wives, had left Kala Tul with sombre moods; Hussein Kuli had ridden among them, joking and singing to raise their spirits. He told them how much he wished to see Isfahan and insisted that Layard relate the wonders that the city would have in store for him. He joked about how much of the Matamet’s food he would eat and promised to carry off as many beautiful Persian girls that Julfa could carry upon his return, to be handed out to Au Isfendiar and his men.

When his tutor, a stern-faced mullah, reprimanded him for his lewdness, Hussein Kuli simply laughed and said that he had heard it on good account that all mullahs in Isfahan had at least three mistresses and were considered such a good catch by the matrons of the town that they were pursued through the streets by mobs of passionate and love-starved women. At this, the men began to cheer and, for much of the rest of the journey, the soldiers would offer the poor mullah colourful advice on how best to deal with any such attentions that he might receive.

As the little band travelled on, the weather held and the good humour of Hussein Kuli soon began to lift their spirits; so it was not until the fifth day, as they arrived at the banks of an ancient canal near to Shuster, that they remembered the awful nature of their mission.

‘We will await you here,’ said Au Isfendiar to Layard. ‘We can go no closer to Shuster without being seized by the Matamet.’

After an emotional parting with his men, Hussein Kuli rode bravely into Shuster, accompanied by Layard and his tutor. The little group was directed to a ruined stone castle that loomed over the town’s steep sided gorge. In it, they found the Matamet, seated on a fine carpet, spread on a terrace overlooking the river Karun beneath.

The Governor’s usually emotionless face was animated by a look of undisguised satisfaction and triumph at the arrival of the young prince. His bloated countenance seemed to Layard to be even more disgusting when illuminated by sentiment than in its normal state of flaccid neutrality. He sensed immediately that the Matamet had no intention at all of abiding by his oath to return to Isfahan.