Authors: Mary Jo Putney
A fist-size stone whizzed past her and smashed into the tiger's nose. The beast stopped in its tracks, blinking with astonishment.
Another rock thumped into the broad, striped chest, swiftly followed by another that struck the powerfully muscled shoulder. The tiger swung its head to gaze beyond Troth and growl a warning.
There was absolute silence until another stone slammed into a dark, furry ear. The beast spat with irritation, then pivoted fluidly and bounded into the undergrowth. As the lashing tail vanished, Kyle hauled her to her feet. "Are you all right. Troth?"
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
"Then let's move. Luckily your feline friend wasn't hungry, but we need to be gone before he works up an appetite." He kept one arm around her waist as he hustled her back to where he'd tethered the nervous donkey. It brayed when it saw them, tugging at the reins. As Kyle soothed the donkey, Troth asked, "What kind of fool throws stones at a tiger?"
"A fool who doesn't have a rifle." The donkey had settled down, so Kyle scooped her up and swung her into the saddle. "I've had some experience with tigers in India and was reasonably sure that stinging this one with stones would discourage him without triggering his temper. Unless they're man-eaters on a hunt, tigers usually won't go out of their way to attack humans, but when you fell, you started looking more edible."
"You're the one who's supposed to be riding," she protested as he started leading the donkey down the rough track.
"Later, when you aren't shaking like a dish of jellied eels." He gave her a quick smile, which contrasted oddly with the bandages that concealed most of his face.
He was right; her whole body trembled. She was grateful to let her companion take charge. A pity she'd been too distracted to enjoy having his strong arms lift her onto the donkey.
She must be recovering if she was beginning to think lustful thoughts again. "You throw well."
"I was reckoned to be quite a good cricket bowler at Eton." He chuckled.
"It didn't occur to me at the time that the skill would prove handy with tigers. The advantages of a good education."
She smiled, her tension easing. Insouciance in the face of near disaster was one of the qualities she most liked about the British. Her father had had it in full measure. He and Kyle would have liked each other.
Half a mile down the track she slid from the saddle and took over the donkey's leading rein. Kyle fell back a step and placed his hand on the saddle in his usual position. Troth noted that except for his rescue of her, he maintained the posture and mannerisms of an old man even when there appeared to be no one around. In China, there could always be hidden eyes watching.
"It's almost sunset and I don't think we're going to reach that village by nightfall," he remarked.
She shivered involuntarily. "I'm afraid not."
"We can't spend the night in the open, since tigers do most of their hunting then. We could climb a tree, but our braying friend would be in the same position as a goat staked out as bait." Unobtrusively he pulled the strip of gauze over his eyes down so he could see more clearly. "That might be a cave over there. Shall we take a closer look?"
She nodded, hoping he was right. She wanted solid walls around her tonight.
They scrambled up the incline and around rocks, the donkey protesting until Kyle said sternly, "Stop complaining. We're doing this to save you from being eaten."
"Perhaps he complains since he needs a name."
"We can call him Stubborn Ass," Kyle suggested.
She laughed. "He's a Chinese donkey and should have a Chinese name. How about Sheng, which means victory? "
"Let's hope he lives up to that. Come along, Sheng." Kyle hauled at the animal's bridle to urge him up the rugged slope.
As they neared the cave, Troth said uneasily, "Have you noticed how well-worn this track is? I hope it wasn't made by hungry creatures who live in the cave."
"Anything short of a tiger we can handle."
Troth blinked when a pistol materialized in Kyle's hand. Where had he been hiding that? What a useful man he was in wild country.
She waited as Kyle stepped warily into the narrow entrance. His voice echoing oddly, he said, "There's a sizable space. It rather smells of sandalwood, of all things. It's obviously used regularly by travelers, but it's empty now. Come on in."
Tugging at Sheng's bridle with all her strength, Troth pulled the donkey into the cave with a clatter of hooves. The area was irregularly shaped but spacious, and dimly lit from a crevice in the hill above. To the left was a fire pit with ashes, and beyond that water flowed down the stone into a convenient little pool.
There was also a small pile of prepared torches. Kyle lit one and began to explore. From the shadowy rear of the cave, he called, "There's a passageway back here. I'm going to check to make sure nothing dangerous is hiding."
"I'm coming, too." Curious, Troth tethered Sheng to a knob of rock and followed Kyle as the passage climbed upward into the hill. She guessed it was a natural tunnel that had been enlarged and smoothed for easy walking. She found out why when Kyle halted ahead of her and gave a soft whistle. "Good God. It's a temple."
Stunned, Kyle studied the carved female image in front of him. Twice the height of a man and illuminated by shafts of light falling from holes in the ceiling high above, it seemed to have been carved from the living stone of the mountain. He wouldn't even try to guess how long ago. A thousand years? Two thousand?
Troth stepped to his side and said softly, "Not 'Good God,' but 'Good Goddess.' " She pressed her hands together in front of her chest and bowed.
"This is Kuan Yin, the Buddhist goddess of mercy and protector of children." In the soft cathedral light, Kuan Yin radiated grace and serenity. Kyle glanced at the drift of dried flowers at the statue's feet. "The local people must come here regularly. Will it be an offense to the goddess and the worshipers if a foreign devil spends the night in the cave below?"
"Kuan Yin is most gracious—I'm sure she won't mind if you stay in her guesthouse." Expression rapt, Troth turned slowly as she absorbed every detail of the shrine. "But this is a sacred space. Can you feel the force of the
chi
?"
He gave her question serious thought, and realized that he did feel…
something. "Is it like the energy of a… a beating heart?" She nodded seriously. "That is one way of describing it.
Chi
is life force. It permeates all existence. There is great power here."
He'd felt similar power in other places, some of them houses of worship, others sites of piercing natural beauty. "Does the power come from centuries of worship, or was it here before the temple?"
"Both, I imagine. This was probably a natural focus of
chi
, and for that reason it was chosen as the site for a temple." Troth's gaze lifted to the dome high above, her expression otherworldly in the pearly light. "I've heard there are many hidden shrines in remote areas, but this is the first I've ever seen. We have been blessed."
Kyle agreed. After bowing respectfully to the goddess, he led the way back down to the guest chamber. When they reached it, Troth said, "I'll bring in some firewood and fodder for the donkey."
"Don't go far. I don't want you caught out there in the dark."
"Believe me, I don't want that either!"
He unsaddled the donkey and set their baggage in a natural alcove near the entrance. Clever Troth had included a couple of coarse blankets, some food, and even a little pan to heat water for tea. They would camp in comfort.
After tethering Sheng in another of the alcoves formed by the irregular walls, he began to rub the donkey down with a rag. Troth returned twice, once with grasses for Sheng and the other time with a pile of firewood. He glanced out at the darkened sky. "Last trip. If we don't have enough wood, we'll do without."
She laid down the kindling, then brushed wood chips from her sleeves.
"Agreed."
He lifted the ruggedly built wooden grate he'd found while exploring.
"We aren't the only ones to worry about tigers. See how brackets have been installed to lock this in place over the entrance?"
"The Lady takes care of her own."
With the grate safely in place, Kyle stripped off his bandages and wig. The disguise was an infernal nuisance, as was acting like a feeble old man, but the relief of returning to himself was almost worth it. Taking off the disguise gave him an inkling of what it must feel like to be Troth, who'd spent fifteen years trapped in a disguise that wasn't of her choosing. No wonder she yearned for Britain and life as a woman.
They divided their chores in companionable silence and settled down to eat, each of them using a folded blanket to soften the irregular stone floor. Kyle couldn't remember when he'd felt so content.
After their simple meal, he said pensively, "Many years from now, when I'm old and gray and boring, I'll think back on this night and remember how lucky I've been."
"Lucky?"
He gestured at their surroundings with his small teacup. "I'm dining in a fascinating, mysterious place in a land beyond the sunrise, and enjoying the company of a lovely and remarkable young woman. As a boy I dreamed of such adventures."
She glanced down, uncomfortable. She'd heard European traders in Macao flattering their ladies. The compliments were charming, but meaningless. "Is that why you became a traveler—for the adventure?"
"Only in part." His gaze became distant. "Even in the nursery I was intrigued by the globe and its empty, unexplored places. On the very old maps, they'd say things like 'Here be dragons.' Yet though I yearned to see the dragons, I think the deeper reason I wanted to travel was to… to find out who I really was."
She smiled a little. "You're not Kyle Renbourne, Viscount Maxwell and heir to the Earl of Wrexham?"
"That was the obvious part." He leaned forward and divided the last of the tea between their cups. "But so much was expected of me that I was never sure what I wanted for myself. For years I envied my brother. Since he was younger, he was much freer than I—yet he would have traded his freedom for my responsibilities in a heartbeat."
"The pair of you sound like donkeys tugging at your ropes for the grass beyond your reach."
He chuckled. "Exactly. Eventually, with the help of Constancia, I realized that many of the chains I wore were of my own forging. After she died, I threw them off and started on the road that has led here."
"Have you discovered what you truly want along the way?"
"It's ironic. I used to feel trapped by the demands of running a great estate and the knowledge that eventually I must take a seat in the House of Lords and make decisions about the fate of the nation. Yet now I rather look forward to both. There will always be new challenges, and I think I'll serve my tenants and countrymen well." He gave a self-deprecatory laugh. "That sounds rather pompous, doesn't it?"
She studied the strong lines of his face, thinking he could never be pompous, much less boring. "My father said that the motto of Mary, Queen of Scots, was 'In my end, I find my beginning.' That's what you've done—
gone 'round the world to discover that your destiny lies where you began. You're fortunate."
"In most ways." His face darkened, and she knew he was thinking of Constancia.
"Though you won't have the love of your life, you'll have your home, your family, your destiny," she said quietly. "I envy you." His expression softened. "I shall help you find a home in Britain." Their gazes met over the dying flames. She wished she could believe that the warmth in his eyes was love, but she was not such a fool. He liked her, and he desired her because it was the nature of men to desire women, but his offer was the helping hand of a friend. "At least I won't have to be a man or a spy there."
She set down her empty cup and stood, stretching her tired muscles before she removed her outer garments and the money belt he'd given her. She'd sleep in the lightweight tunic and trousers she wore underneath. Kyle was similarly attired. She watched surreptitiously as he pulled off his outer clothing, his muscles stretching the fabric of his undergarments. She hoped he'd suggest they spread their blankets together, but he didn't. Suppressing a sigh, she lit one of the torches in the fire, then climbed up to the shrine. There she knelt in front of Kuan Yin. There was just enough light to show the goddess's faint, compassionate smile as Troth uttered a wordless prayer:
Lady, I know this man is not for me. His heart has been taken,
he is as far above my station as the sun is above the clouds, and his honor
forbids him to dally when desire is not fueled by love. But you are the goddess of
feminine truth and power. If there is a way for us to come together, even if only
for an hour, please let it happen. I swear that I will not ask for more of either you
or him
.
Then she closed her eyes and became still. A thread of energy pulsed through her, beginning with warmth and soon bubbling into joy as she realized what she must do. As a man of honor, he did not wish to injure a feeble, innocent female, so she must convince him that no injury would be done. And, if Ling-Ling was to be believed, a man was most easily persuaded when his desire was engaged.