Tiger's Dream (Tiger's Curse Book 5)

by Colleen Houck

  “They took whatever you had, foolish boy,” the woman said with a mocking tone. “You’ll not find your things here.”

  “Do…do you know where they’re taking us?” I asked.

  “The slave auction,” she answered. “I imagine a strapping lad like you will fetch a nice price.”

  “Where is it?” I said. “What city?”

  “It moves. Sometimes, it’s in the middle of an oasis. Sometimes a city. Other times it’s by the beach. I like it there best.”

  “So, you’ve been with them for a while?”

  “I keep the captives alive,” she said.

  “Then you must know the girl I’m looking for.” I could feel her eyes on me, even though it was darker than pitch in the wagon. “Please,” I begged. “I’m the girl’s protector. Just tell me, is she alive?”

  There was silence for two long breaths and then the woman said softly, “Yes, boy. She’s alive.”

  I didn’t know I was holding my breath until I let it out. “Thank you,” I said.

  “Seems you’re not much of a protector, seeing as how you’ve been captured yourself.”

  “My incarceration is just temporary,” I said.

  There was a rasping response and I thought the old woman was choking for a moment. Then I realized she was laughing.

  “You doubt my ability to free us?” I asked.

  “Son, I’ve been here a long time,” she said. “Longer than you’ve been alive, I’d wager.”

  She’d lose that bet.

  “No one’s ever escaped. At least no one who’s survived.”

  “Then I’ll be the first.”

  “We’ll see, boy, we’ll see.”

  I twisted and dug my fingers between my ankle and the manacles, trying to find a weakness in the chain, but after several moments, I gave up.

  “Best rest for now,” the woman warned me. “They’ll want you fresh for tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “The auction is tomorrow.”

  One day? I only had a few hours to try to figure out a way to save not only Anamika but myself. It wasn’t enough time.

  The next day I was dragged out of the wagon and doused with a bucketful of water before being unceremoniously dumped into a building. I was forced to sit in the dirt with a dozen other captives, and I scanned the group, disappointed to find only men. The old woman I’d met in the carriage shuffled with a basket of flatbread and handed one to each of us, then came back with a ladle and a jug of water. We each were allowed only one cupful before she moved on.

  When she came to me, she leaned down and murmured, “Try to catch the eye of the man in the purple turban. He’s the one who’s going to buy your girl.”

  Before she left, I caught her hand. Our chains clanked together. “Thank you,” I said. “When I get her out, I promise to come back for you.”

  Her wrinkled face lifted in a weary smile, but she said nothing and shuffled on to the next captive. The afternoon passed slowly as the men were taken out one by one. I heard cheers and boos as the auction went on and then it was my turn. I was dragged out of the building by a burly man with a wicked-looking blade at his hip. When I struggled, he cuffed the side of my head, and the ringing in my ears replaced the sounds of the crowd.

  The area was packed with people. Slaves stood holding parasols over their owners and fanned them as they sat on rugs or chairs beneath the garish sun. I was led up to the dais and was turned one way and another so everyone could get a good look at me. My shirt was torn from my body so they could see my arms and chest, and the auction began.

  It only took a moment to spot the man with the purple turban. He appeared bored with the auction and perused a tray of food instead of watching the proceedings. I didn’t know at first what I could do to catch his attention, but then I noticed the trembling girls who sat around him. Their faces were covered and they were young. Anamika was about the same age.

  The serving boy accidentally spilled something and he froze. Terror turned his skin white. The man just smiled and patted the boy’s cheek. He traced a scar on the young man’s face, and the trembling boy left, visibly shaken. So, I thought, he likes to hurt kids.

  Immediately, I knew how best to get him to buy me. Quickly, I shoved aside the man holding my chain and leapt down from the dais, landing right in front of the man in the purple turban. The girls didn’t even move though I could have easily fallen on them. I shouted at the slave buyers, kicked sand at the man in the turban, and spat in his face before telling him I knew what he liked to do to children.

  Slowly the man stood up, smiled, and offered quite a sizable sum for me just as my handlers were drawing me back. The offer was immediately accepted and I was taken away. Just before they pulled me back inside the building, I heard cheers and turned to look at the dais. Anamika stood there in the middle—alone, dirty, and innocently beautiful. The man who bought me stood up, hunger obvious on his face.

  I wished I could have felt happy that I’d accomplished my goal after I heard the auctioneer shout that the man in the turban had bought Ana, but a sick dread filled me instead. My stomach wrenched when she was brought into the same building. She was chained to the spot across from me.

  Within the space of a moment, I scanned her from head to foot and felt relief to see she was relatively unharmed. She hung her head, her dark hair covering her face.

  “Hello?” I said softly when we were alone.

  She looked up at me with those green eyes of hers, unshed tears making them glisten in the dim prison. It disturbed me more than I thought it would to see no recognition in her eyes.

  “I’m going to get us out of here, Ana,” I said. “I promise.”

  I heard her gasp and then a man came in and demanded, “Were you talking to her?”

  “No,” I said.

  “Teach him a lesson,” a voice behind the guard said. It was the man in the purple turban. “Teach him a lesson and then let’s get underway. The sun is sweltering.”

  “Yes, master,” the guard said. He drew back his arm and then his powerful fist met my face.

  Chapter 17

  A Villain by any Other Name

  My head wrenched to the side and the copper taste of blood filled my mouth. I barely had time to notice one of my molars was loose before the second strike came. By the time my eye was swollen shut and the breath wheezed in my lungs, the man was thankfully called away. I remained still, waiting for the healing to begin and the pain to ebb, but it seemed to get worse, not better. I groaned and reached for the healing firefruit juice only to remember my bag had been taken.

  Knowing the firefruit juice was gone was bad enough, but losing the truth stone was an altogether idiotic thing to do. If this was my quest, the one I was tasked with accomplishing all alone, I was royally screwing it up. Ren and Kelsey would have done much better.

  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 nee
d 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.”

  He wiggled his lethal fingers in my face, the sharp edges of the knives brushing against my cheek, and my blood went cold. The turbaned man had taken his fingers?

  “I’m telling you this because I like you,” the man said as I tried to school the horror on my face. “You’re smart, you work hard, and you keep your head down. I used to be a soldier too.” He paused. “It was a long time ago but I’m not too old to recognize a fellow warrior when I see one.”