The Tiger Prince (38 page)

uel got off his mule and started to undo the strap on the backpack. “The sun won’t set for another hour. I’ll set up camp while you and Li Sung look around.”

“There doesn’t seem to be much to see.” Jane looked around the clearing—an area a good half-mile in diameter denuded of vegetation except for a few thorn trees that lay dead and rotting on the ground. “Why do they call it Elephant Crossing?”

“According to Dilam, the elephants usually stay on the east side of the island but occasionally one or
two, sometimes even the entire herd, make a trek to the west and take this route.”

“Then why did you cut your road directly through the crossing area?”

“It saved me about a half-mile of clearing.” He shrugged. “I’ve never seen any elephants in all the time I’ve been running pack trains from the mountain. If I ever did run across a herd, you can bet I’d back away and let them go first.”

She frowned. “I can’t lay track here if there’s a chance of it being damaged by a herd of elephants. I’ll have to angle away from the crossing.”

Ruel smiled. “It will take more time.”

He had known she wouldn’t risk building across the clearing, she thought in frustration. “Then I’ll cut time somewhere else.”

“Why do they go?” Li Sung asked suddenly.

They both turned to look at him.

“The elephants,” he said. “You said they only occasionally trek to the west. Why do they go?”

“I have no idea. Dilam says the Cinnidans leave the elephants alone and the herds leave them alone.”

“If they’re interested enough to know they go west, why don’t they know why?”

“Why are you so curious about them?”

“No reason.” Li Sung slowly and painfully dismounted and began unsaddling the mule. “It is good to be off this creature. I thought riding a horse was painful until I mounted this beast.”

“I would have given you a horse, but a mule is more surefooted on that narrow canyon trail.”

“We’ll have to send a crew to widen the trail,” Jane said.

“It would make no difference. All animals are painful to this limb of mine.” Li Sung moved stiffly across the clearing. “I will look over the terrain and see if I can determine another route that will prove adequate.”

Ruel looked after him. “He’s a brave man. A far more worthy specimen than your Patrick.” He shot her
a mocking smile. “I’m surprised you didn’t bring your father along too.”

“He would have been in the way.”

“He’s always in the way now, isn’t he? Yet you still take care of him. Why?”

She unsaddled her mule and dropped the saddle on the ground. “I can’t do anything else. When you take care of someone, you become accustomed … they belong to you.”

“The caretaker.”

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just something Kartauk said about you. It’s a dangerous weakness.”

She recalled Kartauk had once warned her of much the same thing, but only after he had used that ‘weakness’ to his advantage. “I have no time for this.” She started across the clearing. “I’m going after Li Sung.”

“Why didn’t you tell him to wait for you?”

“He needed the time alone. The trip was hard on him and he doesn’t like anyone to see him in pain.”

“Not even you?”

“I would feel the same way.” She looked at him. “And so would you.”

She moved quickly after Li Sung.

Night had fallen when they arrived back at camp, led by the aroma of frying bacon and the beacon of a blazing campfire. Ruel was crouched before the fire, a frying pan in his hand. He glanced up as he ladled the bacon onto three tin plates already heaped with beans and biscuits. “Well, have you charted a new course?”

“There’s a possible route to the north.” Li Sung took one of the plates and sat down. “But the light faded before we could explore very thoroughly.”

“It doesn’t matter. There will be plenty of time for that later.” Jane sat down and began to eat. “You can take a team back here while I supervise the start on the track down the mountain.”

“You don’t foresee any lengthy delays?” Ruel asked.

She met his gaze. “None that we can’t overcome.”

He smiled. “Sometimes delays occur over which we have no control. We’ll have to see, won’t—”

“What was that?” Li Sung lifted his head, his expression intent. “I heard something.”

Jane heard it too this time, faint and far away.

“It’s only an elephant trumpeting,” Ruel said. “You hear them sometimes.”

“I thought they would sound fierce,” Jane said. “He sounds … sad, lost.”

Li Sung gazed at her sternly. “He is neither sad nor lost and there is no need for you to rescue him.”

Ruel smiled. “There’s no danger of that. He’s not nearby.”

“Near enough,” Li Sung said dryly. “I would prefer to neither see nor hear them.”

“Li Sung has a dislike for elephants,” Jane explained to Ruel.

“She is kindly trying to disguise my real feelings. I do not dislike them. I fear them.” Li Sung paused. “And I envy them.”

“Envy? Why?” Ruel asked.

“Power. They possess more strength than any creature on earth. It is always the lot of those who have little power to envy those who do. I have always been considered inferior because of my race and crippled body.” He glanced at Ruel. “I also envy you, Ruel. You have power now.”

“Power can always be taken away if not guarded well.”

“But you know what it feels like to possess it. That is something I will never know.”

“Yes, you will.” Jane blinked rapidly to hide the tears she must not let fall. “You’ll see, Li Sung. Once we have our own railroad, you’ll be respected and—”

“It’s not the same. It is a power you will have given me, not one I’ve won myself.” He set his plate on the ground. “I believe I’ll go to sleep now. You may clean up, Ruel.”

Ruel grimaced. “So much for my lauded power. May I point out I’ve done all the work so far?”

“It is the responsibility of those who hold power to care for those weaker than themselves.” Li Sung settled into his bedroll and turned his back on them. “It is only fair, after all.”

Ruel turned to look at her, and she could see the reflection of the flames in his eyes. She stiffened as tension gripped her. As long as Li Sung was there, Ruel maintained a civilized facade. But now Li Sung was going to sleep, leaving her to face Ruel alone.

“I agree with Li Sung.” She quickly set her own plate down, settled into her bedroll beside Li Sung, and shut her eyes.

She heard Ruel swear softly and then chuckle. “I believe there’s something wrong with both your reasoning, but I’ll not argue.”

No, Ruel never wasted time arguing about the unimportant things, she thought. He would perform the menial tasks with perfect good nature and matchless efficiency and save himself for the bigger battles.

A short time later she heard Ruel crawling into his blankets across the fire. Then there was silence except for the rustling night sounds of the jungle surrounding them, the crackle of the wood in the fire … and the occasional trumpeting of an elephant.

Li Sung was probably right about the elephants being neither sad nor lonely, but the sound still filled her with melancholy.

Another elephant trumpeted in the darkness.

She had thought Li Sung asleep but apparently she was mistaken.

His murmur was almost inaudible but still held an element of wistfulness. “Power …”

Ruel’s mining camp was a tent city as different from his palace as Kasanpore had been from Glenclaren. A hundred or so tents dotted the landscape, a sight not so different from the temporary tent camps of her childhood.

The thought caused Jane’s hand to involuntarily clench on the reins.

“Is something wrong?” Ruel’s gaze was narrowed on her face. “I know it’s not the palace, but I didn’t think it was that bad.”

She forced a smile. “Nothing’s wrong. It just reminded me of—”

“It is not the same,” Li Sung interrupted. “See how clean it is here? No rubbish. Perfect order.”

She felt an easing of tension as affection surged through her. Trust Li Sung to sense the bitter memories and step in to soothe and comfort her. “No, it’s not the same.”

“Same as what?” Ruel asked.

She stiffened warily as she saw his arrested expression. “Li Sung and I have seen quite a few tent cities over the years.” She added quickly to forestall further questions. “But none this clean. Are you responsible?”

He shook his head. “The Cinnidans are incredibly fastidious. The first thing they demanded when I came to terms with the workers was a communal bathhouse, a
belim
tent, and two hours a day for
belim
and time to police their living quarters.”

“Demanded?”

“Did you think I was using slave labor?”

“Let’s say I didn’t find you so compliant in our negotiations.”

“I had no choice with the Cinnidans.” He grinned ruefully. “They deigned to work in my mine only on their own terms. If I hadn’t acceded to their wishes, they would have stayed happily in their villages and watched me work myself into the grave no matter how much money I offered them.”

But he bore them no ill will. Jane noticed the same affectionate possessiveness when he spoke of the Cinnidans as when he had looked at his mountain. “Money has no appeal to them?”

“Money has appeal for everyone, but the Cinnidans don’t regard it as necessary to ‘felicitous living,’ as they call it.”

“And what do they think is necessary?” Li Sung asked.

“Children, serene surroundings, time to learn from their teachers, and
belim.”

“Belim?”

“Games. Cinnidans love games. You can almost always find a game of some sort in progress.”

“And we’re supposed to get them to work?” Jane asked dryly.

“They’re not lazy, but I had a problem with that when I first came here until I realized the secret. You make work a game and put the workers in competition with each other. Every night we declare a winner and award a prize.”

“What kind of prize?”

“It changes every day. A day off, a trinket, money … The local council gathers to decide the prizes every two weeks.”

“And you head the council?” Li Sung asked.

He shook his head. “No one is allowed to sit on a Cinnidar council except the Cinnidans. I’ve been here three years and never been accorded that honor.” He smiled. “But Dilam tells me if I continue to behave in a proper manner, in another year or two I may be permitted to attend, if not participate.”

“Is Dilam on the council?”

“Oh yes, Dilam heads the council. A most extraordinary individual.” He cast a glance at the setting sun. “I’ll take you over to the
belim
tent. Most of the workers gather there for dice and card games before supper. I believe it’s time you met our Dilam.”

They heard the laughter and excited shouts issuing from the huge tent in the center of the camp from a hundred yards away.

When they entered the tent the noise was deafening. The tent was unfurnished except for colorful rugs covering the bare dirt floor and elaborately carved brass filigree lanterns that illuminated the excited faces of the
men and women gathered in several groups. Jane smiled in amusement as she remembered Li Sung’s comment about the superiority of the Cinnidans because they wore their hair in pigtails. Well, these Cinnidans certainly had a fondness for the practice; she had never seen so many pigtails in one place. Men and women alike wore their long, dark hair pulled back into thick single braids.

Their entrance received little attention from the crowd, though a few men hailed Ruel with more friendliness than respect. Ruel answered with equal casualness while he looked around the tent. “Ah, dice … I thought so. Dilam loves dice. This way.” He elbowed his way through the crowd to a circle of men and women kneeling, playing dice in the far corner.

“Dilam, could I speak to you?” Ruel called.

One of the glossy dark-maned heads bent over the dice lifted. “In a moment, Samir Ruel.”

Jane stared in shock. Dilam was a woman.

Dilam’s glance shifted to Jane. “Ah, they are here? Good.”

“I thought you’d approve,” Ruel murmured to Jane. “It seems you’re not the only woman capable of bossing a railroad crew.”

Dilam rolled out the dice. Immediate groans and derisive whoops erupted from the other players. She grinned and said something in Cinnidan before calling to Ruel, “They do not like it because I’m lucky. I told them the gods reward with luck the one who has already been given the gift of cleverness.” She began gathering up the stakes. “Wait for me outside. It’s too noisy in here for greetings.”

Ruel nodded and steered Jane and Li Sung from the tent.

“A woman?” Li Sung asked.

“Medford asked the Cinnidar high council for an intelligent native to supervise his crew, and they sent Dilam. On Cinnidar you don’t offend the council by refusing their choice.”

“She speaks English very well.”

“She learned it in only four weeks. I told you she was extraordinary.”

A moment later Dilam strolled out of the tent and came toward them, moving with a springy step and athletic grace. She was of middle height, with broad shoulders and a body that appeared both strong and lithe. She was dressed in a dark green tunic, loose black trousers, and brown sandals that, though worn, appeared spotlessly clean. “You are Jane Barnaby?” She beamed. “I give you greetings. I am Dilam Kankula. You may call me Dilam.”