He regarded her as he finished his chai. ‘I saw your leopard in the cave again last night.’
‘Ji, he’s following us.’
‘When Aunty Yasmeen told me the shehzadi would have a leopard, I thought she must have muddled her visions.’
Jahani stared at him, not knowing how to respond.
‘Did Aunty Yasmeen make you those clothes?’ Rahul asked.
She tipped her head and he closed his eyes. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking. When he opened them, he said, ‘We had better leave. If you are as important as Aunty thinks we must find a safer place.’
‘How is your finger?’ she asked.
‘Let’s just say I know it is there.’ He smiled. ‘Do you understand what I mean?’ Jahani was struck by the way Rahul’s dark eyes lit up, glistening and warm again.
‘Here, let me change your dressing.’ This time he didn’t argue, and she quickly unwrapped the bandage. ‘Accha, no fresh bleeding.’ She cleaned the wound and wrapped it in a new cloth. When she finished she looked up and found him staring at her with such vulnerable yearning that she glanced away. ‘There, it is done.’
There was no moment to wonder what Rahul’s expression meant, for Anjuli called, ‘Jahani! Dekho, look at me.’
With a glance at Rahul, Jahani walked out of the cave. Anjuli greeted her from Chandi’s back. ‘Dekho, I can mount by myself.’
Jahani smiled at her. ‘Anyone would think you have always ridden.’
Anjuli tilted her head in pride.
Minutes later they set off. It was still early, and the sun tossed pink and golden rays over the mountain highlighting a few late wildflowers that waved in the breeze. With each passing day, the air grew colder and the path steeper. If Chandi and Farah weren’t mountain bred, they wouldn’t have been able to trek this high. Taking a deep breath, Jahani chanced peeking over the edge and gasped. The drop to the valley below was thousands of feet. She quickly turned her attention back to the path. Rahul rode in front, looking for danger and Jahani glanced behind constantly, her hand on the hilt of her sword. Anjuli sang songs softly, but Jahani couldn’t bring herself to join in. Every noise, even a bird twittering from a tree, startled her.
Rahul stopped and waited for Jahani and Anjuli to reach him. ‘Are we close to Mazeno Pass?’ Jahani asked.
‘Ji.’ He scanned the mountains above them. All seemed quiet, but he unsheathed his sword. ‘The pass is isolated, so we will ride with swords at the ready. As you know from our last experience, the passes are notorious for concealing badmarsh.’
They were forced to ride through the pass in single file. Rahul went first. The girls checked the sheer cliffs on both sides of the path as Rahul urged Farah through. Jahani spotted a few caves, but no sunlight glinted on steel. At the end of the pass, Rahul turned Farah, gesturing for them to follow. He looked at one with the mountains, sitting astride his horse with his dark hair blowing in the wind, and Bibi sitting majestically on his arm.
With Shamsher drawn, Jahani urged Chandi forward into the tunnel-like pass. It was strange how safe the path seemed. When they reached the end, Jahani and Anjuli gasped at the view before them. The Qurraqoram Mountains with snowy tops rolled back so far into the distance that Jahani couldn’t find where the mountains ended and the sky began. In the foreground was a green forested valley with a sparkling river rushing through the middle.
Even Rahul reined in Farah to stare at the vision before them. Then he remembered himself. ‘The danger may not be over,’ he said, looking around. ‘Badmarsh could attack on the way down to the river. It is a narrow path with many hiding places and we will have no room to defend ourselves. It’s odd – I expected them to attack at any point on the pass. Where are they?’
‘Maybe there are none,’ Jahani said.
It took hours to follow Rahul and Farah down the torturous path. Chandi even stumbled every now and again, causing Anjuli to squeal. The descent was so steep that Jahani felt they would pitch forward over Chandi’s head. She couldn’t relax until the river’s roar became louder and she knew they were nearing the path’s end. Then they rounded a bend and she saw a hanging bridge spanning the river. Jahani had never seen such a bridge – it wasn’t anything like the bridge at Balakot where they had crossed in the Kingdom of Kaghan. This one looked ancient with split logs of wood held together by two long ropes that reached across to the other side. She watched it swinging in the wind and couldn’t imagine the horses even attempting to walk on it. How will we cross that?
Chandi snorted.
As if Rahul read her mind, he dismounted and said, ‘We will lead the horses. But leave Anjuli seated.’
‘Is this the Indus?’ Anjuli stared at the water rushing past just below the bridge
Rahul continued to scan the mountain faces. ‘Nay. This river is a tributary only. We are still quite high.’ Rahul led Farah toward the bridge. ‘We will cross one horse at a time, just in case it doesn’t hold.’
Do not fear I have seen worse. Chandi flooded Jahani’s mind with a new calm. There is danger ahead, but help also.
‘The badmarsh are here, I think,’ Jahani said.
Rahul turned and gave her a quizzical look. Then he narrowed his gaze, analysing the mountains behind them. ‘Look – a glint. There’s an archer up there now.’ He hesitated. ‘We have to cross the bridge – there’s no way around it – but the badmarsh will be on the other side, too.’
‘We could try crossing at the same time. Surely the bridge will hold the weight of two horses.’
He paused only a moment, then inclined his head with a grin. ‘You have courage.’
‘They won’t expect it and we can fight them together on the other side.’ If we don’t fall into the river, she thought.
Rahul glanced at the other side. ‘Since it’s so narrow, Farah and I will go first.’
As Jahani led Chandi onto the first log after Farah, she felt the bridge sway beneath their weight. It would not be a quick crossing. The river beneath was white and angry, water splashing up like spirits trying to drag them down. They reached the middle, and the roar of the river made it impossible to speak normally. Taking a deep breath, she looked behind and saw men dressed in shalwar qameezes and vests of varying shades of green climbing down the mountain side toward the bridge. No wonder it had been difficult to spot them.
‘They’re coming,’ she shouted.
Rahul glanced back and gestured to keep going, but he let Bibi loose into the air. Jahani hoped the men wouldn’t chance the bridge. She thought of arrows then. But when she looked back they were standing by the bridge, hands by their sides, with no arrows nocked.
Soon two more men appeared on the other side, waiting. Rahul continued to step steadily toward them.
Just then a plank shifted under Jahani’s weight, throwing her off balance. She clung to Chandi’s reins, but then her other foot slipped. Within moments she was hanging from the side of the bridge, dangling over the river, Chandi’s reins still gripped in her hand.
Water splashed up drenching her boots. ‘Oh!’ Vivid images from one of her nightmares flashed into her mind: the water, rocks, falling. She couldn’t swim. ‘Help,’ she screamed.
The bridge swung as Chandi’s hooves scrabbled on the logs.
Anjuli shrieked. ‘We’ll all fall! Chandi and I will be dragged over the edge!’
Rahul called to both of them, his voice tight. ‘Try to keep still.’ He stood with his legs apart to balance himself, while whispering to Farah. Jahani knew he couldn’t leave his mare in case she panicked.
Jahani closed her eyes, trying to find a place of calm.
Do not fear, you will be safe.
Very well for you to say, Chandi. But it doesn’t feel safe.
Feeling is not truth. You have friends.
Jahani breathed deeply until her feet stopped swinging. Finally the bridge ceased its violent swaying.
‘Now, slowly pull yourself up,’ Rahul directed.
She pulled on the reins
and Chandi backed up gently, at last dragging Jahani back onto the bridge. She managed to stand and then to walk, though her knees felt wobbly and her hands burned from holding onto the reins. She gave Anjuli a shaky smile and remembered Chandi’s promise of friends. Then above the rush of the river, she heard a snarl.
Yazan!
He stood poised on a ridge high above the river. He leaped an incredible distance to a rock in front of the badmarsh, and stood snarling and growling. Urgent shouts came from the men as they slowly backed away. Then more yells came from the men on the other side of the bridge.
Yazan jumped from the rock and walked closer. The men were clearly terrified, yet strangely they didn’t try to harm the snow leopard.
‘Keep walking,’ Jahani called to Rahul. ‘Mount when you reach Yazan.’
Within minutes they were across. They mounted and Jahani walked Chandi to stand near Yazan and Rahul. ‘We must move on,’ she said. Yazan gave the men a growl worthy of a tiger as they passed. Then he padded alongside Chandi.
Did you call Yazan, Chandi?
There was no need.
Rahul called, ‘We must travel quickly in case those men find their courage. And Muzahid’s men may cut us off at the Indus when we don’t show at Babusar Pass.’
Jahani gave him a sharp glance, but he avoided her eyes and stared at Yazan.
They continued trekking late into the afternoon. For the first time Yazan travelled with them, at times walking along the path, other times leaping along the mountain ridges. He was a beautiful sight and kept Anjuli enthralled. Yazan also distracted Jahani from her rumbling stomach, and kept her concerns about the badmarsh at bay.
At one point Rahul stopped and pointed to a peak in the distance. ‘That is Nanga Parbat, the naked mountain.’
‘Why do they call it that?’ Anjuli asked.
‘Because it is so high trees can’t grow.’
‘But it has a lot of snow on it. I don’t think it is nanga at all.’ She giggled at the naughty word.
They halted before evening at a clearing where the horses could nibble grass and there was no fear of anyone falling off the edge of the mountain in the night. Jahani and Anjuli collected a few sticks and twigs, but Rahul didn’t make a fire. ‘Cold roti tonight,’ he said.
Yazan stayed for a short while and then padded off. An hour later he returned, a woolly hare in his mouth. He dropped it at Jahani’s feet.
‘Wah!’ Rahul said. Then he glanced at Jahani. ‘I feel foolish speaking to a chita.’
‘You speak to Layla.’
He nodded. ‘Can I pat him or will he bite my hand off? He has a very impressive snarl.’
‘Try it. I pat him all the time. Tickle him under the chin, like this.’
Rahul tentatively touched Yazan’s fur before patting him with vigour. He purred under Rahul’s touch, then moved to sit by Jahani when he’d had enough.
Anjuli laid her head on his middle. ‘Thank you for saving us, Yazan,’ she said, and within minutes she was asleep.
Rahul took out his knife and skinned the hare. He threw a leg to Yazan, but he ignored it.
‘Yazan’s probably had one of his own,’ Jahani said. ‘What if I hang a blanket between the trees to hide a fire and we cook it?’ She stared at Rahul hopefully, refusing to mention her hunger pains.
‘We might get smoked out.’
‘Not if we keep the flames low and cook on the coals.’
‘Mmm. People live in these mountains. Maybe a fire won’t be noticed. So be it.’ Rahul cooked the hare over a tiny fire, while checking the mountains surrounding them for danger.
Watching the hare roast reminded Jahani of Hafeezah and their life together in Sherwan. Hafeezah used to prepare mountain food and hare was her specialty. At the beginning of summer, Jahani had been living with Hafeezah and talking with her friend, Sameela, about her wedding, with not a care in the world. Then Sameela had been murdered, and Jahani’s world had changed. At least now Jahani knew why Sameela had died. Dagar Khan had most likely heard of a red-headed girl in the village and sent an assassin. Jahani remembered how Azhar had saved her. Surely that meant he couldn’t be working with Dagar Khan. Then an unwelcome idea crept into her mind. What if Azhar was the assassin and had pretended to gain her trust?
Rahul’s words the night they left the nomad camp came to mind: Azhar is one you shouldn’t trust. He is not who you think he is. Jahani glanced at Rahul’s face. He had said she should trust no one, not even himself. Rahul hadn’t led her to Muzahid’s men, but had that been his plan? She remembered how Rahul had stared at her on the first few days of their journey, as if he were conflicted. But since telling the story of her childhood he’d seemed calmer, as if watching for danger from outside, not from within.
She understood more now. What a child she had been in summer; and now it was the threshold of winter.
Just then a whoosh of wings and flapping brought Rahul’s hawk to the clearing; she alighted on Rahul’s arm. ‘So you found me again, Bibi, my clever girl.’ He smoothed her chest feathers with a finger and crooned to her about how pretty she was. He put her on the ground with the hare leg he’d offered Yazan.
Jahani smiled at them. ‘Do you understand Bibi?’ she asked.
Yazan’s eyes were closed, but his ears cocked.
‘In what way?’ Rahul asked. ‘I knew she was hungry, so I fed her.’
‘Her thoughts …’ Jahani’s voice trailed away.
Rahul glanced at her sharply. ‘Birds have small brains, even hawks and eagles. How could we determine their thoughts? Bibi is trained to hunt and to send messages to the tribe and return to me, but I don’t believe she thinks about her task, or me.’
Jahani inclined her head and watched as Bibi ripped the hare leg.
‘Who trained your leopard?’ Rahul asked then. ‘You weren’t in Naran long enough for it to be you.’
‘I think his mother did.’ She stopped herself from explaining that he was a charmed pari leopard, just as Chandi was a pari horse. ‘I just wondered about Bibi, that’s all.’
Jahani watched Rahul as he ate the meat, but could not help wondering how Azhar was faring. She was torn between her suspicions of and desires for these two men.
8
Above the Indus River
Kingdom of Gilit
Second Moon of Autumn
The nights grew colder the higher Jahani, Anjuli and Rahul travelled. One night they slept under a rocky ledge, close to the horses. Jahani and Anjuli snuggled underneath Jahani’s woollen cloak and Sameela’s quilt and a blanket, while Rahul lay near hot coals. Jahani woke in the early hours, Chandi’s agitation penetrating her slumber.
Men and horses approaching. Be ready.
Jahani quickly rose and noticed that Yazan wasn’t there. She shook Rahul awake and, in the moment between dreaming and wakefulness, he murmured her name. She ignored it and shook him harder. ‘Wake up – someone’s coming.’
He jumped to his feet, grabbing his sword in his left hand. ‘Which direction?’
‘I’m not sure.’
He frowned at her. ‘You heard a noise?’
She inclined her head and woke Anjuli. Together they packed while Rahul guarded the track. When they joined him, he said it was too dangerous to go crashing down the mountain in half-light; they would have to wait on the track where there was at least a little room. Jahani covered her face, drew her sword and stood back-to-back with Rahul, sheltering Anjuli who stood against the mountain, hidden from view.
They didn’t have long to wait. From around the bend there came the jingle of harnesses and snorts of horses. Jahani and Rahul faced the direction of the noises together.
Men in mismatched green shalwar qameezes and leather vests materialised: they were the badmarsh from the hanging bridge. But there was also an impressive man they hadn’t seen before. He walked in front of the others and wore an archer’s bow and a sword and held a helmet under his arm. Rahul stepped forward, brandishing his sword, but the men didn’t
draw their weapons. Jahani counted seven of them.
The leader spoke. ‘We have not come to fight. Please lower your weapons.’ He glanced at Jahani a moment too long. ‘We wish you no harm. Only to talk.’
Rahul grunted. ‘How do we know this is not a trick? You could rush us when we are unarmed and more men could drop from the ridges above.’
The leader smiled. Jahani wasn’t sure what sort of a smile it was. ‘You are a good protector. Ji, more men may drop from above, but we will not touch you, or the child.’ He tipped his chin at Anjuli.
Jahani moved toward Anjuli in case it was a threat; she hadn’t thought Anjuli was visible.
Their faces were expressionless, but they all watched Jahani intently.
‘I am from the northern kingdoms,’ the leader continued. ‘I heard you have a leopard that fights for you.’
Jahani burst out, ‘Leave him alone.’
‘So it’s a male leopard. It is true.’ The leader’s eyes brightened as his men exchanged glances.
Jahani kept her sword raised as Rahul moved closer.
‘Do not fear,’ the man said, ‘we are not badmarsh intent on capturing a snow cat.’
Rahul’s eyes darted from the leader to the others.
The man must have seen Rahul’s glance for he suddenly motioned to his men and they retreated. ‘Take this, Rabb,’ he said, and gave his helmet and sword to one of the men. Then he continued, ‘In the Kingdom of Hahayul I was second-in-command in the tham’s army under Dagar Khan.’
Jahani and Rahul both drew in a breath.
The leader watched Rahul’s face. ‘When Dagar Khan rebelled against the tham, he expected us to support him, but many refused, myself included. We didn’t agree with his methods, but we couldn’t openly defy him or he would have executed us. Many fled, knowing they would fight when the time was right.
‘On the day of the massacre, one troop remained to protect the tham, the ghenish, the little shehzadi and their ministers. But the troops in the fort were overcome by Dagar Khan except for one warrior. That warrior managed to secret the child and her ayah into the crowded street, but there was so much confusion – looting, burning, screaming – that the ayah was trampled and the child fell into a fire. The warrior killed the flames and ran with her to the river. There was meant to be a boat waiting to take them to safety but, before he reached the water, the warrior was shot by an archer. He fell, couldn’t rise, and the child toddled away in fright, screaming for her mother. He shouted to her to come back, but she was too distraught to hear.’
The Leopard Princess Page 5