Tiger, Tiger - Lynne Banks Reid

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of course.’

      ‘Did Your Honour give permission for him to be alone with my young lady?’ she asked sharply.

      ‘Yes, yes,’ he said irritably. ‘Why not? She must have someone with her until we are sure the creature is tame. In any case, all her servants are close at hand.’

      This wasn’t entirely true. Aurelia’s personal staff – chiefly female – were in hiding. They were frightened of Boots, even if Aurelia wasn’t. In the event of a mishap they would have been quite useless. The Empress, suddenly alerted by the nurse’s questions, guessed that.

      ‘I want there to be guards. Not just that boy. Older men, with weapons.’

      He hesitated. He was watching with satisfaction and pride the fearless way the princess was now chasing the cub, trying to wrest the toy back from him. She held it boldly in both hands, close to his mouth, and tugged it while the cub growled playfully and braced his big, covered feet.

      ‘Whatever you wish, my love. Give what orders you think fit. Of course we should take no chances.’

      ‘Of any sort,’ murmured the nurse, her eyes on the young keeper’s well-muscled torso and handsome, bronzed face.

      Caesar walked out of the shadows into the sunlight. Aurelia saw him and ran to him. The moment her back was turned to the cub he began to stalk her. The young keeper instantly leapt forward to put his hand restrainingly on the cub’s neck.

      ‘Pata! Thank you! He is wonderful. I love him so much!’

      ‘And you’re not afraid of him?’

      ‘Not a bit!’ She turned in his arms. ‘Oh, do look at him, how sweet he is! And I’ve named him Boots. What do you think of that?’

      He laughed. ‘An excellent choice,’ he said.

      The nurse sniffed and folded her arms. ‘Silly name for a tiger,’ she muttered.

      ‘Oh, Nurse, don’t be against him! Come and stroke him!’

      ‘I will not. I am not foolish, whatever others may be,’ she said.

      ‘Caesar, may I speak?’ said the keeper, after bowing.

      ‘Yes, what is it?’ asked the Emperor.

      ‘He needs a collar.’

      ‘Oh yes!’ cried Aurelia. ‘A beautiful one, with jewels on it! And I need a lead for him, too!’

      ‘Well thought of.’ Caesar clapped his hands, and at once one of his own slaves, who always attended him, ran forward.

      ‘A collar for my daughter’s tiger. Bejewelled, as she said. Order it from the leather shop. A leash, too. Tooled with gold leaf.’ He hugged Aurelia tightly. He couldn’t restrain his pride in the success of his gift, at her courageous receiving of it.

      The Empress watched the scene, narrow-eyed, anxious. The tiger cub already looked large and menacing in her eyes. She still thought the whole thing was folly of the worst kind. She exchanged glances of anxiety with the nurse.

      But apart from engaging guards, there was nothing she could do.

       Chapter Four

       VISITS

      ‘Boots! Yes, that silly name just suits him. He’s not a tiger, not him! He’s a pussycat. Here, puss puss puss! Here, tiggy-wiggy-woggy, come and play pussy games with Relia!’

      Aurelia’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

      She was entertaining – most unwillingly – a ‘friend’, except that he wasn’t, he was a stupid little bore and a maddening nuisance. His name was Marcus and he was her ten-year-old cousin.

      ‘Don’t tease him,’ she ordered sharply, as the cub showed signs of being about to investigate Marcus’s wriggling fingers, pretending to be a large spider scuttling on the floor.

      ‘I will tease him, and you too,’ said Marcus. ‘What’ve you done to him? Call that a wild animal? He’s about as fierce as one of your silly birds. Tweet-tweet, Bootsie, come to Pata!’ The cub obligingly pounced on the ‘spider’ and sank his teeth into it. But carefully. He knew better by now than to bite seriously. One or two hard bites, in the early days, had resulted in sharp blows on the head and scoldings from his keeper.

      Still, even a gentle bite from a tiger cub is not nothing. Marcus let out a yell and snatched his hand out of the cub’s mouth.

      Aurelia grinned broadly. ‘I hope that’ll teach you a lesson, you nasty little tease,’ she said unfeelingly as he sucked his hand. Seeing him fighting tears, she relented and went to look, taking his hand in hers and examining the indentations that were rapidly turning into bruises. ‘Ffff! Poor old you. Does it hurt?’

      ‘He ought to be whipped,’ said Marcus sullenly, more humiliated than hurt.

      She dropped his hand. ‘Oh, pooh. It’s nothing much. He bites me all the time when we’re playing. Look!’ She showed some little regular bruises on her forearm where Boots had been playing a bit more roughly than usual.

      ‘I heard he’d had all his teeth taken out.’

      ‘Only his fangs.’

      ‘Hah! Lost his fangs, eh? How can a tiger be a tiger without fangs?’

      ‘Well, you’re lucky, he might have bitten your hand right off and run away with it, if he’d had them!’ retorted Aurelia, sitting down on the ground and calling the cub to her. He crawled to her on his belly and lay with his head in her lap while she petted and soothed him. His tail twitched gently. ‘Look,’ she said, ‘he’s saying “I love being with you.” I can understand nearly everything he tells me now!’

      Marcus watched her, full of envy. Though he would have died rather than admit it, he was a bit afraid of the tiger. He had to stop her knowing that.

      ‘Let’s play circus with him!’ he said.

      ‘No.’

      ‘Why not? All you ever do is kiss and pet him!’

      ‘That’s not true. I play with him.’

      ‘But not real games, only silly kitten-games. We should pretend he’s a wild beast in the arena, pitted against a gladiator—’

      ‘That would be you, no doubt,’ said Aurelia sarcastically.

      ‘Yes it would! I know how to fight like a gladiator, with a net and trident, or a sword – my father’s not like yours, refusing to take you to the circus, mine takes me quite often! Here, you, lend me your sword!’ he said suddenly to the young keeper, who had a short sword in his belt.

      Julius’s hand flew to it instinctively.

      ‘I’m sorry, Master Marcus, but my sword never leaves me. Besides, it’s sharp. You might hurt someone with it.’

      Marcus faced him boldly. His rank was so far above Julius’s that he felt unassailably superior to him.

      ‘Do as you’re told,’ he shouted, ‘or I’ll have you flogged!’

      Julius looked over the boy’s shoulder at Aurelia. Aurelia was watching, but she didn’t intervene.

      ‘I have no leave from the Emperor to give you my sword. It’s not a plaything.’

      The boy flushed crimson with rage. He flung himself on to Julius and began trying to wrest the sword from his belt. Julius was in a quandary. He held the furious boy away, but he was frightened of what the consequences might be of defying a direct order from the son of a senator, let alone manhandling him.

      ‘Princess!’

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