When Jahani woke, her cheeks were wet with tears. She lay drowsily, thinking of her dream. So, the mother she collected flowers for was Zarah. And the boy who rode with her, even when she was young, truly looked like Azhar. Maybe it was just her mind playing tricks. She sat up. What if he didn’t return? She had never been overly kind to Azhar, polite yes, but not kind in the way one should be to a person who had shown such servitude all his life, a person who inhabited her dreams. It was very disconcerting. And did he only guard her because of Hafeezah’s command? Or Zarah’s? She frowned. Hafeezah had said he had offered to guard her. Offered. She rubbed her head. It was all too much.
Jahani took a deep breath, rose from the charpai and took in the room. The afternoon light slanted over the rich red Persian rugs on the floor and tapestries on the walls. Anjuli lay asleep on another charpai. Imagine, as a child she’d had this whole room just to herself. Had she rested on the same multicoloured cotton quilt, the weight of many pounds? She brought a corner to her nose, but it didn’t smell familiar. It was like being in a stranger’s house.
Anjuli was still resting, so Jahani re-braided her hair, then splashed water from a bowl on her face and arms. She was careful not to wet the bandage on her right elbow. The wound ached, but she could still bend it. Now she’d have three scars, but at least this new wound was on her other arm.
A shalwar qameez lay at the end of the charpai. She put it on and draped a thin dupatta over her hair. Then she left the room to find news of Azhar. Her door was one of many opening out to the large courtyard. She found Zarah in a sunny room overlooking the valley, sipping green tea.
When she noticed Jahani in the doorway, she smiled. ‘You are awake. Take subz chai with me.’
Jahani sat beside Zarah on a long divan covered with a red-and-blue carpet. She had only ever seen divans in Sameela’s house. How different her parents’ home was from the way she had been raised. She took the cup of sweet green tea and murmured her thanks.
‘How is your arm?’
Jahani tilted her head. ‘It’s not so bad. Is there news of Azhar?’ She tried to keep her tone even.
‘Ji, yes, he returned a few hours ago.’
Jahani put her cup down. ‘Where is he?’
Zarah touched her good arm. ‘Drink your chai. He is resting as you were. He has some wounds.’
Jahani stared at her, stricken.
Zarah hastened to add, ‘Not life-threatening, beti. Do not worry.’
‘Zarah jan?’ Jahani paused as Zarah winced. ‘I am sorry that I cannot call you mother yet. It feels too strange.’ Hafeezah still felt like her mother, though she couldn’t say that to Zarah. ‘I dreamed of you just before I woke.’
There was a short silence, then Zarah said, ‘I have always felt devastated about sending you away, but Baqir, your father, thought it best, and I could only bear it because I knew you were safe. Baqir wouldn’t let me—’ She stopped suddenly, then continued in a different vein. ‘Girls in the mountains, especially fair girls like you, have been sold as slaves or even killed. I didn’t want that to happen to you.’
‘But why am I in danger now? Azhar tells me I am but he cannot explain why. Nor can my … Hafeezah. But what if it is just any girl as you say?’
Zarah shook her head. ‘You are a special girl but, other than your red hair and colouring, I know not why you should be targeted.’ She cupped Jahani’s cheeks in her hands. ‘You are so beautiful. That alone would bring attention. Nine summers ago the light went out of my life when I had to send you away. I wanted to come to see you, but I couldn’t. Please understand, Baqir was afraid I would be watched. I was careful sending the greetings and money at Eids, too, though Baqir said not to.’ She sighed. ‘Someone must have been careless in delivering my last package for you to be found.’
To Jahani, Zarah sounded like an old woman rambling. ‘But why should there be danger now?’ she asked.
Zarah thought a moment. ‘Truly I do not know.’
‘I wish I understood.’ Jahani could tell by the pain in Zarah’s face that she wished the same. It was frustrating. She had thought Zarah would have all the answers.
Zarah put down her cup. ‘You must not worry for here you are safe. Your father’s troop guards this fort and we have extra protection from a local war lord, Muzahid Baig.’ She frowned in distaste. ‘He will not let us be attacked. Come, I will show you where you played as a child and your belongings from that time.’
Zarah took Jahani back to the room where she had rested. Anjuli was still sleeping peacefully. Quietly, Zarah pulled out trunks from underneath the charpai and showed Jahani the contents. Little outfits were folded carefully inside.
‘I couldn’t send everything with you,’ Zarah explained, ‘and every year I ordered a larger set of clothes—’ her breath caught, ‘—in case it was safe enough for you to return.’
Jahani put an arm around Zarah as the lady struggled not to weep. She understood the face of sorrow even though she felt like an imposter comforting her mother. She sighed; she felt as if Azhar had brought back the wrong girl.
After their chai, Zarah guided Jahani to the courtyard. ‘You must see our garden.’
Jahani knew what Zarah was doing: attempting to find something familiar to prompt her memory. But Jahani couldn’t pretend – she couldn’t remember anything. She felt nothing at all.
‘Jahani!’
She swung around to find Azhar limping across the courtyard with Hafeezah following closely behind. When he reached her his eyes softened.
Jahani stared at him. He looked as if he was barely managing to control himself.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked.
‘I’m fine.’ She glanced at Azhar’s leg but his shalwar hid any injuries. ‘Do you have a sword wound?’
He nodded. ‘It will heal. You have one too I see.’ His brow furrowed as he took in the bandage on her arm. ‘How did that happen?’
Jahani glanced at Zarah. She didn’t want to talk about her battle in the forest now. ‘Can I tell you later? Zarah wants to show me the garden.’
‘Come too, Azhar, Hafeezah,’ Zarah said. ‘It has been many a summer since we’ve sat in the garden together.’ She smiled at them. ‘We will hear about your adventures tonight.’
Jahani stiffened. She’d thought Zarah had seen Azhar and had sent him to find her in Sherwan. But he must have travelled straight to Sherwan from Persia. Things were getting more confusing by the minute. And she suspected only one person knew the answers … Azhar.
Guards dressed neatly in white shalwar qameezes, vests and grey turbans stood to attention along the walls of the courtyard with swords sheathed by their sides. Jahani stopped short when she saw them.
‘I assure you, we are quite safe,’ Zarah said. ‘Commander Saman trains the troop well and they vigilantly guard our small fort.’
Jahani felt a calmness slide over her at Zarah’s words and she slipped her hand into Hafeezah’s.
‘We can sit later in the pavilion,’ Zarah was saying as they entered an area enclosed by cypress trees. She turned to Jahani. ‘Azhar’s father was with us for a year when you were small, and he designed this Persian garden.’
Azhar turned slowly, taking in the garden. His hands were raised as if he were praying. His voice cracked when he said, ‘My father will be pleased to know it has flourished.’
Jahani gazed with wonder at the narrow canal of water running north and south and another crossing it east–west, portraying the rivers of Paradise. A fountain splashed at the most northern end where the pavilion stood. Orange trees, lavender and rose bushes lined the edges of the tiled canals. Their sweet fragrances stirred her heart, but she wasn’t sure whether it was because of the garden’s beauty or because she remembered it.
Zarah drew them to a grassy area. ‘When you were four, Azhar used to bring you here to play.’
Jahani glanced at him. How annoying that he knew things about her that she couldn’t recall.
Just then she heard a forlorn cry. She kne
w that sound and swung around. A peacock strutted before them, fanning its tail to warn them not to come closer. Jahani laughed. ‘How beautiful he is.’ And suddenly she felt as if she were in one of her dreams.
Then she gasped, for padding toward her was a huge snow leopard. This truly was her dream – the peacock and now the leopard.
Zarah was smiling. ‘Ao, Zadi,’ she called.
Shehzadi.
A knot unravelled in Jahani’s chest. In her mind she could hear a little girl who couldn’t pronounce her sheems.
Zadi, Zadi, let me ride you.
Jahani sank to her knees on the grass and couldn’t stop her tears. It felt as if the summers were rolling backward. The darkness was finally gone from her mind; she could see the missing pieces at last!
Voices around her chimed, but she couldn’t hear the words. All she could feel was the leopard’s furry cheek tickling hers and its wet tongue roughly licking her face. Without thinking, she put her arms around the leopard’s huge smoky grey neck.
‘Jahani—’ Azhar warned.
Zarah interrupted him. ‘It is all right, Azhar. Zadi is still tame.’
The leopard lay at Jahani’s feet, purring as Jahani stroked her back. ‘I remember her. I couldn’t say Shehzadi.’
Zarah crouched beside Jahani, her eyes bright with hope. ‘When you were little, Zadi was young and had just lost her first litter. She treated you like a cub. She followed you everywhere and expected you to reciprocate. She even let you ride her.’
Hafeezah broke in, ‘And when I took you and Azhar to Shogrun to see the wildflowers, Zadi came too. We rode horses and sometimes you rode Zadi.’
So my dream was a memory, after all. Azhar truly was the boy on the horse, Zadi was the leopard.
‘You loved Zadi so much,’ Zarah went on, ‘we were worried you’d miss her. And us,’ she added.
But she hadn’t. Instead she had blocked it all out so she’d feel no pain.
Zadi rose and padded away. After a few steps she stopped and looked back at Jahani.
‘She wants me to follow her,’ Jahani said.
Zarah smiled. ‘She has a surprise.’
They all followed Zadi to an enclosure. She jumped over a wall, but Zarah directed them through a gate. Inside were two fully grown snow leopards, one bigger one, whiter than Zadi, and another with a yellow tinge to its fur. This one was as playful as a kitten, but so big that she knocked Jahani over when she jumped up in greeting. The other leopard growled and Azhar was beside Jahani in an instant. She laughed and pushed him aside.
‘They mean well,’ Zarah said, ‘but they can be dangerous because of their size.’ She indicated the male. ‘This one is Yazan – he is most like Zadi in intelligence and personality. The one who jumped is Bili. I am training them to follow instructions and to guard. Yazan,’ she called, ‘battho!’
Immediately, Yazan sat in front of Jahani, his legs planted firmly on the ground like the pillars of a fort. His ice blue eyes stared at Jahani and then he blinked once. A warmth rose through her body and she felt at peace.
You are the one.
Where had the thought come from?
She regarded Yazan’s face and he blinked again. She blinked back and he opened his mouth as if smiling.
‘When the young ones are old enough to jump the wall I let them roam free,’ Zarah was saying. ‘But they often return.’
‘They are adorable.’ Jahani kept looking back at Yazan as they left the enclosure. He raced up to the corner to keep her in his sight for as long as possible, and then she heard him wail.
‘He doesn’t want you to leave,’ Zarah said.
‘How come Zadi remembers me from so long ago?’ Jahani asked.
Zarah glanced at Azhar and seemed to weigh her words before she spoke. ‘You were very close. Some days you even slept together.’ Then she said, ‘Zadi and Azhar saved your life. It was just before we sent you away.’
Jahani glanced at Azhar. ‘How?’
‘There was a dagger …’ Zarah paused.
Jahani stiffened as she thought of Sameela.
‘Hafeezah and I were watching you play when we saw Azhar and Zadi running toward you. Zadi reached you first and knocked you to the ground. We hurried out to scold her and found Azhar shielding you with his body. We found a knife embedded in a tree above you. We believed it was meant for you.’
‘Was that when Hafeezah took me away and became my mother?’
Zarah was silent a moment, and Jahani realised what she’d said. ‘I’m sorry, but there is so little I remember.’
‘It will return in time. Let us have chai in the garden pavilion before dinner. There is much to discuss. Bring the chai,’ she called to a servant who Jahani smiled at gratefully.
As they sat down, Jahani took in the beauty of Naran. In the distance she could see the snow-capped mountains. Below them, the river rushed through the valley of green fields toward forests and orchards.
‘The tall ranges in the north are the Qurraqorams.’ Hafeezah sounded wistful. ‘You should see the mountain trees blossom in spring and their orange and red leaves in the autumn.’
Hafeezah spoke so longingly that Jahani wished she could see them, too. She caught Azhar regarding her, but he looked away without speaking.
The servant brought ginger chai with nuts and sweet rice balls on a silver tray. Jahani felt strange to have someone wait on her; unlike Sameela, she wasn’t used to it.
Azhar tipped his head to the east. ‘Across these Hemalleh Mountains is the Kingdom of Qashmir. And there you’ll find a valley, just like this, with a blue lake similar to Saiful Maluk.’
‘Have you been there?’ Jahani asked.
Azhar inclined his head. ‘I have seen many places.’
‘How do you have the time? It took us over a moon to travel here.’
‘I travelled more when I was younger,’ Azhar said with a mysterious smile.
Jahani frowned.
‘About today—’ he started.
But Jahani cut him off. ‘Too much happened to discuss it here,’ she whispered. ‘Please, can we talk tomorrow? I have to ask you about a matter and I don’t want anyone else to hear.’
Azhar picked up his chai and addressed Zarah. ‘Aunty ji, what say I take Jahani and Anjuli to the flower fields tomorrow,’ he paused, then added, ‘to see if her memory can be jogged further. We can take the snow cats for a run and it is close enough to be safe.’
‘A good idea, Azhar, if you think your wounded leg will cope with a ride.’ Zarah smiled but she seemed nervous. ‘Hafeezah and I have much to discuss. I will alert Commander Saman in the morning to ready your mounts. You will need an armed escort.’
Hafeezah watched Jahani with concern in her eyes.
14
Flower Fields near Naran Kingdom of Kaghan
In the morning Jahani, Azhar and Anjuli set off on Chandi and Rakhsh with the snow leopards Zadi, Yazan and Bili running beside them. The air was much cooler than at Sherwan in late summer, and Jahani pulled her shawl tightly around her as Anjuli held the reins. Jahani tried not to notice the three guards following at a distance, so she turned her attention to the cats instead. Though Yazan was fully grown and bigger than his mother, he followed her obediently. Zadi growled if the young leopards strayed too far, but most of the time Yazan kept close to Jahani. It was as if he adored her and it made her heart fill.
They galloped across the valley until they reached a field of yellow, pink and white wildflowers. At the outer edge of the field, the mountains sheered to the ground, covered with green forests, and snow sparkled on the higher mountains behind. Jahani steered Chandi around in wonder, silenced by the beauty.
Anjuli squealed with delight. ‘The flowers are still blooming just like they were at Shogrun.’
‘The seasons come later this high,’ Azhar said.
‘It truly is a pari field,’ Anjuli said, ‘and much better to see the colours in the daylight.’ She jumped down and raced off to pick flowers with Bi
li cavorting around her. Zadi watched them with her ears pricked.
Jahani sat amongst the flowers and Yazan padded over to nuzzle his cheek against hers. Then he curled up beside her, his long tail resting under his chin. Azhar watched them with an enigmatic smile.
‘What is it?’ Jahani asked. ‘Why do you always seem to have a private jest?’
‘Do I?’ He raised his eyebrows in mock surprise and sat opposite her with his injured leg stretched straight. ‘Actually, I think it is happening again. Yazan likes you, just as Zadi did.’
Jahani ruffled the fur around the leopard’s neck. ‘He is gorgeous. I wish he were mine.’
‘Animals are never ours, but they can choose to be with us.’
She glanced at him. ‘Then I hope he stays with me.’ Their banter should have helped her talk about the day before, but all she managed after a pause was, ‘Yesterday, I was confused …’ She couldn’t go on. How could she say what she thought had occurred in the forest? He’d think she had taken leave of her senses.
‘It’s only understandable.’ He moved his injured leg and winced.
‘It is?’
‘You haven’t seen Zarah in nine summers.’
She paused. She hadn’t even been thinking about her birth mother. This bothered her too. Was it obvious that she didn’t have memories or filial feeling for Zarah? Different words wanted to jump out of her mouth, but she carefully said, ‘That is true, but something happened in the forest that changed everything. It even affected my reunion with my birth mother.’
A line creased his cheek as he smiled slightly. ‘Is this about how you escaped an armed warrior?’
‘Awa.’
‘What happened?’
‘You won’t laugh?’
He didn’t smile, but his eyes sparkled. ‘I’ll try not to.’
After taking a deep breath her words tumbled out. ‘Was it Chandi, or my own mind giving me directions? And the sword – it was as if it jumped into my hand of its own accord and embedded itself in his leg. I wouldn’t have had the strength. And when a rider tried to overtake me, Chandi bit his leg as if she were a tiger. It was as if I was living in one of Ammi’s pari tales from the mountains.’ Finally Jahani dared to look at Azhar.
Daughter of Nomads Page 9
