Page 82 of Tiger's Dream
I managed to pry one eye open and saw Anamika sitting across from me. She stared at me with wide, fearful eyes. I’d have to do better by her, by both of us. Despite the pain, I tried to give her a reassuring smile but she quickly looked away. She was either scared of getting beaten herself or of the man returning to finish me off.
When we were collected, I followed willingly. Though the beating had been severe, it was nothing that wouldn’t heal over time. None of my bones were broken and my body was still strong. My face was messed up though. I could feel how puffy and bruised my cheeks and jaw were. The worst part was knowing that my swollen face probably scared young Ana. I was sure it wasn’t a pretty picture.
The older version of Ana teased me once about using my good looks to get my way, especially when it came to extra rations. I’d tell her she was crazy. The girls always liked Ren, not me. The servers whispered behind their hands when I came in the dining hall, true, and they offered me extra plates of food, but I suspected it was mostly because I was too severe and unsociable and they wanted to deal with me as little as possible. In essence, they dropped the food and ran.
When I suggested they were frightened of me, Ana laughed in the mocking way she often did and said they were trying to get my attention and that it was too bad that I was too thick-headed to notice when a girl liked me. “There’s nothing left of me to like,” I’d said to her, quietly, feeling sorry for myself. In response, she’d cupped my face in her hands until I lifted my eyes to hers. It was a tender gesture for her. One that she exhibited rarely.
“A smart girl,” she’d said, “would see the man beneath the armor. Besides,” she added, tracing a small white scar on my chin leftover from a long-ago battle, “the strongest gems are the most precious. They do not crack. Weaker stones break against them. These are the gems women claim and place upon their fingers as symbols of love. Is that not correct?”
“It is,” I’d answered, “but you forget, diamonds are coveted for their sparkle, not their durability.”
“And why can’t a woman have both?” she’d asked. “All it takes to bring out the sparkle is a little polishing.” With that she smashed her hand against my nose and began rubbing vigorously. I laughed and pushed her aside but she twirled, rising to her feet, and gave chase with a handful of mud, claiming she needed to rub it into my skin to make me prettier.
That was one of my few good memories with Anamika. She always had the ability to distract me from my dark thoughts. That was the problem. I didn’t want to be sidetracked. I’d wanted to brood while I was missing Kelsey and feeling sorry for myself. Every time we shared a meal after that and I’d get an extra portion, she’d wiggle her eyebrows, trying to make me laugh. I didn’t appreciate her efforts and often left her alone as a result. It didn’t take long for her attempts at cheering me to fade.
Once I’d thought her hard. Too stern and formidable to allow for any softness, but I’d seen many different sides of her now and I’d had a direct link to her emotions. To those who hurt others, she rained down vengeance, but to the small and broken, she was tender and gentle. She didn’t coddle, but her kindness and generosity shone through. I thought that those characteristics were simply a part of her ethereal glow as a goddess, but I saw the signs of it in the young version of her as well.
Even now, as we followed our new master, she gave me a small smile of empathy. It was as if she knew the direction my thoughts had gone and wanted me to know she understood. Though she didn’t know who I was or who she would become and she was barely out of childhood, her presence centered me in a way. I didn’t realize how much I’d come to depend on her companionship. It felt right being close to her even though our situation was far from ideal.
Anamika was put into a cart and I was given a leg up onto a camel. The reins were kept from me and the docile beast I rode followed the man ahead of me. My face burned in the hot sun as we traveled, and I dozed fitfully, grateful each time they offered me a small sip from a canteen. I kept my eyes trained on Ana’s cart, praying that they wouldn’t separate us.
If I was suffering on camelback, I knew the inside of the carriage where she sat with the other new slave children must be miserable. Though I heard the soft sniffles of children coming from the cart, I couldn’t tell if any of the sounds were coming from Ana. The older version of her rarely showed such emotion, but perhaps this younger version was different.
When the sun set behind the dusty hills, we finally came to a stop. Herds of animals, mostly camels, dotted the land. Perhaps my new master traded in them. Then I noticed mercenaries standing guard. There was a man every fifty feet or so, each one brandishing a wicked-looking scimitar. I stopped counting after I passed five dozen. If the turbaned man was a simple camel trader, then I was a…what did Kelsey call them? Ah, an astronaut. Camels needed very little protecting, so why were all the men armed to the teeth, their eyes trained on the horizon?
The rising moon looked watery and I blinked rapidly with my good eye to bring it into focus. Now that the sun was down, the temperature seemed almost mild. A man began lighting lamps atop the watch towers. They cast a muted glow over the sand where all the new slaves were lined up and inspected. The young ones, including Anamika, were taken through one gate, leaving me and two other men to be escorted through another. My muscles strained against my chains as she was guided away. The rattling of my chains caught the attention of several men who circled us and gave me the once-over.
“This one causing trouble?” a man asked.
“Tried talking to the kids,” another answered. “He seemed fine on the journey. Understands his place now.”
The first man grunted and said, “Better keep an eye on him.” Then he gestured that we were to follow him.
After I was locked in a cage, the two other new slaves beside me, we were given plates of food and a cup of water. The two men crumpled to the dirt floor, tucking themselves into a corner, and went to sleep. I stayed alert and listened to the sounds of the guards.
In the Rajaram household, the guards were dutiful; the evening conversations were hushed but contented. This place was very different. The mood was raucous, dark, and as portentous as an incoming storm at sea. The men were hard. Not battle hard but cruelty hard. They reminded me of the men who worked for Lokesh. They’d seen much and they were willing to do whatever was necessary to keep their position, either that or they preferred their heads attached to their bodies.
I sat watching them for several hours that night. The pain in my face would have made sleeping difficult regardless. When morning came, we were introduced to the slave master. If I’d thought the soldiers were hard, this man was much worse. He was missing several fingers off his right hand so he wore a glove. It had been specially made, and instead of fingers, he’d had knives sewn in. The first thing he did was threaten to gut us if we stepped out of line, brandishing his gloved hand to make a point. I believed him.
We were set to work immediately. My strong back was used to doing more heavy labor than my fellow slaves. I quickly proved my worth, but the other two weren’t as healthy or as big as I was and suffered beatings for it. It didn’t take long to learn I was right about my first assumptions. The camel herding was a front for selling weapons.
Because the turbaned man sold weapons to any paying customer, he employed several caravan drivers who traded with various wealthy tribesmen in many different places—even some outside of India. To avoid getting in trouble for selling weapons to opposing kings or providing arms to both armies fighting one another in wars, his identity was kept secret and most of the deals were done with the traders. In the space of a week, I packed thousands of blades, knives, and sets of steel-headed arrows in secret compartments created to fit the over the backs of camels.
On top of those, I loaded grain, cloth, spices, honey, and a variety of other goods to disguise the fact that weapons were being traded. A caravan trading cloth was an everyday occurrence, but if it were known that highly sought-after weapons were hidden among the colorful bolts of fabric, it might tempt the more nefarious to raid the caravan. The traders had a few extra men riding alongside, keeping guard, but that wasn’t anything abnormal.
I had to admit, the entire setup was slick and brilliantly executed.
After a week, there was still no sign of Anamika, though I did spot one of the other children, a boy who seemed to be around fourteen or fifteen years of age. He had bruises along both arms, a limp, and a swollen lip. His frame was sunken and his eyes were hollow. The boy looked starved, and I hadn’t gotten a good enough look at the other children to know if he was purchased at the same time as me or if he’d already been there a while. My guess was he had been recently replaced by the new crop of children.
He passed me bread and filled my cup with water, and as he did so, I gave him a sympathetic glance. I said nothing to the boy, though, except to grunt my thanks. Despite this, the slave master watched me carefully, and when the boy left, he warned, “Don’t talk to the children and don’t talk about them either.”
I glanced up to acknowledge he’d spoken but kept my mouth shut and shoveled in another bite, knowing I’d need all my strength to break out with Ana. Despite the limited freedoms I’d been given, I hadn’t yet managed to form a plan. The citadel I was imprisoned in was formidable. It was built with thick stones into the side of a mountain. Sentries lined the walls at all times both day and night. Archers watched the outlying country through arrow slats big enough to fit projectiles that would take down an armored battle elephant.
Without my powers, I wasn’t even sure I could break myself out, let alone save Ana. She wasn’t even being held in the same place as me. All I knew was that she’d been taken into the fortified home on the far side of the citadel, which was surrounded by another wall. As far as I could tell, the only way in was through a thick iron door, and only the slave master held the key.
It was heavily guarded. To break in, I’d have to obtain the key, pass all the wall guards unseen, and then overtake the two at the door. Then there was the matter of what I’d find on the other side. For all I knew, Ana was held in a dungeon far beneath the home. I rubbed my jaw, thinking if I had enough rope, I might be able to scale the wall instead and climb in through a window. I could glimpse the top of the roof peeking out from behind the wall.
The slave master clocked me over the back of the head. Luckily it was with his normal hand. “Pay attention!” he said. “I heard about the day you taunted our master. Right now, he’s busy with the kids, but he likes to break young men like you too. He’ll come for you eventually. Trust me when I say you don’t want that to happen.”
