CHAPTER 53- The whispers of Golconda.

October 1538.

Qutb Shahi Palace, Golconda, Golconda Sultanate.

The halls of the Sultan's palace were just as opulent as they were full. The Royal court was in session again, and various matters were being discussed. Zamindars bickered over land disputes, their voices rising in heated arguments. High-profile merchants showcased their wares, a dazzling array of jewels, ornaments, and living goods – war horses, concubines, and slaves.

The trade of people was not a crime in the sultanates, with them trying to imitate the practices of their homelands. Those deemed infidels were routinely captured and sold into servitude, a constant reminder of the ever-shifting power dynamics in the Deccan. Slaves from other places also found themselves in the sultanates. 

One of the founding sultans of the Deccan sultanates, Malik Ambar of Ahmadnagar, was a slave himself, and another was a local, captured and converted as a child. One could say many things about the original sultans, but they fought their way up to those positions, either through blood and war or through politics.

"Split the conflicted land equally." The sultan boomed, silencing the squabbling zamindars "You were given that land to rule, not to fight amongst yourself."

"But Your Majesty," one of the zamindars whined, reiterating the issue, "there's a temple belonging to the kafirs right in the disputed zone. That temple and its lands complicate the division."

"When did that become an issue?" the sultan was almost offended if one were to believe his tone, "Deal with that temple of false gods. Is something so trivial a cause for my intervention?" 

"The village that worships there might not react well, Your Majesty," offered Jamsheed, one of the Sultan's sons, his voice smooth and measured. "That's the only reason we've allowed these kafirs to keep their idols in the first place. Disrupting them would cause chaos."

"I am the ruler of this land!" The Sultan said and then chastised his son. "We tolerate these 'people' and their false gods for the sake of peace, but that decision should never interfere in other, more important matters, the matters of state."

Jamsheed was the smartest of his sons, and even if the boy had the cunning of a snake, he loved him all the same. His son has something planned and is trying to use him in his plans. He would play along for now. 

"Of course, Father," Jamsheed bowed respectfully, his voice dripping with false piety, his words adding more fuel to the fire, "However, whispers say that you are too lenient towards the infidels and their blasphemy."

"Is that so?" the Sultan mused, feigning surprise at the direction his son was leading the conversation." why is that? Perhaps these whispers forget that all infidel festivals are banned within the capital region. Do I need to dispatch my soldiers to tear down their temples? Seize their woman?"

History notes that the first Sultan of Golconda and the few who followed him were not very lenient towards the locals. While this was true, some of the Sultans from the other sultanates were particularly harsh, making Qutb shahs appear lenient to a casual observer.

Jamsheed remained silent, but the Sultan knew the damage was done. Even though his son was quiet, it did not mean the rest of the court followed. Whispers sprung up instantly, with courtiers debating what the sultan would do. Some were charmed by the eloquent prince, who stood up for their religion, while the Sultan did not care.

So this was the play of his son. Sometimes he wished he outright selected the hier so he wouldn't have to deal with such court plays.

The Sultan's lips curled into a thin smile. He recognized his son's ploy. Jamsheed was vying for the support of the court's religious conservatives, hoping to weaken his position as Sultan.

The prince, a shrewd strategist with a cunning mind, was playing a subtle game. He knew his father's reputation for pragmatism, and he was attempting to paint him as overly tolerant of the "infidels."

By making the Sultan look lenient and tolerant of blasphemy, Jamsheed hoped to elevate his position in their eyes. After all, if the Sultan was weak, maybe the price who dared to question him was more suitable for the throne. Such questions would be all too easy to raise.

The Sultan was no stranger to such games. He himself climbed his way up the court of Bahmani sultanate, from a measly horse trader. Look at him now—the sultan of these lands. So, while he did not appreciate such politics, he played along. 

This was not the first time Jamsheed made a move against his family. Just a few months ago, he led his eldest, Qutbuddin to embarrass himself in front of the whole court, and the Sultan had to send him away, under the guise of punishment.

The Sultan chuckled inwardly. Court politics were a constant game, and Jamsheed was proving himself a worthy adversary.

'You can't remain quiet every time Jamsheed.' The Sultan thought to himself, as he sighed. Then his voice took a stern tone, "Enough of this!" he boomed, silencing the court. "Let it be known that my devotion to Allah is unwavering. As for these claims of my supposed leniency, let that blasphemous temple serve as an example! "

Then the sultan turned his attention back to Jamsheed. If his son, who is now almost thirty, wants to treat this as a game, then he as a sultan will change the rules. No longer would the prince play gamemaker. He will now be the player, getting his hands bloody.

A steely glint hardened his eyes'

"Jamsheed, You will be in charge of the whole ordeal, for you had drawn attention to the subject." he addressed his son, his voice laced with icy command, while the prince was beginning to realise he overplayed his hand, "You will personally oversee this… purification. You will lead the soldiers to that village, destroy their temple, and show them the one true God. Anyone who resists will be shown no mercy."

The weight of his command hung heavy in the air. That order was a death sentence to that village, but the Sultan did not care. Such loss of life, no matter the fact that it was in the hundreds, was inconsequential to him. Maybe its sacrifice will be a teaching moment, showing his overzealous son, to not overplay his hand. 

"As you command, great one!" Jamsheed went down on his knee and bowed while accepting the order. There was no question as to whether he will follow. No matter what the prince's opinion of his father might be, the man was still the Sultan. At least for now.

Jamsheed's face remained cold as usual, despite his father catching him in a mistake. Always wear a mask, his concubine mother taught him, and he intended to follow. But a flicker of unease sparked within him. He had pushed too far.

"Now, let us move on from this topic." Sultan Qutb Shah said, his voice regaining its usual booming authority. He swept his gaze across the court, finally settling on his closest confidant, the Prime Minister Karim Beg. "Karim, my friend. What is the situation across the borders? How are our neighbours doing?"

The prime minister was a close friend of the Sultan, from his days as a general in the court of the Bahmani Sultanate. He was a close and trusted friend, who was very capable, albeit a bit too trusting, and there was no one else who deserved the position more, at least in the eyes of the Sultan.

"Not much has changed in the western front, your Majesty." Prime Minister Karim whose greying beard spoke of years of loyal service, stepped forward and bowed. " The two sultanates, Bidar and Ahmadnagar, despite our diplomatic effort, still deny the existence of a possible alliance. But we did intercept a message, which showed communication between the two."

"Of course they would deny it," the Sultan snorted. "If I were them, I would too." He steepled his fingers, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow. "What about military and logistics? If they are planning a war with us, they cannot keep those hidden forever."

Logistics are key to winning any war. Nobody can win if they are not prepared. Any key military campaign could be predicted if one observes the movement of military and logistics, before the leading moment of the war. Troops and supply build-up are common things to check, and could, in most cases predict the date of the event.

"Indeed, Your Majesty," Karim agreed. "There has been an increasing trend of activity. Both sultanates have been mobilizing their permanent troops. There have even been whispers of conscription among the farming population. However..." he hesitated, glancing nervously at the Sultan.

"Whatever it is, Karim, spit it out," Sultan Qutb Shah commanded. "Nothing good ever comes from fermenting secrets."

"The mobilization of troops, although it started recently, only began after we began flexing our own western army, under the leadership of Prince Jamsheed," Karim confessed, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "Some believe it's purely a reaction to our own actions, a show of force in case we are the ones planning an invasion."

Jamsheed was appointed the commander of the western armies of the sultanate, and the one to fight against the possible alliance between Bidar and Ahmadnagar Sutanates, against Golconda.

The Sultan's eyes narrowed. "It matters little who attacks first, Karim," he said finally. "What matters is that a war is coming. If striking first gives us an advantage, then so be it."

A heavy silence descended upon the court. The courtiers exchanged worried glances, the fear of war hanging thick in the air.

As if sensing the need to lighten the mood, Karim Beg offered another piece of gossip. "Your Majesty," he began, "as you had predicted a few months ago, that infidel king of Dharanikota is indeed too weak to bear the burden of the throne. I had received news that he was injured and is currently unconscious. The kingdom's court is in disarray, on the verge of collapse."

A low murmur rippled through the hall. Dharanikota, despite its small size, was once a strategic buffer zone between Golconda, the Gajapthi Empire and the mighty Vijayanagara Empire. Its potential demise was significant news.

The fact that a king is under such a condition is no small news to the gossip mill. No matter the size of Dharanikota, it was still a kingdom, and Rudra was still a king. An unmarried one, with no heirs, at that. If he were to die, as everyone is saying, the kingdom would burn in another civil war, and there is a high probability of someone else occupying it. 

"This is a golden opportunity to claim the kingdom, Your Majesty," an eager voice piped up from the crowd. It was a young courtier, a staunch supporter of the eldest prince, Qutbuddin. "Prince Qutbuddin is well-equipped to handle such a task. A single word from you, and he will conquer Dharanikota swiftly."

Although Prince Qutbidden was temporarily stationed at Fort Rajamundhry, away from the capital of Golconda, he was still the eldest prince and many supported him, in the capital.

The courtier who spoke up was right. Prince Qutbuddin was the best equipped to deal with Dharanakota, especially now that the kingdom was in crisis. Conquering that would mean the eldest prince would finally have enough sway, for him to become the sultan next. That is something Prince Jamsheed could not bear of course.

The mention of Qutbuddin sparked a flicker of annoyance in Jamsheed's eyes. "Dharanikota as easy as it may seem, is still an ally of Vijayanagara," Jamsheed spoke up after staying quiet for a few minutes following the admonishment from the Sultan. " They consider it their territory, so they will be the ones to take it back. Unless my wayward brother intends to go to war with them of course"

The room fell silent once more. Vijayanagara, despite its outdated tactics, boasted a vast and powerful army. War with them was a prospect no one relished. If they want Dharanikota, they will have Dharanikota. It seemed that the empire was just waiting for the formality of the king, Rudra, who was already on the death's doorstep, passing away, for them to sweep in.

"The Prince speaks wisely, Your Majesty," Karim Beg conceded. " It is not the right time, no matter how eager the eldest prince might be, to go to war with the Dharanikota kingdom. We already face a potential war on two fronts with Bidar and Ahmadnagar, a three-front war with Vijayanagara added to the mix, is not something we could sustain."

Vijayanagara was the least technologically modern army of the south, yet its soldiers, or the sheer quantity of them the empire would use, always overcame the cannons and matchlocks of any opposing forces. If they too attacked Golconda, the sultanate's days are numbered.

"If you are so sure of it, Karim, I will heed your advice." the sultan sighed and then ordered, "Send word to Qutbudden to stand down. Let nature run its course, and see what happens. If their king recovers, send greetings from my side. If he dies, then send the congratulations to the Vijayanagara Emporer." 

With that final decree, the Sultan dismissed the court. The air filled with unspoken tension as courtiers filed out, their minds buzzing with the news of a potential war and the fate of the neighbouring kingdom. 

Jamsheed slowly retreated into his abode. He had overplayed his hand today. But he was someone who learnt from his mistakes. Such a blunder would not happen again.

As he left the throne room, he turned and looked back at the throne his father seemed all too comfortable in. That will be his one day. No matter what needs to be done.