The Tiger Prince

by Iris Johansen

  Eagerness surged through Ian. It would soon be here. When the moment came, he must struggle, he must fight it as decreed by holy law, but it was coming nearer.

  He could almost see the light.

  “It was not my fault.” Benares’s voice cracked with panic. “I’m only a craftsman. You are the one responsible. It was your mistake.”

  “I made no mistake,” Pachtal said harshly. How could it have happened? he wondered. It was incredible. “I will not take the blame.”

  “You must take it.” Benares’s eyes were glittering, his hands shaking. The goldsmith had never before dared to speak to Pachtal in this manner, but his fear of Pachtal was clearly submerged by his terror of Abdar.

  He was not without fear himself, Pachtal realized. Abdar had been growing stranger and darker ever since his father’s death, and he did not know what effect this blunder would have on his temper. Abdar’s rage might fall on him as well as on Benares, and he had no wish to join the collection gracing Abdar’s walls.

  “I will not ask you to take the blame.” He turned away. “Pack it in a box and send for that Cinnidan servant, Tamar. Tell him to take the box and deliver it to Medford’s camp to send on to the Scot. Abdar will never see it. I will tell Abdar I misunderstood his orders and thought he meant to send it directly to MacClaren.”

  “He will be very angry,” Benares said doubtfully.

  “Not as angry as if he had seen this … this monstrosity.” He nodded at the gold mask. “You keep your counsel and I’ll keep mine, and we will both survive.”

  “My God, it’s Margaret!” Ruel jumped to his feet and moved toward the rider approaching the campfire.

  Jane followed him, her heart pounding with fear. Margaret’s very presence here heralded disaster, and she was riding astride, her white gown dirty and torn, her fair hair streaming down her back.

  Ruel grabbed the reins as her mare skidded to a stop. “Ian?” he asked curtly.

  “Behind me,” Margaret gasped. “I told Medford to keep him at his camp until I could come for him. Kartauk said you had to know at once.”

  “Know what?”

  “Abdar. Two hundred men … the dock was burning …”

  Ruel swore. “Dammit, I didn’t expect this so soon! How far behind?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. There was no sign of pursuit as I came down the canyon. Medford said he’d start to strike camp and put a watch on the trail.”

  “Let her get down,” Jane said as she moved closer. “Can’t you see she’s exhausted?”

  “Sorry.” Ruel’s voice was abstracted as he lifted Margaret down from the mare. “Kartauk?”

  “I’m not sure.” Margaret leaned against the saddle and closed her eyes. “He may have been following Ian’s chair. I saw a horse …”

  “Come and sit down.” Jane slid her arm around Margaret’s waist and led her toward her blanket near the campfire. “Get her coffee, Ruel.”

  Ruel turned and walked toward the pot hanging above the embers.

  Margaret collapsed on the blanket. “I think Kartauk …” She wrapped her arms around herself to still her trembling. “I believe he meant … to stay.”

  “Why would he do that?” Jane asked.

  “Because he’s a foolish man who thinks only he knows the proper thing to do.” In spite of the tart words, tears were running down her cheeks. “He should have given me the choice to—” She stopped and wiped her damp cheeks with the back of her hand. “But no, he’d rather stay and be killed by that fiend. He was always too obstinate for his—” Her voice broke and she was forced to stop.

  “Even if he did stay, that doesn’t mean he’s dead.” Ruel thrust the metal cup into her hand. “Kartauk’s a clever man and Abdar wanted him alive.”

  “For how long?” Margaret asked fiercely. “He told me about that monster. Kartauk won’t give Abdar what he wants, and when he refuses, he’ll die.”

  “You said he might have followed Ian,” Jane reminded her gently. “You don’t know that he stayed.”

  “That’s right.” Margaret took a deep breath. “There’s still hope, isn’t there? I’m behaving very foolishly.” She sat up straighter. “Kartauk said to tell you that Abdar’s force were foot soldiers, armed with English rifles, and he did not believe there would be reinforcements.”

  “With two hundred armed men they probably think he won’t need them,” Ruel said grimly. “Since I have no army at all.” He jumped to his feet. “But he’s wrong, damn him.”

  “What do we do?” Jane asked.

  “You and Margaret move this camp across the river. It will be a better defensive position. If anything happens and I don’t return or send you word, cut the hanging bridge and head for the Cinnidan village.” He moved toward his horse. “I’m going to Medford’s camp and make sure Ian and Kartauk made it safely.”

  “And if they didn’t?” Margaret asked unevenly.

  Ruel glanced at her. “Then I go after them.”

  “Even if it’s only Kartauk?”

  He frowned. “Of course. Kartauk’s here because I brought him to Cinnidar. Did you expect me to say anything else?”

  “I suppose not,” she said, relieved.

  “What about Dilam and Li Sung?” Jane asked suddenly. “Did you stop at their camp, Margaret?”

  She shook her head. “I passed it, of course, but I didn’t stop.” She wearily rubbed her temple. “Elephants … I never saw so many elephants.”

  Jane turned to Ruel. “Surely Dilam could help.”

  “And risk killing her people? Not likely.”

  “I think you may be wrong. She said something the first night I met her … I’ll go to their camp and talk to her.”

  “I want you across the river,” Ruel said.

  “After I talk to Dilam.” She got to her feet. “You stay here and rest, Margaret.”

  “I’m going with Ruel,” Margaret said. “I’ll need another horse, the mare is exhausted.”

  “Not only the horse,” Jane said, gazing at Margaret’s white, strained face. She did not attempt to dissuade her. Ian might still be in jeopardy, and she knew she would not be able to rest either if she thought Ruel was in danger. Then the absurdity of that thought hit home to her.

  Dear God, Ruel was in danger. He might be riding right toward Abdar’s forces. She wanted to scream, to tell him to stay, to tell him they could run away, lose themselves in the jungle until the danger passed. “Ruel!”

  He turned to look at her.

  She couldn’t stop him. Cinnidar was his home. These were now his people.

  “Be careful,” she whispered.

  He smiled at her. “And you.”

  The smile was brilliant, loving, its light banishing the grimness from his expression. She felt warmed, comforted, suddenly flooded with confidence. Together they could get through this. She stood up. “Finish your coffee, Margaret. I’ll go saddle Bedelia and a fresh horse for you.”

  • • •

  “It is bad,” Dilam said soberly after Jane had stopped talking. Then, more firmly, “It must not happen.” She turned to Li Sung. “We must stop them. I will not have the Savitsars back on my island.”

  “I’m surprised you include me.” Li Sung lifted his brows. “Can you women not do without the help of lowly males in this endeavor?”

  Dilam grinned. “I told you men were fine warriors. It is now time for you to prove yourself.”

  “I do not have to prove myself to you.”

  Dilam’s smile faded. “No, you do not. I know what you are.”

  Jane looked from one to the other. The exchange between them held no sharpness, only a gentle raillery and amused understanding. It was clear that the elephant was not the only one who had won over Li Sung since this clearing operation had started.

  “We need your help but we don’t want to endanger your people, Dilam.” She added, “Abdar’s men have rifles.”

  “You told me.” Dilam frowned. “But we know the island. That is also
a weapon. Li Sung tells me this Abdar is even worse than the Savitsar who came before. I will not have such horrors visited upon our people again.”

  “It will not happen.” Li Sung smiled into her eyes. “Did you know that in my language there are two characters for the word crisis? One means danger, the other means opportunity. We need only to heed the danger and seize the opportunity.” He turned to Jane. “You say Ruel wants the camp moved across the river?”

  She nodded.

  “Then we will do it.” He said to Dilam, “Perhaps you will have the kindness to go to your village and obtain several more worthless males to fight your battles?”

  “I might be able to find a few capable of performing the task,” Dilam said as she rose to her feet. “What of the elephants?”

  Jane had forgotten about the elephants. There were so many things to think about, so many dangers to face. “Abdar hates elephants. To keep them safe, you’ll have to drive them east across the river and back into the jungle.”

  Li Sung nodded. “It can be done. Dilam and I will start them across the river before she goes to the village.”

  Jane stood up. “Then let’s get to it.”

  uel arrived at the new encampment across the river near noon the next day. As soon as he stepped out of the canoe, Jane knew the news was bad. His face was drained of color and held the same strain and emptiness it had reflected when he had looked down at the ruins of the train tracks at Lanpur Gorge.

  “What is it?” she whispered.

  “He’s dead,” he said jerkily.

  “Who? Kartauk?”

  “Ian.” He gazed straight ahead. “Kartauk was brought into Medford’s camp unconscious. Tamar struck him on the head on orders from Ian. He knew someone had to delay Abdar or they’d all be caught. Ian decided it should be him.”

  “Oh no!” Overpowering sadness swept through her. It wasn’t fair. Ian—gentle, sweet Ian, who had been robbed of so much. “You’re sure?”

  “Abdar was kind enough to send proof. Ian’s death mask.”

  “His what?”

  “Kartauk says he collects the damn things. Abdar sent Tamar with Ian’s mask.” He added jerkily, “With a warning to me not to resist him.”

  “You saw it?” she asked, sick.

  He shook his head. “Margaret wouldn’t let us open the box. She gave it to Medford to keep. Kartauk had told her what the masks looked like.” His lips thinned into a pinched line. “Abdar never chose an easy death for any of his victims.”

  “If you didn’t actually see the mask, then maybe it’s a trick. Maybe Ian is still alive.”

  “Goddammit, he’s not alive!” Ruel exploded harshly. “Tamar saw the mask as it was put in the box.” He added, “And he saw Ian’s body in the same room.”

  Her last hope fled and she drew a deep, shaky breath. “How is Margaret?”

  “Sick, numb, angry.”

  Her eyes lifted to his face. “And how are you?”

  “Sick, but I’m not numb.” His gaze shifted to her face. “I’m going to butcher the son of a bitch.”

  She shivered as she saw the cold savagery in his expression. Then she thought of Ian and felt a surge of the same cold anger. “How?”

  “I have a few ideas. Where’s Li Sung?”

  She nodded across the clearing, where Li Sung was talking to a Cinnidan. “He sent Dilam to her village to bring back their warriors. They should be here soon.”

  “Good. We’re going to need them. Medford has broken camp but he’s waiting until he sees Abdar’s forces start down the canyon trail before he retreats. His men don’t have more than twenty rifles among them.”

  “And we have twelve.” Jane shrugged. “But the Cinnidans wouldn’t know how to use them if we had them.”

  “After we have both Dilam’s and Medford’s people on this side of the river, we’ll burn the hanging bridge.”

  She nodded. “It will take time for Abdar to build rafts for that size force, and we may need that time. How long do we have, do you think?”

  “I have no idea. I don’t even know why Abdar didn’t follow Margaret and Kartauk immediately. Kartauk told me once he wasn’t sane. We’ll have to take advantage of his lunacy in any way we can.”

  “Li Sung and I have been constructing brush barriers all along the shore. We’re out of range of their rifles from across the river, but we’ll need protection so they can’t pick us off once they start across.”

  “Good idea.” His voice was abstracted as he started across the clearing toward Li Sung. He walked stiffly, carefully, as if he were made of glass and was afraid he would shatter and fly apart.

  She wanted to be with him, to comfort him, to ease the aching rawness of the pain she sensed. She started to follow him and then stopped. She could feel the tears brimming and knew she would be no help to him now. They would both be better off keeping busy at their own tasks. She turned back and walked toward the barriers.

  “I don’t like it,” Li Sung said. “It is too dangerous.”

  “It’s the only way.” Ruel looked him in the eye. “You’re worried about losing what you’ve found here. Well, it could all be gone in a month if Abdar takes Cinnidar. He’s not going to have any mercy on either the Cinnidans or those elephants you love so much.”

  “I know this,” Li Sung said. “But I do not like …” He shook his head. “And it is not only my own loss I worry about. There is Jane and you.”

  “Me?” Ruel smiled in mirth. “I’m touched by your concern.”

  “I am concerned.” Li Sung smiled gently. “Jane has great dreams that could be toppled. And you are in pain.”

  Ruel flinched. “I assure you the pain will go away when I’ve killed Abdar.” “Will it?”

  “Try me and see. Help me.”

  “I will think on it.” Li Sung wrinkled his nose. “It is true my natural aversion might be influencing my judgment in this instance.”

  “My judgment isn’t impaired. This will work if we do it right.” Ruel turned away. “And we’ll do it right.”

  “Dilam’s crossing the river.” Jane had come to stand beside them. “I counted about seventy warriors with her.”

  “Then you’ll have to make a decision soon,” Ruel told Li Sung. “Abdar’s not going to give us much more time.”

  “When Dilam comes we will discuss it.” Li Sung held up his hand as Ruel opened his lips to protest. “I will need her help if I decide your plan is wise.”

  Darkness fell and Medford still had not come. When he failed to arrive by midnight, guards were posted and they went to their blankets to rest.

  To rest but not to sleep, Jane thought wearily. She felt too worried and afraid to let go of awareness. She turned on her side to look at Ruel across the campfire. He was not sleeping either. He lay on his back, every muscle rigid, staring into the darkness, and she was again reminded of brittle crystal, ready to explode … or be shattered. He had barely spoken a word to any of them all evening, withdrawing into himself, withdrawing into his anger and sorrow. She should let him have his solitude. If he had wanted her help, he would have asked for it.

  What was she thinking? Ruel had difficulty admitting he needed anything or anyone.

  She threw aside the blanket, jumped to her feet, and moved around the fire.

  She knelt beside Ruel and lifted his blanket. “Move over.”

  He didn’t look at her. “No.”

  She lay down beside him.

  “Go away. I don’t want you here.”

  “Too bad. I’m staying.” She drew the blanket around her. She lay there, not touching him, sensing his stiffness and resistance.

  “I knew you’d come,” he said harshly. “It was bound to happen. You have to have something to mother. Well, I’m not a young boy with a crushed leg or a damn baby elephant. I don’t need you. I don’t need anyone.”

  “I didn’t say you did.” She slid her arms around his taut, strained body. “I’m the one who needs you. I’m frightened of tomorrow, and I feel
as if I have this wound inside that won’t stop bleeding.”

  He was silent a moment. “You do?”

  She nodded. “It would help if you would hold me. I don’t think I’d feel so alone.”

  He didn’t respond for a moment, and then his arms slowly slid around her. “You’re not alone.”

  “Neither are you,” she whispered. “If you want me, I’ll always be here.”

  He stiffened even more. “Pity?”

  “Love.”

  “I find it strange you find it necessary to make this declaration now.”

  “You once said you knew I loved you.”

  “I also know you have a nature soft as mush.”

  “Very well, there’s pity too.”

  He swore beneath his breath.

  “There’s nothing wrong with pity, Ruel.”

  “The hell there isn’t.”

  “Blast it, I won’t say I’m sorry for giving you pity. When I was ill, didn’t you pity me? When Zabrie hurt Li Sung, didn’t you want to help him?” Her arms tightened around him. “Now shut up and go to sleep.”

  “I’m not tired.”

  “Then talk to me.” She paused. “Talk to me about Ian.”

  She could feel the ripple of shock that went through him. “There’s nothing to say. He’s dead.”

  “Then we’re just going to forget him?”

  “Of course I’m not going to forget him.” He spoke through his teeth. “I’m going to kill Abdar.”

  “And me? Are you going to kill me too? It would never have happened if Ian hadn’t been crippled. He would have been able to escape.”

  “Be quiet,” he said hoarsely. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  “A month ago you would have blamed me.”

  “I don’t want to talk about this.”

  “And I won’t be silent about it. Say it. It’s my fault.”

  “It’s not your fault.” He suddenly exploded. “It’s mine.”

  She looked at him, startled. “What?”

  “It’s always been my fault. I blamed you, but I guess I always knew I was the one responsible. Ian would never have been in Kasanpore if it hadn’t been for me.”

  “But he followed you from Scotland. You didn’t even want him there.”