‘There is talk in the main bazaar in Gilit—’ Muzahid scowled at him. ‘The snow has come early in the mountains.’
‘What of it?’
‘A girl was sighted trying to enter Haha—’
‘What sort of girl?’ Muzahid strode closer.
‘Some say she is the lost shehzadi, sire.’
‘And?’
The young man attempted a grin. ‘Two of your men captured her.’
Muzahid smiled. ‘This is good news indeed.’ He glanced at his captain. ‘You’ll need to get a mullah to marry us. She won’t slip through my fingers this time.’
‘Sire.’ The young man looked anxious.
Muzahid waved his dismissal, but the young man held his ground.
Muzahid could see his shalwar quiver. He didn’t have time for this. ‘What is it?’
‘Sire, they took her to your fort in Skardu, and they say in the bazaar …’
Muzahid didn’t bother keeping the menace out of his tone. ‘Out with it.’ The boy shrunk in front of him.
‘Tell the flaming news,’ he shouted, ‘or I’ll cut off your fingers.’
‘They say … they say no one can survive the Haramosh Mountains in blizzard season.’
Muzahid whacked him.
His captain stepped forward. ‘Sire, he is just the messen—’ He stopped when Muzahid swung round to him.
‘Imbeciles. I’m surrounded by fools. It was summer! Summer when I told those scouts to bring her to Skardu. Now it is almost winter. What fool would take a girl to Skardu in the snow season? Where is the initiative, the intelligence? Wars and kingdoms and princesses are not won by imbeciles who can’t think. If the snow doesn’t kill them, I will!’
‘Sire, the scout didn’t say the girl is dead.’
Muzahid breathed deeply. ‘You are right.’ He leaned against a tree, breathing hard. ‘She had better survive or heads will roll.’
18
Haramosh Mountains
Kingdom of Skardu
In her dream Jahani felt a snort of air on her face, a tongue scratching her cheek. She struggled to wake, but her eyes were stuck as surely as if they were sewn.
We are here, Shehzadi. You must wake.
Something rough nuzzled her face. One of her eyes finally opened to find Yazan curled around her body. She blinked her eyes free of ice. The snow had stopped but it was heaped beside them.
Did you dig me out?
Awa, Shehzadi. Now you must sit.
‘Jahani, are you okay?’
Anjuli? Slowly Jahani tried stretching her legs and moving her arms, but her hands were still locked on the hilt of her sword. She remembered now – the feeling of fire that the sword had swept through her icy veins.
Shamsher has saved your life, Shehzadi. Chandi’s care flooded her mind as she managed to sit upright. She was momentarily blinded by the sun on the snow and blinked until she could see. It was morning and Chandi was kneeling beside her. So was Anjuli. Concern showed in their faces.
‘How are you here, Anjuli?’ Jahani asked.
‘Chandi brought me.’ She gulped down a sob. ‘Oh, Jahani bai, I’ve lost my whole family. I couldn’t lose you, too. But it took so long to find you – I was scared we’d never see you again.’ Jahani lifted an arm and Anjuli sank into her embrace. ‘Now we need to take you somewhere safe.’
‘But how? I can hardly move.’
‘You have to ride Chandi.’
Yazan gave Jahani a nudge. We will help you climb on.
With Anjuli holding her for support, Jahani grabbed Chandi’s mane and dragged her torso up onto Chandi’s back. Then, Anjuli lifted Jahani’s leg over while Yazan pushed from underneath. Eventually they raised Jahani until she lay on her stomach along Chandi’s back. Trembling, she put both arms around Chandi’s neck. I’m sorry I can’t sit – too dizzy. She concentrated on Chandi’s mane as the mare gently rose like a camel: back legs first, then front.
Chandi filled her spinning mind. Yazan has found a friend to help. Not far.
Jahani slipped in and out of consciousness and was only dimly aware of their journey as Chandi picked her way through the snow. Once she saw Anjuli riding Yazan. Was she hallucinating?
Just a little further. The thought spread through Jahani like a prayer giving strength and peace.
She stirred as strong arms lifted her. They felt like Azhar’s carrying her to safety after Sameela was killed; she must be dreaming. Then she lay by a fire, her body shaking and teeth chattering.
‘Shehzadi, can you hear me?’ The words were spoken in Burushaski.
‘Hissam?’ she murmured.
The guide sounded near to tears. ‘Awa, it is Hissam. I have been searching. I thought you were lost.’ He paused and cleared his throat. ‘Then this pony and a girl riding a leopard delivered you to me.’ His voice held wonder.
Jahani stretched out and felt Yazan’s fur tickle her hand; he was curled close.
‘Yazan, my leopard … Chandi, my mare … Anjuli, my heart sister.’ She gulped. ‘My loyal friends.’
‘With the leopards, the shehzadi came,’ Hissam murmured. ‘So this is what it means. You have a leopard?’
‘He follows and guides her,’ Anjuli said.
Jahani felt the warmth of the fire, but it tore into her frozen body as ferociously as the sword’s fierce heat. She groaned. ‘My feet.’
‘Excuse me, Shehzadi, but I must remove your boots and gloves.’
Jahani gasped as he pulled them off.
‘Your hands are safe, but your toes … We are just in time – you will only lose the little ones.’
She saw the glint of a knife but didn’t feel the cuts. It wasn’t until Hissam wrapped her feet in warm cloths that she writhed in pain. Anjuli hugged her and stroked her hair.
‘Sip this,’ Hissam said, ‘it is boiled snow water.’ It was warm, but even that hurt deep inside.
Throughout the night Hissam kept up his administrations and, in the morning, Jahani wasn’t sure where she was: in one of her dreams or in Sherwan with Hafeezah.
‘Ammi,’ she whispered. ‘We will go north, just you and me, my only mother and Azhar … Don’t weep for me, Sameela dear, wear your gold bangles the whole year … Across that plain you’ll see me then … remember when we did pretend? I wore Rostam’s helmet, my hair it hid … just like the lion, blessed Gordafarid …’
‘What’s wrong with her?’ Anjuli asked.
‘My beautiful Shehzadi,’ Hissam whispered with his hand on her forehead, ‘your toes are dropping off and your head is burning. Ai Qhuda, please save her. Please save us all.’
When Jahani next opened her eyes and recognised him, Hissam said, ‘Shehzadi, I must take you to the hakim in Skardu for healing. Already you have been here two weeks and you are not as strong as you should be. We will bypass Muzahid’s fort and, once you are well, I will personally guide you to the Kingdom of Hahayul. What a glad day that will be. Everyone will sing your praises and Dagar Khan will be overthrown. Hahayul will be the Valley of Happiness once again.’
Jahani trembled as tears dropped onto her face.
Hissam moved back to wipe his eyes. ‘We are all ready for you, Shehzadi. Do not die.’
Jahani was barely conscious as she watched Anjuli mount Chandi. Then she felt Hissam lift her in his arms.
‘My stallion, Kaveh, will carry us both,’ Hissam whispered. He placed her gently on Kaveh’s back and sat behind to keep her steady. Jahani slumped against Hissam’s chest.
Yazan?
I am here beside you, as always.
She closed her eyes and drifted. She dreamed of the reeds swirling in the river, of her body tumbling in, caught fast in their tendrils. Azhar was flying by on a cloud: I’m only a prayer away, only from the heart can you touch the sky. Below, her parents lay in a lake of blood and Baqir walked toward her, headless, saying: I had no choice. Then Rahul fell to his knees before her, crying out: Come with me!
Jahani woke with warm tears searing her face. She s
ighed. What terrible dreams.
‘We are making good progress, Shehzadi,’ Hissam said. ‘The worst of the snow storms are nearly over and Skardu is not far. Only three more days.’
As they travelled, he told them tales of his childhood. ‘I accompanied my father whenever a rich man sent a message or needed a guide across the mountains. I know the secrets of these tracks from Gilit to Skardu, even those of Mount Dumani – they call it Rakaposhi now – in Nagir near Hahayul. It is beautiful with its necklace of clouds, but so often Rakaposhi’s necklace chokes the breath from men.’
Jahani could tell the tales amused Anjuli and she was grateful that they kept her conscious as she fought the fever. She didn’t want to dream.
‘Do you know the tale of Hahayul and Nagir and how they separated?’ Hissam asked. ‘Let me tell you,’ he said, since Jahani couldn’t answer. ‘Once they were one kingdom ruled by the royal family of Gilit, whose government seat was in Nagir. Mayroo Khan, first tham of Nagir, had twin sons named Moghlot and Girkis. The twins always fought, even into adulthood, and so the tham split the kingdom – Moghlot was given Nagir on the southern bank of the river and Girkis was given Hahayul on the northern bank.’ He was quiet a moment. ‘One day I will tell my grandchildren that I was the man who brought the shehzadi back to Hahayul to join the two kingdoms together again. With a leopard beside us.’ His voice cracked.
Jahani found his words soothing. When Hissam eventually fell quiet, Chandi and Yazan immediately filled her mind with their care and hope.
‘We are here. I can see Skardu.’ Hissam reined in Kaveh.
Jahani could see a black fort towering on a mountain ridge above, other large buildings further away and a town below. A river snaked around the township and, all around, rocky black-and-purple mountains rose from the snow like jagged sentinels. There were no trees and the sky was grey; it looked like a stark winter desert. Her eyes blurred and instantly there were two forts. She blinked to clear her vision.
Anjuli drew Chandi abreast with Kaveh. Jahani couldn’t see Yazan.
‘How are you, Jahani bai?’ Anjuli asked.
‘I’ve been better.’ Her voice sounded wispy even to herself.
Chandi’s thought flew into her mind like a screech. Danger! Danger! Give warning!
Jahani licked her lips, her voice struggling to rise above a whisper. ‘Hissam, there is danger on the path.’
‘Is someone there?’
‘Awa.’
His grip on her tightened but he didn’t question how she knew. ‘The danger will come from the fort so let’s hurry into the town.’ He urged Kaveh to pick his way down the path. They were halfway when a group of armed riders appeared around a bend ahead. One galloped up and Jahani groaned. It was the guard she’d named Barrel. He must have survived the blizzard.
When he was close enough to recognise them, he shouted, ‘You found her! It’s a miracle she isn’t dead. Alhamdulillah.’ Then as Barrel drew his horse level to Kaveh, he looked suspiciously at Hissam. ‘Why aren’t you bringing her to Muzahid’s fort?’
‘She needs a hakim. I am taking her to the town.’
‘She must go to the fort. We can bring a healer up there.’
The other men surrounded them, but Hissam held his ground. ‘She’s sick.’
Barrel lifted his chin to one of the guards. The man drew his sword and rode behind Hissam.
‘Don’t hurt her,’ Hissam cried.
‘You fool,’ Barrel said. ‘We won’t hurt her but we will definitely hurt you if you don’t hand her over right now.’
Just then there was a snarl and Yazan leaped onto a rock above them. He crouched, ready to pounce.
‘What’s a leopard doing so close to the town?’ Barrel mused. In an instant he had pulled out his dagger and flung it at Yazan.
‘Bey ya! No!’ Hissam’s and Anjuli’s cries echoed Jahani’s silent scream, but Yazan’s howl silenced them all. They watched, aghast, as he tumbled backward off the rock, leaving nothing but red on the snow.
Within seconds another guard approached. Her hand reached for the hilt of Shamsher.
‘Hand over Muzahid Baig’s betrothed,’ Barrel said to Hissam, ‘or we’ll hurt the little girl.’
Jahani’s hand dropped from Shamsher as the guard pulled Chandi toward him by the reins. Chandi reared, but the guard held on. So did Anjuli, with much squealing.
‘A fine Zanskari pony,’ the guard said.
Another guard reined in beside Jahani and pulled her onto his saddle. Hissam looked wretched but he let him take her.
‘Adad, deal with the guide.’ Barrel wheeled his mount toward the fort.
Jahani found her voice. ‘The guide gave me aid – you mustn’t hurt him.’
Barrel sneered. ‘Let Miss High And Mighty watch what happens to men who cross Muzahid Baig. He won’t be happy that you spent a cosy time together.’
‘She was ill.’ But as Hissam uttered the words, the guard holding Jahani swung his sword.
Jahani watched as if they were all frozen within the ice. The sword moved through the air as her mouth opened. ‘Be ya!’ she cried, but she couldn’t hear her own scream over the sound of the sword connecting. She reached for Hissam as his blood splattered her cloak and he fell onto the snow.
19
Camp of the Makhfi
Kingdom of Gilit
Under the cover of darkness Azhar, Ali Shah and his hundred men skirted the township of Gilit to reach the Makhfi camp. It was hidden in the mountain forests near the border of Gilit and Hahayul.
‘It’s good to see you,’ a man said as he grasped Ali Shah in a mountain man’s embrace. Azhar could see the devotion reflected in the younger man’s eyes. A commander who raised such sentiment in his men deserved respect.
‘And you, Irshaad,’ Ali Shah replied. ‘What news have you?’
‘Armies from the kingdoms are on the move. There is word that the shehzadi has been sighted.’
‘Ji, she has,’ Ali Shah said, noticing Azhar standing beside him. ‘This is Azhar Sekandar. Azhar, this is Irshaad, my second-in-command.’
Irshaad paused. Azhar watched the man taking in his features and his bandages.
‘As you see I have much to tell you, Irshaad,’ Ali Shah said.
‘Before you do please make yourselves comfortable by the fire and take chai. I have ill news.’
Azhar exchanged a worried glance with Ali Shah as they sat on the charpai under the trees. His head swam each time he moved. Along with this pain, a dull ache gnawed every part of his body. He thought he’d feel better by now. He saw Hafeezah walking by and gestured her over. She adjusted her shawl and sat beside him.
The chai arrived on trays and Ali Shah frowned at Irshaad. ‘What is this news?’
‘We found a man near death on the mountain track to Haramosh Pass. He mentioned Rabb before he died.’
‘Our scout?’ Ali Shah said. ‘But I sent Rabb ahead to check the track. Why did he come so far to Gilit?’
‘There’s talk in the bazaar that the shehzadi tried to enter the Kingdom of Hahayul with a man named Rabb.’
A jolt of fear coursed through Azhar’s body – if he’d been standing he would have staggered.
‘Why would she put her life in the hands of a scout when she had us?’ Ali Shah asked.
‘She didn’t,’ Azhar replied in a low voice. ‘Rabb must have abducted her and—’
Hafeezah drew in a sharp breath.
‘—maybe he captured her when I lost consciousness on the carpet.’
Irshaad’s look was incredulous. ‘Carpet?’ No one explained.
Ali Shah regarded Azhar. ‘No doubt this is the work of Muzahid Baig.’ Ali Shah groaned. ‘I should have been with her. Now she’s probably on her way to Muzahid Baig’s fort in Kaghan or in Skardu. If she’s survived the Haramosh Mountains.’
Irshaad exclaimed, ‘Bey ya, apparently Rabb was in cahoots with Dagar Khan, feeding him our position. Rabb was taking her to Hahayul!’
Hafeez
ah murmured. ‘Where can Jahani be? Does anyone know?’
Ali Shah held his head in his hands. ‘I hope Rabb’s dead. He knows too much.’
There was silence. Azhar stared at the fire, feeling for the first time that all hope was lost. We will find her, Shehzada. Suddenly he remembered Yazan rubbing his cheek. Perhaps it hadn’t been a dream and Yazan had truly visited him that night. He closed his eyes as his head swam, hardly daring to hope. Please let Yazan know where she is and Qhuda keep her safe.
Later, Azhar found himself lodged in one of the tents of the Makhfi under Hafeezah’s care. He didn’t feel like being an accommodating patient. ‘I have to find her.’
Hafeezah pushed him down on the mat to change his bandage. ‘You feel hot. Riding all that way after such a wound was foolhardy.’
‘Warriors have to do it,’ he murmured.
‘And they die,’ she retorted. ‘You were fortunate. The arrow would have been close to your lung as well as your heart. You could have drowned in your own blood.’ She looked at him curiously as she washed his face with a cloth. ‘What did you mean about Jahani and the carpet earlier?’ She glanced to where it rested, rolled up against the side of the tent.
‘It flies.’
Her hand stilled. He tried to lift himself from the mat but fell back again.
‘You must rest, acho. You have a fever.’
He half opened his eyes. ‘But it will fly through light snow. I can fly to find her.’
‘But wouldn’t the carpet ice over in the cold? Besides Muzahid will also have to wait for a break in the weather. But if Dagar Khan has her …’ Azhar heard the worry in her words. ‘I hope the nomad prince went after her. He would know the mountain paths.’
Azhar tried to ignore the sharp pain in his heart. He felt it whenever Jahani’s name was linked with Rahul’s. He made an attempt at lightness. ‘Jahani managed to fly the carpet.’
‘How?’
‘It decided to obey her.’
Hafeezah stared. ‘Is the carpet alive?’
‘Not the way you and I are.’
‘It is charmed?’
The Leopard Princess Page 11