The Leopard Princess Read online

  Gulzar was the first to bow his head, then they all followed suit. ‘Please don’t,’ Jahani said. ‘Treat me as you always have.’

  ‘Sit, rest yourself.’ Gulzar indicated cushions. ‘In the last moon I have received my daughter back, gained a fostered granddaughter I never knew I had, and soon the lost shehzadi will be restored to her rightful kingdom. I can die a happy man.’

  Jahani grinned at him. ‘You and Ammi can live with me in the fort when the kingdom is restored. I believe this can happen without a war – my nomad mother told me so.’ Jahani knew Yasmeen would be pleased that she had finally arrived in the kingdom.

  There was a silence, then Gulzar said, ‘I have ill news from the fort. Dagar Khan heard about Muzahid marrying the shehzadi in Skardu. He has spies everywhere it seems. After twelve summers of his forces occupying this land, hoping the people would finally accept him, this news has provided the ultimate threat to his rule. He will not stand for it. He has vowed to produce your body to destroy the people’s hope that you are alive. Don’t doubt that he will kill everyone to finally prove he is the heir. He’s preparing to fight Muzahid’s forces, expecting Muzahid to invade Hahayul with you as his bride.’ Gulzar looked into Jahani’s eyes and asked, ‘Did Muzahid marry you?’

  Jahani shook her head. ‘My leopard came in time. And Azhar.’

  ‘Actually, Muzahid Baig may be dead,’ Azhar said.

  ‘Jahani fought him,’ Anjuli added.

  ‘Pardon?’ Hafeezah looked near to fainting.

  Gulzar stared at Jahani. ‘Fought?’ Then he paused as if choosing his next words carefully. ‘We have another concern. Dagar Khan has moved your grandmother, Kaniza, into the fort and set a guard on her rooms. Either he has heard she is raising support for you in the kingdom or he has another plan.’

  Jahani made a move to rise, but Gulzar waved her down.

  ‘But we must help her,’ Jahani said.

  ‘Not now,’ Hafeezah cut in. ‘It’s still night and you must regain your strength first.’

  ‘But I just fought a war lord and won.’

  Azhar regarded Jahani with a strange expression. ‘There is something I need to tell you also.’ All eyes in the room turned to him and he took a deep breath. ‘When I told you I had a foster parent, I didn’t tell you that he was the wazir of the Kingdom of Nagir.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Jahani stared at him, her mouth ajar. ‘Who are you?’ she whispered.

  Azhar held Jahani’s gaze. ‘I have always given you my true name.’ His glance flicked to Hafeezah.

  ‘Azhar Sekandar Khan,’ Hafeezah whispered, ‘Shehzada of Nagir.’ Hafeezah looked at him and then at Jahani, concern clouding her features.

  Jahani shook her head, confused. Shehzada? He really was a prince, after all? ‘But the stories said the shehzada of Nagir died with his parents.’

  ‘There was a boy with my mother when she was killed, but he was my friend. I was safe in the home of the wazir, my foster father. That is how I survived. The boy died for me.’

  The room was quiet. Jahani’s thoughts were in turmoil.

  Anjuli broke the silence. ‘I knew it! I knew you had to be a shehzada to fly the carpet.’

  Rahul had told her Azhar couldn’t be trusted. Words burst from Jahani’s mouth before she could stop them. ‘Muzahid said the Nagir prince also wanted this kingdom. But I didn’t know what he could mean.’

  Colour rose in Azhar’s cheeks. ‘I am not just another warmonger who wants to steal what is yours. I want to see you rule your kingdom. You have my support in this. You always have.’

  Jahani could feel a fire lighting in her belly. It flickered through her chest and roared up her throat; she couldn’t blow it out. ‘You’ve known all along who I was,’ she exploded, ‘rescuing me at the bazaar, giving me a pari horse, bringing us to Naran – all under the pretence you were keeping me safe?’

  ‘I was protecting you and now you are here. Safe.’ A muscle in his face tightened. ‘I was advised not to tell you about our identities in case you refused to believe.’

  ‘You could have given me the chance to decide.’ The memory of him whispering ‘shehzadi’ in her ear came unbidden to her mind. She pushed it away. ‘You almost told me, but you stopped. Why?’

  Azhar watched her, his eyes troubled. ‘I thought it could have been too much of a burden. You might have been frightened, or ally yourself with the wrong people.’

  ‘You thought? What makes you an authority over my life?’ Jahani spun away, gulping in air. She couldn’t stop the flames spreading. She told herself to think like a shehzadi. Would the Angrezi rani keep a man around who had an eye on her throne? Certainly not. Her eyes burned as she turned to Azhar. ‘I thank you for all you have done for me, but I should be able to look after myself now.’ Her tone implied he should leave.

  Hafeezah cut in. ‘Surely you will stay with us, Azhar.’ She cast a meaningful glance at Jahani.

  Azhar’s mouth tightened. ‘I don’t think so, kaka.’ He grabbed his carpet and strode to the door.

  ‘Azhar, wait!’ Anjuli ran after him.

  Jahani heard Hafeezah as she bid Azhar farewell at the door. ‘Do not worry, acho … she will relent.’

  But Jahani wouldn’t. She had been a pawn in everyone’s game long enough. Now she had to think of one thing only: what was best for her kingdom.

  Hafeezah and Anjuli returned to the fire where Gulzar was stroking his chin, frowning. Anjuli stared at Jahani, her reproach as loud as words. Jahani thought of all those years when Hafeezah had let her think she was her true mother. She addressed Hafeezah. ‘Did you also know all this from the beginning? Is that why you taught me Burushaski and Hahayul culture? Did Zarah and Baqir know, too?’

  Hafeezah shook her head. ‘None of us knew. I was here when the massacre happened, and after Dagar Khan took control, Bapa and I travelled south to Kaghan selling carpets. That is how we came to be where Zarah and Baqir lived in Naran. When I met you I did not think you were the shehzadi. You were in danger, but that was because Dagar Khan was obsessed with red-headed girls. I taught you my culture because it is all I know. I was told by Zarah to bring you up as my own and she would fetch us when she could. I’m sure she didn’t know either, or she wouldn’t have left you with me.’

  ‘But you knew before tonight. You are not shocked by my news. Nor Azhar’s.’

  ‘Azhar told me as we travelled north to the Kingdom of Gilit. Though I was not surprised. He has never held himself as a mere guard. And you – it all makes sense now.’

  Hafeezah tried to take Jahani’s hand, but she pulled away.

  ‘He didn’t lie, Jahani. The young shehzada of Nagir was called Azhar Sekandar. If we had thought to match the feather with the bird we could have worked it out.’

  Jahani thought about Hafeezah’s words. There were many times Azhar had dropped hints about her life, her destiny. Times when he said he had something important to tell her, like on the carpet when he showed her the sea. He’d even told her she was a shehzadi before she went with the nomads. He had said he’d return and tell her more, take her north, but Rahul took her instead. Was that when it all went awry?

  Hafeezah interrupted her thoughts. ‘We must always be careful that pride or hurt feelings don’t blind us to truth. Think about why he didn’t tell you. It is possible he didn’t want you to be fearful of him.’ She paused. ‘Perhaps he wanted you to care for him as a friend, not as a person of high rank. I’ve seen the way he looks at you when he thinks no one is watching.’

  Jahani gave her a sharp glance, but Hafeezah walked to a trunk. ‘Ali Shah had your carpet bag and shield. He gave them to me for safe keeping.’ She handed them to Jahani. ‘It is so wonderful to have you both safe at home. May you dream well, shua thapan, good night.’ She kissed both girls and retired to a platform to sleep.

  Inside the bag Jahani found her prayer rug and Sameela’s wedding quilt. No more fear, my Sameela dear, wear your gold bangles the whole year. She smiled sadly as she lay
under the quilt with Anjuli. Did the Angrezi rani wish she could love even though she stayed firm for her kingdom? Jahani felt she had acted for the Kingdom of Hahayul when she sent Azhar away, yet why did her heart tell her otherwise?

  27

  Camp of the Makhfi

  Kingdom of Gilit

  As soon as Azhar left Jahani, he flew to the Kingdom of Gilit to the Makhfi. His wound ached and he had no joy in his heart as he watched the sun rise. He had thought Jahani cared for him; she had called for his help and Yazan had relayed the message. Then when he rescued her from Skardu, Jahani was smiling at him and her words were soft, like a lover’s.

  But if she had felt anything for him, it had dissipated last night. It was what he had feared: that when Jahani discovered all he had kept from her she would lose trust and faith in him. The anger in her eyes flashed at him even above the clouds.

  He had been angry, too. It had taken all of his control not to retaliate. She didn’t know all he had done to protect her; how he’d kept her safe – even from himself. Now she would never know how hard it was for him not to tell her. What would he do with this love that burned in him like fire?

  ‘So the shehzadi is in the Kingdom of Hahayul at last?’ Ali Shah seemed pleased to hear Azhar’s news as they spoke away from the other men.

  Azhar inclined his head. ‘It is time, but I must warn you that the shehzadi wishes this manoeuvre to be bloodless.’

  Ali Shah stared as if he were joking, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

  ‘It is true,’ Azhar said simply. ‘She does not want a war where innocent people will die.’

  ‘The shehzadi has mentioned this before, but I was hoping she’d see reason.’ Ali Shah scratched his beard. ‘Anything is possible … except a bloodless war.’ He paused. ‘We will assemble our forces in there. Who knows? Perhaps a show of our strength will disarm Dagar Khan’s army.’

  ‘I hope so,’ Azhar said without conviction. ‘Can you bring my stallion, Rakhsh, when you go?’

  ‘Certainly. Actually I have already moved most of the army across. They are waiting in a forest near Baltit.’

  ‘How did they get through the narrow gorge into the kingdom? The blizzards are only just abating.’

  ‘We have an excellent guide – an ally of the shehzadi’s. He has brought two thousand trained mountain men and has been guiding my men across the mountains where there are no checkpoints. I was wrong about him.’

  ‘Who is this guide?’ Azhar asked.

  Ali Shah turned toward his men. ‘Rahul!’ he called.

  Azhar stood quite still. Now Rahul was back his future was even more uncertain.

  When Rahul walked up it was obvious they were still not sure of each other. It had been like that when they were boys playing together in the nomad camp. Azhar suddenly said, ‘She thinks you are dead.’

  There was a silence before Rahul said stiffly, ‘Perhaps that is best.’

  After talk of the campaign, Azhar realised they had one thing in common: the desire to support Jahani.

  Afterward Azhar flew to Jask to talk with his father. He followed the Indus River flanked by tall mountains until he saw people and rose higher above the peaks, their snow caps reflecting the sun’s pink rays. He was grateful Rahul was helping Ali Shah, but what if Jahani still had feelings for him? It was obvious she did when she refused to leave the nomads all those moons ago. And the same thing had happened at the Indus River. This challenge was much harder than ­planning a war. How was he to scale the battlements of Jahani’s heart?

  As soon as he saw Kifayat his words poured out. He didn’t even greet Bilal who was writing at another desk, though the man put down his quill to listen. ‘I have lost her regard, Pedar. She doesn’t trust me. So much has happened. Jahani discovered who she is, but it was from Ali Shah, not from me. After she discovered her true identity, she was abducted, became sick and nearly died in a blizzard on the way to Skardu, and then she was poisoned in Muzahid’s fort—’

  ‘Wait, aziz, you must calm yourself. How haggard you look.’ Kifayat embraced him and Azhar winced. Kifayat stood back, frowning. ‘You have been injured.’

  Azhar didn’t want to talk of his wound.

  Bilal approached them. ‘Sit down. Take subz chai. It has been two moons since we’ve seen you.’

  Azhar paced while Kifayat brought in a tray with green tea in Persian glasses and small round shami kebabs. ‘Now, tell us, how do you know Jahani was in Skardu?’

  Azhar no longer cared about couching his words in hidden meanings. ‘Jahani’s leopard appeared to me in a dream and told me where she was. The leopard speaks to her. At times I can sense when she talks to her horse through her mind – one time I knew she was in trouble in a forest near Naran.’

  Kifayat stood and paced the floor. ‘You know the tale about your ancestor and Jahani’s being the child of Sekandar the Great and a pari?’

  Azhar nodded.

  ‘Not everyone believes it. But if it is true it would explain all that you speak of. Is Shamsher the sword loyal to her?’

  Azhar inclined his head. ‘I’m sure of it. She can even fly the carpet without training.’

  ‘That is probably more to do with you.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘It is your carpet and yet it accepts her command as though it were yours.’

  Bilal cut in, ‘Don’t you see? You must try to win her good grace again. She has gifts that mustn’t fall into the wrong hands.’

  ‘I know this,’ Azhar said miserably. ‘Dagar Khan has begun his campaign to win the kingdoms. He aims to kill her. Soon he will know she is there and will find her. He has a powerful pir.’

  Kifayat put his hands on Azhar’s shoulders. ‘There is an important matter you must know.’ He glanced at Bilal.

  Azhar felt foreboding whelm within his heart, but he faced both men squarely.

  ‘The treaty your father signed with Jahani’s father does not only state the kingdoms will be joined together,’ Bilal said, ‘it also states that you and Jahani are to be joined … together…in marriage. It was I who witnessed it.’

  Azhar put his hands in front of his face to ward off the words. ‘I do not need to know this. I care for her without this incentive.’

  Kifayat leaned closer. ‘Now you do need to know. It gives you the right to fight in her name. She is your betrothed and was long before Muzahid said she was his.’

  Azhar stared at Kifayat and Bilal. They had kept this secret from him, just as they had kept information from Jahani. Did Kifayat think he wouldn’t accept it? ‘Jahani’s not a girl easily won by pretty words. I will not go to her until she calls me.’

  ‘What will you do in the meantime?’ Kifayat asked. ‘Leave things up to chance, or work toward freedom for her people and yours? You mustn’t let your personal feelings distort the way of your true path.’

  Azhar sighed.

  ‘Who else may be willing to support Jahani?’ Bilal asked.

  Azhar thought of Rahul. He seemed willing, though he wasn’t sure why. Instead, he said, ‘Ali Shah, certainly. But he will want to use his own methods.’

  ‘Are they so different from Jahani’s wishes?’

  ‘He will use war to regain the northern kingdom, but Jahani wants to bring peace without bloodshed.’

  Kifayat stared at him, his brows furrowed. ‘And you also believe this?’

  Azhar shrugged. ‘It is possible. A nomad pir told her this prophecy. Most of Dagar Khan’s army are northerners and must be tired of his barbaric reign. Ali Shah’s Makhfi forces alone could sway the people without a fight if we could infiltrate Dagar Khan’s army.’

  Kifayat smiled at him. ‘Then you know what you must do.’ He enveloped Azhar in a gentle embrace. ‘Do not lose heart, aziz. The most important thing is to bring peace. Keep your thoughts on this.’

  Azhar smiled wryly. ‘For in my thoughts lie my actions.’

  ‘As Qhuda wills.’

  28

  Baltit

  Ki
ngdom of Hahayul

  Two weeks later, Jahani woke to find Yazan purring on the floor beside her mat. Yazan! You’re here. ‘You have a bandage on your leg.’ It looked like Hafeezah’s work.

  It was a long way, the knife wound reopened.

  I’m sorry you were hurt because of me.

  There is no shame in a wound on your behalf.

  She put her arms around his neck. His white fur was almost grey from his travels. He rubbed his cheek against hers.

  Yazan, my determined prince.

  The words made her think of Azhar. He was a prince – the shehzada of Nagir. She had wondered who he was many times; he’d been so mystifying. So why was she incensed when he finally told her? Was it because he had been with her under false pretences or more that she hadn’t worked it out for herself? Or perhaps it was guilt, the appalling realisation that she had been treating him like a servant, even when she believed she was little more than one herself.

  But he had deceived her about her own identity, too. She thought about his words: I was advised not to tell you in case you refused to believe. In her heart she knew it had been better for her to discover who she was herself; she believed Ali Shah because he voiced her dream. In the end she had made a political decision, dismissing a man she could no longer trust. But she couldn’t erase the regret. It tasted bitter like bile in her throat.

  Do not be distressed, Shehzadi. Chandi is here also. We are ready to help.

  Hafeezah brought over freshly washed clothes to the platform where the girls slept: embroidered caps like Hafeezah’s, white dupattas to wear over them and everyday shalwar qameezes that wouldn’t draw attention.

  As they dressed, Jahani said, ‘Ammi, where’s Chandi?’

  ‘In the tark.’

  ‘What’s that?’ Anjuli asked.

  ‘In Hahayul, an animal shelter is called a tark.’

  Jahani looked up. ‘I’ll take her for a ride later.’

  ‘I doubt she’ll be up to it. Chandi and her stallion look as if they have galloped over the Haramosh Mountains. Besides, you have to be careful about being seen.’