by Andre Norton
His mount swung around, presenting its rider’s back. Shank-ji knew that was meant as an insult—one he dared not show he resented. Within him rage sparked. To be treated so—and he was of a princely House, one that did not bear insults lightly.
He did not see the rider out of sight but returned to his men. The Sand Cat lay in hiding until they were both gone. At first he watched in the direction in which the Messenger had taken. Then he waited behind a dune until his mate joined him. They touched noses and conferred for a moment. Leaving the female he went on, heading in the wake of the Messenger—but a good distance behind, all senses alert.
His mate padded to the spire and using her strong claws began to climb, until she was at last able to pull herself to a perch well above the cave of the watchers. Facing south she sent forward her report and, far away, Myrourr and Maraya listened to what the thought waves brought.
With the Diamond Queen on Progress:
Though she had not had a good day’s rest, Queen Yuikala paced back and forth over one of the carpets within her tent. She stopped to stare at the disordered cushions of her bed place, but not as if she really saw them.
Her maid called softly from the other side of the curtain and she gave permission for Luvania to enter.
“Your Highness, they bring your breakfast. And—” she hesitated before adding: “they are already taking down the Emperor’s tent.”
Yuikala’s smile was hardly a pleasant one. “So, the August One again thinks it well to move out early. His restlessness is marked. We shall go more at leisure. It is not well to face an hour of sun. Bring me the skin cover. I do not court dryness and wrinkles—I need not go looking like a caravaner.”
“Your Highness need only look to your mirror—your beauty is undimmed.”
Always flattery—but her court must believe, at least in seeming, she was as when she was first crowned. She was never vain of her body, but that she thought quickly and clearly, was adept at planning—of that she was proud.
So they were afraid of her—wanting no close contact with her now. Their fear could be used to serve her purpose. The barbarian oryxen herder had publicly insulted her. The slut he had taken into his arms and bed would be quick to see how the sands drifted and take her lead from that. She came of a cursed House; that was a known fact.
The Queen greeted the arrival of food with pleasure and chatted with the two ladies who shared her repast. None alluded to recent happenings.
It was when she went to mount her sleek oryxen that she saw who was standing ready to assist her. A trace of frown appeared between the sweep of her eyebrows. What did Kalikur here? He was one of her guards, but not the one she expected. Where was young Jaclan? She asked that as she faced this substitute.
“The August One summoned him to be of his private guard, Highness. It was a surprise—”
His voice was very low as if he did not want to be overheard. Still he must have no reason to approach her in public. To have him do so jarred her earlier complacency. Why was Jaclan promoted to the Imperial guard? His being used so in the palace was only a temporary assignment. The youngling owed first service to her.
She nodded her thanks and mounted. To her surprise he still lingered by the side of the oryxen and she looked at him quickly. Was this henchman, too, seeking to advance himself in some fashion?
He made a small gesture. She glanced quickly down. There was a twist of writing parchment hidden in the mane of her mount. He turned away and Yuikala urged her beast on a little, freeing the slip with her gloved hand as she rode.
“Morning—two meet Sand Cats—give homage to cats.”
The slut was now also tied to the cats? That would sharpen another weapon for those wishing to follow old customs. Well more than half the men of the kingdom based their pride on hunting Sand Cats—that the Barbarian must know—Had not his decree already been broken? It was almost too easy to gather such a profusion of mistakes to show the whole Outer Region that, if he was not mad, he was close to it.
Give homage—why? What did he believe he gained from that? It was true that Murri had changed the minds of some of the palace dwellers about his breed. She must learn more—could the beasts be really other than they seemed? Among her possessions she had a number of furs presented to her—now kept tactfully in storage and not openly displayed. But before the coming of Murri she had never known a live cat.
She beckoned to the nearest guard to draw near.
“Rurtar of Orriz is with us, is he not?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Summon him.”
She cut the pace of her mount until the burly hunter joined her, bowing low in his saddle.
“I am at your service, Your Highness.”
She smiled. “You can indeed aid me, Hunter. I would learn something of the lands between the Queendoms. Such have provided hunting territory for you and your men for many years.”
“True, Highness; but no more. The August One has declared that we can no longer hunt Sand Cats.”
“Many have wondered why he has done this. Do you know?”
Rurtar shook his head. “No, Highness. Murri shares favor with Akeea. That the Great Leopard does this is also a puzzle.”
“Are the stories told about Sand Cats true? That they gather on rock isles of their own—that they appear to patrol the desert as do scouts for an army?”
“I have heard such tales, Highness. I have never seen proof of either story. It seems that men have ever hated Sand Cats, and the Cats, men. If the cause is not just fear, it lies hidden in the past. The leopards are as great and dangerous as they, yet leopards have formed a royal guard for unnumbered years and we know them well.”
There was another question but she hesitated to ask it. Had the Sand Cats some strange power which men did not possess? If the barbarian paid the cats homage, was it because he understood this? A hunter, she thought, could not answer that—too many deaths lay between. However when she reached Kahulawe—There were many hunters there; their fame had reached to Valapa—she would set Kalikur to locate such and she would summon him.
The dusk had faded and night enclosed them. She had all the dark hours ahead in which to plan the right questions.
CHAPTER 16
Allitta:
When we halted for food and rest at midnight, I noted that our neighbors regrouped, some dropping behind and others coming to the fore. Among those now in view was Ravinga and I took her coming as a summons. Night shadows offered me concealment. I had informed Hynkkel of what I would do and he agreed.
Thus I slipped away on the pretext of a nature need, and, carrying Kassca, made my way to the doll maker’s campsite. Her guide was bringing out food. She raised a hand in greeting and I settled down beside her I though I did not throw back my cape hood.
She passed me an algae cake spread with yaksen milk cheese. I broke off a portion for Kassca.
“Was this Kalikur known to him?” she asked at once.
“No. Nor to me either. I know very few of the courtiers. There was a First Maid of that House who was with Berneen for a space—her I met once or twice.”
“Another tie with the Queen,” Ravinga commented; “however, the one to be watched is Kalikur. He is a noted archer but perhaps not a truly intelligent man.”
“Archer? One who might perch on roof tops?”
“Just so—but that is only guess and there is no proof.”
“But if he is Hynkkel’s enemy why would he wish to remove the opponent in the Ordeal?”
“Hynkkel learned well from Murri—he followed no regular pattern in his leaps and bounds to escape the cutting edges of the swinging blades. Even a good archer can be defeated when he is faced by something new. But Kalikur went out of sight then and reappeared only when summoned to the Progress by the Queen. By rights his House does not stand so high that it is worthy of such a summons. Yuikala, at times, fancies handsome young officers and he is well to look upon.”
Another coil of intrigue reaching
from Valapa in threat. I was impatient—was my life never to be free of such?
Then, as suddenly as a Kotti would reach for an oose fly, her hand caught mine, drawing wrist and arm out from the folds of my cape so that the bandage I wore was clearly visible. I did not try to twist loose from hold she released a moment later.
“So—they have made you free of the Pride?”
“Early this morning,” I admitted. “Hynkkel greeted two Great Ones—those whose cub Murri is—they honored me.”
Ravinga nodded. “Indeed they honored you, Allitta. Once they lived in high respect with those of the Queendoms. That ended in blood and hate fostered by the Dark One. Hynkkel has within him a power of friendship with animals which few possess any more, even surrounded as we are by our beloved Kottis. At least so far the poison has not touched the little ones.”
Kassca gave a small mew in assent to that.
Seeing that many around us were finishing their meal, I bade Ravinga farewell and slipped back to where the Emperor was dining with some company. I threw off my cloak and settled down in the empty space at his right hand. He did not glance in my direction but continued to speak with the Commander of the Progress now in charge of our safety.
Hynkkel-ji:
Vorsun-va-Ortaga had asked for my attention just after Allitta left. I noted also that where I had settled was apart, though whether he had arranged that, I did not know. The news he brought was dire. One of the scouts sent ahead had picked up a warn drum, not for a storm but an attack on a caravan, one of such fury that it had near wiped out all the caravaners as well as troops who had gone to their aid. That this troop was Shank-ji’s, I guessed. And the attack had occurred within a short distance of Kahulawe.
When I mentioned that to Commander Ortaga he showed no surprise and I suspected that perhaps warriors within my own guard knew better than the rest of us what was happening.
“We must close up, August One. There are those who drop behind on each half night’s travel. I shall send out extra scouts, but it is best that as a whole our company tightens.”
I agreed. Allitta had returned. She reported what she had learned from Ravinga. Murri drew closer. I heard the rumble of a growl. His head was high as he stared at a squad of warriors jogging just within sight. They had passed behind a line of the baggage beasts before I had more than a glimpse of them.
“Who goes?” I thought-sent.
The Sand Cat looked to me. “One I shall find again,” and since he had not to wanted to elaborate I asked no more.
There came a drum note and our temporary camp was astir. As I escorted Allitta to her oryxen, Murri remained close company. He matched his pace to that of our mounts, remaining with us. We rode in silence; each of us burdened by our thoughts. However we were startled as a small party joined us.
Captain Ortaga was carrying out his plan. I was far from wanting these fellow travelers but I had no choice. Welcoming the Queen formally, I managed to ride between her and Allitta, alert with eyes and ears.
Arrival at Kahulawe:
The following few days of travel were felt by those of the Progress to be an uneasy time. The third night before they broke the day’s camp a detachment of the Sapphire Guards joined them, bringing more ill news of rat strikes. Apart from the company, yet riding with them, was one in full dress of a General of the Sapphire Elite Royal Guard. Though that office had long been one of honor only, he carried across his saddle the Leopard Headed staff which had once been used to give orders in battle. Several lengths behind him was a younger man in wardress, but not that of a guard. As they approached the Progress and exchanged greetings with the Imperial Guards, the younger man dropped even further behind, until the General, without looking back, lifted the staff gesturing him forward. It was plain to Leader Jaclan he was scowling as if riding against his will.
The General addressed Commander Ortaga: “We crave speech with the August One. I am Kaverel-va-Meguliel and this is my son, Kaverel-va-Kalikku.”
The younger man stared straight ahead. Ortaga was well aware of court gossip. So these were the August One’s father and brother. He gave a salute and beckoned to Jaclan.
When the request was delivered to Hynkkel-Ji it was not one he wanted, but one he had expected. Allitta and the Queen reined in their oryxens as he rode on with only Murri pacing beside him. Behind him the travelers broke ranks to establish camp; however, he was sure that most eyes would be on this meeting.
Once he would have been standing to accept his father’s orders, holding back resentment when Kalikku used words to belabor him. Now they must dismount and approach him for recognition. It was never good to nurse resentment. These two were faithful to their caste; he had never wanted what they sought. To accept them as he would other nobles of the Queendoms was his duty here and now. Nearer company of the Progress spread out to give some privacy. On sudden impulse Hynkkel-ji swung from the saddle and stood waiting by his well-trained mount. He was not keeping to custom, but custom keeping often brought new difficulties. This was his father and in spite of their differences, he would show him this respect.
Hynkkel-ji:
My last meeting with my father might have been taken from one of those puppet shows children delight in. He was the much-praised leader from the latter wars of the Queendoms, giving his oath to a new Emperor. To me then the ceremony had lacked reality. This was real. He saluted and I inclined my head.
“Welcome to you, General of the Sapphire. We are well met indeed. I have heard dire things of the open lands and with your skill you can supply me needed counsel.”
There, I had given him an opening. We probably would never have any close relationship. I knew him for what he was, a hard man bound to the past by many memories. I wished at that moment that I might indeed spread before him all the trouble arising. Not perhaps those which threatened me personally but certainly what hung darkly over the Outer Regions.
“I have given my oath, August One. Ever have I served Kahulawe with all the strength the Essence granted me. My sword is at the August One’s command. Now I bring one who also wishes to serve, my son Kalikku. He is schooled in arms and knows the Outer Regions well.”
My son—not your brother. He was keeping the barrier and I accepted that.
“We have need for valiant warriors.” I looked to my brother. “The Empire welcomes you, Kaverel-va-Kalikku.” I made no attempt to establish any more than a formal relationship; for I was very certain that my brother did not want that. He was not scowling. However I knew his humors well enough from the past to guess that this meeting was none of his seeking.
He had been reported among Shank-ji’s following. Was it my father’s will that had separated him from those?
I freed the scepter staff which bore the representation of a Sand Cat from my saddle, and held it out in his direction. I saw his upper lip lift a fraction as if he were about to exchange snarls with the cat. Both he and my father had kept their eyes away from Murri. After all, they were known as formidable hunters.
Reluctantly Kalikku brought his right hand away from close proximity to his sword hilt. He stared at the staff but not at me. Then he raised that hand to touch the Sand Cat head with fingertips.
“This one swears service to the August Crown.” His words came as harsh as if he were offering a challenge.
So he gave an oath that tied him to my cause—if a grudging one. His honor would be broken, were he to make any move against me, though he had sworn to the Crown and not to me personally.
Once more I spoke to my father. “Ride with us, General. Have you fresh news of the rat pestilence which is turning the Outer Regions into a battlefield?”
He accepted that invitation, matching his mount’s pace to mine. Without further urging he supplied me with more recent and exact information about the latest caravan massacre as we rode. Commander Ortaga was summoned to listen.
“There is this:” my father continued, “The Storm Watcher drummed that those who came to save the still living wer
e not regular trail guards, rather they were not united to any Queendom.”
“There have been reports of such a troop,” the Commander answered when I said nothing.
I spoke then, a single name: “Shank-ji.”
Neither my father nor Ortaga made any comment. After a short pause my father continued:
“Kahulawe is recruiting. There are objections now from the Caravaners, for the young warriors are joining the armies of the Queendoms rather than becoming route guards.”
“And,” I returned, “the caravans cannot continue without efficient guards. From what has happened we must conclude that rat attacks will grow more frequent and undoubtedly more vicious. The Queendoms’ own forces will only serve on their own lands, and not on the trails. The caravans will cease.”
My father looked at me. I thought he was wondering if I had any answer to such a problem. Because of my present rank, he would not ask openly.
I had one solution—one which might be only last for a short time, but which could hold long enough so the Dark Lord would be met with an equal force.
“We have allies, ones which marched with us a very long time ago, or so have I been told.”
I heard a sound from my father’s direction as if he cleared his throat to settle what might be an instant protest.
“Murri has been my battle comrade.” I continued. “Those of his pride have far better knowledge of the desert than any scout has ever gathered. Their hatred of rats is equal to our own.”
“You speak of a pride,” said my father, “as if you rate these cats as noble as men.”
“I do.”
“His hate of us still abides. He sees us as only a source of carpets for his nesting, providing hunting for the cubs of his kind.” Murri’s thought came. “Such as he, so mind set, will not be easily changed, brother.”
We all fell silent. Ortaga excused himself to inspect the guard. A short time later my father withdrew, followed by Kalikku who had been riding at a little distance, to join the Sapphire force.