Tiger's Promise (4 page)

“Where?”

“The one talking with Vikram Pillai,” I murmured quietly.

“Oh, that’s the younger Rajaram son.”

“Rajaram?” I prompted.

“Yes. His brother is heir to the throne so he wouldn’t be a good match for you, if
that is what you’re thinking. I am not surprised you asked about him though. He is
young, and I would think a girl such as yourself would find him attractive.”

I quickly patted the Mahabalipuram king’s arm and reassured him. “Not at all. I simply
haven’t been introduced to him yet.”

“It is unlikely he will wed before his brother. Perhaps he is here to negotiate a
match in his stead.”

“It has not come up. Besides, being as young as I am, it might behoove me to be matched
with someone with more experience. An older man can help me navigate the troubled
waters of youth. Wouldn’t you agree?”

He laughed, pleased with my reference to his city, and introduced me to some other
men he considered allies.

Finally, the festivities were concluded, and those staying at the palace were escorted
to their various chambers to take their rest. Hajari and I trailed behind a servant
girl who led us down a series of long halls. It was late and the full moon cast its
mellow light over us as we walked. Every few feet, an open archway allowed the soft
night breezes to ruffle my skirts.

When we arrived at an elaborately carved double door, the servant bowed and opened
it, indicating I should enter. Hajari narrowed his eyes in warning but said nothing.
After the doors closed behind me, shutting out the sight of my father’s man, I breathed
a sigh of relief and followed the servant.

She led me to a spacious chamber with a huge bed. A bath had been drawn, and she stayed
long enough to help me. A sleeping gown had been left for me, and after I was made
comfortable, the servant departed. I was alone. Truly alone. I didn’t know what would
happen to me when the sun came up the next morning, but for the moment, I was out
of danger.

Unable to sleep though I was exhausted, I rose from my bed and walked out to the balcony.
The moon had sunk farther, but I guessed only an hour had passed since I retired.
The soft breeze carried the scent of jasmine, and I heard the unmistakable sound of
water. A series of steps led upward from my balcony, and I suddenly realized that
the king’s hanging garden might be just a few steps away.

Glancing around, I willed myself invisible and, with the moon lighting my way, stepped,
hidden, into the night.

Three

Following the sound of the water, I crept silently up the stairs. Guards were posted
on the parapets, but they didn’t even glance in my direction. The grit under my feet
and the breeze on my bare skin made me feel alive. My pulse quickened as I ascended
to the level of the guards. With a little exploration, I found another set of stairs
not too far from where the first set ended. On the side of the stairwell, a small
waterfall tumbled down the wall from overhead. I knew it must be coming from the hanging
garden so I climbed higher.

Now three levels above the sleeping chamber I’d been assigned to, I paused at a wide
balcony and looked out over the moonlit city. Most of the lamps had been snuffed out
for the evening, but there was enough light remaining from torches, fires, and candles
around the buildings in the city that the dark structures below looked like they were
lit with fireflies. As beautiful a view as it was, I was after something else.

Quietly making my way around the corridor, I found no other set of stairs. Instead
there were several doors. Nervous about testing them, I placed my hand on each and
listened quietly before opening them. The first had stairs leading down. The second
held various weapons—arrows, bows, shields, and spears. The third door was the heaviest
and opened with a loud creak. I froze, hoping no one heard.

When there was no telltale sign of heavy boots headed my way, I slipped inside the
darkened doorway and found another set of stairs going up. I hesitated, thinking I
might lose my way back, but my desire to see the garden pulled me forward, and I went
up one step and another until I emerged at the end of a tunnel. Moonlight and the
smell of water and green living things beckoned me forward.

I rushed ahead and stepped through an open archway into paradise. During the day,
the gardens must have been breathtaking, but at night, lit only by stars and moonbeams,
the garden was magical. Each dark alcove whispered of secrets waiting for me to discover
them.

Rumors were that the king had wooed his late bride on the manicured paths while walking
among the murmuring foliage. It was easy to picture a courting couple wandering beneath
the trees, taking advantage of the enchanting concealment they offered.

Moving deeper into the garden, I noted the thick stone pillars supported tier after
tier of greenery that rose above me in steps like a theater. On the left was a multi-leveled
terrace threaded through with delicate little vines. On the right was a gallery of
living art with arched doorways leading down to other levels.

On each echelon, there were carved statues, trickling fountains, towers of hanging
plants, and even living sculptures made of greenery. Though there were no torches
to offer light, the rays of the moon penetrated the leafy canopy well enough that
I could notice nearly every detail.

A stone walkway appeared to circumnavigate the entire garden. Around it was recently
turned soil, dark and nutrient-rich. Crouching down, I pressed my hand into the soft
stuff. I couldn’t find the stone floor that would support such a weight, but judging
from the size of the trees, the largest of which had trunks wider than I was tall,
the ceiling holding the garden must be very thick indeed, perhaps twenty feet or more.

In the center of the garden was a massive fountain of such magnificence I spent the
better part of an hour running my hands over the carved figures and through the water.
Curious, I followed the path of the streams. It appeared that a series of aqueducts
brought water to the roof of the citadel using dozens of cisterns that carried the
water up from the river.

All the levels were built at a slight angle, which allowed the water to flow downhill,
irrigating the entire garden. What wasn’t used in the garden was directed back to
the river when it spilled over the side of the building in a waterfall. The design
was genius.

Huge shade trees soared high above the building walls, and it gave me the sense of
being at the top of a very great mountain. I examined the tender new growth of tiny
plants wet with evening dew, plucked a tiny budding flower and tucked it behind my
ear, and admired a section of new plantings the garden cultivator had just put in.

The warm night breeze lifted the leaves on the trees, making them dance and sigh as
if they were alive. The sound of it teased my senses. I walked through a multi-level
maze only to emerge in a grove of perfect fruit trees full of ripening spheres of
all descriptions.

Beyond that was a small, evergreen meadow—the lush grass a perfect place for taking
a picnic lunch. How romantic it would be to dine there under the shadow of a tree
with the murmuring of the fountain and the view of the city. I lay on the grass with
my hands behind my head and stared up at the countless constellations filling the
night sky, thinking that if I was incredibly lucky, I might be soon looking at the
same view from the deck of a ship taking me and Isha to another land.

Wanting to explore more, I left the soft blades of grass and continued on. Flowers
seemed to spring from every spare patch of ground. I plucked an orange marigold and
tossed it into the stream of water, laughing softly as I followed it. The small flower
danced and bobbed until I came to the edge of the garden where it tumbled over the
wall and disappeared.

This part of the garden was on level with the circuit wall, and I had a clear view
of the citadel’s battlements and the soldiers who stood on guard. Not wanting to leave
but knowing I should make my way back to my bed, I slowly wound up the levels, taking
in every sight, scent, and sound. Reluctant to continue on, I stopped at the central
fountain once again and discovered a water plant I’d never seen before.

It looked like a lotus blossom, but instead of the common pink or white color, the
flower had lavender hues. It was the loveliest thing I’d ever seen. Tempted to pluck
it from the water yet knowing if my father found it in my room he’d know what I’d
been up to, I instead examined it from all angles, committing it to memory.

So intent was I in my study that I didn’t hear footsteps until the person approaching
was almost directly behind me. I froze and looked down at my arm, letting out a little
sigh of relief that I was still invisible. Still, the person came closer and only
stopped just short of running into me. Biting my lip, I took a careful step away,
wincing as my foot knocked a small pebble.

Quickly looking up, I found myself staring into the golden eyes of the man I’d noticed
earlier at the party, the one seemingly disinterested in the king’s announcement regarding
my eligibility for marriage. His eyes narrowed as he looked down at the place where
the small stone had rolled, and then he scanned the trees surrounding us. After a
moment, he let out a small sigh and placed both hands on the rim of the fountain.

He stared into the water as if he were trying to divine his future and didn’t seem
to like what he saw. Then he noticed the purple flower I’d recently dropped, scooped
it up into his hands, and brought it to his face. He inhaled deeply and sighed. I
found the scent of the man standing next to me more intoxicating than that of the
flower. Unlike the other men downstairs who carried with them the scent of the alcohol
they had drunk or the garlic they had eaten, this man smelled of musky sandalwood
and the scent of sweet grass warmed by the sun.

Satisfied, he gently dropped the water flower back down into the fountain, where it
turned in a lazy circle before floating back. It was as if there was something magnetic
about the man that drew the exceptional blossom toward him. Suddenly, I realized that
I, too, had come dangerously close to touching him.

Leaning back at an awkward angle, so he wouldn’t sense me, I wondered how long he
would be standing in my very personal space. When he didn’t immediately move, I studied
him in much the same way as I did the garden. The fact that he was handsome was obvious,
but I’d been around handsome men before and had always remained largely unaffected.
A handsome man could be just as cruel as an ugly one. I’d had far too many uncomfortable
experiences with men to simply trust one based on his appearance.

That he was an emperor’s son meant he was powerful, but he didn’t wear his power in
an obvious way like my father did. That fact made me like him more. His clothing was
well made but didn’t boast the typical trappings that declared to everyone that a
rich man wore them. His body was that of a warrior, not a king, which likely meant
his father was still alive and, what was more, it meant that he was brave—a man who
stood alongside his soldiers rather than behind them.

His features were not typical of the men I’d come across before. The shape of his
face and mouth seemed different somehow, and his golden eyes, with little streaks
of rust the color of newly made henna ink, were so uncommon as to be remarkable. He
was as exotic and rare as the flower I’d just come across—a bewitching, transfixing
contradiction of a man.

He was a soldier and yet he seemed to have an appreciation for things of beauty. An
heir to a large empire and yet here he was alone, without a bodyguard or an entourage.
No one was about to scrape at his feet or offer obeisance. Here was an entitled, attractive
prince who seemingly cared nothing for parties, diplomacy, or eligible females. And
where most men would strike the help for being careless, he was not only kind but
assisted the servant—a gesture few men I knew would make, especially for one they
considered beneath their station.

As I watched him twitch his fingers above the koi pond, I smiled and had to stop myself
from laughing at the hungry little fish lifting their heads above water and making
supplicating shapes with their mouths. They were hungry and sought the sustenance
they thought he might provide.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t bring you any bread,” he said. “If I knew you were here, I would
have.”

My amusement was replaced by something else, something warm, a feeling I couldn’t
quite describe. Heat colored my cheeks, and I silently pressed my hands against them.
Amazed, I realized I was blushing from just being in his presence. My pulse quickened
as I stared at his face as hungrily as the colorful fish. In fact, I couldn’t seem
to look away from him until I noticed his brow furrow in confusion, and he glanced
in my direction.

“What is it?” he asked. “What ethereal creature have you discovered?”

I looked down at the bobbing school only to cup my mouth in horror when I realized
that the fish had given up on the handsome young man and were now turned in my direction.
They saw through whatever spell it was that made me invisible to others. As their
wide mouths opened and closed and they swam closer, he took a step in my direction.
Just at that moment, a man called out.

“There you are. Thank you for agreeing to see me.”

The young prince stopped; his whole body stiffened as he turned to acknowledge the
newcomer. Stepping into the clearing around the fountain, the man strode confidently
forward, the mask he wore a version of his earlier self. Younger than the wizened
diplomat my father typically preferred—this one he only wore when he met with those
much younger than he was.

It wasn’t different enough that most people would notice. In fact, I appeared to be
the only one who saw my father for what he truly was—a decrepit, skeletal corpse—a
man as decayed on the outside as he was rotted on the inside.
What could he possibly want with this young man?
I wondered. Despite the fact that my every instinct told me to run away as quickly
as possible, another part of me wanted to stay, wanted to stand between the handsome
stranger and my father and protect him as I did Isha.

The young man answered. “Your…
summons
didn’t give me leave to deny your request.”

“And why would you? I assure you that this dialogue will be of vital importance to
the future of both of our kingdoms.” My father smiled in a charming way that rooted
me to the spot where I stood. “Perhaps you will allow me to introduce myself properly.”
He bowed and held out his hand in a gesture of goodwill. “My name is Lokesh.”

The young man ignored the offered hand. “I know who you are.”

“Ah, I can see that my reputation precedes me.”

“Indeed it does. Though I hope it is exaggerated, my impression is that it is not.”

My father clucked his tongue. “Surely a warrior such as yourself knows that a sometimes
admittedly shocking reputation can often serve to benefit its wielder just as much,
if not perhaps more, than a finely made sword?”

Folding his arms across his brawny chest, the stranger answered, “Yes. And I also
know that the type of man willing to allow such a reputation to exist, whether it
is true or not, is a man I would not have at my back.”

Lokesh laughed in response. I’d never heard him laugh before, even facetiously, and
as far as I could tell, his reaction was genuine. For some reason, the stranger’s
answer delighted my father. The nervous feeling I had regarding the safety of the
young man intensified by several degrees.

“How clever. But, then again, I would expect no less of a Rajaram.”

The young man’s eyes narrowed. “I sense that my time here has been wasted. We had
been informed that this meeting would be regarding treaty negotiations. Instead, I
find myself a guest at a women’s garden party where I am forced to watch pompous peacocks
strut around in all their finery as they flatter, preen, and prance around, congratulating
one another on the amount of gold stored in their coffers. The hour grows late, and
as my intention is to leave with the sunrise, I would prefer to retire to my bedchamber
for the few hours remaining until that time. If it is the recent skirmish you wish
to discuss, then I would suggest you get on with it. If not, I will take my leave.”