The Tiger at Midnight (The Tiger at Midnight Trilogy #1)(17)

“I’m sure one of your servants will be in soon and untie you. Let this be a lesson. Don’t lie to me again,” Esha said, before stuffing a short piece of cloth into his mouth.

His muffled shouts filled the room as she slung her pack across her chest and climbed out the window.





Chapter 9


Kunal moved about his room, packing his things with quick precision as Alok watched. He had recruited his friend to help him gather as much information as possible that afternoon before he left—stories, rumors, tall tales, anything.

One of the first things he’d been taught during his Senap training was that all information had a pattern. Now if only he could find the Viper’s pattern.

“Throw in some paper. And chalk,” Alok said, his gaze tight with worry.

Kunal raised an eyebrow. “Paper and chalk? Do you think I’m going on a leisure trip to the mountains?”

“No, you daft ox. But you will make the time to keep me apprised of what’s going on. I don’t trust the reports from anyone else.” Alok frowned. “I may not act like it all the time, but let’s not forget who’s older here. If something happened to you . . . well, I’m as good as next of kin. So don’t be a pillock, and write me. Use the messenger hawks that always seem to love you.”

Kunal paused, considering Alok’s words. He was right. Without General Hotha, Alok was basically the only one left at the Fort who would care if something happened to him.

“I will. I promise,” Kunal said with sincerity. The tension from Alok’s shoulders lifted, as did his expression. “Though I’m not sure why you’re not bothering Laksh as well.”

“I tried already.” A cloud passed over Alok’s face, but it shifted so quickly that Kunal blinked, thinking he had imagined it.

“Anyway.” He slapped Kunal on the back. “For a man facing almost certain death, you don’t look too worried.”

Kunal grimaced at him. “Thinking that I’m facing certain death might change that, so let’s go with a man looking to avenge his uncle’s honor.” Alok snorted. Kunal continued, hoping to get him off his back. “And a man who plans to return as your commander. Maybe then I can get a proper lock on my door and some privacy,” he muttered.

Alok looked at him with dawning comprehension. “So, that’s your play. I didn’t think you’d have something like that in you. Gods above, do you actually want to be commander? Or is this just your uncle talking?”

Kunal shrugged. “If this is to be my home for most of my life, I may as well have a role in leading it. Steering it in the right direction.” He didn’t mention that his words were ones taken almost directly from his uncle.

It was his duty to take over at the Fort, to honor their family.

Kunal had heard it so many times he could whisper it while drowning.

He knew what “steering the Fort in the right direction” meant to his uncle, but he had yet to fully determine what it meant to him. There were ideas, small hopes and inklings of changes that he believed he could make, but Kunal was hoping this journey would bring clarity.

Kunal remembered the tales his mother had told him of the Jansan army, the warriors of old, made in the image of Naria, the just and strong twin. That army had been revered, unlike now.

Maybe it was a dream, but as commander he could lead the army back to that era.

A whistle came from Alok, cutting through his thoughts. “I’m impressed. I thought you were doing this for some ridiculous sense of loyalty to your uncle. He was a strong general but he did you no favors.”

“Of course, I am—” He stopped, realizing it would be easier to get Alok to stop worrying if he thought Kunal was doing this for himself. And Kunal couldn’t deny that his uncle had been hard, didn’t even want to deny that. “It’s both, Alok. Honor and ambition. It’s what I have now.”

“Anyway, was any of the information we collected useful?” Alok asked.

“I thought it would simply be a collection of scattered and unhelpful stories. But I’ve noticed some patterns.”

Alok raised an eyebrow and Kunal began ticking off each with his fingers. “One, the Viper works alone—that seems to be a theme in every report. No official affiliation with the Crescent Blades or any of the other rebel groups. There are suspicions, but the Blades have never hesitated to recognize one of their agents, especially one who’s created as much havoc as the Viper. Two, there are no clear depictions of the Viper’s face and he often disappears quickly after a mission, which tells me he’s the type of person who doesn’t stand out. And finally, two whips.”

Kunal paused, and Alok scooted closer. “That means stealth. The Viper relies on speed and stealth rather than brute force.”

Alok let out a low whistle. “So, basically, you should have listened to me and not agreed to this crazy mission?”

Kunal looked to the skies and ignored him, tucking away rations he had left over from his last mission in the west.

“Fine, ignore me,” Alok said. “You know, I was talking to Zane and he said he saw someone last night.”

Kunal’s head whipped around. “And you waited this long to mention it? I thought you wanted me to stay alive.”

“Yes, for some reason.” Alok rolled his eyes. “I had forgotten because it seemed like such a useless piece of information. He was drunker than a trader at the Moon Festival. It showed—he said he saw a girl.”