The Vizier had now advanced within two coss of Shariar’s army, which was encamped on the opposite side of a narrow but deep stream, that divided the hostile forces. Shariar had taken up a strong position on the slope of a hill, flanked on one side by the stream, and on the other by a thick jungle. The Vizier crossed this stream during the night, at a ford about two miles below the enemy’s encampment, and appeared next morning drawn up in battle array upon the plain. His army was formed into three divisions; the right wing being commanded by Mohabet Chan, the second by an Omrah, who had distinguished himself in the Deccan, under Shah Jehan, and the centre by the Vizier in person. As the army of Shariar was in too strong a position to render an attack prudent on the part of the imperialists, the Vizier, suspecting that the enemy, confiding in superior numbers, would rush down upon him from the height which they occupied, warily awaited the expected onset. He was not deceived in this conjecture. Shariar, conceiving that the impetuosity of a charge from the elevation of his position would give him considerable advantage, commanded a vigorous onset to be made against the enemy’s centre, where the Vizier commanded. The shock was so great that the imperialists recoiled; but Mohabet Chan immediately brought up his men, who, attacking the Sultan’s troops with great energy upon the left flank, soon checked the momentary advantage which they had obtained, and the battle raged for some time with a pretty near equality of success.
The raw forces of Shariar were several times repulsed by the well-disciplined valour of the imperial soldiers; but fresh troops rushed to the charge as their comrades gave way, and the balance of victory hung for some time doubtful. The Vizier’s elephant was killed under him, but he leaped from the howdah, and fought on foot with a spirit which infused new courage into his army, and baffled the repeated assaults of the enemy. Whilst the right wing, under the command of Mohabet, and the centre, at the head of which the Vizier still fought in person, were maintaining a desperate conflict against superior numbers, with slow but manifest advantage, the left wing was repulsed, and obliged to retreat before the impetuous charge of its foes, headed by their princes. At this critical moment, Dawir Buxsh, who had managed during the confusion of the battle to escape from his guards, was seen in full career towards the contending armies. He had mounted a charger which had galloped from the battle on the death of its rider. Reaching the left wing of the imperial army as it was retreating before its victors, he shouted to the soldiers to support their sovereign. The enemy paused for an instant in their career of pursuit, unable to comprehend the arrival of a foe from their own camp. During that pause the imperialists rallied. Dawir Buxsh placed himself at their head, charged and drove back the insurgents, who, becoming dispirited by so unexpected a check, faltered, retreated, and their retreat was soon converted into a total rout. The centre and right wing, commanded by the Vizier and Mohabet Chan, had already obtained so decided an advantage over the main body of the army to which they were opposed, that the rout of the enemy’s right wing almost immediately decided the fortune of the day. The army of Shariar was totally defeated, and he fell into the hands of the Vizier. The slaughter was dreadful, the victory decisive.
CHAPTER V.
Prince Dawir Buxsh was received with loud acclamation by the troops. His late exploit gave them hopes of an emperor that would lead them on to conquest. He was borne in triumph to the imperial camp, and next day the army proceeded to Agra. Sultan Shariar’s daughter had fallen into the victor’s hands. The youthful sovereign desired that she might be brought into his presence; she accordingly appeared before him, her bosom agitated by conflicting emotions. She was at once elated by joy at her lover’s release, and depressed by sorrow at her father’s captivity. Her beauty was heightened by the singular variety of feeling which her countenance expressed. She fell at the prince’s feet: he affectionately raised her, and said, with earnest but tender passion,
“Let not my preserver kneel to one who is indebted to her for his liberty—perhaps his life; for the dungeon soon puts an end to earthly captivities. The star of our destinies has risen—may it ascend in glory to its meridian! As soon as I am placed upon the musnud, our marriage shall be solemnized, and we will enjoy the consummation of our happiness, which adverse chances have so long delayed.”
“But my father!” exclaimed the princess with a suffused eye and quivering lip.
“He will, for the present, remain a prisoner. He has sought to usurp the crown. The sovereign of the Moguls must perform his duty to his people as well as to himself.”
This was said with a tone of grave determination, which strikingly contrasted with the warm glow of tenderness that had preceded it. There was an expression of almost stern resolution in the calm but brilliant gleam of the speaker’s eye. The princess burst into tears.
“Be composed, lady,” said the prince, resuming his former tenderness, “and confide in my justice, which I trust will never neutralize my clemency. Your father has erred; and if he may not be forgiven, for your sake his life is sacred.”
The daughter gave an hysteric sob, threw herself upon the prince’s neck, and yielded to an irrepressible burst of emotion. She was relieved by the promise: a smile dilated her brow; her dark full eye expanded with a strong impulse of gratitude; and a single tear trickled slowly down her cheek, upon which a delicate smile quivered, like sunshine following the shower. The attendants were moved at the scene; the prince was subdued, still his determination relative to the prisoner, which had not yet transpired, remained unaltered. His attachment towards his daughter was strong and fervent, but he could not forget that he had been grossly wronged. The indignities so wantonly heaped upon him during his march to Shariar’s camp, when suffering from the pain of his wound, did not pass from his mind, and it is not the character of despotic princes to suffer injury to escape retribution.