Tiger's Promise (6 page)

“Have you been ill?” he questioned.

“No, Father.”

Roughly, he yanked the veil away from my face and narrowed his eyes as he cupped my
chin, turning my head one way and another to study me. Shoving me aside, he cornered
Hajari and wrapped a hand around the man’s throat. His eyes bulged, and he wheezed
as he scratched feebly at my father’s hand. “You will see to it that she eats, that
her hair is brushed and oiled until it shines, and that there is not a mark on her
face, or puffiness under her eyes. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, my King,” Hajari coughed out.

“Good.” He let his servant down and added, “She leaves in three days. See to it she’s
ready. I want her adorned as a princess. Now, go. I must speak to her alone.”

Hajari, whose throat was now swollen and red, retreated without a word and shut the
door behind him.

My father said, “Now then. There are a few things I think we should discuss before
you leave.”

—

Dread filled me when the palace of the Rajaram family came into view. I was in the
middle of a large caravan, riding in an opulent carriage, and I was dressed as if
I were a great queen already. My father had spared no expense in presenting his deadly
little gift to the Rajaram family. Inside a trunk full of sumptuous silk dresses and
veils was a hidden compartment packed with bottles of poison and sharpened knives
small enough to slip inside a pocket.

I knew the consequences should I fail. My father had made it perfectly clear to me.
I was to please Dhiren, the eldest, marry him, discover the secret whereabouts of
his family heirlooms, steal them, and kill him. Until that time, I was to spy on the
Rajaram family.

If I didn’t do what my father wanted, he would torture Isha. I twisted the little
lock of Isha’s grey hair in my pocket. He’d given it to me as a reminder that I needed
to fulfill my duty. In fact, he’d been so specific about the methods he’d use to hurt
my nursemaid that I had no doubt that he’d not only done it before but would relish
the opportunity to do so again.

My stomach clenched painfully, knowing that I had agreed to become a secret assassin
and a spy for the sick, depraved man my father was, but the consequences should I
fail were unthinkable. I couldn’t allow my beloved Isha to suffer at his hands. I
didn’t know if I could commit murder to save her, but there was no doubt I owed her
for protecting me from him. Every time I saw her, the limp she had reminded me that
it was my fault she suffered, my fault she stayed in his employ. I wouldn’t leave
her in his hands.

When we arrived at the palace, I was introduced, and each person I met seemed open
and kind. Hajari had come with me and tried to insert himself as my so-called protector,
but thankfully the military advisor, a shrewd man who seemed to see right through
my veil to the secrets hidden within my heart, assigned his own man as well. He was
wise to do so. Hajari’s actions were severely curtailed with a Rajaram soldier constantly
nearby.

I didn’t meet Deschen until dinner that evening. The queen was the epitome of poise.
She watched me from the other side of the table and asked polite questions about my
home and family. She interpreted my guarded answers as a case of my being shy. After
dinner she called me to her private chamber and bade me sit at her side. Women of
all ages surrounded her and chatted happily while they sewed.

When she saw I was reluctant to talk about myself, she spoke of her distant family,
of her homeland, and of her sons. Her love for her family was obvious, as was the
fact that she was fiercely protective of her children. She seemed surprised when I
asked about her younger son but was very willing to share stories of his youth. I
soon learned that Kishan had been sent out to the borderlands and would likely return
within the month and that Dhiren wasn’t expected for some time. Deschen said she wanted
to get to know me first before the decision regarding a betrothal would be made.

Every day I was given leave to wander the palace grounds, always with my two escorts,
and every evening I spent with Deschen. It didn’t take long for me to admire Kishan’s
mother. She fascinated me almost as much as her son did. It was clear that there was
a great love between Deschen and her husband. When it was time to retire, the emperor
came to fetch his wife. Together they bid good night to all the widowed women she’d
taken in.

The women, whose husbands had died in the war, were fiercely loyal to the Rajaram
family, and I felt buoyed by just hearing their stories. I wondered if there might
be a way to save Isha. She would flourish as one of the queen’s women. I was just
beginning to feel at home and safe when my father paid me a visit.

A desperate nightmare woke me. My arms prickled with gooseflesh, and I noticed that
the shutters were open, the curtains billowing in the breeze. I’d just gotten up to
close them when I heard a voice. “You look well, my dear.”

Freezing in place, I instinctively lowered my head. “Father,” I said.

“How are things progressing? Has the family accepted you?”

“I believe they have.”

“Then what is taking so long? Why have I heard nothing about a betrothal?”

“The queen is still considering me. Besides, both princes are away.”

“Yes. I’m keeping them busy.”

“But why? I thought we wanted them here.”

He moved so quickly I wasn’t prepared. My father thrust me up against the wall with
his forearm at my throat. “What did you say?” he asked, his dark eyes glittering in
the moonlight.

“I apologize,” I whispered. “I didn’t mean to question you.”

“Remember your place,” he hissed.

I nodded, cursing myself for being so reckless. My time away from my father had made
me complacent.

“I don’t need to explain my actions to you. Still, should the queen mention the skirmishes
keeping her sons away, you may assure her that you have enough influence over your
father to stop them should they agree to the uniting of our families. Have you seen
the medallions I asked you to find?”

“No. Neither the queen nor the king wears them on their person. The military advisor
does not allow me or Hajari to move about the grounds without one of his men present.”

My father muttered, “I should have had that Kadam killed.” When I said nothing, he
took a step back, finally releasing me from his hold on my neck, and said, “Do you
know the reason I seek those medallions?”

“No,” I answered carefully. “I only need to know that you want them.”

“That is right.” He seemed pleased with my answer. Tilting his head, he considered
me for a moment, then said, “Perhaps, my dear Yesubai, it is time for you to understand
exactly who you are.”

I felt the oxygen leave my lungs. “What do you mean?”

“Yes. If you know my motivations, you’ll understand how best to serve me.” Turning,
he clasped his hands behind his back and began. “You are the daughter of a very powerful
man, and I don’t mean politically.” He strolled around the room fingering various
objects that belonged to the royal family as he did so. “I was once the heir to a
throne of a large province in a land far away from here.” He turned back to me. “Even
though I had to kill my brother and my step-mother to ascend to the throne, I gave
it up.”

That he’d killed to accomplish his goals wasn’t surprising, but walking away from
a throne was. “You didn’t want that power?” I questioned.

“Ruling a kingdom isn’t power,” he spat as he looked down his nose at me. “This is
real power.” He pulled a chain around his neck and showed me a broken amulet attached
to the end.

“What is it?”

“It is called the Damon Amulet.”

“Is that a tiger?”

“How very clever of you, my dear.” He rubbed his thumb over the amulet with an almost
affectionate expression. He murmured quietly, as if lost in thought, “A very long
time ago there was a great battle that united the kingdoms of Asia. A demon had appeared.
He ravaged the countryside, and finally his atrocities became too horrible to be ignored.
Five kingdoms gathered to defeat the monster once and for all.”

My father had never told me anything about his past. Most of what I knew I’d gleaned
from bits and pieces I’d overheard. I was fascinated and horrified at the same time.

He continued, “On the eve of their defeat, a goddess beautiful and horrible rode in
to lead them on her
tiger,
named Damon.” Smiling secretively, he tapped the tiger claws on the medallion. “When
the demon was finally dead, she gifted each kingdom with a piece of the amulet. Soon
it was discovered that the amulet pieces controlled the elements—each segment governing
one. It is said that if the amulet is ever reassembled, its bearer will wield the
power of the goddess herself.”

It explained so much—the blue fire I’d seen at his fingertips, the water spilling
from the mouth of the man who’d dared touch me, the small tremors in the ground whenever
he was angry, the fierce winds he’d summoned in the garden, and the untimely death
of the king. This was what drove my father. This was what he sought. And somehow,
a portion of this power he’d gathered had been passed on through his blood. My abilities
were gifts from a goddess.

He smiled as if taunting a child with a toy. “You can see there are two missing pieces.”

“These are the pieces I’m looking for?”

“Yes. Once the amulet is made whole, there won’t be anything or anyone I can’t control.
I will be invincible. And if you’re very lucky, you’ll live to bask in my glory. It
won’t be the same as if you were a son, but I never close myself off to new…opportunities.”
He cupped my chin in his hand, his grip tight. “If only you had a bit of fire in your
blood.”

A son? Who would he...? Deschen. She was the woman he lusted for.

“But Deschen might be past her childbearing years.”

“Yes. That is a possibility,” he admitted. “This is why I’m entertaining the notion
of allowing you to marry one of the princes. If I cannot have a son to mold in my
image, perhaps a grandson will do.”

The idea that my father could become even more powerful was astonishing. Everything
made sense. The reason I’d been sent. The skirmishes with the Rajaram family. It was
all to get those amulets and to wrest Deschen from her family.

Now that I knew my father’s true motivation, it was even more imperative that I hide
my abilities. If he knew what I could do, he’d mold me and my progeny into what he
was—a murderous, power-hungry, vessel of evil. The weaker and more docile I appeared
to be, the less he would see me, and the less he saw, the less villainy he’d expect
me to participate in.

“You know what I expect,” he said. “You have two weeks to either announce your betrothal
or find those medallions. For every day after that, I will send you one of Isha’s
fingers in a box.”

Swallowing my horror, my eyes filling with frustrated tears, I murmured, “Yes, Father.”

When I looked up, he was gone.

Five

Sleep eluded me for the remainder of the night. That my father could gain access to
the palace grounds so easily frightened me more than I liked to admit. I despaired,
thinking that I would never truly gain any semblance of freedom, that my father’s
shadow would haunt me and those around me for the rest of my life.

Still, knowing that he had gone to such lengths to insert me into the Rajaram household
meant there must be a limit to what he could do. The fact that he needed me to accomplish
his purpose was an indication that he wasn’t all-powerful. Perhaps, if I was very
careful, and very clever, there might be a way to circumvent his plans, but such a
betrayal would come with a high price. If I was to move against him, I needed to be
absolutely certain of success.

By the time the sun rose, I was dressed and sought out Deschen. Despite the short
time I’d been around her, I sensed that she could be trusted, and if there was one
thing I needed to beat my father at his own game, it was a powerful ally.

I was told that Deschen was in her women’s room and entered without knocking only
to find the queen wrapped in the arms of her husband. Of course, I knew I should have
left immediately, but my feet were rooted to the spot.

The emperor was a handsome man, much like his son, Kishan, the man I’d been thinking
of for weeks despite my determination not to. Deschen’s husband wore his power like
a mantle across his shoulders, and yet he held his wife as tenderly as if she were
a precious flower.

She obviously didn’t fear him in any way. In fact, she boldly wriggled away when she
noticed me and appeared to fear no reprisal whatsoever in rejecting him. Her husband
laughed, not at all angry when she pummeled her fists against his chest, and he seemed
not even remotely embarrassed to be caught passionately embracing his wife. He moved
behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, and politely asked if I’d slept well.

Though I opened my mouth to reply, no words came to me, and Deschen rescued me from
the awkward situation by reminding him that I was shy, especially around men, and
that he should cease from making me uncomfortable and go and find something kingly
to do.

“Yes, Hridaya Patni,” he answered affectionately.

Chuckling, he gave me a wink, kissed his wife on the cheek, and whispered something
in her ear, making her smile, before leaving the room.

When he was gone and she’d made herself comfortable in her favorite chair, she beckoned
me closer. Before I’d even taken a step, I blurted, “You love him,” almost as an accusation.

“Yes.” She smiled and lifted her hand to me. “Is that so shocking?”

I took a few hesitant steps forward. “Men are…”

“Men are…what?” She took my hand and gently pulled me down to a pillow near her feet.

I wrung my hands, wondering how I could finish the sentence without offending her.
Finally, I said, “Men are not to be trusted.”

She laughed softly and then sobered as she studied my expression. Reaching to the
side of my head, she raised her eyebrows, asking my permission. At my nod, she carefully
detached the veil covering my face and cupped my chin. The gesture was kind and motherly,
and though I tried to contain my emotions, tears filled my eyes. For a long minute,
she looked at me. “Has a man hurt you, Yesubai?”

My body shook with little tremors, and when the words eluded me, she said, “Tell me.”

I knew that I needed to consider every word as if each one would lead to my death
and, what was worse, to Isha’s death, but being in her presence made me feel as if
hope was a thing I could reach for, as if there might be a happy ending somehow for
me. I licked my lips and began to speak, and so intent was our conversation that an
hour passed before I paused.

She listened with the kind of empathy I’d only experienced with Isha. When I was done,
she stroked my hair and said, “You will be safe with us, Yesubai. I promise you that
my son would never treat you unkindly. He will be patient with you. However, if you
wish not to wed at this time, you are welcome to stay regardless. I would offer you
sanctuary as I do my women. But I hope that you will consider at least meeting my
son before you decide.”

It was so easy. The kindness she showed made me feel all the more vile, all the more
duplicitous, for the things I hadn’t shared with her. If anything was sure, I wasn’t
worthy to be a member of this family. They were trusting, genuine, and without guile.
My father would destroy them, and if I couldn’t do anything to stop it, I would hold
myself accountable for their demise.

After I assured her that it was indeed my intention to ally myself with her family,
she uncovered a hidden doorway behind a curtain, saying that I could use it when I
needed to escape Hajari’s attention. It led out into the garden, and as I made my
way down the secret passage, I willed myself invisible and wondered if I had made
a grave error.

My father would be angry at my methods, but even he couldn’t deny the results. There
was, of course, the possibility that he would never find out. Rajaram’s wife had agreed
to hold my confession in the strictest of confidence. Still, I thought the potential
benefits outweighed the risk.

In order to garner Deschen’s sympathy, I’d told her of my father’s abuse. Not everything.
If I had tried to do that, it would have taken much longer than an hour. In actuality,
I’d shared not even of fraction of what I’d experienced at his hands. I didn’t disclose
his sorcerer-like powers or the fact that he’d threatened Isha’s life. I made no mention
of the poison secreted in my closet or the knives that fit into concealed pockets
sewn into my gowns.

All it took to make her my champion was to speak of my father’s anger. I told her
about the time he’d destroyed the nursery in a fit of rage over my crying as a baby.
That he had beaten Isha senseless for allowing me to make such a noise. Deschen’s
eyes filled with tears along with mine when I described him throwing me against the
wall so hard that it knocked me unconscious. She gasped when I spoke of the months
I’d spent locked away from the world with only the flowers to brighten my room.

There were enough stories to tell—tales not so uncommon to women—that I had plenty
to share without going into any detail of the supernatural. I added that Hajari had
also threatened me multiple times, making inappropriate advances, pinching and touching
me when my father wasn’t nearby.

Finishing, I begged her not to mention Hajari’s abuse or do anything about it so my
father wouldn’t know. She agreed but insisted on telling me about the secret passages
in the palace. Then she surprised me by saying she thought I would be a good match
for her son and that, if I was willing, she’d like to arrange a meeting.

The fact that she accepted me so readily left me feeling skeptical of her abilities
to discern. I’d gotten the result I wanted, but I wondered what the cost would be
and not just for me but what it would mean for her and her family.

My father returned at the two-week mark, and I gave him the news that Deschen had
agreed to the match and wanted to arrange a meeting with Dhiren as soon as a lull
in his duties permitted. The news pleased my father. He assured me that the skirmishes
would immediately halt so that I might be introduced to my future fiancé.

When I inquired as to Isha’s health, he merely gave me a wide smile akin to a cat
that’s cornered a mouse. Then he whispered more threats, saying that Hajari had been
frustrated with my constant disappearances.

I answered with a partial truth. “Hajari makes some of the women here nervous. Deschen
has banished him from the women’s room, and as I have been garnering her favor, I
have been by her side almost continually.”

He stared me down as if trying to pick apart the secret thoughts in my head, but finally
relented. “Very well. In his free time, I’ll have him spy on that Kadam.”

Lokesh left by whatever secret means he had come with a promise that he would visit
me again, very soon.

The next day, I was sitting near Deschen half listening to the morning reports from
the men she sent out to bring her news of the warfront, when one of them said something
that perked up my ears.

As he bowed and left, I asked Deschen, “Was he indicating that your son has returned
home?”

“Yes.” She beamed and then added. “Oh, not Dhiren though. It’s my younger son, Kishan,
who has returned. I would imagine he will be joining us for our evening meal.”

“Oh.”

“Do not be concerned. You will meet Dhiren soon enough.”

I shook my head and gave her a small smile. “I look forward to it.”

“Very good. Now perhaps you will excuse me? I’d like to ensure the cooks will make
Kishan’s favorite meal tonight.”

“Of course.”

She placed her hand on my lower back as I rose. “Perhaps you’d like to walk in the
garden? There is a maze at the center that is difficult for most people to navigate.
I should think you can easily avoid your father’s man there.” Lowering her voice,
she whispered, “The trick is to always turn to the left.” With a twinkle in her eye,
she departed along with her entourage, and when I was alone, I used my ability to
become invisible. Taking her advice, I set out to explore the garden maze, something
I’d longed to do.

The Rajaram garden was very different from the hanging gardens above the king’s palace,
but it was beautiful all the same, filled with flowers of every description and leafy
trees that smelled of perfumed sap. Confident that I remained unseen, I took my time
exploring, fingering delicate plants and flower buds until I came across the maze.

Curious, I entered and turned left a dozen times until I came upon the center. A fountain
full of lotus flowers beckoned me closer. In the middle of the maze surrounded by
hedges so tall I couldn’t see over them, I felt safe, as if the plant life I loved
so much could wrap around me and protect me from everything bad in the world.

Because I felt so secure, I let the power shielding me melt away and raised my face
to the hot sun. When I became too warm, I shook the veil loose from my face and hair,
let it fall about my arms, and ran my fingertips through the fountain, splashing the
water on my neck and face. The humming of bees and the song of birds settled me, and
I was able to forget where I was and, what was more important, who I was. In the garden,
I was just a girl who loved flowers.

Among the pink and white lotus blossoms, I noticed something different, something
I’d seen before. It was the same lavender water flower I’d found in the king’s fountain.
“Impossible,” I whispered and reached down to pluck it from the water so I could examine
it closer. “Perhaps you are more common than I thought.”

A rich voice behind me said, “I would argue that it is exceptional.”

Startled, I dropped the flower and turned. Standing at the opening to the center of
the maze was the man I hadn’t been able to forget, though it had been weeks since
I’d seen him. I blinked, momentarily dazzled by his wide smile until he took a step
toward me. Then I remembered myself and hastily pulled my veil over my hair and face
then lowered my head.

He hesitated at seeing my reaction. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

My tongue felt tied. I wanted to speak but couldn’t seem to figure out what to say.
Instead of demanding an answer or growing impatient with me, he approached the fountain
and picked up the flower I’d dropped on the stone. Gently, he placed it back among
the other blossoms. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked, though he didn’t seem to
care if I answered. “I saw it in the garden of Bhreenam and asked for a cutting before
I left. I thought my mother would like it.”

“It’s lovely,” I whispered.

Tiny little fish darted to the surface, reminding me of the koi where I’d stood next
to him earlier, but this time he knew I was there. As if reading my mind, he said,
“There is a story told by my mother’s people about these fish. Far away, there is
a river full of them. Though it doesn’t happen frequently, some koi fish will swim
all the way to the head of the river. There they find a large waterfall, and the bravest,
most unwavering fish that exhaust themselves by leaping to the top are given a gift
by the gods.”

“What would the gods give a fish?” I asked, quietly curious.

He tilted his head, and though I could see a gleam in his eye, acknowledging he’d
heard, he didn’t turn toward me but reached out and ran his hand through the fountain
and then cupped the back of his neck, wetting his skin with the cool water.

“They are transformed into great dragons. The waterfall at the head of the Yellow
River has thus been named The Dragon’s Gate. So you see, any creature, even one as
unassuming as a fish, can become something mighty. When they courageously endure their
trials, they meet their destiny.”

What he’d said was remarkable. Not only because I was wrapped up in his ability to
tell a story but because he seemed to know exactly what I needed to hear. I, too,
struggled against great odds, and I thought if there was hope for a lowly fish, then
perhaps the gods were aware of me as well. Maybe if I proved my worthiness, I could
be granted the gift I sought.

“I apologize for my disheveled appearance,” he said, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Kadam worked me over more than usual. I fear he punishes me for being gone these
last few weeks. He thinks I’ve grown fat and lazy without his daily rounds.”

As he loosened his shirt and splashed water on his neck, I swallowed and wet my lips
but was otherwise frozen in place. Kishan was anything but fat and lazy. In fact,
he was the most beautiful specimen of a man I’d ever seen. His arms and chest were
thick with muscle, and his shirt clung to his body in such a way that made me feel
like I’d been standing too long in the sun.

Speaking of the sun, his golden eyes, especially when they glanced in my direction,
were warm enough to melt me into a puddle where I stood. In fact, I was surprised
I hadn’t pooled into the fountain already. I was imagining what it would be like to
be the water he was splashing against his skin when something caught my eye.