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.’