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Authors: Michaela Clarke
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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 everythingwas 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 clutchedat 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. “Iremember 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.
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 everythingwas 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 clutchedat 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. “Iremember 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.
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