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Authors: Colleen Houck

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BOOK: Tiger's Promise
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I knew that he encouraged the contests not to filter out the weak, though that was
certainly something he would do, but to stir the blood of the men. The fights were
staged, and the beasts were given opium to make them more vicious than normal. The
elephant battles attracted the most bloodthirsty of men, vicious warriors with no
compassion who sought to profit from war and the pain of others. In short, it was
a way to recruit the types of men he wanted to surround himself with.

But for the party, the battles and blood had been scrubbed away. The palace gleamed
with thousands of lamps and the colorful dresses of hundreds of women, who, wearing
tinkling jewelry, graced the walkways as if they were vibrant flowers bobbing among
the scenery.

Inside, the sparkling light reflected off the wall paintings, colored glass, marble,
and mirrors. Fantastic murals depicted the great victories of past kings. Each room,
each hallway, each open terrace was a masterpiece of architecture, and every corner
was filled with the riches of the kingdom—precious vases collected from exotic locations,
art that had been completed by masters under commission, and sculptures so beautiful
I wanted to run my fingertips over the carved details.

Despite the opulence of the palace interior, there was one thing above all else I
wanted to see—the famed raised garden of the uppermost court. I knew my father wouldn’t
wish to visit such a place. There were no courtiers, no diplomats, no political strategies
going on there, but I thought, perhaps, if I could just catch a glimpse of the legendary
garden, then I would commit the sight of it to memory and reflect upon it through
my long and lonely years.

Unfortunately, I lingered a bit too long by a marble statue of the goddess Durga,
and my father jerked my arm painfully and squeezed my wrist until the blood throbbed
hotly in my hand. We moved silently ahead until we came across a couple my father
wished to speak with.

He finally let go of my wrist, and I twisted my hand back and forth with as little
movement as possible until the feeling returned to my fingers. My reprieve was short-lived,
though, and we soon entered the king’s reception room—a wide area bedecked with so
many lanterns and so much greenery that I felt like I was in a forested grove beneath
hundreds of stars.

My father led me from person to person, and I couldn’t help but notice that nearly
every man who approached appeared to be assessing me. One was even bold enough to
reach for my veil. Immediately his fingers fell away and he began to choke. Water
spilled from his mouth in such vast amounts as to be unnatural. Quickly, he sped away,
and I was unsure if the man survived our encounter.

“Come, Yesubai,” my father instructed as he took my arm in a tight grip. “I must speak
with the king to discover why your presence warrants such…unsolicited interest.”

As we waited for our turn to speak to the king, my father’s impatience left bruises
on my already sore arm, though from all outward appearances, he seemed unperturbed.
Lokesh stared unabashedly at the king’s golden throne, his eyes deferential when someone
turned to him but calculating when they looked away.

Finally, it was our turn to approach. The old king smiled kindly at me and clapped
his hands together in delight.

“Lokesh, the war hero! How fares our army?” the king asked with an expression that
clearly showed he was more interested in the celebration than in my father’s answer.

Bowing stiffly, my father replied quietly, “Our enemies cower before the power of
your throne, Great King.”

“Very good,” the king said dismissively. “Now then. I suppose you are wondering why
I arranged this festival and specifically asked for your daughter to attend.”

“I am…curious,” Lokesh responded.

“Ah, my genius friend, I am delighted. If I truly have kept this secret from you and
all of your palace spies, then I will happily take credit for achieving something
most mortal men cannot—deceiving the master of cunning. Fortunate was the day you
entered my kingdom, Lokesh.”

“I feel exactly the same way, My King.”

“Yes.”

“Now, perhaps you might be persuaded to share your secret.”

The king chuckled. “Yes, my secret. The king clapped my father’s shoulder, a gesture
I knew my father detested. “My friend, you know that I have no surviving children
of my own and that you are the next natural leader in the kingdom.”

My father smiled—an oily, snakelike countenance that frightened me to my core. Apparently,
it didn’t have the same effect on the gullible king. The man sitting on the throne
had a jackal in his midst masquerading as a faithful dog. It was only a matter of
time before his new pet turned and devoured him.

“You flatter me,” Lokesh said.

“Not at all. Any praise I give is well deserved. Now then, I have been carefully studying
your activities and forays into other kingdoms.”

“Oh?” my father said.

“Quite. I’ve come to appreciate your efforts to expand the borders of our kingdom
through diplomacy, negotiation, or”—he leaned forward and lowered his voice—“intimidation.”

More like conspiracy, confrontation, and terrorization
, I thought.

The king continued, “As such, I have embarked upon a bargain of my own.”

Little shock waves of pain blistered my arm where my father held on to it. I could
literally feel the anger pulsing beneath his fingertips.

“What have you done?” My father managed to twist the words to sound carefree, though
I sensed the real threat behind them. The king was, of course, oblivious.

Gleefully, he announced, “I have invited some of the most powerful men from the surrounding
kingdoms here with the promise that one of them”—the king raised his eyebrows and
darted his eyes quickly from side to side—“the one who offers the most pleasing bargain,
will have your daughter, the lovely Yesubai, to wife.”

Two

Exhibition

My breath caught and my body froze. For a panicked moment, I thought I’d vanished,
but the king darted his eyes between me and my father, trying to gauge our reactions.
Fortunately for me, my veil obscured the shock I managed to quickly hide. The tension
in my father’s hand did not show at all on his face. He gave the king a taut smile.

“And how long have you been planning this, Great King?” my father inquired politely,
though I could tell he was seething. My stomach wrenched painfully, an indication
that he was gathering his power around him. I’d never felt it emanating from him with
such tremendous force before. I could almost sense the darkness coalescing inside
him. It boiled and churned, rising up like a volcano about to erupt. That he could
contain it at all surprised me.

“Oh, for at least several weeks. I have to admit, I am pleased with the response.
It would seem that the interest of many powerful men has been piqued. I have been
quite busy fueling their desire to take to wife the daughter of my practically infamous
military advisor. That so many have come is a tribute to our mutual reputation and
the inroads you have made in the name of my kingdom, my friend. Not to mention the
unabashedly true rumors of your great beauty, my dear.”

The king added the last in an attempt to flatter, but instead his words chilled me.
I knew nothing would persuade my father to marry me off to anyone, even a man he could
conceivably gain from. The fact was, I belonged to him and he had no intention of
letting me leave. He’d made that fact very plain to me over the years.

Finally, my father spoke. Giving the king a jackal smile, he said, “How fortunate
we are to be of use to the royal house. My daughter would be…honored to meet the suitors
you have brought to our kingdom.”

I didn’t miss the use of “our” when he spoke of the kingdom. Otherwise what he’d said
astonished me. When he hadn’t found a clever yet polite way to reject the king’s offer,
I couldn’t help but wonder what his strategy was.

Surely, he could have argued that I was too young, that I was the only female to care
for the household since the passing of my dear mother, a falsehood that might be easily
believed by one as naive as the king, or that the timing was just not right. Even
I could come up with a dozen reasons to rationalize a quiet rejection of the king’s
offer.

Perhaps my father simply didn’t wish to embarrass the king. Maybe he’d been caught
off guard and hadn’t yet come up with an alternative. Risking a glance at the man
standing at my side, I could see that he was once again under control. He was playing
at being the diplomat as he turned to one man and then another. The rising power I’d
sensed had ebbed again, cloaking itself from all but the most discerning.

Though I tried not to allow hope that the king’s offer might actually come to fruition
to blossom in my heart, it did. Even the vilest of men at the celebration were better
options than staying with my father. All it would take was a lapse in security, a
small moment of complacency, a fragment of trust, and I would make my escape with
Isha. Perhaps this shocking scheme would be my way out.

The king made his announcement immediately, inviting my father and me to stand with
him on the dais.

“My friends! Gather around. As you know, I have not been blessed with a child and
have no royal successor, but that does not mean that my kingdom is without prized
jewels. In fact, my clever and most loyal military advisor has a daughter, indeed
one who is lovelier than a goddess, and he has graciously allowed me the opportunity
to give her away in marriage much as I would had I a daughter of my own.

“What we seek is a union. A perfect match. She desires to be joined with a proper
groom, of course, but this will be a merging not just of people but of nations, of
power, and of affluence. Come! Look closer. Her decorum is without blemish. Her innocence
and youth would allow a man to mold her into the sort of companion that would best
suit him. A more perfect wife you could not aspire to.”

The king stood up and circled around me. My father reluctantly let go of my arm. The
fact that I was on display was humiliating, but what was worse was the knowledge that
my father would somehow blame me for the king’s actions. Not only would he beat me
severely but there was now no way he would leave the city. Not with my future uncertain.

Enjoying his grandstanding, the king continued with a flourish. Each claim he made
stirred the crowd even more. “Truly I have never seen a flower of such beauty. She
is as rare a gem as she is precious. I would know as I am one of the privileged few
to have seen her without her veil.”

At this my father glanced down at me, his eyes glittering like sharp daggers. He had
long ago insisted that I keep myself veiled when in public, and I always had. The
king had never had an opportunity to see my face. At least I didn’t believe he could
have. The only place I went without a veil was within my own chamber.

“I must confess, my friend”—the king clapped my father on the back—“I was passing
your home and saw your young daughter at the open window, her face aglow with moonlight.
I was captivated by her exquisite face.”

My heart sank. I was usually so careful to hide myself from the outside world, but
when the moon was full a few months ago, I hadn’t been able to sleep. It was hot and
I crept to my window, allowing the sweet breeze and the cool light of the full moon
to bathe my overwarm skin. That was when the king must’ve seen me.

Now, thanks to the king’s confession, I would be moved. There would be no more flowers
because there would be no more windows. Isha and I would be housed in a walled-up
dungeon of a space without light, without air, without even a glimpse of the outside
world.

Dejected, I lent only half an ear to the king. “Though I am an old man,” he said,
“even I was struck by her great beauty. My military advisor has kept her all to himself
over the years, but to hide such a treasure from the world is a disservice. So tonight
my gift to you is to allow all of you to partake in the splendor of my palace, enjoy
the succulent fruits of my garden, and bask in the perfection of our women.”

I didn’t know what the king was going to do until he was at my back. Clumsily, he
tugged at my veil, pulling it away from my face. The pins were wrenched painfully
from my hair, and several long, black strands fell away with the golden veil. I felt
naked and exposed, but I stood tall, knowing instinctively that cowering would not
be the proper thing to do.

For some reason, my father had allowed this to happen. Maybe it was to teach me a
lesson or to put me in my place. Whatever the reason, I felt the inherent need to
protect myself, and protection, when it came to my father, meant one thing only. So,
I lifted my shoulders, schooled my expression, and lowered my eyes.

The king put his hand beneath my chin and lifted my head. “Let them all see you, my
dear.”

I gave him a polite smile and looked around at the people staring up at me. There
were a few audible gasps, several leering men, and a few women who looked at me with
marked jealousy. Others gave me pitying glances or looked me up and down in a cold,
calculating way, but whatever the response from each person, there appeared to be
not one soul in the room who was not staring at me.

But then I found one. A single man stood in the back studying the statue of the goddess
Durga. He had filled a plate and had his back turned to us as he ate, seemingly entirely
uninterested in the king’s announcement.

The man was young, perhaps only a few years older than myself. He wore a dark coat
trimmed in gold that accented his powerful shoulders and narrow waist. His thick,
shoulder-length hair curled at the ends, and I was surprised to find that I wanted
to see his face.
Why would a man come to the celebration and not want to be a part of it
? Perhaps he had no interest in taking a bride. When he touched the exact same spot
on the goddess’s hand that I had earlier, my curiosity was sparked.
Who was he
?

“There now. Did I not tell you she was beautiful?” the king asked openly.

“Breathtaking,” one leering man nearby murmured as he gave me a suggestive smile.

“Quite lovely,” an older man added as he came forward and introduced himself to my
father and reacquainted himself with the king. The older man seemed kind. Perhaps
he was offering himself as a groom.

I’d never allowed myself to entertain the possibility that I would have a chance to
wed someone young and handsome—a man who I could love and come to trust. For my purposes,
an older man might be the better choice. It would likely be an easier arrangement
to escape from. When the older gentleman looked my way, I gave him a shy smile.

My father was busy and didn’t see, but Hajari did, and I knew there would be a reckoning
later, but perhaps salvation could be bought with a few careful smiles and some feigned
interest. When the king formally introduced me to the old sultan, I bravely asked
if perhaps he might share a plate of food with me.

He was delighted and offered his arm to escort me to the buffet tables. The king looked
on proudly. I didn’t dare look at my father. Unfortunately my escort followed closely
behind.

“Don’t mind my guard, Hajari,” I said. “My father dotes on me and ensures my safety.”

“Of course. I understand,” the well-dressed man replied. As he filled a plate for
us, he asked, “Do you think you might enjoy living by the sea?”

“Do you live in Mumbai?” I asked attentively.

“No. I live in Mahabalipuram. Do you know of my city?”

“I confess I do not.”

“Our city is bustling with a busy port. We trade with many far-off lands, and we have
several artisans and sculptors who make our temples and shrines beautiful. Perhaps
you would consider a visit.”

“She would not wish to live in a city of coarse sailors, Devanand. She belongs in
a city of beauty. Allow me to introduce myself, my lovely. My name is Vikram Pillai.”

“Bah, you are a merchant! Your title is purchased. My blood is royal!”

“Your blood is old. She needs a groom who can walk without assistance.”

“How dare you! Please disregard his outbursts, my dear. A young girl as innocent and
as fresh as you are should not be subjected to such inappropriate disturbances.”

“Her youth is the issue at hand. I am a much better match. And I can offer wealth.
There is no one else with more profitable trade caravans.”

“You might have more wealth at your disposal, but you forget that I have a fleet.
An alliance with my kingdom would be a much wiser decision.”

“We’ll see about that!”

“Yes. Indeed we shall!”

The younger man with a droopy mustache left us alone, and I felt grateful, but he
wasn’t the first interruption or the last. A circle of men had surrounded us, each
one clamoring for attention and offering his wealth, his lands, his titles, or, in
some cases, his person, in exchange for my hand in marriage. It was overwhelming.
What little I’d been able to pluck from our shared plate soon turned to ash in my
mouth. A hand latched on to my arm and tugged me not too gently from the circle of
men.

“Gentlemen, my daughter will return momentarily. Please allow me a moment to speak
with her in private.”

My father’s grip on my arm was absolute, and there was a strange expression on his
face. There was no doubt he was irritated by the whole situation and found the pawing
men distasteful. At the same time, there was something behind his eyes, an unexplained
delight that made my blood run cold.

He nodded to a passerby and waited for us to be alone, then said quietly, “The king
has graciously”—his words dripped with sarcasm—“invited us to stay the night. You
will retire to the women’s wing. As soon as the king says his good-nights to his guests,
Hajari will escort you as far as the outer doors. You will behave yourself with the
proper decorum I expect, and in the morning, I will summon you. If I discover anything,
anything at all, in your behavior to be what I would consider inappropriate or not
to my liking, Isha will suffer horribly. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Father.”

“Good. Now cover your face. The men here have ogled you enough tonight, I should think.”

“Of course.”

Immediately I worked at reattaching my veil, and when it was done to his satisfaction,
he left me alone again with Hajari, who whispered hotly at my ear, “You think this
is your chance to leave, but you aren’t going anywhere. I see you strutting around
like you’re the king’s prize when we both know you’re nothing but a plaything. A broken
little doll.”

Hajari risked running his hand up my arm. I stiffened but said nothing. “You see,
I know what all these other men don’t. That you like being knocked around, and someday
when your father isn’t watching as carefully, I’ll show you the proper way to play.”

Fortunately, another suitor appeared at that moment and Hajari backed away. The rest
of the evening, I was kept busy being escorted on the arm of various men, each attempting
to coax my favor in one way or another despite the fact that we all knew the decision
rested with the king and my father and not with me. Had I been able to choose, I would
likely go with Devanand. The idea that Isha and I could disappear on a ship to a faraway
land was appealing.

Through the night, I caught glimpses of the quiet stranger as he wandered the hall.
There was no doubt he was a warrior. His powerful build and the way he carried himself
made it obvious. Once a servant carrying a tray of sliced fruit stumbled, and he not
only caught it but he helped the woman right herself. At that moment, he turned and
I sucked in a breath. He was the most handsome man I’d ever seen.

On the arm of Devanand again, I asked carefully, “Who is that young man? The one there
dressed in black?”

BOOK: Tiger's Promise
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