Everybody was happy except me. I sat there holding the remainder of my muffin in my limp hand. My mouth was still hanging open, and I felt frozen to my chair. After I pulled myself together, I got Matt’s attention.
‘What does this mean for your dad?’
He shrugged. ‘Dad still has the dogs, and he’s always had an interest in working with miniature horses. Now that the circus has more money, maybe Dad can get Mr. Maurizio to purchase a couple that he could start training.’
He walked off while I pondered the question, what does this mean for me? I felt . . . distressed. I knew that this circus gig would end soon anyway, but I’d put it out of my mind. I would really miss Ren. I didn’t realize how much until that very moment. Still, I was happy for him. I sighed and chided myself for getting too emotionally involved.
Despite feeling happy for my tiger, I also felt gloomy knowing I’d miss visiting and talking to him. The rest of that day, I kept busy to keep my mind off it. Matt and I worked all afternoon, and I didn’t have time to see Ren again until after dinner.
I hurried to my tent, grabbed my quilt, journal, and a book, and ran over to the barn. Finding my favorite spot, I sat down with my legs stretched out in front of me.
‘Hey, Ren. Pretty big news for you, huh? You’re going back to India! I really hope you’ll be happy there. Maybe you can find yourself a pretty female tiger.’
I heard a ‘harrumph’ sound come from the cage and thought for a minute. ‘Hey, I hope you still know how to hunt and stuff. Well, I guess being on a reserve they’d keep an eye on you so you don’t waste away.’
I heard a noise coming from the back of the building and turned to see that Mr. Kadam had entered. I sat up a little straighter and felt a little self-conscious for being caught talking to a tiger.
‘I am sorry to interrupt you,’ said Mr. Kadam. He glanced from the tiger to me, studied me carefully, and then stated, ‘You seem to have . . . affection for this tiger. Am I right?’
I answered unguardedly, ‘Yes. I enjoy spending time with him. So do you go around India rescuing tigers? That must be an interesting job.’
Smiling, he replied, ‘Oh, it’s not my main job. My true job is managing a large estate. The tiger is an item of interest for my employer and he’s the one who has made the offer to Mr. Maurizio.’ He found a stool, placed it across from me, and sat down, balancing his tall body on the short stool with a natural ease I would not have expected from an older man.
I asked him, ‘Are you from India?’
‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘I was born and raised there many years ago. The main holdings of the estate that I manage are there also.’
I picked up a piece of straw and wrapped it around my finger. ‘Why is this owner so interested in Ren?’
His eyes twinkled as he glanced at the tiger briefly and then asked, ‘Do you know the story of the great Prince Dhiren?’
I shook my head. ‘No.’
‘Your tiger’s name, Dhiren, in my language means “strong one.”’ He tilted his head and gazed at me thoughtfully. ‘A rather famous prince carried the same name, and he had quite an interesting history.’
I grinned. ‘You are evading my question and rather successfully too. But I love a good story. Can you remember it?’
His eyes fixed on something far off in the distance, and he smiled. ‘I think I can.’ His voice changed. Losing its crisp cadence, Mr. Kadam’s words took on a rounded, musical tone and he began, ‘Long ago, there was a powerful king of India who had two sons. One he named Dhiren. The two brothers received the best education and military training.
‘Their mother taught them to love the land and all the people who lived there. She often took the boys to play with underprivileged children because she wished for them to learn what their people needed. This contact also taught them to feel humility and to be grateful for the advantages they had. Their father, the king, taught them how to rule the kingdom. Dhiren, in particular, grew up to be a brave and fearless military leader as well as a sensible administrator.
‘His brother was also very brave, strong, and clever. He loved Dhiren, but, at times, he felt the piercing stab of jealousy in his heart, for despite being successful in all of his training, he knew that Dhiren was destined to be the next king. It was only natural for him to feel this way.
‘Dhiren had a knack for impressing people easily with his acumen, intelligence, and personality. A rare combination of charm and modesty embodied in the prince made him an outstanding politician. A person of contradictions, he was a great warrior as well as a renowned poet. The people loved the royal family and looked forward to many peaceful and happy years under Dhiren’s reign.’
I nodded, fascinated by the story, and asked, ‘What happened to the brothers? Did they battle each other for the throne?’
Shifting on the stool slightly, he continued, ‘King Rajaram, Dhiren’s father, arranged a marriage between Dhiren and the daughter of a ruler from a neighboring kingdom. The two kingdoms had lived in peace for many centuries but in recent years small skirmishes had broken out on the borders with increasing frequency. Dhiren was pleased with the alliance not only because the girl, whose name was Yesubai, was very beautiful, but also because he was wise enough to know that the union would bring peace to his land. They were formally engaged while Dhiren was away inspecting the troops in another part of the kingdom. During that absence, his brother began to spend time with Yesubai, and soon they fell in love with each other.’
The tiger snorted loudly and thumped his tail against the wooden floor of his cage a few times.
I glanced over at him, concerned, but he seemed fine. ‘Shh, Ren,’ I admonished. ‘Let him tell the story.’
He put his head on his paws and watched us.
Mr. Kadam went on. ‘He betrayed Dhiren so he could have the woman he loved. He bartered with a prodigious and evil man who cap-tured Dhiren on his journey home. As a political prisoner, Dhiren was dragged along behind a camel and paraded through the enemy’s town where the people threw stones, sticks, muck, and camel dung at him. He was tortured, his eyes were plucked out of their sockets, the hair was shaved off his head, and eventually his body was torn apart into pieces and thrown into the river.’
I gasped. ‘How horrible!’
Mesmerized by the story, I was bursting with questions, but I held back, wanting him to finish. Mr. Kadam focused his gaze on my face and continued gravely, ‘When his people learned what had happened, a great sorrow spread across the land. Some say that Dhiren’s people went down to the river and pulled out the torn pieces of his body to give him a proper funeral. Others say that his body was never found.
‘Hearing of their beloved son’s death, the king and his wife, heavy with misery, lapsed into a deep despair. Soon, both of them departed from this life. Dhiren’s brother ran away in shame. Yesubai took her own life. The Mujulaain empire was thrown into dark shadows of morass and dis-array. With the authoritative voice of the royal family gone, the military took over the kingdom. Eventually, the evil man who had killed Dhiren captured the throne but only after fifty years of terrible war and bloodshed.’
As he finished his story, there was a tangible silence. Ren’s tail rustled in his cage, which snapped me out of my reverie.
‘Wow,’ I responded. ‘So, did he love her?’
‘Of whom are you speaking?’
‘Did Dhiren love Yesubai?’
He blinked. ‘I . . . don’t know. Many marriages were arranged in those days, and love often wasn’t a consideration then.’
‘That’s a very sad sequence of events. I feel sorry for everyone, except for the bad guy, of course. A great story, though a bit bloody. An Indian tragedy. It reminds me of Shakespeare. He would have written a great play based on that tale. So, Ren is named after that Indian prince?’