Page 103 of Tiger's Destiny
“No, it does not.” I stood by her mutely for a moment before saying, “You aren’t to blame, Anamika.”
“Every death here is my responsibility.”
“Death comes,” I said. “There’s no stopping it. You can only do your best to help as many as you can.”
She wiped angry tears from her cheeks and turned away, “What do you know about death?”
“More than you might think.” I played with thekamandalhanging at my throat and confessed, “I used to be afraid of death. Not for myself, but I feared the death of those I loved. It crippled me. I wouldn’t allow myself to be happy. I have since come to realize that I was wrong.” Anamika whispered, “There is no escape from death.” “No, there isn’t,” I admitted, “but there is still life.” I found a bag of water hanging from the side of the tent and held it out to her. She took a long drink and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
I said quietly, “It dishonors the deaths of our loved ones to shut out happiness. We throw away what we could have been and waste our opportunities. We each have a purpose, a destiny, and to realize it, we must reach beyond what we think we are capable of.” My eyes locked with hers intently as I said, “A wise woman once told me that I needed to learn the lesson of the lotus flower: All of our human experience, both the good and the bad, grounds us like the sludge in a river. We may be rooted in pain or suffering but our job is to rise above it, find the sun, and bloom. Only then can you brighten the world for others.”
She took another drink of water and snorted. “You sound like my aged grandmother.”
“Aged? Speak for yourself. You are much older than me. Trust me.”
“Then why should I listen to the wisdom of the young?” I shrugged. “You’ll have to decide for yourself if you’re going to take my advice or not.”
Anamika replaced the waterskin bag and asked, “Why are you here?”
I put my hand on her shoulder. “We’ve come to help you.”
She gave me a small smile and asked, “And how can one as tiny as you be of any help to me?”
I grinned and said, “Follow me and see.”
We wound our way through the ocean of tents, and once again, I marveled at how many people were gathered here. It wasn’t just men either. There were several women and even some children in the camp.
Anamika explained, “Before my brother was taken, I sometimes stayed back to run the camp with these women. I was at his side constantly until my brother was captured and fell prey to the demon.
“When we were young, our father taught us together. We were inseparable. Our nursemaids said we were two halves of a bitter melon, especially when our tempers were roused.” She smiled at the memory.
“It quickly became obvious that while Sunil was a powerful warrior and natural leader, I was gifted at organizing armies. Though he overpowered me in strength, I often beat him with cunning. Together we were unstoppable. Sunil always respected my opinions, and between us, we won every squabble, were successful in every maneuver, and overcame every obstacle. We were an unbreakable team, until now.” She lightly stroked her bruised jaw.
I felt pity and a newfound respect for her as she talked more of her upbringing and her family. She loved her brother, and she was truly devastated that he had been turned against her.
Spotting the copse of trees near a rocky outcropping, I guided her to my secret stockpiled tent. When we got there, I pulled back the tent flap.
“It was set up on the outskirts of camp so I think your men forgot it was here,” I explained, hoping she’d accept the flimsy excuse.
Anamika entered the tent and paused. As if stepping inside a temple, she fingered the fabrics in an almost loving way. “It is a gift from the gods,” she exclaimed.
I smiled. “Something like that.” I let her examine the textiles for a few minutes, and then said, “There’s more. Come outside.”
I led her to my new soaking tub, and her eyes lit. She dipped her hand into the warm, bubbling water. A look of intense longing swept over her face. “I have not been able to bathe fully for weeks,” she said and let out a soft sigh. “The men will be able to relax here.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” I said. “So what should we do first?”
Anamika’s all-business expression took over again. “I will have the goods immediately distributed and inform our medics of the hot spring.” She turned to me and said, “Thank you, Kelsey.”
“You’re welcome.”
She smiled at me and, for the first time, I glimpsed the goddess who had been my protector for the last few years.
For the rest of the day, I helped Anamika go from tent to tent to tend to her soldiers. Well after lunchtime, she touched my shoulder, smiled, and offered me half of her small flatbread. My stomach growled in protest, but I felt good staying by her side. There were so many who were wounded and starving. She left me late in the afternoon to see to the returning hunters.
I moved on to the next tent, encouraged the men to drink from the water barrels, and offered sips from a waterskin with a higher concentration of the mermaid’s elixir. I also made sure they had enough clothes and bedding to keep them warm. None of the soldiers spoke English, but the wounded tried to communicate in Hindi.
“Svargaduuta,” one man said as I lowered his head gently to the new pillow that had just been brought in.
