Page 100 of Tiger's Dream
“There, you see?” the woman said, shaking a finger at me and then at her husband. “You should thank him properly and use his name now that you know it. In fact, you should be showering him with gold and kneeling at his feet.”
“He doesn’t need to do that,” I began, but I was quickly cut off by Ana’s father.
“I will thank who I will thank and I will use names when I see fit to use them. You do not tell me how to conduct business among men,” he said, his neck turning red. “If I want to kneel and abase myself, I will do so. If I want to give him gold, I will do so. But you will not decide what I do!”
“Bah,” she said and turned her back to her husband but paused at the door. “We cannot dismiss such a man so easily. He brought back our Mika. Does that mean nothing to you?”
The man’s face turned quickly from sour to tender. “Of course it does. It means everything to have her back.” After he said that, he inquired, “Is there any change?”
The woman’s shoulders fell. “Not yet. It’s like she’s waiting for something, but I don’t know what it could be.”
Anamika’s father approached his wife then and touched her shoulder. She fell back against him and he wrapped his arms around her. I pulled out the truth stone and rubbed it between my fingers, something that became a habit of mine on the journey, and was startled to see a soft aura surrounding Ana’s parents. It brightened as they spoke softly together.
I remembered then that the phoenix had said the truth stone would also allow me to see into hearts. It was obvious to me that Anamika’s father and mother loved one another despite their bickering. When she pulled away, he kissed her softly on the forehead and she left. He returned to us, his neck a bit red and his eyes flitted away from mine as if he was embarrassed to have me overhear their exchange.
“My wife is right,” he said. “I have not honored you enough for what you have done.”
“I am happy to have found her.”
The truth stone was still in my hand, and I noticed that the light surrounding Ana’s father had dimmed a bit when he separated from his wife, but it was still there. Curious, I looked at the other men, who I assumed to be relatives or men for hire who had helped in the search. I studied each one in turn and found they all had varying degrees of a bright light surrounding them.
A few were in shades of blue or green—Ana’s parents had been a sunshine yellow—but there was one man who had no light at all. There was nothing outstanding about him. He sat quietly, adding little to the conversation, but there was something about him that was slightly off. It bothered me and I found my eyes turning to him repeatedly.
“Please, you can tell me the truth,” Ana’s father said.
I snapped back to attention. “The truth about what happened?” I asked.
“Yes. We have our suspicions but I’d like to hear it from you.”
Nodding, I let out a small breath and hoped I was right about Ana’s father. Would he be ashamed of her, after knowing what happened? “Do you trust everyone here?” I asked him. “This is a delicate matter.”
“Unquestionably,” he replied.
“Very well.” I leaned forward, placing the stone between my palms and moving it back and forth slowly. “Ana was taken by a caravan of traders and then was given to another band, one that peddles flesh. When I caught up to the first convoy, I managed to get information on the whereabouts of the others. My intention was to barter for her release but I was taken captive myself.
“A kindly slave woman warned me about the man she suspected would buy Anamika. When I was placed on the block, I irritated him enough to get him to buy me as well. It took weeks for me to get into the house where he kept Anamika and the other slave children he bought and even longer to arrange an escape. Once we fled, I not only had Anamika but several other children to take care of. I left them with a generous older couple and took Anamika and left. They gave me supplies, but as you can see, we ran out.”
“And the slave children,” Ana’s father said, “were they working in the home?”
“Some did,” I answered. “Others were kept for the master’s vile affections. I’m sorry to say that Anamika was one of these.”
The men surrounding us gasped and rose to their feet, outraged. The only one to remain in his seat was Anamika’s father. His hands trembled as he closed his eyes. “And where is this man now?”
“I assume he is dead since I stabbed him in the throat.” I leaned closer and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Truly, I am sorry that I could not save her before she was sold.”
“As am I, Kishan. As am I.”
Anamika’s father looked like he’d aged ten years in the space of ten minutes. The men began talking of revenge and asked if I could lead them back to the compound. They speculated as to which caravan was responsible and talked of how many other men they could muster to their cause. All the while Ana’s father sat, unmoving and stiff.
“Could you do it?” he asked.
“Lead them back?” I nodded slowly. “I could. But there are many men at this compound. They’re trained soldiers and mercenaries. As fitting and proper as it would be to rain vengeance upon their heads, you’d need an army to defeat them. They have more weapons than I’ve seen in one place in many years. In my opinion, it would be foolhardy to engage them in open confrontation.”
The air had become tense and tight. I understood how difficult it was to sit and do nothing. I chafed at the notion as well but I knew that revenge rarely soothed a troubled mind.
We sat together speaking softly for many hours. It was as if we were trapped inside a bubble filled with poisonous air. The more the men spoke of the blood they wanted to spill, the more the poison seeped into us, stiffening our limbs and blinding our eyes. It was interesting to me that the one man who didn’t have an aura was the most silent regarding Anamika’s capture.
The sun rose and I took my leave of the men, asking if I could walk in the garden. Anamika’s father joined me. He seemed lost in thought and I was content to be quiet. When he turned down a path, I followed him and was surprised when he stopped at a small monument.
