Jahani wished she could stay longer, but soon the guards would order her to leave. She stood and told her heart to be still; she had to control her fear. She knocked on the door, not daring to look back at her grandmother. Instantly the guards opened it, she walked through and the door was shut and locked behind her.
Then she drew in a breath, turned to the guards and said, ‘I am Jahanara Ashraf Shaheen Khan, Shehzadi of Hahayul. Take me to Dagar Khan.’
31
Baltit Fort
Kingdom of Hahayul
The guards shared a glance and didn’t move at first. Then, as one, they took hold of Jahani’s arms and marched her to a staircase. She tried to calm the pounding of her heart. This is what she had planned, but she still didn’t know if it would work.
On the next floor, the guards led Jahani past more rustling baskets to a wooden door decorated with a carving of a snake curling up and around a tree. The snake’s eyes seemed to follow Jahani and she shivered.
A guard knocked. There was a pause and then a voice inside invited entry. At last she would come face-to-face with Dagar Khan, the man who had killed children, wishing they were her. Would he have snakes crawling over him like Zahhak the Demon King of the ancient Persian tales?
The door swung open and she saw a middle-aged, bearded man dressed in a battle shalwar qameez with copper armour on his shoulders. A blue silk turban was wrapped around his helmet. His kamarband was also silken, but the sword that hung below it looked lethal. One of Hafeezah’s proverbs rushed into her mind: No matter how shiny the mirror it is always black from the back.
‘Another lost shehzadi, sire,’ one of the guards said without emotion.
‘Ha!’ The man grinned at someone behind him. ‘The girl who would be ghenish. I heard there was a new claim on my throne.’
Jahani stiffened. ‘I am Jahanara Ashraf Shaheen Khan, heir of the true tham of the Kingdom of Hahayul.’ She shook her head, allowing her dupatta to fall from her nose.
He stood and stared at her. ‘You can’t be serious. Stupid girl. Now I have won.’ He laughed. ‘Without you, Ali Shah can have no claim. Without the support of men, dear, you are nothing.’
Jahani hoped he was bluffing about Ali Shah. She stood erect, taller than him, willing herself not to flinch under his gaze. The guards still had hold of her arms. ‘Tell them to release me.’ She saw his eyes widen and his eyebrows rise; she had surprised him.
He waved at the guards and they retreated. She adjusted her dupatta and rubbed her elbows.
Just then another man unfolded himself from a divan at the back of the room and faced Jahani. He was older than Dagar Khan, with greying hair. He was dressed in the plain long robe of a holy man but, as he walked closer, she knew there was nothing holy about him. His eyes glinted with malice. She drew in a breath. In his gaze she could see knowledge; he knew who she was – he must be the pir.
She felt a fluttering rise through her body; there was a voice whispering in her mind but she couldn’t tell whose it was. Was it helpful or evil? She concentrated on shutting her mind.
‘If you really are the shehzadi it’s so convenient of you to fall in my lap,’ Dagar Khan said. ‘You will be killed right where you should have died in the first place. I so delight in such ironies.’
‘Will you free my grandmother now?’
‘Certainly not.’
There were no snakes on Dagar Khan’s shoulders. Aside from his clothes, he looked ordinary. If he walked down the street, no one would suspect how evil he was. Yet she felt a dark and heavy presence in the room. It made her feel faint. Was it him or the pir?
Dagar Khan stepped closer and ran her plait through his fingers. He sighed. ‘Such beautiful red hair. You look so like her. Could it be possible?’ He searched her face, her eyes. She took a step backward but he pulled her back. ‘Blue eyes, not many of those.’ He took his hands from her hair, rubbed them together and sniffed. Then he gave a slight moan.
Jahani watched him, aghast.
‘Your mother wasn’t willing, but I managed to plant my seed. It would give me the throne. After I’d killed your father I offered her a life with me, but she refused. Said she’d rather die with Ashraf.’ He screwed up his nose.
‘So you killed a woman with child.’ She spat out the words.
‘Certainly. I wouldn’t leave such a meaningful task to an unknown warrior.’
Dagar Khan circled Jahani while she fought the presence seeping into her head.
‘I heard you were in Muzahid’s zenana.’ He paused in front of her. ‘That must have been fun for you.’ His sarcasm was too intimate and she bit her lip. ‘Before that you apparently died in a blizzard on the Haramosh Mountains. One of the guards managed to find his way to Skardu where he raised the alarm that all of the party had perished, except for himself. A message was even despatched to Muzahid that his bride had died, and parties were sent to search for your body.’
Jahani took a deep breath.
‘Could you be the real shehzadi?’ He murmured it to himself, but Jahani could tell it was all an act. ‘Let’s see if you are.’ He addressed one of the guards. ‘Bring my scout.’
Within a minute the guard returned with a man.
Dagar Khan motioned to him. ‘Come here, Rabb.’
Jahani’s knees nearly gave way. She had thought Rabb was dead.
‘Is this the girl you abducted?’
Rabb was subdued and barely nodded after glancing at her.
Dagar Khan grunted. ‘Fortunately for you she has turned up of her own accord.’ He waved Rabb away. ‘Take him back.’
‘How did you reach Hahayul anyway?’ Dagar Khan asked her suddenly.
The swiftness of the question unnerved her and she wondered how to answer. Had Rabb mentioned the carpet? A glance at Dagar Khan decided her. She must play a game, too, if she were to win. ‘Across the mountains.’
‘With a guide?’
She inclined her head.
‘Incredible! And I hear you escaped the war lord. He betrayed me, but now I have you. Strange how my men didn’t see you at the checkpoints.’ He frowned at her, his mask dropping, and he glanced at the pir. Jahani caught the slight tip of the pir’s head.
Dagar Khan smiled. ‘I must prove to the kingdom that you are dead. The only way to do that is to have an execution.’ He was quite mad.
Jahani felt panic rising. Mad men didn’t follow logical patterns. Could her plan still work?
Dagar Khan rubbed his hands together. ‘What a tamasha it will be.’
Jahani stilled her heart. He wanted a public spectacle. Kaniza had been correct in her surmisal. ‘My people won’t let you.’
‘Ha. What people? You have only just arrived. My spies say the only person you’ve met with, other than those at your boarding house, is your grandmother.’
Jahani froze. He knew where she’d been staying. Hafeezah, Gulzar and Anjuli were all in danger.
‘You could have been amassing support, though from whom is a mystery. The whole army here is on my side, not yours.’
She thought of the soldier she spoke to on the road and the things he had said. Perhaps Dagar Khan didn’t know his army as well as he thought. Nor his horses, she hoped.
‘So you see you are quite alone.’
Suddenly she felt as if she were choking; the whispering in her mind flooded back. She felt a presence probing, trying to enter her head. It was heavy, grasping. Her eyes closed as she concentrated on blocking it as if she were pushing against a door that an intruder was forcing open. Instantly it stopped and she staggered forward. Her mind cleared and she opened her eyes. The pir was staring at her.
He turned to Dagar Khan. ‘This is not an intelligent plan. You must kill her now.’
Dagar Khan frowned at him. ‘You forget yourself, Zal.’
The pir lowered his voice. ‘She is dangerous. Need I remind you, sire, who has put you here. And how?’
‘It is because of my connection to this Ayeshe family that your power has w
orked.’
The pir’s face darkened. He looked ready to disagree, but then controlled himself. He stared balefully at Jahani.
Dagar Khan called a name and a young man appeared at his side. ‘Issue a proclamation – there will be a tamasha next week. Invite everyone. It’s too early for Nowruz, so we will have that ridiculous Bophau, the barley sowing festival, instead.’
Jahani cried, ‘But they have no money for seed. You’ve robbed them of everything.’
He looked through her as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘We’ll have it early. See, I can do anything, even change the seasons.’ He glanced at the pir. ‘I will take away their hope by killing this shehzadi and give them their Bophau festival. They will finally love me.’
He focused on Jahani and she was alarmed to see how crazed his eyes looked. ‘I will promise them money for seed.’
Would there be enough time for her plan? Fear germinated inside her mind and she squashed it before it could grow.
Dagar Khan lifted his chin at the guards. ‘Take her away.’
‘Where shall we put the prisoner, sire?’
‘In my zenana.’ He sounded smug. ‘Put her with the others.’ He drew closer to Jahani and gave her a grin. It was a parody, like a tiger’s grin, and she steeled herself for what might come next.
‘Your grandmother’s heart will probably fail now. How sad. If she’s still alive after witnessing your death I’ll kill her, but first she will watch you die.’
Jahani heard Dagar Khan’s voice echoing down the corridor as the guards pushed her along. ‘Be careful with her. I don’t want bruised fruit on display at the tamasha.’ Then he giggled like a child. That was more frightening than if he’d ordered them to torture her.
The guards loosened their grip on her arms but kept her walking between them. To passers-by she could have been having a scenic tour. They climbed another set of wooden steps. Now they were on the third level of the fort.
One guard took a large iron key from his waistband. Jahani stared – it looked as long as her forearm. He unlocked a door with iron hinges snaking across its width. From inside there came strange scuffling noises. Too loud for snakes, she hoped. Then there was a girlish giggle. The guard pushed the door.
A girl, wild-eyed with loose red hair, came flying toward them, but the guard was ready for her. He caught her and pushed her back. Then the guard with the key shoved Jahani inside and shut and locked the door.
Jahani stood surveying the incredible scene before her. She had thought Muzahid’s zenana was beautiful with rugs, curtains and cushions, but this was much more sumptuous. Rich carpets lined the walls and floors, a eunuch stood by a bathing room and a grand fireplace was built into the wall. Off to the sides she saw smaller rooms with bejewelled curtains hanging around charpais, and surrounding it all were high arched windows with wooden lattice crisscrossing the view of the mountains and sky.
Reluctantly Jahani lowered her gaze from the windows. Standing there, staring at her, were nine girls of similar age, their bodies dressed in silk and brocade and dripping with jewels. They all had red hair.
The one who had tried to escape stood in the middle of the group, quietly weeping while she sucked her thumb. Another didn’t meet Jahani’s gaze. Yet another stared at her defiantly. Some of the girls looked on vacantly as if they were drugged. What had happened to them?
Finally one spoke. ‘Welcome to Dagar Khan’s collection of dolls. My name is Zaibu, the most recent acquisition – before you, that is.’ She gave a faint smile.
‘My name is Jahanara,’ Jahani said.
The defiant girl marched up to her. ‘My name is Jahanara. I am the lost shehzadi. You have to think of another name.’
Jahani licked her lips; she felt she was in a nightmare. ‘You may call me Jahani,’ she said softly.
The girl seemed satisfied. She walked to a side room and sat on a charpai to sew.
Zaibu took Jahani to another small room opposite Jahanara’s. ‘You can share with me,’ Zaibu said. ‘I’m sorry about Jahanara.’ She grimaced as she said the name. ‘Who knows what her real name is. She has been with Dagar Khan since she was two.’
‘So, he didn’t kill them all,’ Jahani whispered.
‘Not all. He kept those who could pass as a princess, who were beautiful enough in his eyes. All those who weren’t, he killed. These girls all believe they are princesses. Jahanara isn’t the only one who knows no other name.’
‘Why does he keep you all?’
Zaibu pressed her lips together before she spoke. ‘Jahanara thinks he will marry one of us to turn into a ghenish. She believes it will be her. But now we have you as well she will feel challenged. I suggest you don’t antagonise her. She has a frightful temper.’
‘What do you think he will do?’
‘I don’t think he knows who the real shehzadi is. He will just choose one of us to kill to prove the shehzadi is dead.’
‘So the people will have no one else to hope for,’ Jahani added. She regarded Jahanara in her room. Like Jahani, the girl was tall and her hair was the same russet colour. She also had blue eyes. The resemblance was uncanny, like looking into distorted glass.
‘All we have to do is not be noticed.’ Zaibu continued. ‘Jahanara will do the rest.’
‘But we can’t just let her die without her realising what is happening.’
‘You try talking to her. You won’t get far. Dagar Khan, or his horrible pir, has reordered her mind.’
Jahani soon learned that Zaibu was right. No amount of telling Jahanara that Dagar Khan didn’t want a queen would convince her. She just became more incensed until Jahani left her alone. Jahani also realised that some girls had never progressed beyond their age of capture, like the girl who sucked her thumb. One even wet her charpai at night.
Within a few nights in the zenana, Jahani’s mind was full of doubt. Dagar Khan could be right about her having no support. Rahul said the nomad army was ready along with Ali Shah’s, but what if they didn’t get there in time for the tamasha? What if her plan didn’t work?
You are not alone, Shehzadi.
She started. It was Yazan. Where are you?
Not far away. Chandi has been busy. Kaveh also. We are ready.
Thank you, dear ones.
She berated herself. She had to keep strong like her uncle Kabeer told her in Muzahid’s fort. Her grandmother’s words floated into her head and settled like feathers: only Qhuda could bind demons. She would remember that the next time the pir tried to break her with his will. She had a feeling that would be soon.
32
Baltit Fort
Kingdom of Hahayul
Jahani was dreaming. She was in Lalazar, collecting wildflowers with the boy Azhar. He whispered to her, ‘Wake up, Jahani, wake up.’ She opened her eyes. The voice in the dream was not that of a boy.
‘Jahani, are you awake?’
She felt a jolt in her chest. It was Azhar’s true voice, and it was close by. She carefully crept off the charpai without disturbing Zaibu and peered through the latticed windows. In front of the moon she saw a shadow. And there he was, sitting on the carpet, hovering outside. Azhar had returned.
‘I hope no one sees you,’ she whispered.
She heard him chuckle. ‘It is the third watch, everyone is asleep. Even the guards on duty.’
‘Did Chandi ask you to come?’
‘She told Rakhsh.’
‘So you can hear your stallion, too?’
He tilted his head and grinned. ‘Sometimes.’ Then he sobered. ‘Tomorrow is the tamasha and we need to trap Dagar Khan and his army.’
‘I am the bait,’ she said simply.
His eyes widened. ‘It’s too risky. Let me take you away tonight.’ He gave the wooden lattice a tug. ‘I can get you out of there.’
Jahani bristled. ‘I can’t leave. I don’t want a war. My way will be peaceful whether the people rise up to support me or not, and regardless of whether Dagar Khan kills me.’
‘I
can’t protect you like this. It isn’t safe. Come with me now.’
‘Stop.’ Her voice broke out of its whisper. She checked behind her, then spoke softly. ‘If I go with you now, it will never be over.’
He stared at her, then murmured, ‘The people will accept you.’ The carpet hovered closer. ‘Jahani—’ Azhar put his fingers through the wooden lattice and she touched them without hesitation. ‘I will be here for you, whatever you wish to do.’
She tried to smile. ‘Pir Zal is the biggest danger. He is controlling Dagar Khan. He wants me dead and the sooner the better.’ She wondered if her fear showed.
His fingers tightened around hers. ‘Dagar Khan enjoys a big tamasha. There are banners up and he’s sent invitations to other kingdoms. He’s promised bear baiting, dancing, wrestling and, of course, a surprise entertainment.’ His mouth tightened. ‘It is dangerous, Jahani, and people are wary of a backlash from the spirit world for having the festival too early, yet they are pouring into the valley regardless. The good news is the weather is breaking, allowing another army we weren’t anticipating to cross the mountains from Skardu. It’s led by your uncle Kabeer Yazeed with his commander, Qadi Ghulam.’
The hairs on Jahani’s arms rose. ‘Truly? They helped me before you arrived at Muzahid’s fort.’ Then she said firmly, ‘Dagar Khan and Pir Zal must be stopped.’
‘Awa.’ He fell quiet, regarding her. ‘There has also been a message of support from the Kingdom of Qashmir.’
‘Zeb-un-Nissa has done that.’
‘Who?’
‘There is so much I haven’t told you. Shehzadi Zeb-un-Nissa was visiting Muzahid’s fort. She sent a message to Qashmir for me. And one to the emperor, though she doesn’t think he will answer her.’
There was another silence, then Azhar said, ‘Jahani, I saw your grandmother.’
‘How did you manage that? Did you dress up as a girl and deliver food?’
He grinned. ‘Not quite. More the same way I’m seeing you now.’
‘The carpet? And her heart didn’t fail? Dagar Khan thinks she will die if she sees me executed.’
The Leopard Princess Page 20
