Chapter 174: Kidnapping
Pakistan sultanate, Lahore, morning of 30 march 1557.
As the diplomats departed through the front gate, accompanied by an escort of 2,000 elite Persian soldiers, Bairam Khan, stationed high atop the battlement, turned to a hooded figure draped in black robes. This figure was Kasim, a member of the Khufiyas, the Mughal special assassin unit.
"Make sure there are no traces of direct evidence," Bairam Khan commanded with his hands clasped behind his back
Kasim, bowing respectfully, replied, "Certainly, hazur."
With that, Kasim and his team of similarly attired operatives swiftly departed,
As the sun climbed higher, the Persian escort force, 2,000 strong, marched out of the city, their armor glinting in the light. Each soldier wore a cuirass for chest protection, reinforced by leather jerkins, pauldrons, greaves, and bracers. A long talwar hung at their waists, and round shields were strapped to their backs. They carried spears as they marched, with a few high-ranking officers mounted on horseback leading the convoy. They didn’t bring any cavalry, as they planned to board their ships at Thatta port in Sindh, from where they would leave for Persia via sea.
By the evening, the convoy reached the edge of the forest, and for safety, they decided to set up a camp on open grounds. The air was filled with sounds of preparation and the occasional clang of metal . Tents were erected and supplies were arranged in the center for protection, followed by a few spaces for camp gatherings.
As dusk approached, a group of nomadic traders appeared at the edge of the camp. They brought in dancers clad in vibrant attire for entertainment services and were looking out for travelers. They happened to meet the soldiers by chance and approached the diplomats with hope to earn extra gigs.
Buoyed by the prospect of festivity, the guards allowed them to pass into the camping area after a thorough checkup, where Shahrokh and the other officials had gathered for a meeting.
Salim, a fat man wearing a long kameez and loose-fitting trousers with a thick beard and a mole on his cheek, approached Shahrokh with a broad smile. "Esteemed lord! We have come to offer entertainment to lift your spirits after your long journey."
Shahrokh, intrigued and weary from the road, looked over the group of nomads. "What sort of entertainment?"
Salim gestured towards a group of six belly dancers, their shawls falling to reveal shimmering, vibrant costumes. "Our finest dancers, my lord. Masters of celebration and charm. Let them perform, and may their dance bring joy to your evening."