‘I would die also.’
She stared at him, startled.
Then he said, ‘Actually, your grandmother wasn’t the least bit surprised by the carpet.’ He blew out a breath. ‘She told me about the treaty between our fathers, and that she’d told you.’
‘I was annoyed that you knew about it, but I’m not anymore.’
‘I didn’t know until I thought I had lost you.’
Jahani paused. ‘Did you know I was the lost shehzadi when we were young?’
He shook his head. ‘Not until I was sixteen summers. I wanted to come and find you immediately, but my foster father bid me wait another summer until I had mastered flying the carpet. Then I came to find you in Sherwan, hoping you hadn’t left.’
‘Why did you become my protector?’
‘It was like Qhuda rested His hand on my shoulder, calling me to go to your side and never leave you.’
‘But why did you accept?’
He grinned. ‘Who would dare to disobey the Ruler of the Universe? And truly, I wanted to help you regain your kingdom. But first I had to answer to my foster father, then I followed my own heart.’ He paused. ‘But it was Rahul who took you north.’
She searched his face.
‘I thought he was your choice.’ He watched her carefully.
‘I loved him as a sister loves a brother,’ she said.
He touched her cheek through the lattice. ‘You don’t have to abide by our fathers’ treaty if you don’t wish it. I will respect your right to rule the Kingdom of Hahayul without marriage. We’ll just rule one kingdom each and discuss policies over chai.’ He gave a lopsided smile.
She stared at him, puzzled. So much pressed on her heart: her kingdom, the tamasha, whether the pir would kill her beforehand, which would wreck her plan. It didn’t leave much space to decide what Azhar meant. Did he not want to marry her?
Azhar pressed her hand gently. ‘I wish you’d let me free you and we could face Dagar Khan together tomorrow.’
Her eyes filled. How easy that would be. She didn’t reply and she knew Azhar took her silence as an answer.
‘Then remember I’ll be with you even if I’m not at your side. Just be your true courageous self. The people have waited a long time for you.’
‘Can you do something for me?’ she said suddenly, realising he was about to bid her goodnight.
‘Always.’
She hesitated at the tender look in his eyes. ‘Please take care of Hafeezah and Anjuli. And my grandmother.’
He frowned, then simply said, ‘Zarur.’ His fingers tightened on hers before he withdrew them. ‘Qhuda Hafiz, God keep you safe.’
‘And you, Qhuda Hafiz.’ She watched him surge up into the sky on the carpet until he could have been an eagle silhouetted against the moon.
Afterward it took some time for sleep to come. When it did, Jahani’s dreams were chaotic: heads fell; Chandi was Dagar Khan’s spy horse, telling the pir her plan; Yazan was mute; Muzahid walked amongst red-headed girls with a sword in his heart, dripping blood over the floor; Azhar said he would never marry her.
She woke up in a sweat at dawn. To forget the nightmarish images she thought of Azhar. Perhaps it came from a place of true love that he withheld knowledge to protect her, and had sent Rahul in case she loved him best. She squeezed her eyes shut trying to make sense of it.
A dry rasping sound broke into her thoughts. It was coming from the wooden leg of the charpai. She looked underneath and saw a basket on the floor. The blood in her veins froze as she saw a sinewy shape slide up the post. Within seconds it slithered onto the quilt and meandered closer. It was a king cobra.
She felt for Qadi’s dagger. It was still tied to her leg. She fumbled for it, pulling it up. The snake stilled, sensing movement. It licked the air. In that moment it reminded her of the pir. No doubt the snake was his. Zaibu rolled over; the cobra rose and hissed ready to strike. It was so close its poison could have dripped onto their faces. Jahani wielded the dagger and slashed the snake’s head just as it struck. The tip of the dagger went straight through and stuck into the wooden side of the charpai. The cobra hung there, struggling in its death throes.
Zaibu sat up. ‘What’s going on?’ Then she saw the snake. ‘Who was that for?’
‘Me, probably. I wonder how it got in here.’ A horrible thought came uninvited. Maybe the basket had been there since she’d arrived. The pir must have known she was coming.
‘Look.’ Zaibu tipped her head at Jahanara standing in the doorway.
‘Pity you didn’t die,’ Jahanara said. ‘Zal said you would take Dagar from me.’
Jahani regarded her sadly. She did hope to take Dagar Khan from her but not in the way the girl imagined.
33
Baltit Fort
Kingdom of Hahayul
Third Moon of Winter
On the morning of the tamasha, Dagar Khan visited the zenana with Pir Zal.
Jahanara jumped up with joy when they walked in. ‘You have come for me,’ she cried.
‘I have come for the true shehzadi,’ Dagar Khan replied.
Pir Zal scowled when he saw Jahani standing in the room with the others.
Jahani stepped forward, holding the dead cobra out to Dagar Khan. ‘Is this your work?’
His nose screwed up. ‘Why is that dead snake here?’ So, he didn’t share the pir’s love of snakes. He glanced at the pir. ‘We will fall out if you try to harm any of them. Do you understand, Zal?’
‘Sire, remember what I said. She is evil and dangerous to you.’
Dagar Khan turned to him. ‘Or to you? Is that it, Zal?’
Jahani faced the real threat in the room and the pir’s face reddened.
‘I want the true shehzadi beside me at the tamasha.’ Dagar Khan’s gaze slipped to each girl in turn, then lingered on Jahani. A few girls didn’t even acknowledge him; the girl sucking her thumb stared at the floor.
‘Jahanara?’ He offered an arm to Jahani.
Jahanara rushed up to him. ‘Nay, it’s me! Not her. I’m the real shehzadi. You said.’
Dagar Khan smiled wildly as he turned to her.
Jahani caught the pir’s gaze. Was he waiting to see what she would do? She took a step forward and said, ‘I am the true daughter of Tham Ashraf Shaheen Khan.’ Though she had to be chosen for her plan to work, she also couldn’t stand the thought of an innocent girl dying.
Dagar Khan pulled the other girl away from him. ‘Not this time, Jahanara.’ He took hold of Jahani’s hands. ‘This is Jahanara, the true shehzadi.’ He gazed at Jahani.
The room was silent a moment, then Jahanara lunged at Jahani and pelted her with clenched fists.
Dagar Khan dragged her off. ‘I have something better for you, pyari. But I cannot take you to the tamasha.’
She slumped onto a charpai, weeping.
He smiled at Jahani. ‘I suspected you wouldn’t allow another girl to be beheaded.’
There was a gasp from many of the other girls, including Zaibu.
Jahanara stopped weeping and sat up. The smile she gave Jahani looked like that of a jinn.
‘The true daughter of Tham Ashraf Shaheen Khan,’ he mimicked Jahani and sneered. ‘You display the same tiresome righteousness of your father.’
The pir drew closer to Dagar Khan. ‘Just give me your sword and I’ll kill her myself. Right here. You are playing a dangerous game and have no idea what is happening. You must kill her privately. Now!’
In that instant Jahani faltered. She clutched her head. It felt as if it were splitting in two as a dark, swirling mass began to invade. The whisperings became louder, telling her evil things: she was weak, she couldn’t win, a man would make a stronger ruler.
Then a voice she didn’t recognise resonated above the whispers: Remember you are the true Ayeshe heir, my child.
Her grandmother’s words also rushed into the gap: Ask Qhuda to help you – pari power is not enough for this.
Jahani cried inside: Ai Qhuda, help
me!
Instantly the whispers fell from her mind and she stood tall. The pir narrowed his eyes, but she could detect his fear.
‘Come, my pyari.’ Dagar Khan proffered his arm to Jahani and beckoned to the pir to follow. Amazingly Jahani felt buoyant. She felt as if she was protected by a huge bubble of water, and she could hear and see everything. Perhaps her plan would work with the help of Qhuda. She forced herself to take Dagar Khan’s arm.
‘It is time to get dressed and fulfil your destiny.’
Jahani was delivered to a room where Dagar Khan’s servants undressed her. Immediately they confiscated her dagger. She sighed; she was again defenceless. They bathed and dressed her like a shehzadi in a pure silk shalwar with cuffs encrusted with jewels. A long cream brocade gown with a maroon bodice was placed over the top.
Jahani considered the word ‘destiny’ as a girl arranged her hair on top of her head, leaving her neck bare except for her taveez. How appropriate, Jahani thought wryly. If all didn’t go to plan, perhaps her destiny would be to bring peace through her death. She took a huge breath as a gold circlet was fastened around her neck above the taveez. She supposed they would remove both before she was beheaded. Finally gold rings were placed in her nose and ears. She stood straighter knowing she looked like a ghenish. So be it: she would go out in hope and honour the memory of the last rulers, her parents, Tham Ashraf and Ghenish Zahara.
A guard escorted Jahani to Dagar Khan’s verandah, which overlooked the Hahayul valley. She could see thousands of people milling about below. A light covering of fresh snow sprinkled the ground and the air was chilled but no wind blew. Stalls had been set up and musicians were playing sitars and kettledrums. Some men were dancing.
Dagar Khan had his back to her, watching the crowd and waving, but when he turned to see her, he paused, staring. ‘You are so beautiful, just like her,’ he murmured.
Pir Zal coughed from the shadows.
Dagar Khan roused himself. ‘Come, my pyari, we will move closer to the people.’
He took her arm and led her down a flight of stairs to a wooden platform above the crowd. The platform was still high enough for Jahani to see the people at the back of the field, but now she could hear children’s shouts and the calling of food vendors. She could even smell their wares. The wooden boards creaked beneath her feet. How like an execution dais it appeared, yet Dagar Khan treated it like a stage.
‘I have such a surprise for everyone,’ he said to her expansively. ‘Of course you know what it is already, but it’s good to be able to prepare oneself for such an important event.’
She thought of the story Azhar had told about Feraydun slaying the Demon King Zahhak with a huge ox-head mace. What would be her ox-head mace? She took a deep breath. ‘Why don’t you think I’ll escape?’
‘Ha, because you can’t, my pyari. Or are you expecting someone to rescue you?’ His eyebrows rose as he watched her. ‘Never fear, I have put a stop to that so you can just enjoy your final moments without undue stress.’ He gave her a tiger smile.
Jahani couldn’t control her subsequent shiver. She searched the sky but it was clear; there were no clouds Azhar could hide behind. Surely Dagar Khan hadn’t captured Azhar?
‘Jahani!’ shouted a familiar voice. Jahani turned to her right and saw Anjuli. She was weeping and sitting on the platform with Hafeezah and Gulzar. Dagar Khan had captured them! Pir Zal and a guard stood behind them and on the other side of Anjuli, Kaniza sat with two well-dressed men. There was no sign of Azhar. Hafeezah’s face was fearful, but her grandmother looked regal. She held Shamsher in its scabbard openly on her lap.
Dagar Khan leaned his head toward Jahani as though he had a pleasantry to share. ‘I thought you would like your family to be present today.’
The breath caught in Jahani’s throat. She mustn’t tear up now – she had to be strong.
She gazed longingly at her family. Kaniza tipped her chin in response. Jahani knew what she meant and, blowing out a breath, she turned to face the crowd. Within seconds she was shocked to see so many faces she knew strategically placed amongst the people.
Directly below her, she recognised Ali Shah in his green shalwar qameez; he had no helmet and he seemed unarmed. He solemnly raised his hand as if saluting a ghenish. Many mounted men surrounded him, but were they under his command? His army was the Makhfi, after all, and had no distinctive uniform, though most favoured green as camouflage.
Rahul was there, too, with many men and women dressed in the clothes of the nomads. She gasped. Kamilah was mounted beside him. Neema too. Even Yasmeen! Their faces were turned toward her. With dismay she realised they were watching her with fear.
As she looked, more and more men, whose uniforms she didn’t recognise, calmly rode into the area. And surrounding the whole crowd were Dagar Khan’s cavalry, looking official in their red turbans. They appeared tense and many kept glancing at Ali Shah and Rahul.
Jahani took a deep breath. She would need to prepare herself.
They had been discovered.
34
Baltit Fort
Kingdom of Hahayul
‘It is time to begin.’ Dagar Khan raised his arm and a chorus of horns blew.
All the merrymaking ceased and people crowded on the steps below the platform and further afield. It looked as if the whole population of Hahayul had assembled. There were curious murmurings as they noticed Dagar Khan holding Jahani. ‘Is he marrying one of his shehzadis?’ a youth at the front called out.
The fanfare reminded Jahani of the polo match in Naran. She tried to slow her breathing; she needed to think clearly.
Just then the horns stopped and a herald called, ‘Laaooo, hear ye, hear ye! Welcome to the Kingdom of Hahayul.’
Then a second herald echoed the first, shouting, ‘Laaooo, hear ye, hear ye!’ The second herald repeated everything the first herald said.
The first herald stepped forward and shouted, ‘Dagar Khan has invited all of you good people of Hahayul here today to celebrate Bophau, the barley seed scattering rite, and his official ascension to the throne of Hahayul.’
The crowd grumbled and a man shouted, ‘What Bophau? We have no seed.’ Another agreed; soon angry shouts rose like a winter wind.
Jahani’s stomach clenched. Would her plan work with the crowd in this frame of mind?
Dagar Khan raised his arms. ‘Good people.’ He waited a moment for the noise to subside. ‘All will be well. I would like you to meet the lost shehzadi of Hahayul.’
The crowd gave a collective gasp as Dagar Khan drew Jahani to the front of the platform.
‘Behold Jahanara Ashraf Shaheen Khan,’ he said.
Jahani scanned the faces in the crowd. Ali Shah and Rahul were frowning.
‘As you can see, she is the true shehzadi – she wears the family taveez and has the red hair and likeness of the late Ghenish Zahara, wife to Tham Ashraf.’ His lip curled as he uttered their names. ‘She has travelled far, been abducted, lived with nomads, almost died in a blizzard and been taken hostage in the Kingdom of Skardu. I am told she has a leopard, but do we see one today? Nay, and it is I who have found her at last.’
Jahani tightened her lips. How dare he lay claim to finding her when she gave herself up? Then she settled herself to concentrate; she couldn’t let him distract her.
‘I have gathered you for this tamasha today to witness a marvellous event – the eradication of an evil regime. I will finally put to rest the myth of the leopard princess. No longer will you have to worry about the Ayeshe family regaining the throne – you can finally put your trust in me as the undisputed Tham of Hahayul—’ There were jeers from the crowd and Dagar Khan shouted, ‘—because now I will execute her, leaving me next in line for succession.’
‘Laaooo, hear ye, hear—’
Dagar Khan cut the herald off, hitting the horn out of his hands. The crowd were momentarily stunned. It was the first indication that Dagar Khan was nervous. It gave Jahani more confidence – she had to prot
ect her people from Dagar Khan and Pir Zal. It was all that mattered.
‘I claim my right to speak,’ Jahani called. Her voice rang out like a bell. Within seconds the crowd grew quiet.
Dagar Khan squeezed her arm, his fingernails digging into her flesh. ‘Of course you can’t speak,’ he hissed. ‘You’ve lost, Shehzadi. Accept the inevitable. You can’t escape your destiny.’
Jahani stood suspended in his grasp and watched in dismay as more cavalry trotted into the area, circling the crowd. She caught Ali Shah glancing around him. Her breath came in short, fast bursts. She glanced back at Hafeezah and Anjuli. She was risking the lives of everyone she loved.
‘Let her speak,’ a man called. It was Rahul. He stood high in his stirrups and raised a hand in salutation.
Dagar Khan’s nails dug deeper into her flesh.
Another man on a horse near the front shouted, ‘Let the shehzadi speak.’ It was her Uncle Kabeer with Qadi. She gasped; her uncle looked pale but handsome, staring up at her as his horse shifted its hooves. It was as if he were reminding her of what he’d said in Muzahid’s dungeon: You can take action.
Then Ali Shah took up the protest and so did a woman: Neema.
Jahani ripped her arm away from Dagar Khan and moved closer to the edge of the platform. She forced her voice to rise above the crowd’s fresh murmurs. ‘As a condemned person I have the right to speak.’ She looked into the crowd and saw Dagar Khan’s red-turbaned men draw their horses closer to Rahul and Kabeer. She didn’t have much time.
‘I am Jahanara Ashraf Shaheen Khan—’ But before she got any further there was a thump behind her and Dagar Khan shouted, ‘Zal, not yet!’
She spun around to find the pir bearing down on her with Shamsher in his hand.
He halted a few feet away, close enough to strike. ‘I will kill this girl today and put an end to this stupid display.’ He stared into her eyes and Jahani heard the dark whisperings invading her head: You can’t win, you won’t be able to rule.
She shook her head, then looked to the sky, ‘Qhuda, save my people.’ Her head cleared to hear the crowd roaring.
The Leopard Princess Page 21