by Andre Norton
Mind speech with such had developed when I was first taken in by the Sand Cats. So, that I employed now.
“Warriors in fur, mighty are your deeds, ever to be praised your loyalty.” I saluted the company with a gesture from my small rod of office, which I had used at the conference of Queens.
I made a sudden decision. “Noble ones, there approaches an evil which strives to pull us down. You are of the inner guard. Thus you shall be called upon for aid. I am not aware of your customs; what I shall say may not agree with those. But I give you now the truth. There stands,” I indicated Murri, “one you deem enemy. He has saved me from death, and . . .” I shook back the sleeve of my heavy court robe, slipping off the wide wristlet my sister had made. The scar of my blood brothering was plain. “. . . those of his pride call me brother. To me this is so, though I am smooth skinned and he is furred.
“News has been brought to me that a new enemy has arisen, and this is an enemy for both you and him.
“When such is to be faced it is well for all those of good will to stand together fronting evil. The Sand Cats do not and will not threaten you, nor those you are sworn to; their eyes and powers are turned elsewhere.”
Murri moved, coming forward to face the Blue Leopard. They stood so, eye to eye for what seemed to me a time I could not measure. Then they moved even closer. There came no deep growling, rise of fur or lash of tail. Instead, to my relief, the two great beasts touched noses.
Those who watched stirred but made no sound. I believed that they had their own mind touch and were communicating in thoughts I could not understand. However, that this acceptance between breeds happened was an event my own species would marvel at. Part of the burden hanging about me, as a storm cloak, dropped away. A major problem had been solved.
Allitta:
My dreams had been disturbing ones; I carried fear out of them though I could not remember why. There came a soft, soothing purring; a small furred weight rested against my shoulder; now a paw touched my cheek.
“Kassca,” I half whispered in return. The purring rose a note or two.
Sunlight from the window touched us and the ringing of the diamond chimes signaled a need for rising. I must have slept away the larger portion of the morning.
“I am indeed a lazy one,” I informed the Kotti, trying to remember any pressing duty which lay before me. What Ravinga had told me flashed into my mind, destroying my luxurious feeling of quiet and peace.
Then time passed swiftly enough. There was the business of dressing, of eating and finally the formal meeting with those of my household. I realized when I entered the hall that I had been remiss in not summoning earlier those making up my household. But then, I was not accustomed to having a household who would look to me for direction. There was, I thought unhappily now, too great a number gathered here. I searched for a moment or two trying to recall any of the countenances now turned to me. But ten years of a very different life, one which had made me free of bond, lay between. And none of my own blood had survived the fall of Vurope. They had gone down with of the house, not to be revived. Who stood here now were guards, servants, and the heads of lesser houses who owed fealty to Vurope.
I raised hands in salute.
“The House has been reborn. Kinsmen and those who support Vurope, you are welcome once more.” I guessed that the rather formidable woman standing to my right was the steward. Now I spoke to her.
“Let there be a naming of names, a true meeting of House kin.” (For by custom those who paid allegiance were kin of different degrees.)
She bowed her head. “Steward am I, House Head of Vurope. I am Hardi. These be the kin.”
Those in the fore were the spokeswomen of lesser Houses, five of them. Then came the guardswomen, followed by servants. At the edge of this assembly, farthest from me, there were five men, introduced in their turn as grooms and messengers.
I tried to match names to faces, thinking in despair I would never remember them correctly, perhaps offending those I must treat with. I was inwardly glad that I did recall the formal words for such an occasion. Now a dim memory had awakened. Once I had stood in just such an assembly, as a child behind a tall man who had been engaged in this same role I now had. Asleter, my much older half brother, had been a stranger to me, for then I was yet a child of the inner ways.
At last the end came; those of the assembly bowed and I made the expected gesture of House respect in return. They filed away save for two guards, the steward, and a maidservant. I realized that now I would always be accompanied.
I withdrew in turn to the chamber which was the heart of the house. There were wall cases there, or there should be, holding the past rolls of the house. To study these as much as I could was a duty, for so I could better serve those now depending on me.
Yes, I discovered the cases remained unlooted of their contents. Ravinga had said that Vurope had remained in the care of the Emperor, so the contents had not fallen into the hands of any jealous enemy—perhaps the very one who had brought it down. I decided that I would begin with the latest of those records. It was needful to learn all I could of the intrigues and intriguers (if possible) who had attacked Vurope.
However I had not had time to unroll the first scroll before a visitor arrived. And it was one I was ready to welcome—Melora-Kura, the sister of the Emperor. She was the only member of his House who had ever supported him and he had spoken proudly of her talents.
I had seen her only twice, once at the great market of her own Queendom, when she had come to look at Ravinga’s doll display and speak with my Mistress. At the time I was at the far back of the stall unpacking and was not to be noticed. Second, at the feasting—and somehow I had wanted to speak with her, because she had been alone, even as I was.
She came in now, with that easy stride which made it clear that the outer world and not the tight ways of the city claimed her. Smiling she touched her forehead and I repeated that greeting and drew forward one of the comfortably padded stools, seating myself on its neighbor.
“Lady of the House,” she leaned forward a little. “The August One,” she was serious now, “has told me of you and of Ravinga to whom he owes so much. He is now in such a position as to perhaps be open to attack and he cannot be sure of his defenses.”
Maybe she had read something in my expression, which disturbed her, for she continued: “No, he is not one to lean upon others; he never was. You well know what his life has been. Now my father comes to court, not to support Hynkkel, but because his pride of duty demands it. My brother,” she hesitated, “—my brother has never been close to Hynkkel. Now we are told that he favors those following Shank-ji, an open enemy. Thus he has left for the wild lands, perhaps will be led into dangerous mischief. My brother, clanless now, needs those he can trust.”
“The August One,” I replied in a voice sounding cold, even in my own ears, “indeed needs one well aware of Courtly life and its pitfalls. I also have to learn my way. This I can tell you—one who may be of real service to him, is Ravinga.”
Melora nodded. “She also I shall seek out. Though I have been trained by my father as if I were a third son, practiced in arms and hunting, yet I have no experience of the court. It is said that here words alone can bring one down.”
“As it was for Vurope. I am still ignorant of what lay behind that attack.”
Was it, I wondered, now my duty to hunt out that secret enemy? Perhaps it was better to forgo a revenge, which would never bring true healing.
She answered eagerly. “Will you make me known to Ravinga? I may be here for a time and I wish to study the work of the diamond gem masters, but I know not how long I will be here.”
Again she paused. “I am perhaps asking too much, but you know something of Hynkkel, as others do not. When kin are heart tied, all that can be done to help becomes a duty. That is now mine, so I try.”
I wished at that moment that I too had someone such as Melora-Kura. Hynkkel had Murri, Melora, and Ravinga—A small twi
light furred body jumped to the top of the table where I had dropped the scroll. There was a paw patting my arm.
There was a trusty one under my roof! I gathered Kassca to me and her purr song grew stronger.
However, though I wanted badly to tell Melora I might not be able to give any assistance, I could not dismiss her plea so. First it was Ravinga and then this other to whom I was attracted. Like it or not I was netted between them.
In the Palace—the Queen’s own Tower:
The Queen’s Tower of the Palace possessed a broad terrace where potted flowering plants made walls. When the high heat of the day diminished it was a rest place where Yuikala liked to sit, sipping melon wine and putting her schemes together. Though the one concerning the hunt of Hynkkel-ji was the most important now, another had pushed its way into her mind. This raw girl who had successfully claimed Vurope—was she going to search out secrets of the past? Would she attempt to carry on old quarrels? She would not be much of an opponent, but no one must be allowed to interfere with more important plans. This Allitta must be watched.
Yuikala raised her hand to touch one of the mobiles, sending it swinging at a faster pace, its chimes loud enough to summon the guard. Then, hands clasped together, she waited, ready to make her first move.
CHAPTER 4
Hynkkel-ji:
I had discovered that being Emperor did not release me from labor. Each morning I held a court of my own, not being fronted by courtiers outwardly eager to serve me, but the major officers who always held the lines of power for Empire and Queendom. Usually there was only a handful—Those I had quickly come to know after a fashion.
Kreed, the First Minister, was one bound by tradition, a man my father’s age and of the very conservative high nobility. He was not one to venture many opinions and listened more than he spoke, though before the end of any of our meetings he attended, he generally made a statement, which I had learned to listen to carefully.
I did not feel so with Mohambra, the Imperial Cat keeper. She was of middle years but effervescent and a friend to all. During the times I was free of duty, I would often approach her quarters to discuss both the feline inhabitants of the palace and the Sand Cats of which she was eager to learn more. She was a little in awe of Murri, who was apt to preen himself in her presence.
The Grand Chancellor Giarribari appeared to have accepted me, at least outwardly. With her I often asked questions concerning the various Queendoms and some of the problems of the Outer Regions. I think that my knowledge of that impressed her a little. She always came with reports and shared with Gelanni, the Commander of the human guard, a strong running discussion of the latest news concerning any rat rumor or direct sighting.
Queen Yuikala seldom attended our meetings. Her concerns were tied only to Valapa. I was content to have it so. She was, in her own way, a formidable person. Twice I had accepted invitation to an informal meal in her tower; each time she had in attendance her granddaughter, Berneen. As custom dictated, the girl seldom spoke, usually only in answer to question. At our second meeting I guessed that she was greatly in awe of Yuikala and I would never see the real Berneen under these circumstances. I had never been included in the festivals common to those of my age and I truly did not know how to approach any maiden so sheltered by the smothering rules of the court.
This day, as I greeted my usual gathering of advisers, Yuikala was there. When Giarribari entered she did not come alone. With her was one who made his first visit, Mekkuiva-Kieuku, Minister of Balances. To all the outlands he was a symbol to be feared and usually he kept apart. I felt a coldness when I met his eyes, eyes that might wreck a House without any care because he judged it his duty. For the Ministry of Balances was a dire and forbidding organization. We born in the Outer Regions depend heavily upon water. The algae pools were necessary to life. Should any pool, through some misfortune, begin to lose water and that continue, Mekkui and his guards could actually determine who would live and who would die, sacrificed for the good of Queendom.
Such a fate had not befallen us for generations. The last time came during the Reign of Zastaff-ji several hundred years behind us. Then the Emperor himself, being well along in years had ridden into the outlands, to climb on a great rock spire. He remained, fasting, striving to plead with the Essence for his people. At length he had taken up his sword and made the ultimate personal sacrifice. We were told in our records that the Essence was moved by his act and the waters in the pools began to rise.
Mekkui made a court bow to me and I waved one of the servants to draw out a seat for him. Unfortunately that brought him face to face with me, something I could have done without—the story of Zastaff-ji very much in my mind.
However, it was the matter of the rats which was first discussed. News had come that a caravan issuing out of Azhengir, traveling at night as usual, had been attacked. The yaksens had been quickly slain and the merchant and guards cut down, so only four were still on their feet when the patrol out of Azhengir came. Nor did the patrol itself come intact out of the ensuing battle, three lying dead when at last they had been able to pick off the larger and more intelligent rats.
“They came out of the Plain of Desolation,” Commander Gelanni stated.
Mohambra, who had kept eyes on Mekkui ever since he had entered, now stared at the speaker. “Dare even rats attempt to make their burrows in such a place?”
I thought it time to show that I was aware of the problem, “We deal with rats that are more than the rats we have known—perhaps they now have the power to use even the Desolation to their purposes.”
“There are others,” the Commander said slowly, almost as if unsure of what he had to report, yet aware that he must share what he had learned. “Half the troop of the trail guards who were left pursued those rats which survived and ran. There was a watcher—”
“A watcher?” I prompted as he hesitated.
“One sighted at a distance in the Plain. Three of the guards reported this.”
“That is impossible,” Kreed said. “No one can enter the Plain and hope to live.”
The commander refused to agree. “There have been tracks before leading in that direction. All the outland guards have trackers whose knowledge of the land can not be questioned.”
Kreed continued to look down his long nose, but he did not continue any dispute. Only I was left with this new problem.
Men in the Plain of Desolation—and how could we check on that? I had seen months ago one of these superior rats, had seen the object it carried in its skull and how that had disappeared when exposed to the air. Was it that men could also carry such and perhaps be then immune to the deadly humors of the Plain?
Who would have the expertise to speculate on that? One alone—but I had no intention of bringing forth her name now—Ravinga. I wanted to hear first her suggestions—I only, but it would be with the two of us face to face and none other there.
Instead I turned to Queen Yuikala. “Highness, who within Valapa might have the most knowledge concerning that part of our world?”
There was a small smile curving her full lips. “Arguyia, who is of the records, August One—’Tis said that she has mastered the learning of at least five Emperor’s reigns.”
I nodded, “Well enough. She shall be consulted.”
But I did not send for her immediately as they might have expected. Again I wanted to see this historian in private. I then tackled that which had been in my mind ever since I had seen Mekkui enter.
“Minister, have you some matter to bring before us?”
His dark eyes met mine. Again I felt an inner chill.
“August One, the measures read a difference in the Pools of Azhengir and Kahulawe. Another reading has been ordered.”
Any difference which would bring a measurer out was a serious one. There was no denying that.
“Render the report at once as it arrives,” I gave the order and received in return the slightest inclination of his head.
Now I spoke to
the Queen. “So, you also have dark news for us, Ruler of Valapa?”
“Not so, August One.” However I did not believe that was true. Was it that whatever had brought her here, she now wished to reconsider? Or did she want to deliver some message when we were alone?
I did not know and at that time I did not care. I wanted to be about my own need for learning what might descend upon us. And first of all I would visit the library.
The Doll Shop:
The doll shop was open for business but it was under the supervision of Ravinga’s servant Mancol, and so far there had not been any customers and only two orders had been turned in. Those Mancol duly delivered to Ravinga but she paid no attention; she was too intent on her own employment. Stretched flat on the table before her was an old map, which she smoothed over and over. So worn were the markings on it that she had to use one of her enlarging glasses to pinpoint what she was looking for.
The Plain of Desolation—that was what the people of this day called it. Once it had been perhaps the richest and most attractive of the outlands. Now only legends could guide one.
With a finger tip the doll maker traced a way across the dry lands of the Queendoms. The Plain lay beyond stark Azhengir where the only product was salt, harvested under perilous difficulty from the dull gray pans. Azhengir was the bleakest of all the Queendoms and there had been odd changes in the inhabitants, but it lay in one part touching the Plain.
Ravinga had located the point for which she searched. Now she produced a slender rod and held it over that part of the map. Her eyes closed, she concentrated on what she wished to learn. There was a quiver in the lightly held rod. She glanced down and loosened slightly more her hold. One end dipped toward the border between the Plain and the Queendom until it stood upright. Ravinga let it free. The rod did not fall, rather it moved from the first point it had indicated, out over the Plain, into the heart of the unknown. There it halted, continued upright for a moment or two and then collapsed. From a tray before her Ravinga took up a brush, dipped it into a small, uncovered bowl and drew a symbol on the map where the rod had ended its travels. Leaning back a little she regarded the drawing. She was frowning. Returning her brush to its holder she arose quickly, pausing only a moment to roll up the map of hide and slip it into the carry pocket dangling from her girdle. Time—how much time was left for them to marshal their defenses?