Mark of the Cat and Year of the Rat

  At foot of the ramp was a very small landing, but to the left another opening broke the wall. It was from there that the green light issued. With Kassca I at last found myself on a ledge of rock, which bordered a stream of flowing water, moving from right to left into a misty distance. I chose the right and started on, shivering in the cold damp which permeated this rocky tunnel.

  Water in such a quantity was startling even to one who was accustomed to Valapa’s many pools, it being considered the most fruitful and favored of the Queendoms. The fitful greenish light appeared to emit from the curtains of slime along the further wall and I had to watch my footing, as there were many trails of the same growth across this way.

  Kassca shook one foot after another and spat until I gathered her up in one arm. The dank moisture continued to cloak us, but I was determined to see where this walk led. I was sure that we were well below the level of the city streets and I watched carefully along the wall to my right for any hint of another exit.

  “Ahead,” Kassca’s thought came in warning.

  There was a stronger light there but the sound of the river drowned out all else. My pace slowed even more but I came on. Then I was startled by a wild ululating howl. The river beside me took a turn, which the walkway followed.

  I was startled even more by the cries of raging cats. Kassca’s ears flattened and she hissed, her tail beating against my ribs.

  Some distance ahead broad steps descended to the river. One of the bubble lights had brought greater illumination to the scene. At the top of the steps two great cats rolled, roaring in rage, biting at green strands that bound them as strongly as ropes. Murri and Akeea!

  On the lowest step was Hynkkel-ji, a hunting spear in one hand and two heavy weights connected by a chain in the other.

  CHAPTER 8

  Allitta:

  Rising breast-high out of the water was a creature from some foul dream. Its skin was the same greenish gray of the water, pitted with great ulcers. It raised one arm and pointed a long, taloned finger at the invaders. From the arm depended a stringy fringe of thick grayish hair, matching the rough mass that covered the head. Eyes, like white balls, protruded blindly. There wafted from it a putrid stench, strong enough to reach me. Stronger still was the sense of utter malignancy it projected.

  It screamed and threw a ball dripping slime. Hynkkel-ji struck it aside with his spear, cutting it in half. Lines of glowing green reached out of it for him. The tip of one touched his calf and instantly plastered itself around his leg. He cried out and nearly stumbled into the water, but righted himself in time.

  He was able to dodge a second ball, which struck against the stone and loosed more streamers. One of these reached the cats, bringing cries of pain and fury from them.

  Hynkkel-ji whirled the chain-hung ball weapon about his head and launched it at the creature. There was a singing note as it caught the arm of the monster, slamming that back against its head and neck.

  Now Hynkkel-ji raised his spear. The creature was rocking back and forth beyond his touch. Loud yowls came from the cats.

  I could not just stand by and watch. Putting Kassca down I ran as fast as I could along the slippery walk. The screams of the creature, the roars of the cats echoed and reechoed in the confined passage, deafening one.

  The thing was pulled forward by the weight of the balls, their uniting chain cutting into its flesh. With its one free hand it held another huge glob of slime. It was plain that the band scoring Hynkkel-ji’s leg hindered his movements, but he crouched and again raised his spear. With the speed and skill of an outlands hunter he struck just as I reached the cats.

  Hynkkel-ji:

  My spear struck true; blackish blood fountained towards me and I slipped forward, unable to free my weapon. One foot touched the water churned up as the monster weaved back and forth. Those baleful eyes were fixed on me. Over my shoulder came a spear point.

  In my need I clutched at its shaft and steadied myself until I was able to draw myself back on the step. My enemy had staggered nearly to my perch. From it came a mind thrust massively stronger than any I had ever met. I staggered again. The creature might be dying but was still intent on me—to make the coming death a double one.

  I ventured a quick glance behind—who had come to my rescue? Allitta! I had kept my hold on her spear and now I jerked it out of her grasp. Claws caught at my leg, burning still from the wrap of slime. I steadied myself to thrust even as I had once done at a crazed yaksen threatening our herd.

  Perhaps the water thing trod on some uncertain footing; perhaps it was too intent upon getting at me. The tip of the spear penetrated its nearest eye. Weighted by the chain and balls, it went down and the turgid water closed over it. My borrowed spear ready, I waited but it did not appear.

  Now that I had time to inspect it, I realized that the slime had eaten through my boot and I felt as if my skin had been torched. Getting groggily to my feet I managed my way up the steps to stand once more on the ledge where I held out the spear to Allitta.

  “Well met, Lady of Vurope.”

  She accepted her weapon, then gestured to where the water thing has sunk out of sight.

  “Well fought, August One.”

  “We have much to discuss,” I returned. “But first I must deal with my loyal ones—”

  Murri and Akeea were panting, tearing at their fur where the slime had tightened. They must be seen to as soon as possible. Allitta came with me and the Kotti followed as we stood over the poor cats.

  The shop of the Doll Maker in Valapa:

  Ravinga was not to be seen. Her salesman, a small fellow who walked with a limp, was showing two women a doll at the far end of the room. Melora gave her attention to the cases and wall displays near the door. As ever when she visited Ravinga she was speedily lost in wonder at the workmanship which had produced the dolls in the glass-fronted cases on the walls and in the standing ones which sectioned the room. She moved slowly, viewing the wall display.

  The floor cases reached above her head and she went unobserved by the other customers. It was at the sound of her brother’s name that she halted to listen.

  “—Hynkkel-ji—She believes he will meekly submit to her ordering of his life.” There was a sneer coloring the words.

  Melora was not ignorant of those courtiers who watched her brother closely, intent upon catching him in some gauche blunder. That he was very aware himself of that contemptuous appraisal of his every appearance, she had guessed. Anger possessed her each time she heard the belittling gossip, though she made no sign.

  “The girl is very young,” a second voice commented.

  “But attractive in a childish way.” Returned the other. “And this nobody out of nowhere could not have hoped to speak to her had he not been so oddly elevated to a position he can never hope to fill rightfully.”

  Melora’s hand curled into a fist. She had always fought to control her temper—the Essence knew that that temper was part of the inheritance of her House. Except for Hynkkel. He never lost control, no matter how they had ill-used him. However he had survived the testing for the crown, which meant he possessed all the courage her father and Kalikku had always denied him.

  “The Queen is clever; no one can deny that. But will the girl come in heat? She is so young and is of a retiring nature.”

  “You have said it; Yuikala is clever. It is whispered—very softly, of course, that heat can be manipulated to appear—using certain methods—”

  “But—that is against the Law of the Essence!” broke in the other.

  “If it is done with the kind of secrecy the Queen can command, her meddling with custom will never be known.”

  “I would not like to assume such a debt before the Essence—it can well bring disaster.”

  “We shall see. The Emperor is to go on Progress. I think that Yuikala will see he has the Companion of her choice when he does that, that Berneen will be so hailed in each Queendom. Ah,” the voice was raised, “thank you for suggesting that
coffer, Mancol.”

  The shopkeeper must have gone and now returned. Melora was sure they would not have talked so openly had he been there. She stood very still. Let them leave soon and might the Essence help her to keep her presence here a secret.

  They went indeed. Unfortunately, without moving into a position where she would be seen, she could not in turn see them. But she was certain that they were of the Diamond Court.

  “Hail, sister of the Emperor.” Ravinga came into view at the end of the case-walled way.

  “Hail, Mistress of arts,” Melora waved towards the displays. “Such a wealth of beauty I have never seen except here.”

  She followed Ravinga into the back room. Then she halted not far from the door. On the worktable stood three figures. One—it was perfect—Hynkkel might have been reduced by some power. And that one was Allitta—between them the great Sand Cat Murri.

  As she stared words came to her mind, as if one of the figures had somehow whispered in her ear.

  “Water—’ware the slime—the spear—use it well!”

  Misty half shadows—Hynkkel, Allitta, Murri—writhing in bonds—and before them a creature, which was not of Melora’s world—and she had hunted far across the Outer Regions.

  The mist faded. She thought she saw a spear raised and then all was gone.

  Melora still gazed at the dolls. These words she had heard—she could not connect them with anything she knew. Water—much water—and a thing coming from it to attack—Allitta—Hynkkel facing it—Hynkkel bringing it down.

  At last she raised her head to look to the doll maker.

  “You have great power—these things,” she gestured to the dolls, “spoke of a thing that was—or will be.”

  Melora turned one of her jeweled wristbands around. Now she slipped it off, placing it near the Hynkkel doll. “Is it that only dolls may report to you so? Is the power within them?”

  Ravinga picked up the wristband, held it for a moment as if weighing it.

  “This is your work?” At Melora’s nod she continued. “You made one such for Hynkkel. Very well, this I have not tried before but perhaps it can be done. You may work here—I have the tools and the materials. Fashion another such and it may keep you in touch with your brother when he goes on Progress. There are those in Valapa who will hold to their oaths of allegiance; they might be rallied. But it is well to make use of any device we can think of.

  “All of the Outer Regions will be hard tested very soon.”

  Hynkkel-ji:

  With the edge of Allitta’s spear and both our personal knives we worked to free the cats. As the slime ribbons fell away they pulled patches of fur with them. And the skin beneath showed raw and bloody. We had to work carefully making sure we did not touch the slime. Allitta had carefully freed me from the one wrapped about my leg. I bit my lip and did all I could not to show pain. The leather of my boot was soggy, and, as the cats’ fur it came away. My flesh looked as if I had been branded.

  As we worked we talked, sharing knowledge. I learned of her discovery of these lower ways and she learned of mine. She was certain that some enemy knew of the passage to the water from her home and that had led to extinction of most of her family. I suggested that this secret flow of water was somehow allied to the great Dry of the past when some of our people had been ruthlessly harvested that others might survive.

  “I must go on Progress,” I plied my knife on a last patch of Murri’s fur, having warned both cats not to lick their hurts after their usual manner, promising healing ointments once we were aloft again. “It would be well, since we share this secret, that you be one of our party.”

  “It will depend up on the Queen’s will.”

  “No! It depends on mine. What does it mean to be called ‘August One’ if I can not have my will now and then?”

  She had lowered her head as if to view more closely one of the bloody seams on Akeea’s body. “Will it not be a matter for remark if I am so singled out?”

  “It is customary for an Emperor to have a Companion—” I began, seeing only the value of such a cover for continued close relationship.

  She sat back on her heels, slamming her knife back into its sheath.

  “It is customary for the Emperor to have a Companion,” she repeated. She might have summoned the curtain of a sand storm to fall between us.

  I realized than how my thoughtless statement may have sounded to her. Without being conscious of it I put out my hand. My fingers barely touched her arm before she jerked further away.

  “Please believe,” I felt as awkward as I had always been in my father’s house, “I meant no disrespect—” It was difficult to find words which might soften my arrogant suggestion.

  “There is this—consider, please, what I say—You have shown me the map of the waterways—or such we believe it to be. It is necessary to discover whether access to these might be found in each Queendom. Perhaps in the past each had more water—or less. If the supply can be controlled, it must be discovered how and who would do it. Can you face the Lord of Measurement to again cull the old and the very young as mercilessly as was done in the past? I do not want the secret to be made public until I can trust—and trusting comes hard.

  “This demands trust from us both. If you travel with the Progress, it would be best that we share the outward seeming of a relationship until our purpose is complete. Then all shall know the reason for what we have done. I ask of you no intimacy, only that we be as battle comrades even as we have been this night.”

  “I am not in heat,” she replied sharply. “How then can I claim such a relationship?”

  Being largely ignorant of the ways of women I could not indeed answer that. I remembered my younger sister’s mating feast when she had come into heat. Being her sibling I had not been attracted to her, yet a number of young males appeared and vied for her attention until she made her choice. Perhaps Allitta was right, if there were no signs of her status she could not be selected as Companion.

  Now she stood, looking coldly at me. At last she spoke, “You have given me much to think on, now give me time to do so.”

  She left me, carrying her Kotti. There was nothing I could do but agree.

  In the outlands at the outlaw camp:

  They had found this rock isle uninhabited though there was a healthy pool with a fine stock of algae. Shank-ji took this discovery as a sign that the Essence was indeed favoring him. And reinforcements continued to ride in.

  So far not even the rats had found them. They had ample supplies, given by the people of Kahulawe when they had escorted in the remnant of the caravan to that Queendom. That had indeed established them as guardians of the trails. He sipped at a cup of melon-wine. It had been very easy to blacken this jumped-up servant there—it was the fellow’s own home and he certainly had not gained any supporters—they knew him for what he was.

  Sooner or later this upstart would have to make the Progress. Of course he would travel with guards, perhaps even the leopards, if they would serve one who outwardly supported Sand Cats. But there should be chances to get at him, there surely would!

  “Commander!”

  Shank-ji looked around. It was that brash youngster Kalikku, brother to the imposter. He had his uses but certainly he would not be included in the inner council of the next emperor.

  “Yes?” he acknowledged lazily.

  “There comes a rider—from the north.”

  “Another who wishes to serve the right—they come now as they should.”

  “Captain, this one is different—”

  The boy seemed excited. Had he recognized some one of rank who should be greeted formally? Shank-ji set aside his cup and got to his feet.

  CHAPTER 9

  A messenger from Desolation:

  A shrill whistle sounded—the outer sentry was alert. This newcomer was strange. Shank-ji swung up to a higher point of rock, where he could view the new arrival for himself.

  The rider did not wear the puffed wig-helm of a
warrior. Instead he was hooded and cloaked by folds of gray, dabbed here and there with splotches of black. If this was meant to bewilder the eye it did not work here, for it stood out boldly against the yellows and browns of the desert.

  Shank-ji held up his hand, clicked two fingers together—the sound would not carry far but was an order. He heard a scrambling sound and knew that a guard was forming at the rock incline by which one could reach the ragged crest of the isle.

  Now their leader was able to sight differences in the rider’s mount. It was like a oryxen, yes. However it was larger and three instead of two horns burdened its head. The stranger had swung towards the incline as if he well knew where their camp was and felt no uneasiness in approaching it.

  Shank-ji watched. His command were crouched behind outcrops of rock, concealed from sight.

  That bundling of cloak did indeed serve as a mask. Still the stranger moved with ease, or perhaps he left it to his mount to pick a way.

  Several lengths from where the hidden warriors lay the oryxen came to a halt. The masked rider did not urge it on; he merely sat waiting. Shank-ji was suddenly sure that somehow this visitor knew very well that he was within weapon distance of hidden men.

  When both mount and rider continued to wait, Shank-ji decided that boldness was the answer. He could not see any weapon in the other’s hold, though what could be concealed under that cloak was a matter for guessing.

  Arising from his own hiding place, Shank-ji came into the open, facing the rider. He held up his single hand, palm outward, in traditional sign of peace. There came no answer, either with gesture or voice, from the other. Playing games! Shank-ji was irritated. Did this one out of the desert believe that he would be awed so? Yet to speak first might well belittle the speaker and that was not to be thought of. If this was to be a trial of patience he would display his own stock of such virtue.

  A sharp whistle again from a sentry—was this rider only the scout of a larger force? Movement at the foot of the climb—rats!

  Shank-ji surrendered any advantage continued silence might give.