Free Tiger Hills by Sarita Mandanna Page A

She opened her mouth to retort, but Machu stepped in before she could say anything. “Leave it be,” he said, dimpling at the women. “My little friend here doesn’t seem terribly impressed, but then we can’t please everybody, can we?” He winked at Devi, and she found herself grinning foolishly at him. “Ayy, Devanna,” Machu continued, “is your friend always such a tigress?” The tall girl began to protest, and he shook his head. “Come now. Enough. She is but a child.”
    Devi froze in horror, the smile wiped from her face. Had he just called her a child? Still chuckling, Machu turned to leave, shepherding his entourage.
    The tent was now silent except for the tortured creaking of the bamboo frame as the dead tiger swung slowly above their heads. Devi bit her lip, close to tears. Beside her, Devanna took a deep, deliberate breath. “Did your head suddenly turn inside out?” he asked. “Why were you so rude?”
    He had called her a child. She bent to pick up a jasmine bud that had fallen from the garland about Machu’s neck.
    â€œDevi, I am talking to you. What madness got hold of you that you had to be so rude?”
    Devi closed her palm about the bud and whirled upon the startled Devanna. “Just leave me alone! Why don’t you go pester him instead, your newfound cousin and his group of clucking hens?” She rushed off, ignoring the hurt in Devanna’s eyes. “Where is my father? I want to go home.”
    She slept fitfully that night, Tayi’s breath whistling in her ears. She was withdrawn all through the journey the next day as well, unaware of the anxious glances from Tayi and the others. When the bullock cart finally turned into the courtyard of the Nachimanda house, to Muthavva’s pleased surprise Devi flung herself silently into her arms.
    â€œWhat’s this?” Muthavva murmured, kissing her daughter’s head. “Missed me, did you?” Devi said nothing, but burrowed her head deeper into Muthavva’s neck.
    As Muthavva tucked her into bed that night, Devi asked, “Avvaiah … when will I get married?”
    Muthavva flicked her daughter’s cheek affectionately. “Why? Are you in such a hurry to leave your mother?”
    â€œDon’t make jokes, Avvaiah. How long before I have my own wedding?”
    â€œWell, let’s see now. First, you have to be a good child and listen to your mother. And then when you come of age and are a graceful, well-mannered young woman, we will find you a boy from a good family and have a grand wedding for you, how is that?”
    Devi shook her head impatiently. “Avvaiah, I am not a little girl. And I will marry only Machu anna.”
    â€œWho?” Muthavva asked, bewildered.
    â€œThe tiger killer … Machu anna, Devanna’s cousin. I will marry him.”
    Muthavva laughed. “Cheh. What foolishness is this? Little girls shouldn’t talk this way; it doesn’t become them. Besides, if you call him anna, that makes him your brother, not your husband.”
    â€œMark my words, Avvaiah. I will marry Machu.”
    Muthavva gazed at her daughter’s face in the lamplight and felt a strange chill down her spine. She became brisk. “Donkey girl. Enough of this nonsense. Go to sleep.”
    She tightened the amulet on Devi’s arm, trying to stay her sense of disquiet by checking and rechecking the knots. Finally satisfied that the amulet was securely fastened, Muthavva lowered the lamp and, kissing Devi’s forehead, left the room.
    Behind her, Devi stared through the window into the clear, starlit night. Beneath the blanket, her fists were curled into little balls, her nails pressing into the skin. She thought again of the tiger wedding, and of the bridegroom.
    â€œOnly him,” she repeated to herself. “I will marry only Machu.”

Chapter 6

    1891
    S unlight streamed through the open doors, pooling over