Free Daughter of Nomads by Rosanne Hawke Page A

Jahani said.
    â€˜They would have killed us all—’ He stopped suddenly as if he thought better of sharing what he was about to say. ‘His men will come back for him.’ He guided her into the cave.
    Hafeezah hurried to them as they entered. ‘Are you all right?’
    â€˜Awa, but we must leave now.’ Azhar’s tone was brusque. ‘We cannot wait for nightfall.’
    Within minutes their belongings were packed, the fire scattered and they urged the horses out into the daylight before mounting. They made their way through the forest, climbing ever higher. Jahani couldn’t stop thinking of the men who followed them. Could they be connected to the attack on her in Sherwan?
    Azhar pushed them forward; he rode at the rear. When Jahani glanced back, she could see him continually checking the way they had come.
    It was evening and becoming cold when they reached the high fields of Shogrun. ‘Ooh.’ Anjuli was enchanted. ‘It’s a pari field.’
    They pulled their mounts to a standstill and stared in wonder. ‘It is called the Forest of the Sky,’ Azhar said.
    Something strange was happening to Jahani. As she gazed at the miles of moonlit silver grass she saw the fields in daylight with a little girl, a boy, a horse and a leopard playing amongst the wildflowers. It was the place from her dream! But how could she have known about this place? She looked up to find Azhar regarding her, a crease between his eyes.
    â€˜It’s so beautiful,’ Jahani said.
    â€˜Isn’t it?’ Hafeezah said. ‘We used to come here.’ Then she glanced at Azhar and fell silent.
    â€˜We? What do you mean?’ Jahani asked.
    â€˜I came here,’ Hafeezah said steadily with another glance at Azhar, ‘and often times I brought you, Jahani. But you were only four. I’m not surprised you don’t remember.’
    But I dreamed it, Jahani thought. Maybe I wasn’t too young to remember, after all.
    â€˜Come.’ Azhar’s voice sounded strained. ‘We must reach the lake, there will be people we can trust.’
    Jahani had the oddest sense he was upset, but why?
    The full moon rose a few nights later as they reached the mountains surrounding Lake Saiful Maluk.
    They descended and guided their horses around the perimeter of the lake. It was cold, still, and so achingly beautiful in the moonlight. A mist hung over the centre of the lake and the snowy mountains reflected silver on the surface. The water lapped at the horses’ hooves and the jingle of their harnesses and their nickers punctuated the surrounding silence.
    Chandi snorted and Jahani could see steam hanging in the cold air. ‘You like it here, don’t you, girl?’ she whispered.
    Jahani felt peace flood her body; it could have been one of her dreams.
    Azhar led them to a wooden hut near the edge of the water. As he dismounted, the door opened and an older man emerged.
    â€˜Rasheed, old friend,’ Azhar cried.
    The man kissed Azhar’s hand and sank to touch his feet.
    Azhar pulled him up with a laugh and glanced at Jahani.
    She frowned. Why would an old man touch Azhar’s feet?
    â€˜Mikal, my son, see to the horses,’ Rasheed said as a young man Azhar’s age took the reins.
    Rasheed ushered them inside. After a welcome meal of rice and Mahseer fish curry, they sat back against cushions to talk. Jahani could see that Rasheed knew Azhar well. ‘Has it taken you a moon to reach Lake Saiful Maluk?’ he asked.
    Azhar nodded. ‘Almost.’
    Rasheed glanced at the others. ‘You must be very tired. You will sleep well tonight – you are safe here.’
    â€˜Accha, good,’ Azhar said. ‘But we may need to stay awhile even though we are only a half-day from Naran.’
    Jahani wondered how Rasheed knew they’d be safe. The lake seemed isolated – a good place for an ambush.
    As if he could read her thoughts, Rasheed