Tiger Thief (6 page)

“Did you hear that, Manu?” said the guard, turning to his friend. “This little scruff wants to see the Emperor!”

Manu was a young man with a closely trimmed beard. He might have had a kind face once, but now he just looked tired. He glanced down at the circus boy. “What business would
you
have at court?” he asked.

Sharat hesitated. “I’ve had something stolen,” he said.

The guards exchanged a glance.

“Royal audience every other full moon, by appointment only,” Manu told him in a bored voice. “The next one’s in six weeks.”

Sharat stared at him in dismay. “I can’t wait six weeks!” he said.

“You’re going to have to,” snapped the older guard. “Now stop wasting our time.” He used the flat of his sword to shove the boy back across the drawbridge.

Sharat felt annoyed, but he wasn’t about to give up. There were four gates into Shergarh and he was determined to try them all. But it was no good. At the second gate he was almost squeezed in the coils of an iron snake, at the third, the teeth of a monstrous fish threatened to grind him to bits, and finally he was almost burnt to a crisp by the dragon that had allowed the circus to pass through the day before. It was as if the gates themselves knew that he didn’t belong there.

“Get out of here!” snapped a guard at the last gate, as he drove Sharat back across the bridge into the street below.

Helplessly, he stood looking up at the fortress walls. So far his only plan had been to appeal to the Emperor for Emira’s release, but now he was starting to see how hopeless his quest was. After all, he didn’t even know if Emira was alive.

A
s Sharat loitered outside Shergarh wondering what to do next, a sweet smell wafted past him and he noticed that there were food stalls along the road. Suddenly he realised he was hungry. His mouth watering, he went to see what was being sold.

“What’s that?” he asked, pointing at a slab of something white that lay glistening on the table.

“Food.” The reply was curt.

It didn’t look like any kind of food Sharat had seen before, but he took a slice and paid with a piece of his gold.

The coin had a greenish glow. The stall-keeper eyed Sharat suspiciously.

“This is palace gold,” he said. “Where’d you get it?”

“I did some work for the Emperor,” Sharat told him, keeping his voice down.

The merchant grunted in reply. “Who’s got change for palace gold?” he called out to the other stallholders.

Sharat suddenly became the focus of curious looks. He got his change in local money, but the news of his gold had spread. As he hurried off, beggar children surrounded him.

“Money! Money! Money!” they chanted, scrabbling at him with emaciated hands. He handed out all his change, and tried to escape, but a scrawny girl with one blind eye wouldn’t let him go. She tried to grab hold of his bundle.

“I don’t want your stinking coppers. Give me some of that gold!” she hissed, glaring at him sharply through her good eye.

Sharat pulled back. There were too many of them. If he started handing out gold, soon there would be none left. “Go away!” he said, but it was no use, he was surrounded, and the girl with one eye was almost on top of him.

In a panic, he pushed her away and began to run, dropping the food as he fled. With whoops of glee his tormentors set off after him, armed with sticks and rocks.

Sharat felt a stone whistle past his head as he darted through an alleyway and jumped over a broken wall into the derelict gardens that lined the moat, but he was a good runner and one by one the children fell back until soon he was running alone. Quickly, he ducked through the door of a deserted summerhouse, panting for breath as he listened for signs of pursuit, but to his relief everything
was still. He’d lost them.

It was the hottest part of the day, but the summerhouse was shady and Sharat was exhausted after his terrible night. He lay on the floor, trying to cool off by pressing his skin on to the stone. He only meant to rest for a moment but before long he’d fallen asleep.

He woke with a start at the sound of a pebble being kicked nearby.

“What’s that?” he said, jumping to his feet.

He heard stifled laughter, then silence.

Warily, he peered through the door, but whatever had disturbed him was gone. Then, as he looked up at the sky, he realised it was already sunset. He cursed. He’d wasted nearly a whole day.

With renewed determination he looked over the stagnant moat towards the fortress and sized up the sheer walls. They were there to keep out armies of grown men, but that didn’t put him off. He was a circus boy. He’d climbed walls steeper than that just to steal an apple. Looking around to make sure the coast was clear, he bundled his possessions on to his head and slid into the water. To his disgust it was hot and stank of sewage, but he kept his mouth shut and began to swim.

He had only taken a few strokes when he saw a black shadow under the surface and something huge slid past him at breathtaking speed. Then, before he could catch his breath, there was a gobbling sound and the flash of yellow teeth as the creature turned back towards him. Suddenly a fear like Sharat had never felt before clutched
at his guts and he turned tail and swam as fast as he could back to shore.

Hauling himself on to the bank he stared helplessly down at the moat. For a moment the water churned. Then, whatever had been chasing him sank slowly beneath the surface. Frustrated, he picked up a rock and hurled it towards Shergarh. It hit the fortress wall with a crack, and bounced back into the water.

“Oi!” called out a voice nearby. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Sharat barely had time to spin around, when someone caught his arm. He found himself looking up into the face of the young guard, Manu.

“Nothing!” he said quickly. “Washing.”

The guard snorted. “
Nobody
washes in the moat,” he said. “There are
things
in that water.”

Sharat shivered as he glanced back down at the calm surface of the moat. “What
are
they?” he asked.

Manu’s face was grim. “Behamot,” he said. “Demon fish. Be glad they didn’t get you. They can pull a man apart in seconds.” He tightened his grip on Sharat’s arm.

Sharat tried to shake him off. “I’m not going back in,” he said. “Let me go!”

The guard shook his head. “I’m afraid it’s more than my life’s worth to let you go now,” he said. Reaching down he took Sharat’s whip. “You’re under arrest.”

“What, just for taking a wash?” asked Sharat in disbelief.

“You weren’t just taking a wash,” said Manu. “I
remember you. You were trying to get into Shergarh.”

Sharat felt his guts twist. He had to convince the guard that he was innocent.

“I didn’t mean any harm,” he blurted out. “I was just trying to find my tiger.”

An expression of surprise crossed the guard’s face. “What?” he said. “You mean the
white
tiger?”

Sharat looked up at him eagerly. “Yes!” he said. “Have you seen her?”

“Only at the circus,” Manu admitted. For a moment he forgot he was a soldier and he looked at Sharat with undisguised admiration. “That tiger was beautiful!” he said. “How do you keep her under control?”

Sharat bit his lip. “She’s tame,” he said. “I’ve had her since I was a baby.”

Manu frowned. “What makes you think you’ll find her inside Shergarh?” he asked.

“She disappeared last night, while we were performing for the Emperor,” explained Sharat. “That’s why I wanted to talk to him. I need his help. I think she’s been stolen.”

Manu gave a short laugh. “There’s no use talking to the Emperor,” he said. “He doesn’t have any power. All he cares about is hunting.”

Sharat felt a crash of disappointment.

“Surely there must be someone who can help me,” he said.

Manu shook his head. “
Nothing
gets out of Shergarh alive,” he said. “I’ve heard they do experiments on the animals they round up from the forest in there.”
He shivered.

Terror clutched Sharat’s heart. “What am I going to do?” he cried.

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to come with me,” said Manu firmly.

Sharat stared at him in dismay. “You’re not still going to arrest me, are you?”

Manu glanced around. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I can’t let you go now. There are spies everywhere in this city.”

“But I haven’t done anything wrong!” Sharat protested.

Manu sighed. “Don’t blame me,” he said. “I never wanted to be a soldier. I wanted to be a farmer. When they first started clearing the forests I thought I might even get my own place, but since the trees were cut down it’s stopped raining and now nothing grows. That’s why I had to join the army. It’s the only way to make a living.”

Sharat felt a glimmer of hope. If the guard was unwilling, perhaps he could be bribed. He fumbled in his pack to find the treasure Lemo had given him. With a chink of metal, he lifted the bag.

“Here, take my gold,” he said. “You could run away then. Stop being a soldier.”

Manu hesitated. “Is that gold from Shergarh?” he asked.

Sharat nodded. “Yes,” he said. “We were paid to perform for the Emperor.”

The guard shook his head. “I don’t want the Emperor’s gold,” he said. “It’s too easy to trace.” His eyes lingered on the jewel at Sharat’s throat. “Give me the diamond
instead,” he offered. “Then I’ll let you go.”

Sharat’s heart sank. He put his free hand up to touch the amulet.

“Hurry up!” Manu told him. “The longer we wait, the more likely it is that we’ll be seen.”

“All right! All right!” said Sharat. “I’ve just got to get it off.”

Playing for time, he reached back to fiddle with the cord at the back of his neck. After a moment he gave up.

“I can’t get it undone,” he said, exasperated.

Manu was getting impatient. “Hold still!” he said, letting go of Sharat’s arm. “I’ll do it.”

With a frown he bent over to peer at the knot.

It was the chance Sharat was waiting for. Without hesitation, he elbowed the soldier in the gut and began to run.

“Hey!” Manu stumbled back in surprise as Sharat slipped out of his grip. For a moment he caught his breath. Then with a cry of fury, he set off in pursuit.

Without looking back, Sharat sped over the dried mud paths between the crumbling huts and ditches of this unknown neighbourhood. All along he was dimly aware of Manu right behind him. Soon he reached the main road. His heart pounding, he darted between horses and carts, past buffalo wagons and through groups of scrawny cows that were scavenging from the piles of rubbish that smouldered at each crossroads.

He had no idea where he was going. All he knew was that he had to get away. Gasping, he ducked through a tiny
gap into a twisting alleyway and threw himself behind a ruined hut to catch his breath.

His beating heart felt like it would split his ribs, and his lungs were burning, but there was no sign of pursuit. He’d lost the guard.

Catching his breath, the first thing he did was check the amulet. To his relief it was still there, but as he touched it the knot at the back of his neck came undone and it dropped into his hand. He folded it safely into the band of his trousers. Then, as he stepped carefully out of his hiding place his nose wrinkled in disgust. The air was foul with the stench of decay and sewage.

Breathing as lightly as he could, he peered into the twilight, but before he could get his bearings, something hit him between the shoulder blades and he collapsed, winded, on to the ground.

E
mperor Suleiman tried to concentrate as he leaned over the campaign table, but it wasn’t easy. Rookh had brought him here to discuss their latest offensive, but instead he couldn’t stop thinking about the circus. How wonderful it must be to be free, like that boy with his beautiful white tiger! Unfortunately he knew that this could never be. He was the Emperor of the richest empire in the world. He had duties to perform, meetings to attend and armies to command.

With a sigh he looked down at the maps that lay spread out before him. War. He knew it was a necessary evil if he was going to keep his empire safe. Rookh had explained it to him many times.

“Yours is the richest empire in the world,” he’d said.
“But it only got that way because your father stepped in to control the jinnis.”

Suleiman had nodded. All his life he’d been hearing about these mysterious jinnis that threatened to bring him down if he so much as slept in the wrong position. Ugly, vicious creatures, everyone knew that their sole delight was to wreak havoc on the world of men. After all, it was the jinnis that had cast a curse on the Empire and brought famine to this once fertile land. Luckily, all the jinnis in the city had been enslaved, and now it was Suleiman’s responsibility to expand on the good work that his father had begun. Or so Rookh always told him.

He was facing Rookh over the campaign table. On either side of him were two of his top generals, and in front of them all was a large map showing the frontiers of the Empire and positions of their troops. “So what do we need to do now?” he asked.

Rookh bent down over the table. With a sweep of his hand he pointed at a green area on the map that lay far to the south of the City of Jewels. “These forests here need to go,” he said. “There are several towns in this area with jinnist sympathies.” His face twisted in distaste. “They even harbour
witches
.”

“Oh dear,” said Suleiman. He knew all about witches. Old women who pretended to use plants to heal people, when in reality only proper doctors with a licence from the government could do that.

Rookh unrolled a scroll and placed it on top of the map. “If Your Imperial Majesty would just sign here, the
armies can be dispatched,” he said.

Suleiman sighed as he reached for the quill. He understood the logic behind this never-ending war. Jinnis lurked wherever there were green places. Some said they came and went from their world to our own through the roots of the trees, but he dimly remembered the gardens he’d played in as a baby, and he couldn’t help feeling curious about the forests that he’d only read about. Now as he looked down at that area of green on the map he felt slightly sick, and today, for the first time, he stopped before making his mark.

“Isn’t there any other way?” he asked.

Rookh looked at him sharply. “Your Majesty, are you questioning the value of our campaign?” he demanded.

For a moment Suleiman glared back at Rookh. He was the Emperor after all, and Rookh was only his regent, but for some reason he couldn’t find a way to object. He’d been under his control for so long.

As if sensing his reluctance, Rookh put his hand on the boy’s arm. “I know it pains you to do this,” he said. “But you must realise how important it is for the Empire to expand. The jinnis control the elements. It’s thanks to them that the earth is barren, the air is dry, the sun is so merciless and the rain refuses to fall. Only when they are
all
under our power will we be able to reverse this famine and bring life back to the land. Besides, it’s in everyone’s interest to enslave the jinnis. Only they know how to find the jewels that lie buried deep below the earth, and without the jewels how would we pay for food?”

Rookh looked reproachfully at the Emperor. “Surely Your Majesty doesn’t want his people to starve?”

Suleiman pressed his lips together. He knew all about the mines of course, but so far he’d been refused access. Only Doctor Rookh was allowed down there, along with a few select members of his inner circle.

“Isn’t it time I was allowed to visit these mines?” he demanded. “How can I be expected to make decisions about
anything
if you won’t let me know what’s really going on?”

Rookh’s voice was smooth. “My dear boy, allow me to point out that you are still very young,” he said. “Trust me. The mines are very dangerous, and I have a duty towards you. I was your father’s best friend and most valued advisor. When he died so tragically, he appointed me as regent, and I promised to keep you safe.”

The generals exchanged glances. Rumour had it that Rookh had been instrumental in the old Emperor’s death, but he was so powerful that nobody had been brave enough to challenge his version of events. Besides, there were numerous financial advantages in keeping close to the man who controlled the jinnis.

“Your Imperial Majesty, we are waiting for your command,” said one of the generals, a stocky man with grey hair and a soft voice.

“Yes, yes. I know,” said Suleiman. The weight of responsibility pressed on him. He wished he didn’t have to make these kinds of decisions, he would far rather be feeding his elephants.

Feeling helpless, he leaned over to sign the scroll, but even as he did so he resolved that one day he would take matters into his own hands. Soon he would be thirteen – old enough to appoint his own advisors, and when that time came he was determined to inspect the mines, but most importantly of all, he wanted to have a full enquiry made into these mysterious jinnis.