The Leopard Princess

by Rosanne Hawke

  Kifayat stood to join Azhar. ‘It would have been a tempt­ation, but you must remember we’re not ready yet, nor is she.’ He laid a hand on Azhar’s shoulder. ‘Time is short, but the journey north to the Qurraqoram Mountains can help prepare her and raise support. Didn’t she want to live with the nomads to search for her identity?’

  ‘Baleh, yes, but I do not know if that has been accomplished. What if she still believes she is a nomad and refuses the call when it comes?’

  ‘You must keep searching,’ Bilal said quickly. ‘She mustn’t fall into the wrong hands.’

  ‘There’s also the matter of her spending so much time in Rahul’s company,’ Azhar lamented. It still stung that Jahani used Rahul as an excuse not to fly north with him. ‘Rahul was injured. She could be won over in such circumstances.’

  Kifayat’s eyes widened in alarm, then narrowed. ‘There is nothing you can do. The girl must choose. Not only her path, but her love. It cannot be forced.’ But he sounded unconvinced.

  Azhar looked at him sharply.

  Kifayat shook his head at Bilal. ‘I will pray, for now she is in the hands of Qhuda.’

  ‘I, too, will pray for Qhuda’s will,’ Bilal said.

  Azhar sighed. ‘I will take my leave, Pedar, and continue the search. There are few tracks, and they will need to travel through at least two known passes: Babusar and Haramosh.’ He paused, deliberating.

  ‘There is your answer – wait at the northernmost pass and you will find her.’

  ‘But what if something befalls her earlier? How many others will have this same idea? I have been to Babusar Pass already—’

  Kifayat was swift. ‘Did any soldiers see you?’

  Azhar shook his head. ‘I was careful, but Muzahid’s men are checking all travellers. I saw Hafeezah there, returning to the Kingdom of Hahayul. She told me Muzahid Baig has killed Baqir and Zarah Abbaas for allowing Jahani to escape. He won’t rest until he finds her.’

  ‘And neither will you, aziz.’

  Azhar would stay awake for moons on end if it would lead him to Jahani.

  6

  En Route to Babusar Pass

  Kingdom of Kaghan

  Mughal Empire

  Jahani woke when Yazan stepped over her and disappeared outside into the dark night. She looked up and saw Rahul watching her. Doubting that she’d go back to sleep, she moved closer to Rahul so as not to wake Anjuli.

  ‘Why are you protecting me from Muzahid? I don’t expect you to sacrifice your people for me. I can travel by myself now Yazan is here.’

  Rahul’s answer was not what she expected. ‘As a child,’ he said softly, ‘I cared for you with the devotion of a grieving boy. You see, I had just lost my mother and newborn sister.’ He paused a moment, reflecting.

  Jahani held her breath, hoping to hear more.

  ‘You were all I had to bring joy back into my life. I would love you as a man also, but I have no right to think this way.’ He gave her a quick glance. ‘If Aunty Yasmeen’s vision about you is true, the way for you to fulfil the prophecy is to marry a mir from the north. There will be many to choose from.’ His tone sounded bitter.

  Jahani bit her lip. What could she say to lift his spirits?

  His gaze was sombre. ‘Aunty Yasmeen’s prophecies aren’t usually wrong – either they are fulfilled or they come to fruition in another lifetime. She foresaw you before I found you.’

  ‘Do you believe that I am the shehzadi?’

  ‘I didn’t before. It sounded too fabulous, and peace without war is ridiculous, but many people believe that the shehzadi is still alive. Muzahid Baig does, though he’s feeding off Dagar Khan’s information—’

  Jahani interrupted, ‘Dagar Khan and his men have been trying to kill me since I fled the Kingdom of Hazara with Azhar and Hafeezah. That is, according to Azhar. I could not understand why before. But now …’

  ‘I’ve heard Dagar Khan has a powerful pir in the Kingdom of Hahayul who can see the future. With this pir’s help he hopes to control the Silk Route and all the northern kingdoms.’ Rahul grunted as he looked to where Yazan had slept. ‘And now there’s your leopard.’ He returned his gaze to her. ‘And you can control wolves and fight like a warrior.’ His brow furrowed.

  ‘I don’t know what to think,’ Jahani said to sidestep talk about her abilities. Only Hafeezah and Azhar knew she could communicate with Yazan, but truly it was Shamsher the sword, and her horse, Chandi, who helped her fight. ‘Ever since I left Sherwan to find my true family I’ve struggled to belong.’ She fought back tears. ‘And then, even though I met my adoptive parents, Baqir and Zarah, I’ve only felt an affinity with my foster mother, Hafeezah, the leopards, my horse and … Azhar.’

  Rahul frowned. ‘I—’ He stopped.

  ‘What is it?’

  He shook his head. ‘And the nomads?’

  ‘Your Aunty Yasmeen more than Zarah.’ She glanced at him. ‘And you. I enjoyed travelling with the tribe and felt like I truly belonged …’ Jahani remembered how happy she was riding with Rahul at the head of the tribe and flocks.

  ‘Zarah only had you one summer in Naran. We didn’t have you long either, just two summers, but Aunty Yasmeen has had ten summers of remembering and loving.’

  ‘But I haven’t,’ Jahani whispered bleakly. ‘My mind blocked all my early memories of life with the nomads and then with Zarah and Baqir. Perhaps it was from the shock of the knife attack and so many changes when I was little, but I’ve only begun to realise my dreams held my past.’ She stopped awhile, thinking of how she had dreamed of Azhar and the leopards in the flower fields. But she still didn’t know what her dream about the fire meant. ‘Hafeezah was my ayah and foster mother, but she was instructed not to tell me anything about my life with Zarah and Baqir to keep me safe. She spoke of her family in the north. If I am this girl, this shehzadi, then I have lost not three, but four mothers, not to mention those families as well.’ She gulped.

  Rahul reached over to touch her hand. ‘You are still young. There is time to create your own family.’

  She moved closer. ‘Can you tell me what was happening when you found me all those summers ago?’

  He sighed wearily and leaned his head against the cave wall. His eyes were darker than usual and circled with exhaustion.

  ‘Just until you fall asleep again,’ she added, thinking it would help him to relax.

  ‘As you wish. That summer we travelled farther north than usual. There had been a drought in the southern slopes, so we moved the flocks, searching for greener pastures. Aunty Yasmeen urged my father to go to the northern kingdoms. We had to keep the flocks on the move, but we stayed a few days in the town of Baltit in the Kingdom of Hahayul. I was nine and I visited the bazaar to sell milk and the women’s panir. But the people were too subdued – the bazaar didn’t bustle with life – and I discovered that a tragedy had recently occurred.’

  Jahani’s brows furrowed.

  ‘I was walking back to our camp along the riverbank when I saw a little girl fall. That little girl was you. I rushed over to help you. But before I could get there, you had rolled down the bank and fallen into the water.’

  A spark flared at the edge of Jahani’s memory but Rahul continued speaking and it died.

  ‘The current carried you downstream. I raced along the bank and managed to jump in and drag you out. But you were quiet and limp in my arms so I thought you’d drowned. I cuddled your body to my chest, and then you hiccupped and screamed for your mother.’

  Jahani’s eyes watered.

  ‘I took you to the bazaar to see if anyone had lost a child. The chai walla looked at your red hair and told me to keep you hidden. “There are strange things going on nowadays,” he said. “Armed men are taking girl-children with red hair, and their parents don’t see them again.” ’

  Jahani thought of Tafeeq explaining Yasmeen’s vision that she was the lost shehzadi. ‘Was that when the royal family was slaughtered?’

  ‘Ji, I told the man where t
o find us if he heard of a family who had lost a child. But that very day we left Baltit as armed men swarmed the town like flies. We were afraid they would find you and take you. I thought you had been left for me by paries since my mother and sister had died.’

  Jahani’s heart ached thinking of the young Rahul believing fairies were looking after him.

  ‘Aunty Yasmeen had never had a child – her husband was killed in battle when he was young. She asked if she could be your mother.’ He frowned. ‘Your dress was covered in burn marks and blood. What you must have seen.’ He hesitated as Jahani lowered her head. ‘I was thankful you were too young to remember the trauma. You always seemed peaceful around the animals, so I took you riding with me when we moved the flocks. You loved my horse and my dog, Layla, and you even spoke to the goats. You spoke more goat language than nomad words.’ He smiled, his eyes half-closed, and Jahani felt a prickling sensation in her throat

  There was a silence. When Rahul spoke again his voice was hard. ‘Then when I was ten I met your betrothed, the war lord Muza—’

  ‘Your father told me,’ Jahani cut in, hoping to save Rahul from speaking about his abduction and torture.

  Rahul nodded. ‘When I returned to the tribe I became ill, not just from losing a finger …’ He looked down at his hands. ‘My mind and heart were ailing because,’ he took a deep breath, ‘you were gone. The boy that I had once been missed your brightness.’ He glanced at Jahani.

  ‘That was when I went to live with Zarah and Baqir,’ she said softly.

  He inclined his head. ‘My father and Aunty Yasmeen thought you’d be safer with them. But Aunty always believed you would return to the nomads. Every summer when we arrived with the flocks in Naran, she checked on you.’

  ‘I never knew.’

  ‘That first summer she was careful not to show herself so you weren’t confused. She was devastated the following summer when Zarah sent you south to Sherwan.’

  Jahani’s eyes misted over. ‘I have caused you all so much pain. I should have gone north when Azhar offered to take me.’

  Rahul grunted.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Muzahid said Azhar Sekander must want you, too. I am wondering what dealings Azhar could possibly have with the war lord.’

  Jahani felt his words hammer into her heart. ‘He couldn’t have any. Azhar isn’t that type of man.’

  ‘I hope not, but men are easily won over with gold or power, especially when they have a goal in sight.’

  Jahani bit her lip. She felt like telling Rahul about the times Azhar had protected her from Dagar Khan’s men and Muzahid; surely that would prove he was honourable. But there were doubts in her mind, too.

  ‘Jahani?’

  She looked up. ‘Ji?’

  Rahul stretched out his finger to stop a tear running down her cheek. He groaned then said, ‘It’s nothing.’ He looked haggard as though a war raged inside his head.

  Jahani withheld a gasp as a frightening thought struck her with the force of a thrown dagger. What if Rahul was the one leading her to Muzahid?

  Before dawn Rahul shook Jahani and Anjuli awake. ‘We need to move on, we can’t wait until evening.’

  Anjuli whined.

  ‘No grumbling,’ Rahul snapped. ‘It’s dangerous to stay still for too long.’

  Jahani and Anjuli packed their few things, putting dried apricots and walnuts in their bags so they wouldn’t need to stop riding to break their fast. Rahul put a blindfold over Bibi’s eyes and tied her onto his leather armband. It looked difficult to do with one hand, but Jahani knew not to offer help.

  ‘How is your finger?’ Jahani asked instead. ‘Does the bandage need changing?’ She leaned closer to see.

  Rahul waved her away. ‘Leave it. We must go. We still have a few long days of travel ahead of us.’

  ‘Getting ready to travel is no different than being with the nomads,’ Anjuli observed with a yawn, ‘just that there’s less to pack.’

  They travelled steadily upward toward Babusar Pass in the pale pre-dawn light. The air grew colder so Jahani unrolled her woollen cloak and drew it around her and Anjuli. It made her feel as though Yasmeen was protecting them. Rahul rode ahead on Farah, occasionally glancing back at them. Every time he did so his face seemed darker, and Jahani could not shake the thought that he was leading her to danger.

  Eventually their horses approached an unmarked crossroads. Rahul pulled Farah to the side, waiting for Chandi to catch up. Then he indicated one way to Jahani and Anjuli. ‘That path goes straight up to Babusar Pass and down to the Indus River.’ Chandi turned her head toward the other smaller path.

  ‘And this one?’ Jahani squinted, trying to see ahead.

  ‘It’s a path that bypasses Babusar, leading to another pass called Mazeno.’ Rahul sighed, contemplating the path to Babusar. He ran his good hand through his hair and said, ‘This is the obvious route out of the Kingdom of Kaghan, but it’s well travelled so you could be spotted.’ He glanced at her. ‘We could take the other path to Mazeno Pass, but it’s a harder climb across the mountains. Both are risky and could have badmarsh.’ He raised his eyebrows at her as if asking for her preference.

  Jahani narrowed her gaze at the pathways, unsure. ‘If the badmarsh are waiting for us at Babusar Pass, won’t they realise we’ve taken the other path when we don’t arrive?’

  Rahul flicked his reins as Farah shook her head. ‘Maybe.’ His voice was tightly strung. ‘But we should be able to keep ahead of them.’

  Chandi stamped her hooves toward the Mazeno path. This way.

  ‘Then we must not delay.’ Jahani tipped her chin at the path Chandi favoured.

  They pushed the horses harder that day than ever before. It was impossible to talk as the narrow path was steep and rocky and could only fit the horses single file. Chandi knew not to walk too close to the edge and picked her way carefully, but even so, when stones clattered down the side of the mountain, Anjuli cried out and Jahani’s heart thumped. They all watched the path ahead for danger. Every so often Jahani saw Rahul’s hawk fluffing her feathers, and she cowered expecting an attack, but Rahul kept riding.

  Finally the path widened, and Jahani caught up with Rahul. ‘How do you know this way?’

  ‘The nomads have travelled it many times to sell ewes farther north. We know many tracks that lead to the Qurraqoram Mountains.’ He smiled. ‘That’s why we’re called the Lords of the Mountains.’ It was a relief to see Rahul happier.

  As the track narrowed again, Chandi fell behind and Anjuli said, ‘I would find it difficult to choose between Azhar and Rahul.’ She looked up at Jahani. ‘Which one will you marry?’

  ‘Anjuli!’ Jahani was flabbergasted. ‘It’s not for you to ask such things. Besides, I may need to marry someone else entirely, or no one at all.’ She thought of the Angrezi rani, the Virgin Queen of England, who had successfully ruled alone for forty-five years. Could she do that? She shook her head, surprised to find she was considering the idea that she could be the shehzadi. Her stomach dropped as if she were plummeting through the air with Azhar on his flying carpet. What if it were true?

  ‘Muzahid thinks you’re his bride. I hope he falls off a cliff.’

  ‘I’ve never heard you speak like this.’

  Anjuli pouted. ‘Muzahid is a beast. If he married you, he wouldn’t let me stay. And we’re heart sisters.’

  Jahani gave her a squeeze, at last understanding the origin of her questions. Anjuli was right. The more Jahani knew of Muzahid, the more she appreciated escaping the marriage.

  For two more days they travelled at a breakneck pace. Now it was late afternoon. Anjuli was asleep and Jahani swayed in the saddle when Rahul finally called a halt. She looked around in the fading light. The path had widened into a miniature grassy plateau. ‘Where are we?’ she asked.

  ‘We have almost reached Mazeno Pass, but the path is too treacherous to travel by night.’

  Jahani nodded. She felt so tired, she could fall over the
side of the mountain and not even realise. She didn’t even appreciate the majesty of the mountains surrounding her.

  ‘I’ve spotted a cave.’ He indicated a dark shadow on the closest mountainside with a few trees and bushes nearby. ‘Can you walk up there, do you think?’ Rahul dismounted, tied Farah to a rock, and then lifted Anjuli into his arms. She didn’t wake.

  Jahani dismounted unsteadily.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Rahul asked.

  ‘Ji, just tired.’ She tied Chandi to a small tree next to Farah and took down her bag and quilt from the saddle. She tried to walk but her thighs and legs ached so much that she had to crawl in places. Finally she reached the cave, lay beside Anjuli and gratefully fell asleep.

  In the night she woke momentarily, feeling a weight on her legs. She sat up to find Yazan curled up beside her, his tail around his nose. One paw rested protectively over her as if she were a cub. She patted his head and fell into a dreamless sleep.

  7

  En Route to Mazeno Pass

  Kingdom of Gilit

  In the morning, Jahani awoke to Rahul’s voice. ‘I’ve made chai and there’s a dry chapatti each.’

  She looked inside and outside the cave, but Yazan was gone. By the light of dawn, Jahani could see they were high up in the mountains. Clouds hung like curtains, blocking the sun on the other side.

  Back in the cave, she found Rahul eyeing Shamsher as he drank his chai. ‘Where did you learn to wield a scimitar?’ he asked.

  ‘I learned from my friend’s brother when I was young. Then Azhar taught me more on the way to Naran.’ She paused, watching Rahul’s face. ‘I’ve used it many times, including the day the tribe was attacked. I helped Neema to guard the women’s tent.’

  ‘So, Azhar has been useful.’

  Jahani chose not to respond to his sarcasm. ‘When we’re not so busy travelling, perhaps you can teach me more skills.’