Daughter of Nomads (19 page)

27

Lalazar Kingdom of Kaghan Mughal Empire

A
fter breakfast the following morning, Jahani was saddling Chandi in readiness to break camp. ‘I wish I could ride on you with Anjuli,' she whispered.

Chandi snickered.

Rahul found Jahani resting her forehead against Chandi's nose.

‘Jahani.'

She turned to face him.

‘Ride with me today,' he said softly.

She searched his face. He was smiling, his eyes warm. Should she?

Chandi nudged her from behind.

‘I'll see,' was all she said.

The women's tent was already folded; the women and Anjuli were organising their mats and bags. Jahani walked over. ‘Anjuli, I'll ride with you today.' She said it quietly, but Anjuli was so excited she repeated it.

Suddenly Neema was filling Jahani's whole vision. ‘You can't ride with Rahul,' she screeched.

‘Why not?' Jahani had had enough of Neema's controlling ways.

‘It isn't seemly to push yourself on to a man.'

‘I am doing no such thing. I am only riding, and Anjuli will be with me.'

But Neema did not back down. ‘You'll be more noticeable. You'll put us in danger.'

Yasmeen arrived and told Neema to shut her mouth. The other women kept quiet, but Jahani could sense their nervousness. Why should she bow to their fear when Rahul thought it safe?

Kamilah looked pinched in the face, but she gave Jahani a tremulous smile. In a lull between the shouting, she said, ‘Jahani should ride. She could be helpful.'

Neema snorted. ‘You should stick up for yourself, not let me do your fighting.'

‘I don't want you to fight for me, Ammi,' Kamilah replied. ‘I am happy for Jahani to ride.'

‘So am I,' Yasmeen said firmly.

Anjuli squeaked. ‘And me.'

Neema stormed off and the other women returned to their tasks. Jahani smiled at Kamilah, grateful she didn't have to tell them the truth: that Rahul had asked her to ride with him.

Moments later Jahani and Anjuli mounted Chandi and joined Rahul and Farrah leading the flocks. How Jahani loved the noise and smell of the animals, the push of the flocks following each other, and the lambs and kids frisking around their mothers. Layla and the other dogs were happy keeping the flocks on track with sharp barks. Jahani caught a glowering scowl from Neema walking beside the goats. She sighed.

‘We'll be leaving the river today and heading toward the fields of Lalazar,' Rahul said.

‘Where would we be if we kept following the river?' Anjuli asked.

‘We would end up at Lake Lulasar. It is the home of the Kunhar River.'

Jahani glanced at him. ‘Is it as beautiful as Lake Saiful Maluk?'

‘Almost.' Rahul smiled. ‘There is so much beauty in these mountains. Higher up it is difficult to travel with flocks, but here there are still grassy slopes to easily move them across.'

Just then there was a disturbance behind them. Men were shouting, dogs barked, sheep bleated. Rahul called a stop to the nomads and wheeled Farah around to check the commotion. Jahani urged Chandi to follow and gasped at the sight before them. Sheep were veering off the track, slipping down a steep slope, some rolling like puff balls. Jahani felt the urge to look up, and there on the mountain side, she spotted light tan animals with white legs and faces. They looked like dogs but were much bigger. ‘Look,' she cried.

Rahul's face darkened as he saw them. ‘Wolves.'

Immediately Rahul and Tafeeq sprang into action, riding around the flock and shouting at the nomads to keep the animals and children safe in an inner circle by placing their pack horses and donkeys around the circumference.

Jahani watched as more and more sheep slid down the hill, the wolves separating the lambs from their mothers. Before her thoughts could stop her, Jahani lowered Anjuli to the ground.

‘What are you doing?' Anjuli cried.

‘Stand with Yasmeen,' Jahani shouted.

She rode Chandi to the edge of the track at a gallop. When the track ended, Chandi leaped into the air as if she were flying, then her hooves hit the grass with a thump. Jahani only just managed to stay seated. She leaned back, holding tightly to the reins as Chandi almost vertically ran down the slope.

You are truly a mountain horse, Chandi,
thought Jahani.

The practice is good. Be careful now.

There was a shout behind her. She glanced back to find Rahul and Farah close.

At the bottom of the slope Chandi skidded to a stop. The sheep were scattered and terrified, running whichever way they could. The lambs bleated as the wolves cut between them, causing more havoc.

Jahani watched, aghast. Weren't these just wild dogs? She kneed Chandi forward. ‘Ao, Chandi, I'm supposed to be good with dogs. Let's see.' She glanced at Rahul. He had an arrow nocked. Nomad men on the rise had their bows ready, too. But they wouldn't be able to shoot them when Jahani was so close to the wolves.

As she approached, the biggest wolf spun around. It snarled, ready to attack, its hackles raised, its razor-sharp teeth bared.

Jahani didn't move Chandi back. They held their ground as Chandi tossed her head and another wolf crept up on her side. Then another. Chandi stamped, impatient.

Steady, Chandi.

Jahani stared at the wolf in front of her. ‘Stop!' she yelled. Then she thought,
Go away now and you will not be hurt. Go!

She held her breath. There was no answering thought in her head, but the wolf stopped snarling. It growled at the others and suddenly they all bounded toward the mountain ledge where Jahani had first seen them. As relief flooded her body, she gulped deep breaths.

Rahul trotted up and reined in Farah beside Chandi. ‘Are you all right?' he asked, concern furrowing his brow.

Jahani nodded, the relief bringing tears.

‘Follow me. We still have our flocks to rescue.' They quickly trotted about, rounding up the sheep and lambs. Someone let Layla loose and she raced down to help. Then they drove the animals back up the slope, with Layla chasing any that wandered off.

When they rejoined the rest of the nomads, Tafeeq rode up to Jahani. His eyes were bright as he stared at her and said, ‘Thank you for your quick thinking. You are a true nomad daughter.' Then he looked at her as if puzzled, but he didn't ask how she had frightened a vicious pack of wolves.

Suddenly Yasmeen started up a cheer. ‘Wah! Wah! Jahani, shahbash!' Everyone joined in except Neema, standing in the shade. She stared shrewdly at Jahani, but she wasn't glowering anymore. She nodded at Jahani as Anjuli mounted Chandi and they took their place again beside Rahul at the front of the nomads.

As the tribe moved on with excited chatter from children, Rahul kept glancing sideways at Jahani. ‘How did you do that?' he finally asked. ‘It was so dangerous – you could have been killed. At the very least they could have taken a lamb each as they left. But we've had no loss at all.'

Jahani shrugged. ‘Maybe they were frightened of our horses?'

Rahul studied her with the same expression as his father. Then he smiled and she recognised respect in his eyes.

She returned his smile and patted Chandi's neck.
Thank you, pyari Chandi, for trusting me.

This is my wish.

‘We will reach the plateau they call Lalazar by midday,' he said. ‘It is called the Land of Flowers but some call it the Pari Fields.'
Fairy Meadows
.

As they travelled to Lalazar, Jahani gazed at the beauty surrounding her: the green meadows filled with flowers of every colour, even purple, the high mountains nearby, their snow-tipped points shining in the sunlight and the nomads at one with the life and colour of this astonishing place. A markhor, his huge horns curled against the sky, stood on a mountain ridge watching their passage. She wondered if Yazan was up there, too, looking out for her.

Rahul was right: what a wonderful life to travel like this, feeling at home with her people and the mountains. Now she would be hidden from Muzahid and Dagar Khan, for whatever reason it was they wanted her. If only she could let Zarah know she was safe, and have Hafeezah with her, then her joy would be complete.

A shadow passed the sun and she looked up to see a flock of birds flying high overhead. She searched the sky for Azhar.

Oh, my faithless heart, even after everything the nomads have sacrificed to bring me north
why do I still think of Azhar?

1

Lalazar, Kingdom of Kaghan Mughal Empire First Moon of Autumn, 1662

T
he day turned dark as night. Ash burned the tiny child's throat. Every direction she turned, people screamed and shoved through the crowd. Black smoke billowed through doorways and windows. She coughed and a woman held her close.

‘Move!' a man shouted, helping them to run.

The child gasped as the smoke descended like giant black wings. Fire surrounded them, licking their clothes. The woman tripped into the flames, and the child tumbled down beside her. She howled, while the man rolled them into a shawl to kill the flames.

Horrified children stared until the man shouted, ‘Run to the river!'

Archers and men with swords swarmed toward them at a marching trot. The woman reached for the child's hand, but she was swept away in the stampede. The man scooped the child into his arms and raced toward the water.

With a thud, the man fell. An arrow protruded from his thigh. He struggled to rise as the child staggered away from him. He called to her, but she was too distraught to hear. She wept for her mother and could not stop.

Jahani woke abruptly with such a feeling of bereftness. Why didn't her mother save her? She opened her eyes and sighed. She was in the nomad women's tent – not in that dream she often had as a child living in Sherwan with Hafeezah, her foster mother. ‘Ammi,' she whispered.

Jahani rolled over and cuddled up to her heart sister Anjuli. Nearly four moons ago, her best friend Sameela had been killed; and on that same fateful day she discovered Hafeezah wasn't her true mother. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the feelings of abandonment that often swamped her. No matter what Jahani knew, she would always think of Hafeezah as her ammi.

Anjuli's arm curled around her. ‘Are you awake, Jahani bai?'

‘Chup, quiet,' Jahani whispered. ‘It's too early, go back to sleep.'

Jahani let her mind wander back to that day in summer, which began her journey with Azhar – her mysterious protector – and Hafeezah, to find her true family. They had travelled for a moon on horses over dangerous yet beautiful terrain to reach Naran, where she met her adoptive parents Baqir and Zarah. And now she was finally here with the nomads and her true birth mother, Yasmeen. She glanced to the mat next to her where Yasmeen was soundly sleeping. Jahani never would have thought she was a nomad, but she was tall and fair like them. And recently she felt as if she belonged and they accepted her. She loved riding on Chandi, her pari horse, in the open fields and mountains with the goats and sheep. Yazan, her snow leopard, filled her mind then. He was following the nomads and visited the camp at night to check on her.

Jahani smiled, hearing noises of the flocks stirring, a bleat from a sheep, a snort from a horse, and half a bray from a donkey. A bird called, and she thought of Azhar again, and his carpet. He could truly fly. That ride with him was astonishing …

Danger! Danger!

Jahani sat up as the urgent thought dropped into her mind, scattering her memories.

Danger!
There it was again.

Suddenly she realised Chandi was warning her. Jahani checked under the flap of the tent. It was before dawn and she could just see Chandi rearing near the trees, pulling madly at her rope. Jahani raced out of the tent and immediately saw that, not only Chandi, all of the horses were disturbed. She ran across to Tafeeq, the nomad chieftain's tent. He shared it with his son, Rahul, the nomad prince. She whispered urgently, ‘Uncle ji! Rahul! Uncle ji!'

Seconds later Tafeeq emerged, pulling on his long coat. ‘What is the matter?'

‘I had a dream … Then Chandi, my horse, she warned …' Jahani faltered. Would he believe her? It was only recently that she had been able to communicate with Chandi through her thoughts. It was a rare thing to be able to do.

Tafeeq's serious expression didn't falter as he squinted into the darkness beyond the horses. Perhaps he was used to Jahani's mother's dreams. Yasmeen was a pir and also Tafeeq's sister. ‘Rahul,' he hissed. ‘Get up, beta! Rouse the men to unhobble the horses and have swords at the ready. Something is amiss.' He turned to Jahani. ‘Stay in your tent. Do not come out. Tell the other women, also.'

‘What is it?' she asked.

‘The war lord, Muzahid's soldiers perhaps. As soon as the sun rises they will attack. Now go.'

Jahani ran back to the tent hoping that Tafeeq was wrong. Even though she had fled Muzahid on the eve of their wedding, she had thought he would never find her, especially after the nomads had dyed and plaited her red hair and dressed her in their clothing. Baqir had arranged the marriage without her consent.

She woke everyone in the tent – Anjuli first to translate in case she didn't portray the right level of urgency. Anjuli had been Jahani's constant companion since they'd rescued her from a burning village. It was a miracle she had survived. Fortunately for Jahani, Anjuli knew the nomads' language, which Jahani was still learning, and helped Jahani to communicate to the women.

‘Wake up, danger,' Jahani whispered, and the women groaned. ‘We must be quiet,' she added as questions flew at her. ‘Chup! There may be an attack.'

Jahani paused as Neema pulled out a sword from under her mat. Neema hadn't wanted her there when she first came; she said Jahani was dangerous and, with a sinking heart, Jahani knew she had been right. They were all in danger now because of her.

‘What?' Neema said.

‘Do you fight?' Jahani asked, half in the nomad mother tongue and half in Hindustani.

Neema understood. ‘Zarur, certainly,' she answered in the same way. So, she could speak some Hindustani. ‘This is my husband's sword.' Neema continued. ‘Tafeeq has never stopped me fighting. Widows often do and even some wives.'

‘Afterward, maybe you can teach me.'

Neema stared at her.

Jahani continued, ‘I have a sword, too. I can use it, but I need more practice.'

Neema made a ‘show me' sign with her hands.

Azhar had given Jahani the sword and her charmed horse Chandi. Because Azhar was her protector and had guided Jahani on her journey, he helped her flee to the nomads. He had said to keep the sword hidden, but surely that wouldn't relate to the nomad women in times of danger. And she didn't want to miss this opportunity to grow closer to Neema. Jahani pulled it out of the bag.

Neema's eyes popped. ‘Where did you get this? Is it a relative's?' Her voice changed. ‘Did you steal it?'

‘Nay, it was a gift.'

‘Who gave it to you? It looks like something a queen would have with those gems on it. No ordinary person would be able to buy a sword like this.'

Jahani looked down at it, then glanced at Neema but didn't respond.

‘Don't worry,' Neema said. ‘I won't be stealing it. Cover it up again. It's too good to use. It belongs on a wall in a rich man's house.'

‘But I want to help you.'

‘I won't need any help. The nomads aren't an easy target. Our tribe is a trained army. We've had to be, moving around the way we do. You'd do better staying in here and keeping Yasmeen, Kamilah and Anjuli safe. And the others.' She pointed her chin at them. Neema's daughter Kamilah sat on a mat with her quilt tucked around her shoulders. Her eyes were wide, but she had a comforting arm around Anjuli.

Jahani asked Yasmeen and all the older women to sit on mats in the middle of the tent, so no swords could slash at them through the walls. Then she crouched by the opening. Neema knelt on the other side, half watching Jahani and half checking outside. The look on her face was stern and warned Jahani to stay inside. But Jahani stared out stubbornly.

They didn't have long to wait. At first light armed men in grey uniforms crept into the quiet camp. She tensed remembering the men that had attacked them on the way to Naran. They had been dressed in brown shalwar qameezes and red turbans and were the men of Dagar Khan. So, these must be Muzahid Baig's men – Tafeeq was right.

She watched as what seemed like hundreds of men surrounded the whole area. What had the attackers planned to do? Kill them while they slept? Still no alarm sounded. Didn't Tafeeq and Rahul see them?

Suddenly she heard the call Rahul gave his hawk, and the nomads burst from their tents, swords raised.

The two groups of men combated in the nomads' compound. Jahani saw Rahul momentarily fighting with a sword and his dagger at the same time. Others were slashing, their swords clashing as men fell. She closed her eyes when blood sprayed from a man's shoulder. Some were wrestling on the ground. Jahani gasped as she spied two armed men racing toward the women's tent. With a whirl of his sword, a nomad boy tried to stop their advance, and Neema rushed out to assist him. But their opponents were fierce and the boy was weakening, even with Neema's help. Soon the men would reach their tent if Jahani didn't do something. Without a moment to lose, Jahani snuck around the back of the women's tent, untied Chandi with trembling fingers and mounted.

Help Neema,
Jahani thought.

But Chandi already knew.
Be ready. Raise your sword, Shamsher.
Chandi reared and galloped toward Neema's opponents.
Slice! Slice!

Jahani slashed down and one of the attackers fell back. The boy moved closer to Neema, and they held their ground.

Danger in tent.

Jahani twisted around and saw an armed man creeping through the flap.

Chandi galloped toward the tent, and Jahani slid to the ground just as the man was dragging out Kamilah. He had one hand over her mouth. Yasmeen was hanging onto his belt trying to stop him, but the man knocked her aside. Jahani watched in horror. She had already lost Hafeezah and Zarah, she couldn't lose Yasmeen, too.

Chandi reared at the man; he threw Kamilah to the ground, raising his sword against the enraged horse. Jahani clenched the hilt of her sword. Could she fight on the ground?

Slice left before he does.

Jahani followed Chandi's command.

Now right.

The man had one eye on Chandi as she pawed the ground like a wild dog, and he didn't see Jahani's blow coming until it was too late. Now he looked at her as if begging for mercy.

‘Get back in the tent,' she shouted at Kamilah, mounting Chandi. They raced over to help Neema and the boy again as more and more men skidded into the area.

Jahani slashed right and left, following orders, but she knew it was the scimitar that was doing all the work, and Chandi who was parrying any blows.

Neema dispatched a man, and Jahani turned to see another man fall. Then one pulled on Jahani's leg, dragging her from Chandi. Neema covered Jahani until she regained her footing, and then Jahani and Neema continued fighting back-to-back to keep the tent safe. That was until Chandi had enough: she reared and then bit the men's raised arms; at the same time, another of Muzahid's men ran over and beheaded Asif, the scout.

A horn sounded calling an end to the battle. As the men retreated, taking their wounded slung over horses, Jahani spotted Muzahid watching from the safety of the trees. His glance swept over her across the compound. For a moment she trembled, waiting to be recognised, but then she remembered he had never seen her face. And besides, even though her eyes were blue, the nomad women had dyed her red hair black. She was safely hidden in her own skin.

Neema was beside her then. ‘So you can fight, after all. I saw what you did for Kamilah.' There was a measured look in her eyes that held no malice.

Kamilah's wail broke into her thoughts. ‘Rahul. Rahul! Where's Rahul?'