Mark of the Cat and Year of the Rat

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Mark of the Cat and Year of the Rat Page 25

by Andre Norton


  “That,” and she pointed to the golden cat. “Put it away carefully for it is now a thing to be guarded.”

  She staggered and I would have gone to aid her but she fended me off with one arm. “I but need rest, Allitta. Rest before our guests arrive.”

  Our guests came with such an escort as this quarter of the city seldom sees, unless there is some dire trouble between Houses and some assassin has chosen to flee hither. For it was a detachment of the Queen’s own guard which brought Hynkkel back to our doors. Beside him openly paced Murri, the Sand Cat, whose life I would have thought would have been forfeit the moment he appeared within range of any of our proud hunters.

  The warriors did not follow Hynkkel into our small court. I very much disliked the idea that they had come even to the end of the short way which opened into it.

  I am free of many of Ravinga’s secrets, if not all, and some of those are such one would not want to be discovered by any in authority. That she was engaged in some great plan which had many parts and reached far up into certain Houses as well as down into the company of those who seldom slunk forth in the bright light of day—that I was well aware of and had been for many seasons now. That I was part of her plan was also clear to me and I did not resent it.

  There has always been a thirst in me for learning and while Ravinga was a figure of awe, she was also a ready teacher. If with her one craft overlaid another, then I was all the richer for being admitted, even if only into the fringes of her planning.

  I sighted Hynkkel’s arrival from our own private lookout and hurried down to open the shop door before he had a chance to knock. Mancol sat on his stool behind the counter unmoving. I wondered, as I had many times, what the old man knew, what he guessed. However, that he was devotedly loyal to Ravinga I had known from the start of my own introduction to this place.

  Hynkkel entered, behind him Murri. There was a rustling past my skirt as our three kottis pushed forward. I raised hand in greeting to the man, they went to touch noses with the beast.

  In the light I saw the black blot which near covered the palm of the hand he had raised in answer to me. Something had been branded there into his flesh. In other ways he was changed. There were new lines in his narrow face, a strange sense of power learned and used clung to him. I knew its like from my life with Ravinga. This one had gone in strange places and had wrought well there.

  “To the House be welcome. To the hearth fire come safely. Under this roof know all are friends.” I repeated the formal greeting mechanically.

  He smiled and that erased from his face some of that power sign.

  “To the House be all honor. I accept what is given with a heart of cheer.” That return, in its last words, appeared to be more than just formal. There was a warmth in it which suggested that indeed he found comfort here.

  The door was safely closed now against all prying eyes—though why that thought crossed my mind at that moment I could not have said. That we were not overlooked by any of the guard, as blandly innocent as our meeting was, seemed to be a thing to be desired.

  Once more I brought him into the room prepared for him. As he laid aside his staff I saw the better that new brand on his palm—the head of a leopard. I did not know its meaning—save perhaps it signified that so far he had overcome and survived in triumph the tasks set him.

  His Kifongg sat against the wall and now he stooped to take it in hand, sweeping his fingers across the strings.

  “Well and skillfully tuned.” He glanced at me with another smile. “I thank you for this courtesy, Allitta—”

  I shrugged. As always I felt stiff and even suspicious with this man and I almost distrusted that Ravinga had woven him so tightly into her web. He was comely enough, if slight of body, certainly no match for any of the young warriors of Great Houses. But what did he matter to me? I had had my fill of those standing higher in the world, more resplendent than he—and I had found them very hollow beneath all their fine showing.

  “A good instrument needs attention,” I said with all the indifference I could summon. “My lady will be with us later: she labored late.”

  He nodded as I stepped back from the doorway to let Murri past and then I went to the kitchen, intent on preparing such a meal as would tempt Ravinga after her ordeal, as well as satisfy these guests whose purpose in our lives I could not puzzle out.

  27

  The lamplight lay across the table and I found it oddly welcoming. This was a room in which I felt at home—in spite of the fact that the girl by the fireplace showed me always so cold a face. But by the rest, I was cheered, experiencing a warmth which came, not from the outside, but from within.

  If Allitta gave no welcome, I received it from Ravinga, and it was mainly to her I told the story of my ordeals. On the bench at the other end of the table sat the three black kottis and it was as if they listened too and understood each word I said, or perhaps they gained their knowledge in some manner through Murri, who lay at ease on the floor in that complete relaxation of his own kind.

  The Kifongg rested on my knees. Now and then my fingertips brought a note or two from it. Then I realized that I was following the actions of a bard delivering a message.

  The story took us well past nightfall. I had eaten of the wholesome fare the dollmaker had provided and still had a tankard of fex juice by my hand to wet down my throat as I talked. Then I became aware that Allitta had left her place by the fire and had come to the bench which she shared with the kottis.

  “Thus have I won so far,” I concluded.

  “So far,” Ravinga echoed. “There remains—the gaining of the crown.”

  I had tried to put that out of mind for a space, for I knew very well that this end test was indeed the trickiest and most demanding. How a man might ever gain the height to free the crown with those swinging, knife-edge plaques hung all at different lengths was something I could not understand. Now I felt chilled in spite of the welcome warmth of the room.

  Each of the trials had threatened death. I thought that I had faced that fact. Now I discovered that fear still was my shadow.

  I placed the harp on the table and looked down at the hands on which the guardian had set his mark. Then, as if pulled by a power beyond my conscious understanding, I reached two hands for the mask pendant at my breast.

  Ravinga had arisen and without a word left me sitting there to face what I had striven for the whole evening to push away from me, that weakening fear. Shank-ji and any of the others who had survived had not yet returned. There was a stretch of time then which I must wait out, and to be companioned by fear during that time—

  The dollmaker returned out of the shadows beyond the lamplight. She laid down on the table a staff, but one which bore no relation to that which had accompanied me during my journeying. This was no herdsman’s weapon and companion. Now it was a symbol of power, power—

  The rod length was golden and set in a curling pattern for most of its length of small jewels. The rubies of Thnossis, the topazes of Azhengir, the sapphires of my own people, the other gems which were the badges of the five nations fashioned in those whirls and spirals. At the top was the figure of a seated Sand Cat, also golden, with gem eyes which outflashed the other jewels below. It was fit for an Emperor as a rod of office—for an Emperor!

  I gazed at it dazzled. This was of workmanship as fine as that from my sister’s hands—heretofore I had believed that no one could surpass her craft. I put forth a hand and yet I dared not touch it—this was not meant for me.

  Ravinga might have read my mind.

  “It is yours in truth, Klaverel-va-Hynkkel. Or will be soon.”

  “Why?” I suddenly knew that chill of fear close about me a hundredfold. “Who am I to be Emperor? I am not even a warrior—but rather a herdsman and servant in my father’s household.” I did not want to look ahead. I dared not build upon that which I now believed would not come true.

  To those of Vapala I was a barbarian. Among my own people I had been weighed a
nd found wanting. I was—

  “You are,” her words carried with them something of a command, “what you believe yourself to be!

  “Have you not gained brothership with the desert lords?” Her eyes flitted from to Murri and back again. “What other man for generations out of time can claim that?”

  It was as if my eyes turned inward and I saw not this room and that blazing rod of office, but rather the rocks of the isle and the dancing cats. Faintly I could even hear the strange sound of their singing. Once again I witnessed their unbelievable leaps and bounds, the fact that they could even coast afloat, their fine fur fluffed, the air they swallowed holding them aloft.

  At the time it had been a sight of wonder, to me now it was even more of a mystery and even delight. Those graceful forms absorbed in their own release of feeling. I remembered my own attempts to match them and take part in the joyful expression of their love of life.

  “Yes,” Ravinga’s voice cut through that half dream jerking me back to the here and now, “remember that, brother to the furred ones. As to why you,” she paused as if she might be hunting the proper words—as an adult who must explain something obtuse to a child, “do not expect me to answer that, Hynkkel. I only know that for many seasons it was set upon me to seek out a certain man. When you laid hands on that trophy of the devil knotted into the mane of my yaksen I knew that I had found he whom I had sought.”

  Now I arose to my feet and leaned a little across the table, my eyes striving to hold hers fast.

  “Who are you, Ravinga? What purpose made you seek so?”

  She hesitated and then she slipped down onto the stool where she had sat earlier and, with the gesture, ordered me back into my own place.

  “I am Ravinga, a maker of dolls—” Again she paused and I interrupted her:

  “And of other things. An Emperor perhaps, dollmaker? But men are not such as can be made—save through their own actions.”

  “We are all of the essence of our homelands, and also of the Great Essence. There stirs now that which once before strove to break the tie between people and their world. There is a Will which holds itself greater than the whole. I am one of a few who might be called Watchers, Guardians.” She stretched her wrist now into the full light so I could see the scars there, so like to the ones I also bore. “I have danced with the furred ones in my time, for they have a part to play in what will come, even as they did long ago.

  “I do not know when the Shadow will advance upon us—now it flits—it tests. There must be an Emperor who is of such nature that he can, in the time of need, draw upon the Essence—not only of his own country, but that of all the outlands, men, women, beasts, the land itself.”

  “And you believe that I can do this?”

  Now she fingered the staff lying on the table. “Would this have been wrought, did I not?”

  “I—I am not what you seek!” All the years behind me arose to argue that.

  “You shall be what you make yourself, Hynkkel. Chew upon that thought. Get you to your rest, for the morning comes far too soon.”

  So abruptly she dismissed me. There was a wanness on her face as if her explanation to me had drawn out much strength. It might have been for her just such an ordeal as I had faced already. I picked up the harp and murmured a good-night, leaving her there now gazing down at the staff of power.

  Chew upon her planted thought I did and sleep did not come easy that night. This time Murri did not slink away to hide but rather shared my chamber.

  “Brother—” I drew my fingertips across the strings of the Kifongg, but kept the chords which arose soft, “what lies before us now?”

  He had been licking a forepaw and now he raised his head to look at me.

  “Much,” he made short answer.

  At that moment I wished with all my will that I were back in that small hut which had been my own before this whole venture had begun. I was who I was—how could such as I aspire to Emperor? I had never wanted power—to herd the beasts, harvest the algae, make a trading venture into town—that was all the life I had known and I was not fitted for more.

  “Not so—” Murri rumbled.

  My hand had fallen on my knee and I looked down at the brand there. Memory arose strong, vivid. I heard through the walls of the room, saw beyond the house, the city—

  The Sand Cats in their grace and full beauty danced beneath the night sky. They sang their own purring, growling chants. There was such freedom, such a uniting with the Essence. Muscles twitched in that moment. I wanted to fling myself out again, to be one with them, with their world.

  Then again I faced the black leopard and his jealously guarded sphere. I rubbed one hand against the other and looked again at the brands set there. There was the mountain of fire, the treacherous plain of salt pan, the tangle of vines—

  I wished so much for my own old place on the dome of my house where I could look upon the stars, open mind and heart to the essences into which I had been born. By touching such I would know who I truly was.

  All the stories which Kynrr had related in detail about Vapala—the court—the under struggles of one House against another so that the country was rife with intrigues. How was I to face that?

  However, I could not be sure that I would be called upon to do so. I remembered Shank-ji and the fact that this land was his and so would answer first to him.

  I set aside Kynrr’s instrument and sought the bed mats where Murri had already settled himself. Perhaps it was the purring of my companion which brought me sleep for it speedily came, even though I had enough twisting thoughts to keep it away.

  Wa, Wiu, and Wyna sat by the fire which had died down to coals. As I stirred the pannikin in which I had steeped the drink for Ravinga, they watched me with round green eyes. My thoughts were such that I dug my spoon deeply and hard into the mixture. For fear gnawed at me.

  Suppose that Ravinga spoke the truth and this herdsman out of a barbarian land would triumph in the end. Thereafter he would face a maze trap worse than any he had known. He might be Emperor but he would speedily learn that there were powers which would stand stubbornly against him. And, with the Shadow spreading, we did not need dissension at court.

  Shank-ji had a strong following; even those elders who would not welcome a break with tradition would back him if he won. His mother had been of the House Yuran, one of the oldest and most powerful. Those now bearing that name would be only too ready to support their kinsman. And if he failed, their anger would be great—

  I bit my lip. They had eyes and ears in plenty in Vapala, did those of Yuran. There could be no long concealment of Ravinga’s connection with this outlander. Once their suspicions were aroused—then what would follow?

  Death could be the least and most desired end. Ravinga had powers, yes. I had seen them at work—but their success depended mainly on the point that she had never been questioned. That this Hynkkel had chosen to come to us—mat he had been escorted hither by the guard—that he had dared to bring that beast which was the terror of legend—all this was enough to turn the wrong eyes in our direction.

  Was I a coward? No, but I was one who had learned a dire lesson in the past. Where was my House now? Yet once our colors had shown proudly in the feast hall of the Emperor. Not to think of that. Yet it nagged me until, unable to sleep, I went into the shop. The grey of early daylight had become as full as it ever reached in this court. I unbarred the latch door and stepped out for a moment. Mancol had not yet come, nor had the kottis followed me. I was alone and in that moment I heard the chiming of the mobiles begin as those in the major thoroughfares were released from their night latching. Above them all sounded the louder clang of the Emperor’s.

  Today—tomorrow—when would they come, those others who survived the trials elsewhere? While he who slept beneath our roof—

  “Bright day.”

  I turned swiftly. The man in my thoughts stood there, his head a little atilt as if he were listening to the incessant chimes, striving to sep
arate one set from the other.

  “Bright day,” I answered him mechanically.

  Then he spoke with the directness of his countrymen, so different from the courtesy-encased words of we of Vapala—

  “You are no friend to me, are you, Allitta?”

  “I do not know you—” I responded.

  “You may know as much as Ravinga but it is not enough—”

  Why he sought to tax me with this, I could not understand. Did he believe that I strove to turn my mistress against him?

  Yes, that I would have done long since had I been able. But my judgment had no weight for her in this matter.

  “I fear you,” I answered before I thought.

  “You fear me?” He accented that last word as if he were incredulous. “Why?”

  “Because of what might happen.” Then all I had been thinking by the fire spilled out of me—that through him my mistress courted the danger of attracting the adverse notice of those who could and would act against her.

  “I see,” he said slowly. “Kynrr spoke of such things as the jealousy of the Great Houses and their secret ways of dealing with those who gained their ill favor. You think then that such might be turned upon her whom you care for, if by some unusual range of favor I do gain the crown? The Emperor has all power, does he not?”

  “Subject to the advice of the Chancellor,” I corrected him.

  “But he can take under his protection whomever he wishes—”

  “If he may desire to do so.”

  “So.” I had him frowning now. He favored me with a hint of wry smile. “I think you may see only shadowed future, Allitta. I have yet to claim the crown. Nor do I think that my chances are so fair. But this much I say to you: Your mistress is one who knows more than either of us. I would back her against a war band, without even a spear to hand, and yet see her a victor. She is far more than she seems.”

  28

  Ravinga did not share our morning meal nor did Allitta do me such a favor. Murri and I ate alone, and it was not an easy meal, for I waited for the summons and waiting has never been easy for me. It never is for one who can reckon in his mind all the evils which may lurk ahead. How long that wait would be I had no way of telling.

 

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