Daughter of Nomads (13 page)

20

Naran Kingdom of Kaghan Third Moon of Summer

A
fter the women's singing and dancing, Jahani was left in peace. Tomorrow her new life would begin. She listened to the rain falling outside her window and it reminded her of the monsoon in Sherwan. Anjuli had just fallen asleep when Jahani heard footsteps outside her door. They sounded heavier than a woman's and she stiffened. What man would dare come to her room, especially the night before the wedding? Surely not Muzahid, though he was possibly capable of anything. Yazan didn't growl even though his ears were turned toward the noise.

‘Jahani, are you awake?'

She rushed to the door and found Azhar standing outside. He wore his turban and a travelling cloak.

She stared at him in shock.

He spoke first. ‘Anjuli said you were worried and that you were going to write me a note. What did you want to tell me?'

Jahani was speechless. Azhar's presence terrified her. What if a servant saw them and told Muzahid?

‘Please forgive me for visiting, but I couldn't get near you today.' He kept his voice low. ‘I had to come to your room.'

‘You're not meant to be here. Muzahid would kill you.' She scrutinised Azhar's face. His mouth was tight with tension. He glanced behind him as he slipped inside and shut the door carefully. He seemed frightened, too.

‘There is no time to argue,' Azhar said. ‘Why did you want to send a note?'

She paused, then in a rush said, ‘That it doesn't seem right to marry the war lord. Chandi and Yazan have warned me.' She bit her lip as she watched him. Then she took a deep breath and said, ‘I don't want to marry Muzahid.'

Azhar let a sigh escape. ‘I also agree that you can't go through with the wedding.'

Jahani bristled. ‘You've been thinking about this yourself. Why?'

‘I was in the bazaar this afternoon and discovered a few things. Muzahid is not marrying you for love.'

‘I know that already. He's never met me—'

‘What I am saying is he does not truly want a wife. He plans to hand you over to Dagar Khan after the wedding.'

Her eyes widened. ‘For what reason?'

He hesitated. ‘For the same reason Sameela was killed, and the reason we were attacked on the road here.' His eyes didn't meet hers.

‘He wants to kill me,' she whispered. ‘But why?'

A gentle look passed over Azhar's face as though he cared for her feelings. ‘I cannot tell you. That is something you must discover for yourself.'

She turned away frustrated once again by these evasive answers. Would she ever find out the truth? ‘The problem is my father. He said Muzahid was offering the Kingdom of Kaghan protection against Dagar Khan. If I leave, what might Muzahid do?' She faced him again. ‘Will Naran be safe?'

‘He only told Baqir that to marry you, but it isn't true. He has an alliance with Dagar Khan. And when the kingdoms are conquered by Dagar Khan, Muzahid will be governor of Skardu.'

Jahani stared at him, frowning. ‘Are you sure? Wouldn't Baqir see through such a deceit? Why should I believe you?'

‘What?' Confusion spread over Azhar's features. ‘You can question me after all I have done to protect you on our trek? I have known you since you were a child!' His voice had risen but he checked himself.

She narrowed her gaze. ‘Did you know Zarah and Baqir weren't my true parents?'

‘They finally told you?'

‘Awa.'

‘They are your parents by adoption.' He breathed in and out as if deciding what to say. ‘Listen, there are more things you need to know, and I will help you to discover them, but here and now is not the right time. I must take you to a safe place – then you'll find out everything. Get your things, we must leave now.'

She glared suspiciously at Azhar. ‘If you know, why didn't you tell me?'

‘It is not my tale to tell.' He said it simply, but she caught a flicker in his eyes. Was it fear or concern? His excuse was logical, but why did it feel as though he had also abandoned her? He glanced behind the curtain out the window.

Before she realised what she would say, the words burst out, ‘I want to go to the nomads.'

Azhar turned back to her. ‘The nomads?'

‘My true parents must be there. That is where Zarah first saw me.'

He moved closer. ‘Bey ya, it's not a good idea. I can take you far away to a safer place in the north.'

Jahani dragged her bag from under the charpai. The noise woke Anjuli.

‘What's wrong?' She yawned and stretched.

Azhar closed his eyes and muttered, ‘Qhuda, help me.'

Anjuli sat up and saw the bag in Jahani's hands. ‘Are you going away? I want to come.'

‘Go back to sleep,' Azhar hissed. There was no sign of his usual kindness.

Jahani put the bag on the charpai and faced him. ‘She'll have to come with us.'

Azhar frowned. ‘It won't be easy travelling.'

‘What will happen to her? I can't leave without her.'

‘Very well,' his voice sharpened, ‘as long as we leave quietly.'

Jahani quickly threw items into the bag: a change of clothes for her and Anjuli, her prayer rug and Sameela's quilt. She held the little nomad dress for a moment – she knew now where it came from – then laid it on the charpai for Zarah. She wrapped shawls around herself and Anjuli while Yazan padded around the room looking pleased.

When she was ready she stood stubbornly in the doorway, her sword and bag on the ground beside her. ‘What about Ammi and Zarah? I have to tell them we're leaving.'

‘And let Muzahid's men know where we are?' Azar exclaimed. ‘It's too dangerous. A servant could hear you. I'll get word to them when you're safe and away from here.' He blew out a breath. ‘I would rather keep you alive than worry about honour.'

‘Bey ya. You wait here with Anjuli. I will only take a few minutes.'

‘It could be dangerous—'

But Jahani was already through the door. She couldn't possibly leave without Hafeezah knowing. She slipped into the next room and found her lying on her bed, a candle still burning. ‘Ammi, you are still awake.'

‘What is the matter? I thought I heard voices.' She sat up in concern.

‘Please don't worry, Ammi, but I can't marry Muzahid.'

‘What are you talking about? Your wedding is tomorrow. Muzahid will be shamed.'

‘I'm so sorry. I don't want to leave you, but if I stay I won't be able to refuse him. I have to go.' Jahani knelt to hold Hafeezah in her arms. ‘I love you, pyari Ammi. You'll always be my mother no matter what I discover, and I will live the way you taught me. Remember that, whatever you hear.'

‘Qhuda bless you.'

‘And you, Ammi. I will return and we'll live together as before. There are things I need to discover.'

Then Jahani left before Hafeezah could convince her to stay.

She slipped back to her room and regarded Azhar. ‘You agree to take me to the nomads?'

‘So be it, but we must go swiftly.' Azhar shouldered the bag, then turned back to her. This time his eyes were clear like mountain pools as they searched hers. Their reflections decided her. Holding Anjuli's hand and with Yazan by her side, Jahani led them out the door, through the house and into the rain. Remarkably no guards stood in the courtyard and they made it to the stables without incident, apart from getting wet. Azhar had already prepared the horses and Chandi greeted them with a friendly nicker. Jahani mounted quickly; she could tell Chandi was as pleased as Yazan that she was leaving.

Azhar lifted Anjuli up to Jahani. ‘Until we reach the river, hold the reins with your hands on the bells so they don't jingle.'

‘What about Yazan?' she asked Azhar.

‘He will look after himself, but I don't think he will let you out of his sight for long.'

‘Shouldn't there be guards here? And at the house?' Jahani glanced behind her.

‘They are in the bazaar, having a good time with the groom.' Azhar sounded so weary that Jahani felt sorry for the way she'd questioned his intentions. But she had to be careful: there was so much she didn't know and she had no idea who to trust anymore. But soon she would find out. For, now that she was outside and escaping with Chandi and Yazan, she knew she was meant to be doing this. It was a rare feeling.

They galloped north in the rain along the Kunhar River. Visibility was low but the roar of the river kept them on course. In a copse of trees, the rain eased and the horses slowed to a trot. Except for the jingling bridles and snorts from the horses, all was quiet until Jahani asked, ‘Why didn't you want me to go to the nomads?' She thought of the field she had sat in a week ago, watching them.

‘The nomads are still in Muzahid's jurisdiction. And I want to take you north myself, but perhaps this is best for now. It is too wet – not even birds would fly in this rain – and the nomads will hide you.'

Jahani ignored his strange words about birds and clung to the idea of nomads. ‘How do you know they will welcome me? Do you trust them?'

Azhar drew Rakhsh beside Chandi and put his hand over Jahani's. ‘They will care for you because you were one of them.'

Jahani pulled her hand out from under his. ‘I should have left a written message. Zarah will worry.'

‘Bey ya.' His response was swift like an arrow hitting its target and she flinched. ‘It has to look as if you fled the marriage. Because I am also gone, everyone will think I have abducted you.'

For a long moment Jahani stared at him, trying to make out his expression in the darkness. She would be without blame, but he wouldn't. ‘You will be a marked man. Muzahid will kill you.'

Azhar chuckled without mirth. ‘He has to catch me first.' He moved Rakhsh on.

Now Jahani's head spun with questions and doubts. Perhaps Azhar had some scheme of his own. And how would she talk to the nomads if they accepted her? She didn't know their language or their customs. She thought about returning, but then thought of Hafeezah. Despite her encouraging words, she hadn't seemed happy about the wedding, and her protestation about Jahani leaving tonight was weak. Then the thought of finding her birth parents pierced through the confusion in her mind and she gently kneed Chandi to catch up to Azhar.

They arrived at a field and the tents of the nomads loomed before them in the darkness. The rain began falling gently, so they drew to a halt under a tree.

A few dogs barked. ‘Nomad dogs can be vicious when guarding the tents at night,' Azhar said as a warning.

Azhar dismounted and helped Anjuli down. Then he reached for Jahani. Normally she'd ignore his help, yet feeling his hands circling her waist as he lifted her down, she felt a strange yearning. Her hands rested on his forearms and she felt his body shift. He held her a moment longer than necessary. She looked into his face, her shawl falling backward. She sensed there was more than concern in his eyes and she started in wonder – he didn't want her to go.

‘I could ride back now,' she whispered. ‘I could ask Baqir to stop the wedding and you would be safe.'

He frowned. ‘But you wouldn't be. And Baqir won't stop the wedding. You know that. If you won't come north with me now, then this is the safest place for you. I will return later to take you further on your journey.'

She shut her eyes. ‘Why is my safety the only thing you think of?'

‘Because you cannot fulfil your destiny if you are dead.'

Her eyes flew open again. She searched his face. ‘Destiny?' Chandi also spoke of destiny.

He glanced away toward the tents as if to stop himself from saying words he'd regret. Then he looked back at her, and she could see his confusion. ‘We all have a destiny to fulfil,' he finally said.

She shivered. Her hand glanced against his embroidered kamarband and she frowned. What a mystery he was. She thought of the sword he gave her. Even she knew it was priceless. ‘Azhar?' she whispered. ‘Who are you truly?' Did she even mean him to hear?

After a moment he said, ‘Azhar Sekandar, at your service.'

She caught the irony in his tone and stepped away. She wondered how she could be so annoyed with him and yet also dread the moment when she wouldn't see him again.

Instantly a thought crowded her mind. ‘Azhar, do you know who I am?'

He hesitated. Then he leaned close.

She smelled the leather he wore and the fennel and spices on his breath.

‘You are a shehzadi …' He whispered into her ear as she imagined a lover would. ‘Jahani …' His hands rested on her arms and she felt a searing warmth where his fingers pressed into her. She didn't even think about stepping away. ‘You will—'

Anjuli pulled on her shawl. ‘What are we doing? I'm getting wet.'

Jahani shook her head as if coming out of a dream. ‘Certainly, Anjuli.'

Azhar drew back from Jahani and took down her bag and sword from Chandi. He left his carpet tied safely to Rakhsh and it saddened Jahani for wherever they'd gone the carpet went, too. It was as if the carpet was his home.

‘Are you coming with the nomads, too?' Anjuli asked, skipping to match his stride.

Azhar picked Anjuli up in his free arm. ‘I cannot come with you.' Over her head, he glanced at Jahani. ‘It would look suspicious.'

‘But you'll be careful?' Jahani said it quickly without thinking.

He set Anjuli and her bag down near the tents and touched Jahani's cheek. ‘I am only a prayer away.' His voice was low.

Jahani squinted at him. Was he blaspheming now?

He grinned; she saw his teeth shining in the darkness. ‘I will not be far from you – do not fear.'

Jahani pulled herself straighter and even though her chest was heaving, she said, ‘I am not afraid.'

‘Good.' She could hear the humour in his voice as he picked up the bag again and gave her the sword. Then he said, ‘Be careful who you trust, and keep your sword hidden in the bag.'