‘I don’t want to play your game.’ Rahul tensed himself for another blow, but he saw Muzahid give a slight shake of his head.
‘I will make it worth your while. When I become Tham of Hahayul and have control of the Silk Route and all the northern kingdoms, I will give you a position, nay, land. That’s what you’d like best, I think.’
Rahul opened his mouth, but Muzahid cut in. ‘I have already disposed of Baqir Abbaas, the girl’s adoptive father, for carelessly letting the girl slip through his fingers.’ He grinned. ‘His wife, too – she actually tried to shield him, the fool.’ Rahul hoped Jahani never found out. Muzahid’s smile disappeared as he stood closer to Rahul. ‘If you don’t hand her over to me, I will cut off the heads of your family, starting with your warrior girl cousin.’
The blood chilled in Rahul’s veins. Muzahid knew. Despite their efforts to turn her into a nomad by dyeing her hair and covering her in silver, Muzahid knew they had Jahani. But would he kill her, if she was so important? More likely Muzahid would use her for his own evil purposes. And what if she wasn’t this special girl? Rahul felt vomit rise in his throat.
‘I need your support in this, gypsy prince.’
Rahul swallowed. ‘I can’t give it. I don’t know where she is.’
Muzahid flicked his chin at the men holding Rahul. One cut the cord on his wrists and splayed his left hand on the table in front of Muzahid, showing the stump of his middle finger.
‘The other hand,’ Muzahid snapped. ‘Let’s see if he’s as good a swordsman after this.’
Not again! Rahul thought, struggling until he was punched in the face. His head swung, and then he felt searing pain as the knife sliced through his finger. He opened his eyes and saw the stump, blood spreading over the table.
‘Another one?’ the man asked.
Muzahid shook his head. ‘Give him a cloth.’
Rahul steeled himself not to cry out, gritting his teeth as his hand was wrapped. The blood seeped through and dripped onto his clothes.
Muzahid didn’t need to lower his voice for Rahul to catch the menace in his next words. ‘You will lose much more if you do not deliver the girl. If you value your descendants you will do as I say. You have a week to bring her to me at Babusar Pass. Just you and the girl. If you leave tonight, you’ll make it before the week is out.’
Rahul felt faint. How did he bear this pain when he was ten?
‘Get him out of my sight.’ Muzahid waved them away.
3
Lalazar
Kingdom of Kaghan
That evening Yazan came. Jahani saw the huge snow leopard sitting on his haunches by Chandi. When she had left Naran with the nomads, Yazan had continued tracking her. The thought of his shadow made her feel safe. She raced over and wrapped her arms around him in greeting; his white fur was growing thicker for the approaching winter. As they sat together, the same calm that she had felt when she first met him at Zarah and Baqir’s enveloped her body.
Peace to you, my beautiful friend, Jahani thought.
We need to travel tonight. More danger comes.
Jahani wondered if Muzahid would return. Or did Dagar Khan have men nearby as well?
Where to?
North. To the Qurraqorams. Your home.
She frowned. Were the northern kingdoms really her home? Less than a moon ago Azhar had tried to take her there on his flying carpet, but she had refused, knowing her place was with the nomads. If only they could find Rahul.
She stared at Yazan. So you can truly hear me?
I could always, but now you can hear me. You are the one I must follow.
Thank you. She smiled and he opened his mouth as if he were smiling, too. Just then Jahani heard a twig snap. She spun around, Muzahid’s attack heavy on her mind, and gasped in surprise.
It was her nomad mother, Yasmeen. ‘Your snow chita?’ she asked. It was the first time Yasmeen had seen him.
Jahani nodded, glad she understood. ‘His name is Yazan.’
Her words brought joy to Yasmeen’s wrinkled face. ‘This is a good name. He will be determined to protect you.’ She bent to pat Yazan, while he purred. ‘He is a special chita.’ She looked up at Jahani. ‘You are a special girl, also.’ She stood and said, ‘Bring him.’
Jahani thought, Yasmeen said for you to come with me. Come if you wish. But there are dogs.
I know. The thought slipped into Jahani’s mind like a chuckle.
Yasmeen led them to Tafeeq’s tent. ‘Brother,’ she called.
Tafeeq emerged from the curtained area of the tent; he had just washed by the look of his wet hair. Yazan stood beside Jahani, while Rahul’s dog, Layla, gave a low growl.
‘It’s fine, Layla,’ Jahani said. ‘You could be friends with Yazan.’ Layla put her nose on her paws as if her world had fallen apart. ‘What’s wrong with her?’ Jahani asked Tafeeq.
‘Rahul is still missing. He is nowhere to be found.’
‘He isn’t unconscious in the forest?’ Jahani asked.
‘I’ve looked. Muzahid must have him again.’
‘What do you mean, “again”
Tafeeq glanced at Yasmeen who began speaking at length. Jahani caught the words ‘snow leopard’, ‘Rahul’, ‘war lord’, but Yasmeen spoke too fast for Jahani to understand more.
‘What did she say?’ Jahani asked Tafeeq when Yasmeen stopped.
Tafeeq showed them into his tent and to a charpai. ‘Please, sit here. Yasmeen wants me to tell you important news and, considering the war lord may have Rahul, it is imperative that you understand every word.’ Jahani perched on the end of the charpai with Yazan by her feet.
Tafeeq watched Jahani reflectively before starting. ‘This will be difficult for you to hear, but the war lord has Rahul because he wants something.’
Jahani held her breath.
‘He wants you.’
‘I know. It’s because I’m his runaway bride. He wants to kill me to restore his honour.’
‘It is not just because of that.’ Tafeeq sighed heavily as he flicked a glance at his sister. ‘Many summers ago, Yasmeen had a dream about a girl-child with red hair. When she first laid eyes on you, she knew you were the child from her dream.’
Jahani’s head felt as if it were spinning. She didn’t want to ask her next question, but she had to. ‘When she laid eyes on me when I was born?’
‘Nay, you were but two summers when Rahul found you,’ Tafeeq said gently. ‘You were old enough to say your name and to call for your mother.’
‘Rahul found me?’ Jahani stared at him, aghast. This could not be happening again! Not when she was just beginning to trust that the nomads were her true family and was becoming familiar with Yasmeen as her mother. This would be the third time she had lost a mother after Hafeezah and then Zarah. The hurt cut through her heart.
Tafeeq’s voice pierced through her thoughts. ‘We were north in the Kingdom of Hahayul due to Yasmeen’s dream. There was an uprising. The royal family and many other important people were slaughtered.’
‘But what does that have to do with me?’
His eyebrows rose. ‘Yasmeen believes you are the lost shehzadi of Hahayul.’
She took in a sudden breath. ‘Does Rahul think this, too?’
‘I doubt it. I think he believes that poor little shehzadi was murdered along with her parents. Though others believe she survived, as there was talk of not finding her body. But legends like this grow to give people hope in dark times.’
‘Was her name the same as mine?’
‘Ji, but there were many little girls named after her. She was called Jahanara, like the Mughal princess in Delhi. The girl had reddish hair, like yours, but that is not unusual for children from the northern kingdoms. Dagar Khan abducted two-year-old girls with red hair in his quest to find her. It was a terrible time. We took you in to save your life – you were in danger, even as a common child, because of your fairness, your eyes and hair. There was even trouble during the time we had you. When you were four
, there was an accident where you fell from a pony. Rahul broke your fall and Azhar discovered the straps had been cut. You injured your arm and Yasmeen stitched it up.’
Jahani touched the scar on the inside of her left arm.
‘We thought you’d be safer in Naran where you’d be secluded from plain sight.’
She had been secluded her whole life, it seemed; even those nine summers growing up in Sherwan she was in hiding. And even now with the nomads. Would it ever end?
‘Rahul was abducted at that time also,’ Tafeeq continued. ‘He was ten. We thought it was terror tactics to make us give up our land. But the war lord, Muzahid Baig,’ Jahani drew in a breath at the name, ‘said he would kill Rahul if we didn’t give him a huge ransom. He sent me one of Rahul’s fingers to show he was serious.’
‘That’s inhuman.’
Tafeeq inclined his head. ‘We didn’t have the money to pay him off, but Baqir Abbaas and his wife, Zarah, did. The war lord would never have accepted it from them, however, so Baqir gave us the money for our land. We also gave you to them. We thought this solved two problems: your safety as well as Rahul’s. He is my only son.’ He wiped a hand across his eyes.
Jahani was stunned. Yasmeen reached over and took her hand, but Jahani couldn’t return her squeeze. She was now devoid of anger or even sadness – all she felt was shock. She wasn’t a nomad, after all. So who was she? This lost princess? Or a poor bazaar orphan? She glanced at Yazan in confusion.
He slowly blinked his eyes. Go north.
‘I should leave,’ she said suddenly. ‘It will be better for everyone if I am not here.’
‘It is true something needs to be done,’ agreed Tafeeq. ‘If Rahul doesn’t return soon, I will take some men to find Muzahid’s camp. Before I do, I will choose an escort to take you north to safety. It will be faster than the tribe moving with flocks, especially as Muzahid must have an inkling about where you are. Torture makes the strongest of us say words we don’t want to.’
‘I can go alone.’ She had Chandi and Yazan to show the way.
‘Ahh.’ Tafeeq’s head shook slightly. ‘We are honour-bound to care for you. I cannot allow you to traverse the mountains alone.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Jahani said then. Rahul had been captured because of her. She was a target. Anyone who tried to protect her got in the way of a sword. Or a dagger. She thought of Sameela, her beautiful best friend who was killed by a knife. She was finally realising why she had died.
There was a shout and Layla bounded outside. Tafeeq stood quickly. ‘Stay here,’ he said and hurried out.
Yasmeen stroked Jahani’s hair and murmured words. Jahani didn’t need to know what was said – she could tell they were words a mother croons to her child when she is upset. They made her eyes sting and fill with tears. Then Yasmeen rocked her like Hafeezah had and Jahani knew her love was true.
They heard an excited bark. Jahani wiped her nose on her shawl and sat up straighter. Yazan padded closer to Jahani and stood beside her. At times he seemed to act like a wolf. Then Tafeeq staggered through the entrance holding up a man.
‘Rahul!’ Jahani cried.
He was barely conscious and there was blood on his face and clothes; a bloody cloth covered his right hand. How much of the blood was his?
‘Muzahid has let him go, so there will be a reason.’ Tafeeq laid Rahul on the charpai and began unravelling the cloth. ‘Not again!’ Tafeeq cried when he saw Rahul was missing another finger. ‘That man is an animal!’
Jahani shuddered.
‘Yasmeen, fetch hot water and clean cloths. Quickly!’ Tafeeq said.
As Yasmeen and Jahani hurried to assist Tafeeq, Yazan loped off into the forest.
Qhuda keep you safe, she thought.
And you, came the reply.
When Jahani finally returned to her tent, Neema was sitting with the other women around the cooking fire. ‘I saw a leopard behind Tafeeq’s tent,’ she said.
‘Ji, he’s mine.’ Jahani watched her face, but Neema didn’t react.
Instead she asked, ‘What’s going on? You’ve been in Tafeeq’s tent for a long time.’ The usual edge to her voice was muted.
‘Rahul has been found. Muzahid had him.’
Neema grabbed her arm and Jahani winced. ‘Is he hurt?’
‘Ji, but he will heal. Muzahid cut off his finger.’ She gulped down a sob.
‘Again?’
Jahani inclined her head.
‘When Rahul was held to ransom as a boy he wasn’t the same for a long time. The war lord took a finger then, too. But he took even more than that – he took Rahul’s innocence.’ Neema spat the last word.
Jahani stared at her as a thought struck like a sword blow. Her adopted father Baqir knew Muzahid and still he had planned to marry her to him.
Later, Yasmeen beckoned for Jahani to sit on her mat. The first thing she did was touch the silver taveez at Jahani’s neck. Jahani couldn’t catch every word Yasmeen said, but she could understand her better than when she first came. ‘You were wearing this when Rahul found you,’ Yasmeen said.
Anjuli sat down beside Jahani and held her hand.
‘You must always wear this taveez for Qhuda’s protection.’ Yasmeen took off Jahani’s beaded nomad necklace. Then she took out the earrings, nose-ring and other silver nomad jewellery. ‘You mustn’t look like a nomad now,’ she said.
Then, as Yasmeen and Anjuli began to undo Jahani’s tiny plaits, Yasmeen talked about her vision. Anjuli helped to translate.
‘I saw the lost shehzadi, a girl with red hair and a snow leopard, come to the northern kingdoms, and she brought peace without a war. There was a man, too, but I didn’t see his face.’
Jahani didn’t say anything, out of respect, but surely it could only have been a dream. How could peace be won without blood being shed? Imagine a girl like her telling Muzahid or Dagar Khan to order their armies to lay down their weapons. She frowned. Even though she didn’t think it was possible, it would be an amazing thing to see.
After three hours the tiny plaits were loosened and Jahani was able to comb and braid her hair into one plait again.
Yasmeen put all the jewellery inside a pouch. ‘This is for you. To remember.’
Jahani touched the coloured embroidery and blue beads on the pouch. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered, and she clung to Yasmeen. As they embraced, Jahani remembered the comfort she’d felt when she was a small child. And suddenly it was as if she were four again. The knowledge slipped into her mind that she hadn’t wanted to leave Yasmeen when the nomads took her to Zarah’s house. She had wept all the way up the hill to the white stone fort. Layla was barking for her to stay and she couldn’t see Rahul.
‘I remember you,’ Jahani said, tears coursing down her face. ‘Ammi, I remember that day I left, and being here with the nomads and the animals, and riding with Rahul.’ A thread that had always dangled out of reach in her mind was within her grasp at last.
Yasmeen stroked her head, and when Jahani pulled back to see her face, she saw Yasmeen was weeping, too. Yet she looked happy. She cradled Jahani’s face in her hands. ‘You will always be the nomad daughter of my heart. You will travel as we do, but you will come to rest and bring joy to a kingdom overcome with sorrow. You will give it back its name of Happiness.’
Then Yasmeen pulled folded clothes from a bag and handed them to Jahani. ‘Wear these,’ she said.
Anjuli sighed in wonder. ‘She made them for you.’
‘These are the clothes I saw in the vision,’ Yasmeen said.
Yasmeen unpicked the stitches on the side of Jahani’s tribal dress and helped Jahani into her new clothes. First she donned a thick grey shalwar, then a leaf-green dress was placed over the top. The dress was colourful like the nomads’ clothes, but it had less stitching and fell like a man’s coat to her knees. Then Yasmeen presented Jahani with an embroidered kamarband – a belt for a sword and dagger. Jahani looked at Yasmeen in surprise.
‘In my dream you had a curve
d sword embedded with garnets,’ Yasmeen explained.
Jahani tied on the waistband and pulled out her sword from the cloth bag. Azhar had said to keep it hidden, but Jahani knew now was the right time to wear it.
With reverence, Yasmeen touched one of the garnets on the hilt. ‘This is the sword I saw in my dream! You will change these northern kingdoms. I know it.’
Anjuli’s mouth fell open in awe but Jahani just couldn’t believe all these things could be true.
Next Yasmeen gave Jahani sheepskin boots, gloves and a woollen cloak. ‘Soon it will be winter,’ Yasmeen said, ‘and you will need this on your journey north.’
Jahani tried on the cloak. It had a fur-trimmed hood, which framed her face. Finally Yasmeen gave her a thick blanket made from goat’s hair and wool. Then she found warm clothes for Anjuli.
‘Are we leaving?’ Anjuli whispered. Jahani nodded as she slipped her nomad pouch into her shalwar pocket.
Yasmeen wiped away tears. ‘Pack these in your bag with your other things and return to Tafeeq – he has more to tell you. Take Anjuli also.’ Then she held Jahani close to her breast. ‘Visions do not always guarantee success or mean that your life will be spared. All I know is that you are this girl – the shehzadi – and you have a destiny to fulfil.’
With a jolt Yasmeen’s words reminded Jahani of Azhar. Did he know of this, too? ‘Are there other people like you who can foretell the future or a person’s path?’ she asked. Anjuli repeated it for Yasmeen in Gujjari.
Yasmeen thought a moment. ‘There are many pirs in this empire. Maybe some have been given these words, maybe not.’
Jahani and Anjuli arrived at Tafeeq’s tent under the cover of darkness. There they found Rahul sitting up, drinking chai. It had been six hours since his return.
‘How are you feeling?’ Jahani asked quickly. She felt so responsible for his wounds.
Rahul grimaced. ‘Being beaten is never my favourite pastime.’
Jahani glanced at his bandaged hand, but he didn’t offer a comment.
Tafeeq paced around the tent. ‘Rahul has made a decision and I cannot dissuade him.’ She caught the inflection in his voice: could she dissuade him?
The Leopard Princess Page 2
