Tiger's Quest

by Colleen Houck

  Nilima came into the library to bring us lemon waters. He thanked her and continued, “Three hundred years after the takeover, Altan Khan built a monastery and invited Buddhist monks to teach the people. Buddhist ideology became widespread, and by the early 1600s, virtually all of the Mongols had become Buddhist. A man named Batu Khan, another descendant of Genghis Khan, who was in charge of the Mongol armies, was sent by the Dalai Lama to help Ren’s grandfather when he asked for aid.”

  I sipped my lemon water. “Then what happened? They won, right?”

  “Indeed. The combined Mongol armies in addition to King Tarak’s military were able to defeat the upstarts. Tarak and Batu Khan were of the same age. They became friends. Tarak, in gratitude, offered precious jewels and gold to take back to Tibet, and Batu Khan offered his young daughter to be married to Tarak’s son when the time was right. Ren’s father, Rajaram, would have been around ten years old at the time, and his mother had just been born.”

  “So, Ren’s mother is related to Genghis Khan?”

  “I haven’t researched the genealogy, but one must assume there is some relation.”

  I sat back in my chair shocked. “What was his mother’s name?”

  “Deschen.”

  “What did she look like?”

  “She looked a lot like Ren. She had the same blue eyes, and her hair was long and dark. She was very beautiful. When it was time for the marriage to take place, Batu Khan himself brought his daughter to meet with Tarak and stayed to oversee the wedding. Rajaram was never even allowed to see his bride until they were married.”

  “Did they have a Hindu or a Buddhist wedding?”

  “I believe it was a combination of the two. In a Hindu wedding, there is typically an engagement ceremony, a feast with gifts of jewelry or clothing, and then a wedding in which the groom gives the bride a mangalsultra, or marriage necklace, that she wears for the rest of her life. The whole process takes about a week. By comparison, a Buddhist wedding is a personal celebration, not a religious one. Only a few people are invited. Candles and incense are burned, and flowers are offered at a shrine. There are no monks, priests, or assigned marriage vows. I imagine Rajaram and Deschen probably followed the customs of a Hindu wedding, and perhaps also added offerings to the Buddha.”

  “How long did it take for them to realize they loved each other?”

  “That is a question I cannot answer, though I can tell you that their love and respect for each other was truly unique. When I knew them, they were very much in love, and King Rajaram often consulted with his wife on important matters of state, which was highly irregular at the time. They raised their sons to be open-minded and accepting of other cultures and ideas. They were good people and very wise leaders. I miss them. Did Ren speak of them?”

  “He told me you watched over them for him until they died.”

  “That is true.” Mr. Kadam’s eyes became moist, and he seemed to fix his gaze on something I couldn’t see. “I held Deschen when King Rajaram passed out of this world and then later, held her hand when she closed her eyes forever.” He cleared his throat, “That’s when she entrusted me with the care of her most precious possessions—her sons.”

  “And you have done more for them than any mother could ever ask. You are a truly wonderful man. A father to them. Ren told me he could never repay you for all you’ve done for him.”

  Mr. Kadam shifted uncomfortably. “That is neither here nor there. He does not need to repay me for what I gave him freely.”

  “And that is exactly what makes you so special.”

  Mr. Kadam smiled and stood to refill my water glass, probably to deflect attention from himself. I changed the subject.

  “Did Ren and Kishan’s parents ever know they were changed into tigers?”

  “As you know, I was the king’s military advisor. As such, I was put in charge of the armies. When Ren and Kishan were placed under the spell, they tried to sneak back into the palace at night as tigers. There was no way they could have gotten in to see their parents because Rajaram and Deschen were too well guarded, and Ren and Kishan would have been killed on sight. Even tigers as rare as they were would not have been allowed to enter the palace grounds. Instead, they came to me. I had a small house near the palace so I could be summoned at any time.”

  “What did you do when you saw them?”

  “They scratched at my door. You can imagine my surprise when I opened the door to find a black and a white tiger sitting there staring at me. At first, I grabbed my sword. Military instinct is strong, but they didn’t react to me. I lifted my sword above my head ready to strike, but they both sat there calmly, watching, waiting. For a time, I thought I was dreaming. Several minutes passed. I opened my door wider and moved back, keeping my sword at the ready. They entered my house and sat on my rug.

  “We watched each other for hours. When I was summoned to attend training, I begged off, telling the servant that I felt ill. I sat in my chair all day and watched the tigers. They seemed to be waiting for something. When evening came, I prepared a meal and offered meat to the animals. They both ate and then lay down to sleep. I stayed awake all night, watching them. I had trained my body to go several days without sleep, so I remained vigilant, though they slept as harmless as kittens.”

  I sipped my lemon water. “Then what happened?”

  “Early in the morning, just before the sun came up, something changed. The white tiger shifted and changed into Prince Dhiren; the black one followed suit and became Kishan. Ren quickly explained what had happened to them, and I immediately requested audience with their parents. I explained that it was imperative that Rajaram and Deschen accompany me to my home without guards. Their private guard took a lot of convincing, and only the king’s absolute trust in me led him to comply with my wish.

  “I led them back to my home. When I opened the door, Deschen let out a small scream when she saw the tigers. Rajaram moved in front of his wife to protect her. He was very upset with me. I begged them to enter and told them the tigers meant them no harm.

  “After I’d finally convinced them to close the door, the two brothers rose to stand before their parents as men. They had very little time left and quickly changed back and allowed me to relate the story. The five of us stayed in counsel all day in my little home. Runners came to say that a vast army led by Lokesh was approaching and that he had already destroyed several villages and was on his way to the palace.”

  “What did you all decide to do?”

  “Rajaram wanted to destroy Lokesh, but Deschen held him back, reminding him that Lokesh may be the only way to save the boys. They gave me a special charge: to take the boys and leave. Deschen couldn’t bear to part with her sons, so arrangements were made for her to come with me under the pretense that she would be visiting her homeland.

  “In reality, we snuck away to a small summer home near the waterfall where you found Kishan. Despite Rajaram’s best efforts, he couldn’t capture Lokesh. The armies were pushed back for a while, but Lokesh seemed to gather strength while Rajaram lost it. A few years passed. Without his wife and sons, Rajaram no longer had the will to be the king. Deschen also had become despondent. There seemed to be no hope for her sons, and her beloved husband was far away, taking care of the empire.

  “I sent a missive to Rajaram explaining that Deschen was suffering. Reluctantly, he stepped down from the throne and turned over the affairs of the kingdom to a quorum of military advisors. He had told his people the false story of Ren and Kishan’s deaths and explained that his wife had fled to China to find solace. He said that he needed to leave for a time to bring her back. He never returned. He joined us in the wilderness, bringing along some of their wealth and most precious things so that the boys would be able to keep their inheritance.”

  I asked, “Is that when Deschen died?”

  “No. Actually, Deschen and Rajaram lived several more years. Reunited, they were happy and cherished every minute they had with the boys. It soon became obvious
that Ren and Kishan weren’t aging. I became the caretaker for the family. I was the intermediary between them and the outside world. The boys hunted and brought us food, and Deschen gardened and grew vegetables. I often ventured into town to purchase items and to listen to news.

  “After several years, Ren’s father became ill with what I now suspect was nephritis, or kidney disease. We heard that Lokesh was still fighting with the military, but that the Mujulaain people continued to fight back. Great legends were being told about the royal family. They had passed on into myth. The story I told you when I met you at the circus is the story as it is told today.

  “Ren eventually asked me to wear his amulet. At the time, we didn’t know what it would do to me. We only knew that it was powerful and important. He was afraid that if a hunter caught him it would be gone forever. Perhaps it was a premonition because he was captured soon after that.

  “Kishan tracked him, and I learned that he had been sold to a collector in another part of the country. I returned disheartened. Ren’s capture was the final blow to his father, and he died within the week. Deschen lapsed into deep despair and stopped eating. Despite Kishan’s and my best efforts, she too, died, not a month after her husband.

  “Kishan would not be consoled after his mother’s death, and he often stayed in the forest. A few months later, I told him that it was time. I began my search for Ren. He told me to take the money and jewels. To take whatever I needed to find him. I took some, leaving the most precious family heirlooms there for Kishan to watch over, and began my quest.

  “As you know, I was not able to rescue Ren. I studied every myth and story about tigers and about the amulets that I could find. Over the years, I invested their money, and it grew. I began with the spice trade and then moved on, buying and selling companies until the boys became wealthy.

  “During those years, I married and had a family. After I left them, I followed Ren from place to place and spent many hours in research. For decades I searched for Lokesh and a way to break the curse. Lokesh, after failing to hold the Mujulaain Empire, mysteriously disappeared and never resurfaced, though I suspected he was still alive, like I was. That leads us to you, and you know the rest of the story.”

  “So, if Ren and Kishan lived in the jungle with their parents, how come they never made up?”

  “They tolerated each other for their parents’ sake, but they tried to avoid becoming men at the same time. In fact, I never saw them as men together again until you came along. It was a tremendous breakthrough to get Kishan to return and be a part of the family again.”

  “Well, Ren doesn’t exactly make it easy on him. It’s weird. I get the sense that they respect and even love each other, but they just can’t let the old wounds heal.”

  “You have gone a long way toward healing all of us, Miss Kelsey. Rajaram would have been delighted by you, and Deschen would have wept at your feet for giving her sons’ lives back. Don’t let yourself doubt for a moment that you are right for this family or right for Ren.”

  My mangled heart thumped hollowly in my chest. Even thinking about him hurt, but my hands fisted in determination.

  “So what should we start with? Research or sword-fighting?”

  “Are you able to begin with some physical training?”

  “Yes.”

  “Alright, get your things put away and then join me in the gym downstairs in half an hour.”

  “I will. And, Mr. Kadam? It’s nice to be home.”

  He smiled at me, winked, and then set off for his room.

  I headed upstairs and found that all the precious things I’d shipped were safe and sound. My ribbon box was in the bathroom. My books and journals had been moved to a library shelf along with newly framed pictures of my family and a vase of fresh pink tiger lilies. My grandmother’s quilt rested on the foot of my bed, and my stuffed white tiger sat among the mound of plum-colored pillows.

  I unzipped my bag and pulled out Fanindra, apologizing for leaving her out of the battle in the forest. We would be better prepared next time. I set her on the new library shelf on top of a round, silk-covered pillow.

  I quickly changed into my wushu clothes and headed downstairs to meet Mr. Kadam. Kishan heard me bustling around and trotted down the stairs behind me. He curled up in a corner of the room on the gym mat, put his head on his paws, and watched sleepily.

  Mr. Kadam was already there. The wall was flipped open to showcase his collection of swords. He walked over with two wooden sticks.

  “These are called shinais and are used in the practice of kendo, which is the Japanese form of fencing. Use these to practice forms before moving on to the steel weapons. Grip it with both hands. Reach out as if you are shaking hands with someone, then wrap your three bottom fingers around the weapon and leave your thumb and forefinger loose.”

  I tried to follow his instructions, and before I knew it, Mr. Kadam was moving onto the next step.

  “For advancing, walk heel-step, heel-step. For retreating, back up ball-step. This way you are always ready and won’t distribute your weight wrong.”

  “Like this?”

  “Yes. Very good, Miss Kelsey.”

  “Now lunge. When someone attacks, swing this leg back, move your body out of the way, and bring your sword up to defend yourself, like this. If someone comes from the other side, move back this way.”

  This was complicated. My arms already hurt, and the footwork was hard to remember.

  He continued, “Eventually, we’ll move on to heavier swords to build up your arms and shoulders, but for now, the footwork is what I want you to practice.”

  Mr. Kadam had me do footwork drills for an hour while he gave me tips. I began to move in a rhythm and crossed the floor back and forth doing lunges, advance-retreats, and deflecting moves. While I worked, Mr. Kadam watched, correcting my form from time to time and citing sword fighting instructions.

  “Draw your sword before you engage an opponent. It takes too much time to do it once you’re in a fight. And make sure your feet always stay grounded and balanced.

  “Don’t overextend yourself! Keep your elbows bent and close to your body.

  “Fight to win. Search for weaknesses and exploit them. Don’t be afraid to use other techniques if they will help you, like lightning power, for example.

  “It’s better to get out of the way than to block someone. Blocking saps your strength; moving out of the way requires less energy.

  “Know the length of your sword and estimate the length of your opponent’s weapon. Then, maintain a distance at which he cannot easily reach you.

  “Though it’s good to practice with bigger, heavier swords, lighter swords can do just as much damage. The big ones tire you out faster in a fight.”

  By the time I was done, I was sweaty and sore. I’d been holding the shinai up the whole time I was practicing footwork. And, even though it was lightweight, my shoulders were burning.

  Mr. Kadam encouraged me to work on the footwork for an hour every day and said that he would teach me more tomorrow.

  Kishan changed to a man after I’d sufficiently rested. He practiced wushu kicks and sweeps with me for another two hours. By the time I climbed the stairs to my room, I was exhausted. A hot dinner was left under a warming cover in my room, but I decided to shower first.

  Clean and ready for bed, I lifted the lid and found grilled chicken and vegetables. There was also a note from Mr. Kadam inviting me to help with research in the library the next morning. I finished my dinner and walked over to Ren’s room.

  It was so different from the first time I’d entered his room. A thick carpet covered the floor. Books sat on top of the dresser, including a couple of the first-edition Dr. Seuss books that he’d mentioned buying. A paperback copy of Romeo and Juliet in Hindi was dog-eared and worn. A state-of-the-art CD player was set up in the corner with several CDs, and a laptop and writing materials sat on his desk.

  I found his Valentine’s present, his copy of The Count of Monte Cristo
, and tucked it under my arm. He must have sent it in the package with my special things. Knowing he treasured it made me smile. One of my old hair ribbons was tied around rolled up parchment. I untied the ribbon and found several poems written by Ren in a language I couldn’t read. Rolling up the pages and retying them, I decided to try to translate them.

  I opened his closet. The last time I was here it had been empty, but now it was full of designer clothes. Most of them had never been worn. I found a blue sweatshirt that was similar to the one he’d worn to the beach. It smelled like him—waterfalls and sandalwood trees. I threw it over my arm.

  When I returned to my room, I set the parchment on my desk and climbed into bed. I had just snuggled under my blanket with the stuffed white tiger and the sweatshirt when I heard a knock at my door.

  “Can I come in, Kelsey? It’s Kishan.”

  “Sure.”

  Kishan stuck his head in the door. “I just wanted to say goodnight.”

  “Okay, goodnight.”

  Spying my white tiger, he came in closer to inspect it. He grinned lopsidedly and flicked the tiger on the nose.

  “Hey! Leave him alone.”

  “Wonder what he thought of that.”

  “If you must know, he was flattered.”

  He smiled for a moment and then grew serious. “We’ll find him, Kells. I promise.”

  I nodded.

  “Well, goodnight, bilauta.”

  I propped myself up on my elbow. “What does that mean, Kishan? You never told me.”

  “It means ‘kitten.’ I figured if we are the cats, you’ve got to be the kitten.”

  “Hmm, well, don’t say it around Ren anymore. It makes him mad.”

  He grinned. “Why do you think I do it? See you in the morning.” He turned off the light and closed the door.