The Year of Rice and Salt

Except this Akbar of light turned his head, and looked through the lit space between them, and Bistami saw then that his eyes were black balls in his head, black as onyx; and he said to Bistami, We have never met before; I am not the one you seek; the one you seek is elsewhere.

Bistami reeled, fell back in the corner made by the two walls.

When he came to himself, still in a colourful glassine world, Akbar in the flesh stood there before him, sweeping the courtyard with Bistami's broom.

'Master,' Bistami said, and began to weep. 'Mowlana.'

Akbar stopped over him, stared down at him.

Finally he put a hand to Bistami's head. 'You are a servant of God,' he said.

'Yes, Mowlana.'

'"Now hath God been gracious to us",' Akbar recited in Arabic. For whoso feareth God and endureth, God verily will not suffer the reward of the righteous to perish. -

This was from Sura Twelve, the story of Joseph and his brothers. Bistami, encouraged, still seeing through the edges of things, including Akbar and his luminous hand and face, a creature of light pulsing through lives like days, recited verses from the end of the next sura, 'Thunder': Those who lived before them made plots; but all plotting is controlled by God: He knoweth the works of every one. -

Akbar nodded, looking to Chishti's tomb and thinking his own thoughts.

No blame be on you this day",' he muttered, speaking the words Joseph spoke as he forgave his brothers. God will forgive you, for He is the most merciful of those who show mercy."'

'Yes, mowlana. God gives us all things, God the merciful and compassionate, he who is He. 0 he who is He, 0 he who is He, 0 he who is He…' With difficulty he stopped himself.

'Yes.' Akbar looked back down at him again. 'Now, whatever may have happened in Gujarat, I don't wish to hear any more of it. I don't believe you had anything to do with the rebellion. Stop weeping. But Abul Fazl and Shaikh Abdul Nabi do believe this, and they are among my chief advisers. In most matters I trust them. I am loyal to them, as they are to me. So I can ignore them in this, and instruct them to leave you alone, but even if I do that, your life here will not be as comfortable as it was before. You understand.'

'Yes, master.'

'So I am going to send you away 'No, master!'

'Be silent. I am going to send you on the haj.'

Bistami's mouth fell open. After all these days of endless talking, his jaw hung from his face like a broken gate. White light filled everything, and for a moment he swooned.

Then colours returned, and he began to hear again: ' you will ride to Surat and sail on my pilgrim ship, llahi, across the Arabian Sea to Jiddah. The waqf has generated a good donation to Mecca and Medina, and I have appointed Wazir as the mir haj, and the party will include my aunt, Bulbadan Begam, and my wife Salima. I would like to go myself, but Abul FazI insists that I am needed here.'

Bistami nodded. 'You are indispensable, master.'

Akbar contemplated him. 'Unlike you.'

He removed his hand from Bistami's head. 'But the mir haj can always use another cladi. And I wish to establish a permanent Timurid school in Mecca. You can help with that.'

'But – and not come back?'

'Not if you value this existence.'

Bistami stared down at the ground, feeling a chill.

' Come now,' the Emperor said. 'For such a devout scholar as you, a life in Mecca should be pure joy.'

'Yes, master. Of course.' But his voice choked on the words.

Akbar laughed. 'It's better than beheading, you must admit! And who knows. Life is long. Perhaps you will come back one day.'

They both knew it was not likely. Life was not long.

'Whatever God wills,' Bistami murmured, looking around. This courtyard, this tomb, these trees, which he knew stone by stone, branch by branch, leaf by leaf this life, which had filled a hundred years in the last month – it was over. All that he knew so well would pass from him, including this beloved awesome young man. Strange to think that each true life was only a few years long that one passed through several in each bodily span. He said, 'God is great. We will never meet again.'

Five. The Haj to Mecca