The Sultan, Jalal-uddin Khalji, who had been on an expedition of his own to Gwalior on the Jumna, had heard no word from his nephew for six months, and was by this time extremely anxious for his safety. Then rumors reached him that Ala-uddin had captured, not Chandheri, but Devgiri; and was returning to Kera with a treasure the likes of which few eyes had ever seen. At first, Jalal-uddin was overjoyed at this news, but his counselors quickly reminded him that his nephew had deceived and betrayed him, and advised that he be cautious in dealing with him.
The Sultan thereupon called a meeting of his most trusted counselors and asked them what was the appropriate thing to do in such a case. Should he ride to meet his nephew en route, before he arrived back in Kera, or should he just wait at Delhi for Ala-uddin to come on his own?
The counselors were divided; one Mulik Ahmud Hubib suggested to the Sultan that his nephew was up to no good, and that he should send out a large army to meet him while he was yet on his way. Another, Mulik Fukir- uddin Kuchi, advised that the Sultan wait, allowing his nephew to return to Kera, and then see what he does after that. “Since the Sultan has the superior force,” he said, “he could always give assault later on if it became necessary.” The first counsel, Ahmad Hubib, retorted that, as soon as Ala- uddin returned to Kera, he would no doubt proceed immediately to the remote province of Bengal, where, with his newly acquired wealth, he could easily set up his own kingdom and his own defenses.
The Sultan, however, was naively fond of his nephew, and refused to hear any such suspicions about him. “We are so well assured of the loyalty of Ala-uddin,” he said, “that we would sooner believe treason of our own son than of him.” And so the old Sultan returned to Delhi to await word from his nephew.
Soon after his arrival there, a letter came from Ala-uddin, stating that all the wealth he brought back from Devgiri belonged to the Sultan, but, he begged, as he was so exhausted from his long campaign, might he be allowed some little repose at Kera before bringing all that treasure to Delhi. He added that he was well aware that he had enemies at court who had, no doubt, poisoned his uncle’s mind against him, encouraging him to mete out some punishment to himself for his failure to apprise the Sultan of his intention to raid Devgiri. He therefore requested of the Sultan a letter of
royal pardon, assuring him and his followers of their safety and of the Sultan’s favor; and he signed it, “your devoted slave.”
Ala-uddin then engaged his brother, Almas Beg, who was living at court in Delhi, to act as his go-between with the Sultan. He sent letters to the Sultan by way of his brother, expressing regret for his own shameful behavior in having gone to Devgiri without his uncle’s permission, and stating his conviction that the Sultan would surely arrest him and slay him as soon as he rode into Delhi. He begged his brother, therefore, to intercede for him with the Sultan, to assure his uncle of his heart-felt remorse. He added that, if he was not immediately assured of his uncle’s forgiveness, he would end his own life. Almas Beg then showed these sorrowful letters to the Sultan, thereby convincing him that, owing to Ala-uddin’s irrational fear of coming to Delhi, he should go himself to Kera to offer his nephew his personal assurances.
Assenting to this plan, the Sultan embarked with a thousand mounted troops and a small retinue which accompanied him down the Jumna river. They met Ala-uddin at Manukpur on July 19, 1296. Ala-uddin was accompanied by his entire army who were there, he said, as an honor guard to salute the Sultan. Almas Beg informed the Sultan that his brother, Ala- uddin, was still quite fearful of his uncle’s anger, and would be even more alarmed if he were approached by the one thousand troops; therefore, perhaps it would be best if the Sultan met with Ala-uddin accompanied only by his small retinue. And, …ah yes, perhaps it would be best if his retinue left their armor and weapons behind, so as not to fuel Ala-uddin’s suspicion that his uncle was out to get him. Some of the Sultan’s retinue, beginning to suspect treachery, objected vehemently, but Almas Beg explained the situation so plausibly and with such apparent solicitation for the easing of his brother’s mind that they at last relented.
When the Sultan reached the landing place, Ala-uddin, leaving his attendants behind, went to meet his uncle alone, and fell prostrate at his feet. The old man lifted him up, caressing his cheek, and embraced him, saying, “How could you be suspicious of me, who have brought you up from childhood, and cherished you with a fatherly affection, holding you dearer in my sight, if possible, than my own offspring?”
Then the Sultan took his nephew by the hand, and began to lead him back to the royal barge, when Ala-uddin made a signal to his guards who were just behind them. One of the guards, Mahmud bin Salim, rushed forward and swung his sword downward. The blow fell on the Sultan’s
TREACHERY AT MANUKPUR 87
shoulder, and the Sultan, stumbling, and realizing that he had walked into a trap, began running for the barge, crying out, “Ah! You villain, Ala-uddin!” But before he could reach the barge, another of Ala-uddin’s guards, Yektyar- uddin, caught the old man, threw him to the ground and lopped off his head with his sword.
After the Sultan’s attendants had also been slain, the head of the Sultan was stuck on the end of a spear and carried first through the camp and then through the cities of Manukpur, Kera, and Oudh. Later, the royal canopy of the Sultan was raised over the head of Ala-uddin, the new Sultan of India, with great ceremony and pomp. Ala-uddin cautiously bided his time at Kera for some months thereafter, and recruited a large army of 60,000 horsemen, purchased with his newly acquired wealth. Then, on October 22, 1296, at the height of the rainy season, he rode triumphantly into Delhi and took up his residence in the Red Palace as Sultan Ala-uddin Khalji.