A Girl and Her Tiger Read online

  “But only British men fight,” the older woman said. “If only Indian men fight, there are not enough. But if all of us were to raise a fist against them, we could drive them off in a day. Right into the sea!”

  Priya laughed at that, but there was a ring of truth to it. Indians outnumbered the British by the millions. How had India even ended up in this situation? Priya sighed. She knew she would never know the answer to that. As Krish had said, the British had been in India for two hundred years. This dynamic had been building for centuries.

  One of the women then brought Priya some food. Fresh naan, curry, and goat cheese. All thoughts of rebellion fled Priya’s mind as she dropped to her knees and devoured the food. She tried to apologize, but she was completely incomprehensible with her mouth stuffed with food. She was nearly brought to tears as she ate her fill.

  “Calm yourself, child,” the older woman said, squeezing Priya’s shoulders. “We will make sure you never go hungry again if you stay with us.”

  “Stay?” Priya asked when she finally slowed her eating. She had become so excited by the rebels’ cause, she had forgotten that she had been on a journey to get home. “I don’t know.”

  “You must!” the other women said. “Please!” they begged.

  Priya finished her meal and stood up. “My parents. They think I am lost to them forever. I need to let them know I am safe.”

  The older woman nodded. “I understand. There is a city about half a day’s ride from here. I am sure we could send a letter to them from there.”

  “That would be wonderful,” Priya said. “I could go tomorrow.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so, child,” the woman said. “I heard you are running from soldiers, and that many were killed on the beach. It would be very dangerous for you to leave the camp right now.”

  “But—” Priya started to object, but the woman had led Priya back to the middle of camp. When she saw Zayn, her words left her.

  He had also been washed and fed and given new clothes. He looked years younger. He gave her that heart-melting smile and everyone and everything seemed to fade away.

  The woman squeezed Priya’s shoulders, momentarily bringing her back. “Why don’t you and your friend talk about what you should do. Then listen to what Krish has to say. I am sure you will make the best decision.” She gave Priya a mischievous smile as she walked away. Priya wondered if the woman had been a village matchmaker before she became a rebel.

  “You look…” Zayn paused as he tried to find the right words. “Like a girl,” he finally settled on, and Priya felt the smile flee her face, which made Zayn laugh. “You must know you looked like you had just crawled out of the sea before.”

  “Well…yeah. I did,” she said. “I feel like myself for the first time since I was kidnapped. I don’t even know how long ago that was, but it feels like years.”

  Zayn nodded. “You’ve been through a lot,” he said. He motioned for her to walk with him. They went past the tents to walk around the perimeter where they could have a little privacy. “I can understand if you want to keep heading home.”

  “I do,” she said. “But with the soldiers still looking for us, it might be too dangerous to try and leave now. Krish might not let me.”

  “Krish will not hold you against your will,” Zayn said quickly, and Priya raised an eyebrow. “He and I have been talking and I like what he has to say. Things are coming to a head quickly. The time to act is upon us.”

  “But what is different?” Priya asked. “Why now?”

  “This might be the first you are hearing about rebels,” Zayn said. “In the cities, I am sure your information is limited. But different villages and communities have been rebelling against the British for years. But without any way to organize, the British usually put the rebellions down quickly, killing anyone who would speak against them. And they don’t allow the newspapers—British or Indian ones—to report on them. But now, the country is changing. People are more mobile. There are trains and telegraphs and a postal service. Survivors have been able to share their stories and drum up support. Krish is mounting an army. This camp is only one of many hidden throughout the region. They are only waiting for his signal to strike.”

  “What signal?” Priya asked.

  “I don’t know,” Zayn said. “He wouldn’t tell me. But he is holding a camp-wide meeting tonight. I think he wants to tell everyone at the same time. Whatever it is, I want to be a part of it.”

  “Look at you,” Priya said, beaming. “And I thought you were just a toadying soldier boy.”

  “I think you will want to be a part of it too,” Zayn said, stopping and taking her hand. Her heart thumped hard in her chest. “I want to thank you for bringing me here.”

  “Zayn…” she started to say, but her words fled.

  “I mean it,” he said. “I know I resisted following you at first. I was scared. But I was so unhappy before. Just standing by while my countrymen were having everything taken from them. So many sold as slaves.”

  Priya gasped.

  “Yes,” he admitted, his eyes rimmed red with shame. “You were not the first person I saw in the hull of a ship who had been kidnapped. There were many, many others. When I think about what they must have suffered—”

  “Zayn,” Priya said, reaching up and stroking his face. “It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have stopped it. You spoke up for me and still couldn’t save me.”

  “I’ll never forgive myself for that!” he said gripping her arms. “I couldn’t protect you then, but I will protect you from now on.”

  “I’m safe now,” she said. She could feel her entire body burning for him. The intensity of his gaze was pure fire, and she wanted to go up in flames.

  Zayn pulled her up to him and placed his lips on hers. She reached around his head and gripped his hair. He backed her into a tree and opened his mouth, taking in her lips, her tongue. Every inch of her body tingled and ached for him. She groaned as he kissed her chin and her throat. Then she gasped as he did the unthinkable and squeezed her breast.

  “Priya…Priya,” he panted as he pressed against her. She felt his hand inch up her sari to her waist. She wanted him. Her heart and her body wanted this man.

  But not like this. In the woods against a tree. On the run, starved and exhausted. Exposed in the woods where anyone could walk upon them at any moment. She wanted him, but she wanted to lay in his arms all night until the sun rose. She wanted him to take his time exploring every inch of her. She remembered her grandmother’s wedding sari and how it had been her dream to wear it on her own wedding day. Which made her think of her mother and how ashamed and disappointed she would be in her.

  “No,” she finally whispered, gripping his wrist.

  “What?” he asked.

  “No,” she said more clearly. “Not…not like this.”

  He moved his hands to her face and kissed her again, but with less force. “A goddess deserves better,” he said softly.

  “Don’t call me that,” she said, pushing him away.

  He chuckled, but as he turned away, he froze. Priya looked up and saw that Nabhitha was watching them. She was not growling or purring, but was just sitting, watching, her tail flicking back and forth.

  “I think she was just making sure you weren’t hurting me,” Priya said.

  Zayn raised his hands and backed away slowly. “I’ll, uhh…I’ll see you at the meeting with Krish.” He slipped through the tents and back into the camp.

  Priya then looked back at Nabhitha and crossed her arms over his chest. “You scared him away. Are you happy with yourself?”

  Nabhitha stood and walked back into the jungle without a look back.

  Chapter Twenty

  Priya took a moment to calm her breathing and straighten her sari before following Zayn back into the camp. By the time she got there, everyone had already gathered around to hear what Krish had to say.

  “—time has come!” he was saying as Priya walked in and everyone clapped a
nd cheered. Krish saw her and smiled. “Even the gods and goddesses have smiled upon us.”

  She rolled her eyes and everyone laughed. She locked eyes with Zayn on the other side of the crowd. He smiled and she blushed, looking away so she could focus on what Krish was saying.

  “Now is the time for action. The time to fight back. To take back India!”

  The crowd erupted into cheers and Priya clapped along, feeling pride swell in her heart. She was glad to be here, to be part of this moment she was sure was going to be important in the history of India’s long march toward freedom.

  “And I know how we are going to do it,” Krish said, and everyone held their breath. “We are going to kill the governor.”

  Everyone gasped and started talking at once. Priya’s hand went to her mouth. Did he really just admit that he was going to murder—assassinate—the governor?

  The governor was the queen’s emissary in India, and he acted with the full authority of the British Crown. He was practically the king of India, though governors tended to change every few years—usually because they grew so wealthy so quickly they saw no reason to stay. The current governor was the Viscount Canning. Other than his name, Priya knew very little about him.

  Krish motioned for everyone to quiet down. “I know this seems shocking, but it is very simple. The governor is traveling with his family from Bombay to Goa overland instead of by sea so he can assess the land and give encouragement to the local British officials. He is traveling with an armed contingent, of course. But we have more men than he realizes. We also have the element of surprise. We can swoop in and kill the governor and anyone who stands in our way and slip away before anyone even realizes what happened. This will be an act that the British government will not be able to keep quiet. Once the rest of India knows that we were successful, everyone will be empowered to stand up! To fight!”

  The crowd erupted into cheers again, but Priya was horrified. She couldn’t believe Krish’s grand plan was to murder the governor, and he would be traveling with his family. Were they going to be killed too? But then Priya realized that she had been a fool. Did she really think an armed open rebellion would not end in bloodshed? She had already seen Krish and his men kill soldiers on the beach. She should have known that Krish’s “something big” would involve more killing.

  She shook her head and tried to slip out of the crowd. She wanted to get to Zayn and run away before anyone noticed. She couldn’t be part of this.

  But Krish saw her. “Goddess!” he called out. “Will you join us?”

  She turned toward him and the crowd went silent, waiting for her response in anticipation. She knew what they wanted her to say. She only hoped they would not turn on her when she disappointed them.

  “No,” she said. She had expected the crowd to erupt in angry jeers, but they just stood stone silent as they looked from her back to Krish.

  “Why not?” he asked her.

  “I’ll not condone murder,” Priya said.

  “It is not murder when it is in self-defense,” Krish challenged. “Was it murder when your tiger killed the man in the woods?”

  “That’s not the same thing,” Priya said. “The governor is not a rapist or a murderer. I’m not his judge or executioner.”

  “Every bag of grain he exports to England is just like taking food from the mouths of our children,” Krish said. “Every child who dies of hunger is a life on his hands.”

  “But what about Canning’s children?” Priya shouted. “You said his wife and his children are with him. Presumably there are other friends and servants traveling with them as well. They are innocent in all this. But if you attack their caravan, they could die too.”

  “There are no innocents among the British,” Krish said, and most of the crowd seemed to agree with him. “Every person who eats Indian rice, or wears Indian silk, or drinks Indian tea contributes to the exploitation of the Indian people.”

  The crowd clapped in agreement. Priya looked for Zayn, but she could not see him.

  “Every man or woman who wants to fight,” Krish said, “come to me for your assignment. Everyone else, plan to break down the camp and travel to meet at the rendezvous point afterward. Get ready for a war!”

  The crowd erupted into cheers again and began to disperse. Most of the men went to Krish, as did some of the women. A few people gathered in other areas to discuss how they were going to move the camp.

  Priya tried to slip away, but she was approached by some of the women from earlier.

  “Won’t you fight with us?” one of them asked.

  “The girl with the tiger would be quite a fright!” another exclaimed.

  “No,” Priya said, trying to get away. “I can’t be part of this.”

  “But you are part of it,” the first woman said. “The soldiers won’t stop looking for you. You should join us to strike while you have the element of surprise.”

  “I won’t be party to murder!” Priya said, growing frustrated. Why wouldn’t they just let her leave?

  The other women crowded around her, one grabbing her by the arm and shaking her.

  “They have murdered us for hundreds of years!” someone shouted, then other angry voices joined in around her.

  Priya tried to pull away, but she couldn’t. She closed her eyes and covered her ears. She just wanted to go home…

  “Let her go!” Zayn’s voice cut through the angry voices and they quieted. Zayn wrapped his arm around Priya’s shoulder and moved her away from the crowd. “No one should be forced to fight against their will.”

  Some of the women continued to argue with him, but Priya walked away out of the camp, making her way toward where the horses were being kept. She wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed her hot cheeks. How had she come to be here? What was going on? Should she try to return home alone? Warn the governor? Move with the camp? She wanted to support the rebels’ cause, but committing murder was a line she couldn’t cross. What should she do?

  “Priya!” Zayn called out as he trotted up to her. “What are you doing? Aren’t you going to join Krish?”

  “No!” Priya nearly shrieked. “How can you even consider it? This is crazy! It’s wrong. We can’t be party to this. We need to leave.”

  “And go where?” Zayn asked with nearly a chuckle.

  “Home!” she said. “I have only ever wanted to get back home.”

  Zayn shook his head. “You can go home,” he said. “But what about me? I have a family, yes, but the army will be looking for me. If I go back, I’ll be caught and could put the rest of my family at risk for harboring a deserter, a fugitive, a traitor!”

  “Come with me,” Priya said. “We will figure it out later. We can find you a new name. A new life. No one in Bombay will know who you are. Just come with me.”

  “You are just going to leave?” Zayn asked. “After everything you have been through? This is your chance to be part of something greater. A chance to avenge all of India. I thought that was what you wanted. I’m here because of you.”

  Priya shook her head and turned away. “I…I didn’t know!”

  “Didn’t know what?” he asked, placing his hands on her shoulders.

  “Anything!” Priya yelled turning back, her eyes watering. “I didn’t know anything about life or death or rebels or killing. I didn’t know you. I didn’t know I would miss my mother so much. I’m…I keep saying I’m just an idiot girl who ran away. This was all a mistake.”

  Zayn smiled and cupped her cheek in his hand. “You are not an idiot girl,” he said. “You are the girl with tiger stripes. You just don’t know it yet.”

  Priya reached up and took his hand in hers. “Don’t do this,” she begged. “If the governor or his family are killed, the British will never stop hunting you until you are dead.”

  “My life is already forfeit,” he said sadly. “I’ll fight until the bitter end, but it might not be so bitter with you at my side.”

  Priya’s heart swelled. She wanted to s
tay with him. Fight with him. Protect him. But she couldn’t. She almost chuckled at the wild rebel he had morphed into from the straight-laced British toady he was only a few days before. She had done that to him. Perhaps she held more power than she realized.

  “I can’t,” she whispered.

  Zayn pressed his lips and nodded, his disappointment clear on his face. He lifted her chin and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. “Farewell, tiger girl.” Then, he turned and walked away back into the camp.

  Priya reached up and wiped the tears from her cheeks that she didn’t realize had fallen. She heard a low rumbling and knew Nabhitha was watching her.

  “It’s just you and me again, girl,” Priya said. “What should we do?”

  Nabhitha stepped out of the jungle and into the light. She lifted her head and sniffed the air. Then she let out a low growl.

  “You can sense it, can’t you,” Priya said. “The danger in the air. This is going to end badly. I know it.”

  Nabhitha grunted and shifted on her feet as though she was anxious about something.

  “We need to leave, no question about that,” Priya said. But what she left unsaid was that she also needed to do more. It felt traitorous to say it out loud, but she wanted to warn the governor of what was coming. If the rebels lost the element of surprise, maybe Krish would call off the attack. She could save the lives of the governor and the rebels.

  “Come on,” Priya said as she untethered a horse and climbed up on its back. “We can’t just let this happen.”

  She led the horse to the trail that would lead to the road toward Bombay. If the governor and his men were heading toward Goa, that is the road they would be on.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Priya had been so lost in thought as she rode that she came upon the governor's traveling party sooner than she expected. She knew it was the governor not only because the camp was much bigger than the one she had just left, but it was far more well-apportioned. There were plenty of lanterns, not merely torches, and the tents were new and large. There were also dozens of armed guards standing around. From inside the camp, she could hear voices of laughter and music playing. The family must have brought a phonograph with them. She rolled her eyes at the thought of being able to travel with such frivolous items when she didn’t even have extra clothes or enough food to eat.