An army came to a town called Saidpur, and afterwards there was little left of it.
I am not going to tell you what soldiers do to a town, because it is late. What matters here is that when the army moved on, it took people with it. Ordinary people, roped together, carrying the things taken out of their own houses.
And walking among them, roped in with the rest, was Guru Nanak Dev Ji.
He had come back to Saidpur just before it happened. He had not run. He was there, so he was taken, along with everybody else.
Bhai Mardana Ji was taken too, and an officer told him to lead an officer's horse.
Let go of the horse, said Guru Ji. Sing.
So Bhai Mardana Ji let the rein drop and lifted his rabab and played, walking along in the middle of all those frightened people, and the horse followed him anyway, with nobody holding it at all.
They gave Guru Ji a load to carry on his head, and people walking beside him swore afterwards that it never touched him. It went along a hand's width above his hair the whole way, as though somebody else had hold of it.
At the camp they set the captives to work.
The women were put to grinding wheat, and rich men who had never lifted anything in their lives were put to heavy work, and two grinding stones were pushed in front of Guru Ji and Bhai Mardana Ji and they were told to grind.
An officer named Mir Khan saw all this, and went to the emperor.
There are two holy men among the prisoners, he said. They came in singing. One carries his load in the air and the other is followed by a horse.
And Babar said: if there was a man like that in that town, why did we ever attack it.
Then he came down to the camp to look for himself.
He walked past the queens and the great ladies grinding wheat, and past wealthy men doing the work of animals, and came to where the two of them sat.
And the two grinding stones were going round and round.
Nobody was touching them.
Guru Ji had his eyes shut. Babar wanted to speak to him and found that he could not, so he stood and waited, and after a while Guru Ji opened his eyes and sang.
It was about what had been done to that town. It was sung in front of the man who had done it, in his own camp, surrounded by his own soldiers.
And when it ended, Babar came forward and bent down and kissed his feet, and all the great men of his court bowed too.
Forgive me, said Babar. Take a gift from me. Anything.
I want nothing, said Guru Ji.
If you wish to give me something, let these people go. And give them back what was taken from them.
And Babar did.
Every captive in that camp was untied and their belongings handed back. And the freed people would not walk home without him, so he walked back to Saidpur at the head of them, and Babar lifted the blockade and ordered that nobody was to be troubled again.
But it was not finished, and Guru Ji knew it was not.
Because there were more of them. Other people, taken from villages round about, held somewhere else, whose families at home had given them up for dead.
So he turned round and walked back into Babar's camp a second time. And sang again.
Stay as my guest, said Babar.
Guru Ji stayed three days. And for all three days he sat and looked at the prisoners.
On the third day Babar asked to be forgiven again.
If you want forgiveness, said Guru Ji, let all of them go.
I will do whatever you say, said Babar. Only bless me that my kingdom lasts.
And Guru Ji told him how a kingdom lasts.
Belong to this country, if you are going to rule it. Treat Hindu and Muslim exactly the same. Judge without leaning. Respect holy people. Be gentle with whoever has lost.
Justice is the sun, he said. A kingdom is the shadow it casts. Take away the sun and there is no shadow.
And Babar set them all free.
Goodnight. He walked into that camp roped up like everybody else, and he did not walk out until they all did.