Daughter of Nomads (11 page)

17

Jask Persia Safavid Empire

A
zhar had to see his father Kifayat Ullah. Once everyone had retired, he took his carpet to the roof, unrolled it and flew off. Throughout the journey he thought about the events of the past week. He hadn't handled anything very well. Perhaps he was too young to be entrusted with such an undertaking, after all.

He was barely inside the door and embracing Kifayat before his concerns poured out. He told his father of the attacks on their journey to Naran and the way Jahani's gifts were sprouting like magic seeds.

‘So, the young are seeing visions and power is returning to the north. It is nearing the time to rid the kingdoms of this tyrant.'

‘But each northern kingdom is so small … except Skardu.'

‘All the more reason to strike soon before Dagar Khan takes them all. He knows they can't repel him on their own, so his plan is to keep them divided until he controls every one of them.' Kifayat stood, contemplating.

‘Pedar, Jahani is wondering what is happening to her.'

‘Come.' Kifayat led Azhar to his writing room. ‘Her ancestor was a descendant of the union of Sekandar the Great with a pari. The pari blood shows itself rarely, but it is possible.'

‘I told her this story.'

He looked up at Azhar. ‘So she now knows.' He raised his eyebrows in interest.

‘Nah kheir, no. She didn't connect the story to her herself.' Azhar sighed. ‘I should have just told her everything at the beginning and taken her straight to the Qurraqoram Mountains. If we delay much longer it will be too late to get through the passes to Hahayul.'

‘But we decided it was best she discover her own path when she is ready. And it is expedient for her to travel through the kingdoms. She will gain support. There are many living in the hope she will return.'

Azhar took off his turban and ran his fingers through his hair. ‘I know this. But there is unfinished business in Naran … The plan is not going to work. None of it is.'

Kifayat regarded Azhar with concern. ‘Come. Sit here on the divan with me.'

Azhar didn't want to but he complied.

‘Now, what is the matter?'

‘Baqir Abbaas has arranged a marriage to protect Jahani. His wife Zarah didn't even know about it until Baqir came home from travelling. I don't like it.'

Kifayat smiled. ‘Is it that you don't want to see her married? Or that you don't like this particular arrangement?'

Azhar pulled a face at his father. ‘You know what I mean. The wedding will ruin our plans.'

‘Do I?' he teased. Then he sobered. ‘Baleh, this is a complication we didn't foresee. Find out all you can about the groom's family. What is his name?'

‘Muzahid Baig, a war lord from the Kingdom of Skardu.'

‘A war lord?' Kifayat sat forward, his chin in his hand.

Azhar inclined his head. ‘Baleh, Baqir says this will keep Jahani safe. War lords are very powerful.'

‘And unpredictable. Is Baqir mad?'

Azhar didn't answer that. ‘Muzahid is cruel. He is not worthy of Jahani.'

Kifayat gave him a searching look. ‘How do you know this?'

‘I just played polo with him. He treated it like a battle.'

Kifayat nodded slowly.

‘Also, I've discovered in the bazaar that he has two wives already, but only one son. Jahani means nothing to him – she will be a breeding cow only. I'm sorry, but I don't want to see any girl treated like this.'

‘Let alone Jahani?'

Azhar's lips tightened. ‘I have to find out what he knows and why Baqir is agreeing to the marriage. I have an ill feeling in my gut that not all is what it seems.'

‘What made Baqir approach Muzahid?'

‘That is the strangest part of all – Baqir didn't approach him. Muzahid asked Baqir for her himself.'

Kifayat exclaimed in surprise. ‘Without his family? That is most unusual.'

‘This is why I am worried.'

Kifayat stood and looked out the window. ‘It seems someone else knows about her.'

Azhar walked over to Kifayat. The moon was rising in the night sky. The sight of it usually calmed him. He took a deep breath. ‘Perhaps it is the same people who attacked us on the way to the Kingdom of Kaghan.'

‘Let us hope there is only one group. Though what if Muzahid is in partnership with Dagar Khan?'

‘That has been in my mind also,' Azhar said. ‘Or perhaps Muzahid has plans of his own, if he suspects who she is.'

Kifayat murmured, ‘The quest for power makes strange bedfellows.' He turned suddenly. ‘You have a difficult road ahead. But rest here first. We will discuss the best course of action.' He paused, thinking. Then he sighed. ‘I pray Qhuda will keep you both safe.'

‘And you, Pedar.' Azhar made the customary reply and put an arm around Kifayat's shoulder.

18

Naran Kingdom of Kaghan Mughal Empire

J
ahani felt a warm, tickly sensation on her fingertips. Her hand was hanging over the edge of the charpai and she snatched it back with thoughts of spiders. But when she opened her eyes she saw Yazan lying on the mat.

‘So, you
can
jump the wall like Zadi. But how did you get in my room?'

She looked across and saw Anjuli was gone from her charpai. She had left the door ajar.

Yazan's pale blue eyes stared at her. He purred as she stroked his fur. Then he blinked at her slowly. She blinked back and he rested his head on his paws, his long tail wrapped around him. Jahani felt a calmness as if she were in the quiet centre of a storm. She placed her hand on his neck enjoying the hum of his purr.

‘I think you are a special chita. I wish you could come with me when I am married.' She continued to tell Yazan all her fears as if she were praying. ‘So what am I to do? I will have to marry sooner or later.'

Later would be best.

The thought dropped into her mind as clearly as if it had been spoken. Was it her own? She frowned at Yazan. ‘Was that you? Are you a pari like Chandi?'

Perhaps.

‘How foolish,' she murmured, patting Yazan. ‘I must be more worried than I thought.'

She changed her shalwar qameez and braided her hair. Then, with Yazan padding by her side, she walked into the garden to find Azhar. She found him shovelling out the leopards' enclosure.

‘I'll help,' she said, picking up a cane broom. She looked around for Zadi but she must have been in the garden. Yazan walked off and sat in the grass, but Bili pounced on Jahani's broom. Yazan gave a small growl and Bili joined him. Bili looked annoyed and Jahani laughed.

Azhar glanced at her with approval. ‘These beasts are shy, yet so magnificent.'

‘I think they're wonderful. They make me feel safe.' She glanced at Yazan grooming himself.

Jahani watched Azhar working as she swept. His qameez was unbuttoned and she tried not to stare at his chest. He wielded the heavy wooden shovel as easily as if it were a broom. His leg seemed better.

‘Azhar.'

‘Awa?'

‘When you were riding Chandi yesterday—'

‘I hope you didn't mind,' he cut in. ‘There was no time to ask you, but she plays polo the best.'

That information made Jahani pause. Then she asked, ‘When you rode Chandi did you notice anything strange?' Jahani kept her tone light.

‘She always knew what to do, even when I didn't. She is well-trained.'

Jahani took a deep breath. ‘But … did you hear anything?'

He stopped and leaned on the shovel. ‘Like what happened to you in the forest?'

She tilted her head in affirmation.

‘Bey ya, no, I didn't hear anything like that. But Chandi is unique. Those Zanskari warhorses are.' He resumed his task.

She decided to drop the subject and kept sweeping.

Then Azhar stopped and watched her. ‘Imagine if Muzahid could see you now. The bride of a war lord mucks out the animal pen with her guard.'

Jahani flashed a smile. ‘He probably thinks you are my brother by now.'

He stared at her curiously. After a while he asked, ‘Are you happy?'

‘Awa, I love being here with the chitas.' She glanced at Azhar. ‘I feel a connection with Yazan,' she said quietly. ‘Maybe like I did with Zadi when I was little.'

Azhar raised his eyebrows. ‘And the wedding? Are you pleased about that?'

She stopped sweeping and glared at him. ‘I think nothing about it. This is something every girl has to do: obey her father, then obey her husband.' She didn't mean to sound bitter, but his question had caught her off guard. ‘And nor does it have anything to do with you.' With horror she felt her eyes burning.

He stepped closer. ‘Jahani, you do not need to do this—'

‘Go away,' she shouted. Didn't he hear what Muzahid had said? She was no longer a carefree girl, riding through the mountains, able to talk with a young man, even if he was her guard. Suddenly a frightful thought dropped into her head: after the wedding she may never see Azhar again.

There was a silence. Yazan padded over to stand beside her, nuzzling her hand. Jahani shut her eyes until finally she heard Azhar open the gate and walk away. She dropped to her knees and hugged Yazan.

Then a little voice said, ‘I had an older sister.'

Jahani looked up to see Anjuli standing by the gate.

‘When she was the same age as you she was married to a man in a nearby village. Before the wedding she cried for weeks. Abu said brides cry a lot and not to worry, but she didn't want to leave us.'

‘Did you see her afterward?'

‘Not much.' Anjuli's eyes closed.

Jahani ran over and gathered Anjuli in an embrace, hoping that her sister wasn't visiting Anjuli's village the day the temple burned.

Later Jahani sat in the pavilion with Yazan to think. Whenever Yazan raised his head and stared into her eyes, she felt more was out there for her: some task she needed to do, but she didn't know what. She sighed. She had an overwhelming sense that the marriage would put an end to her freedom. The polo game had certainly shown Muzahid's true nature. If only he was compassionate like Sameela's groom had been.

And Azhar.

She caught her breath. She must never think that again. How could a guard marry the daughter of a wealthy landowner? Besides Azhar would be angry with her now.

She decided she needed to see her father. Maybe he could give her some answers. ‘Come, Yazan, let's find Bapa.'

Yazan was on his feet before she spoke as though words weren't necessary. He led her to the stables where they found Baqir tending to his horse.

‘Bapa?' She said it hesitantly, hoping he would be more like a father today.

Baqir turned. ‘You're up early.'

‘I've been helping Azhar with the chita pen.'

He sighed. ‘Muzahid is traditional in his thinking. He doesn't want you spending time with Azhar.'

Jahani bristled. ‘But he's just a boy.'

‘He's at least four summers older than you. In this mountain kingdom he is old enough to be wed.'

Jahani blew out a breath. ‘I've come to see what you are doing. I wish to know you better before I marry.' She hoped her tone didn't betray her thoughts on the swiftness of the wedding.

‘You won't be far away from us. Muzahid has a house here.'

‘But isn't his family from Skardu? His team flew the Skardu flag yesterday.'

‘Ji, but he has not said he is returning.'

‘If he does one day, I may never see you or Zarah again.' She sighed. ‘I have lost so many summers with you already.' She thought of Sameela's father: the way he hugged Sameela, discussed her studies and rode with her. ‘What if we ride our horses together before breakfast?' She said it excitedly like Anjuli would. ‘My bridegroom couldn't object to me spending time with you.'

Baqir looked as if he would refuse, then unexpectedly he said, ‘Why not? Saddle your mare.'

Jahani's wooden side-saddle was still at Lake Saiful Maluk, but Baqir didn't comment on her riding Chandi astride. They trotted along the river with Yazan following some distance behind and reined their horses at a flower field similar to the one Azhar had taken Jahani to visit. ‘It is so beautiful here,' she whispered. A flock of sheep grazed peacefully and children ran around, playing with goats. She giggled at a tiny child in a felt hat learning to walk. In the distance, a young man and his dog watched over them all. They must be nomads, she thought, like the group they passed on the way to Naran.

Baqir clenched and unclenched his fingers as he surveyed the scene. ‘So this is how it began and now how it ends.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘Nothing, just the ramblings of an old man.' Then he said, ‘I know you think the wedding is too soon. Your mother told me.'

She wondered how Hafeezah knew, then she realised he meant Zarah. ‘I meant no disrespect.'

‘You were right.'

Jahani looked at Baqir keenly.

‘But there is nothing I can do to change it. Muzahid has an army and he has promised protection for this valley which, in turn, will help the whole Kingdom of Kaghan.

‘Protection from whom?'

‘Dagar Khan. He wants to take the northern kingdoms. Kaghan included. He says it will be good for trade to be under his rule – but I think it will only be good for Dagar Khan. He wants to be the undisputed mir of the north and have access to the Silk Route, but his methods do not serve the people.'

Jahani's heart beat faster at the mention of Dagar Khan. ‘But why is he doing this?'

‘Power, I suppose. He is truly a Demon King as people say. All landowners now have to keep their own forces or we risk losing our lands.'

So, she should be safe with Muzahid, but there was something else she needed to know. Before she could stop herself, she asked, ‘But Bapa, why does Muzahid want
me
?'

Baqir regarded her. ‘Any man would. But Muzahid was quite honest. He said he heard you were beautiful with red hair and blue eyes. This combination is rare. He even asked about your age. He wanted a young bride. You are everything he was looking for.'

‘But how did he find out about me?'

Baqir frowned. ‘I do not know. A servant spoke in the bazaar perhaps.'

‘And he will protect Naran – that's his bride price?'

‘Ji. And, even more importantly, he will protect you.'

She flicked her slipping dupatta over her head. ‘Which is why you accepted.'

Baqir tilted his head.

‘I still don't understand why I should be targeted, and I don't want protection either. I can protect myself.'

Baqir smiled, but it was so condescending she had to bite down a retort. ‘Every woman needs protecting, especially ones who look like you.' He reached across and laid his hand on hers. ‘If I have acted hastily, forgive me. I hadn't seen you when I made the arrangement. Now, I also would like more time with you.' He looked away over the field. ‘Your mother didn't want the match. She has sorely missed you and expected a few summers with you, at least, but no one else could help us with Dagar Khan. He is ruthlessly moving through these kingdoms. If not checked, he will take us all. Our kingdoms are too small to withstand an army with a cavalry like his and we are also too small to attract the notice of the emperor. Dagar Khan divides loyalties, burns villages and creates havoc, so mirs will surrender to save their people.'

‘Why don't all the kingdoms band together against him?'

‘Why indeed. I wonder how it could be done. But our kingdoms are all so solitary and isolated here in the mountains.'

‘Will Muzahid love me since he asked for me in particular?'

Baqir frowned, but he didn't berate her forwardness. ‘I think you will have a good life, beti. He is wealthy – you will want for nothing. There is no one more suitable in Kaghan.' His words were said without enthusiasm.

Jahani bowed her head. ‘Thank you for telling me, Bapa. I will try to be a good daughter and a good wife.'

Baqir regarded her thoughtfully. ‘You have turned out better than I thought you would.'

A dog barked and more sheep poured onto the field.

‘Ao, I am hungry. Let's return for breakfast.' Baqir wheeled his mount toward the stables and galloped up the rise, Jahani and Chandi close behind with Yazan bounding ahead of them.

It helped a little to know why the marriage was arranged. Indeed, princesses from larger kingdoms had to marry princes from other kingdoms or even the Mughal emperor himself to keep peace in the land. Even Sameela's marriage would have joined two ancient families and two districts together. She was doing nothing less.
So, am I the one to save Naran?

Late that evening, when Jahani stepped barefoot into the courtyard to fetch a candle, she heard Zarah and Baqir talking in the divan room. She didn't mean to eavesdrop, but Zarah's voice was raised and it was impossible not to hear that something was amiss.

‘How could you be so thoughtless in accepting the marriage proposal? We've only just got her back.' Zarah sounded close to tears. ‘Don't you remember what it's been like, worrying about who wants her dead and why?'

‘She will be safe now. You needn't worry anymore.'

‘Safety isn't a good enough reason for marriage.' Zarah's voice cracked with emotion. ‘You've never cared. You sent her away, wouldn't let me visit, made sure she thought Hafeezah was her mother and tried to make me forget. But I will never forget her.'

‘It would have been unsettling for her. I never thought we'd be able to bring her back.'

‘She's unsettled now. She doesn't know where she fits and only cares for Hafeezah, following her customs, not ours.' Her tone became placatory. ‘You must withdraw your assent. I wouldn't normally ask, but Muzahid Baig? What were you thinking sentencing her to a life with him? He's a barbaric war lord, and an especially cruel one at that.'