Mark of the Cat and Year of the Rat

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by Andre Norton


  Into the Unknown with the outlaws:

  His wound still troubled him. Shank-ji shifted in his saddle. However he knew he must ride. And it would be a long journey as they had to avoid the shorter trails, striking out into empty territory to pass unseen. Twice the outriders reported sighting Sand Cats perhaps watching them.

  For the first time there had been questions from his followers. His answer was not easy to shape. He continued to explain that they were to spy out trails which could be used to go from Queendom to Queendom unobserved. Also they must watch for evidence of any flood of rats—discover, once and for all, from where they issued. They rode and camped away the heat of day to ride again. Several times the carven cat trail markers were sighted, but all wore their heads firmly on their shoulders.

  If they were still followed by Sand Cats they ceased to sight them. Yet all were uneasy. Heads turned and eyes searched. The third night wind-borne sand made them remain in the rocks where they had camped. It was not the force of one of the great storms, which would set them to unroll the wide hide blankets which every wise traveler of the Outer Regions carried. However there was turbulence severe enough that they and their mounts crouched against the stone to weather its fury. Shank-ji shut his eyes against the drive of the sharp grains which rasped the skin, and, breathed in, causing racking coughs.

  If the Progress met this type of assault they might end their journey at Kahulawe and try to wait out the storm season. One could not measure time when fronting a great storm. Some had been known to last for days.

  There was only one advantage he might win from such an interrupted journey and that would be gaining more time to spread rumors of the Barbarian who had stupidly waited too late for a proper Progress.

  When at last the wind and sand subsided they were, as always, presented with an altered landscape. Dunes had been carried away, to be rebuilt in other directions. Only the outcropping of mesas and the much smaller spires might remain as landmarks.

  Shank-ji would have climbed one of the outcrops which had sheltered them but he could not trust his wounded leg. There had certainly been the bite of salt in the heaving sand. He could taste it as he strove to brush the grit from his face. They could not be too far from their goal which lay so close to the salt beds. One of the youths of the party volunteered to go aloft and see if fortune favored them by revealing the headless cats which were the promised guides.

  Shank-ji chaffed at the wait. From the bottle on his saddle he tipped a very small measure of water onto the end of the scarf with which earlier he had tried to protect his face. The wet fabric he used to wipe out the nostrils of his oryxen. His men did likewise for their beasts. As it was still damp when he had finished, he used it to clean the skin about his mount’s eyes.

  The scout returned, sliding part of the way. By his muffled exclamation he had felt the bite of the rough stone on flesh.

  “A cat without a head can be sighted in that direction.” He announced loudly as he pointed.

  Shank-ji drew a breath of relief. For the first time since setting out on this quest he believed fortune favored him. Then only too quickly his thoughts skipped to what might await him. He had no real wish to go on, but he was left with no power of retreat. The messenger had made him certain of that.

  They rode on. Here the dunes were in such a tangle they could proceed no faster than a walk.

  “They go—there are those who wait.”

  The Sand Cats, one a warrior of many seasons and the other a youngling of three, climbed to the rock ledge between two spurs where the men had sheltered. Both dipped noses, drawing in the personal scent of those who had been here. From this time on the cats would be able to follow traces only a great storm could scour away.

  “Those who wait—” the cub was circumspect, however he had the curiosity of his kind.

  His elder snarled. “We do not follow now. Those are of the Dark—they do not follow the Essence. The time is not yet.”

  The cats settled themselves on the rock. The party they had trailed might well return. If so they would again follow, as ordered. The elder started out over the dunes. Perhaps in this matter the Essence would indeed honor the prides with Its presence, grant his kind the use of the Forgotten Powers. It was true they faced again the Great Dark.

  CHAPTER 17

  The Progress at Kahulawe:

  The rugged limits of the rock island, which was Kahulawe, at last came into sight. Waiting at the foot of the upward winding road to the mesa top was Alompra-va-Kanna, the Sapphire Queen, and most notable members of her court.

  Cheers sounded from the crowd higher up as she moved forward to greet the August One who had dismounted to meet her. Her greeting was all correctness. There was no hint of his former rank as her subject, nor was there any warmth of friendship.

  The Progress had completed the first quarter of the journey, much to the relief of many of the travelers. Before the sun was into the broiling daytime heat of the season they were settled in the guesting apartments.

  Hynkkel-ji:

  So at long last I had returned. However, looking out over my homeland from the luxurious chambers of the highest Nobility, there was a strangeness to Kahulawe. From this height I could sight a stretch of the upland. Below that a yaksen herd loitered on its way to one of the five algae pools upon which all life here depended.

  Water—or the lack of it. At this moment that, more than rats or outlaws, was the worst of the problems riding with me nearly every pace of this journey. The Queen—dared I reveal to her even a hint of the possible existence of such a hidden river as we had discovered in Valapa?

  The map Allitta had discovered suggested one. It had been her proposal that she learn what she could from the court women. Yuikala would be housed in the palace, sharing Kanna’s suite. However her courtiers would be scattered elsewhere.

  I had no doubt that court gossip would be shared and any word from the Diamond Queen would be entirely to my discredit. Also I was concerned lest she employ such means to stir up trouble for Allitta. We must depend for a time on the formality of the court to serve us.

  My father’s attitude, if I accepted it as a warning—I was in mid-thought when Murri joined me at the lookout. “News, Brother. The warriors of the Pride are out.” Fear touched me then. “In defense?” I demanded.

  “Not against those gathered here,” he replied. “They watch the outlaws.”

  “And there the reason?”

  “Darkness beyond darkness. He who leads them has ridden to the edge of the Plain.” Swiftly he added what was serious indeed. Shank-ji was meeting with some force out of the Plain.

  “Man-rat!” A foul addition to those fast raising ranks against us. Had my father heard of this? I thought not, or during our conversation dealing with a possible need for allies he would certainly have mentioned it.

  “Ravinga—?”

  “The Wise One knows much, Brother. Perhaps more than she has shared.”

  “Will you act as messenger, Murri? She has a good pretext for coming here—to bring the Queen’s gift.”

  When the doll maker did arrive, she carried a wrapped package. However she did not come alone; accompanying her was one who had once given me shelter and aid when I was a wander in desert—Elwene Karafa, Caravan Leader. I welcomed them both. Murri, without explanation, slipped again from the room.

  Elwene Karafa was known in all the Queendoms. She had gathered great wealth by trading; still she kept to her chosen life. Often she had been called upon by both Queens and Haban-ji for up-to-date information concerning the trails and the Outer Regions.

  I set aside custom and addressed her at once, even as I waved both of them to pillow seats.

  “Trail Mistress, you have news?”

  “Ill news, August One. Caravan Leaders now speak much together. We cannot hire more guards. Perhaps these days each caravan would need such an army as marched to battle, Queendom against Queendom in the old days. Already near half of those experienced in our work speak
of withdrawing from the journeys.

  “August One, I mean no disrespect, but you have known something of our life yourself. Should the caravaners no longer follow the trails, the Queendoms will suffer.”

  I nodded. “It is so. Have you and your companions anything to suggest—except a full army, that is? At this time it would be difficult to recruit or train new warriors, to gather supplies, to be able to hunt down rats which may emerge anywhere without warning.”

  She looked at me for a long moment and then down at her sun darkened, capable hands which curled and recurled, making fists. I was sure she would love to use them to clear the situation.

  “There is no hope that the Queendoms will unite to march against these devils of the sands? The Plain of Desolation—do they not come out of that?”

  “So we believe. And all the Queendoms must unite, as also the caravaners, any venturing into the Outer Regions, or we will achieve nothing but our own deaths. This I say—the Progress will urge every Queendom of the necessity for standing together.

  “And I ask you, Caravan Mistress, raise your voice and ask your trading companions that they join in this. It is a charge upon us all.”

  Allitta:

  Against my will I was, in a fashion, holding a small court of my own. Was any of this politeness false? Two of the Sapphire Queen’s attendants were sharing melon wine with me.

  One was near to me in age, and familiar. She had been one of those who had visited Ravinga’s stall in the market. She was the Lady Siggura-Meu, now mated into the House of Koolkan—and Hynkkel’s younger sister! I no longer wondered that she had arrived here uninvited. She might well be interested in the one her brother had singled out as his Companion.

  The one with her was older, her round face sleek with that oil from Azhengir, which was thought by many to keep the skin supple and youthful. Her name was Tassgar-va-Almira, united to Siggura-Meu by the House binding.

  I summoned all the veneer of courtesy I had learned and showed them a friendly face. As we seated ourselves Kassca poured herself into my lap. She did not relax as she usually did but watched them as if she were on guard duty.

  Siggura-Meu offered trifles of gossip, compliments and bits of information about the court. She lacked Melora’s stately beauty, being plump and round of face, far too elaborately dressed, in colors which clashed and did not become her figure. Oddly enough she did not mention her brother. Instead it was Almira who watched me carefully over the sweetmeat she had been sucking and then addressed me boldly on the subject Siggura-Meu had avoided.

  “You are blessed by the Essence, High Lady. He is handsome, our August One.”

  Now they both eyed me intently. What sort of a game did they play? That they in any way wished to pay me compliments, I doubted.

  “The August One,” I replied in as sweet tone as I could muster, “is indeed above all men, having been granted great gifts by the Essence, whom he serves with all his will.”

  They continued their now irritating stare. Somehow I was compelled to add to my praise of Hynkkel. I did not think that any flattery of mine was out of place.

  “The August One—you must be very proud that he is your brother, High Lady. Do you not miss him since he now is of Valapa?”

  I never understood why the question aroused such an answer in her. Almira made a small movement; she might have wanted to stop her friend’s swift reply.

  “The Essence has raised him high. He was a herdsman and a servant in the House when I came into heat and found Koolkan-va-Kastern.” Pure spite underlay her speech. Her mouth twisted over her words.

  “Yes,” I returned calmly, “the Essence has indeed favored him. And rightly, for now he has come to serve the Outer Regions with all his strength.” Though I would not have said that some moons before, I now knew that it was true. Siggura-Meu tittered. To her my defense of her brother must have displayed some stupidity. Almira refilled her glass with wine and gulped a mouthful.

  “How right you are, High One,” Siggura-Meu refilled her glass also. “One must ever see the best in one’s mate. It is only that we who knew him here in Kahulawe remember him as one who made very little mark in the Queendom. But, of course as a man grows older he may change.”

  I felt the tension in Kassca. She did not hiss but I was sure she wanted to.

  Almira abruptly change the subject with a comment concerning the large market-fair, the last given before the Great Storms would blast the rock isles. For then the caravans would not come again until that season passed. I mentioned some of the wonders, which might be brought from Valapa—some even from the Inner Regions about which we knew so little.

  Shortly thereafter they made formal farewells and left. I could only brood over the real reason for their coming and why Siggura-Meu so brazenly misspoke her brother.

  The Royal Barracks—Kahulawe:

  The barracks were crowded. Officers had little privacy, being shown into rooms in pairs, once the Sapphire Queen had officially inspected the guards. Jaclan dropped his saddlebags on the nearest cushion bed.

  He did not know how roommates had been selected, but he had little liking for the one he had drawn. They were known to each other well enough but were not friends, though they had served in Queen Yuikala’s personal guard for several seasons before Jaclan had been reassigned by the August One. Kalikur had a taste for gambling and before the Imperial Test he had been one of those who had trailed after Shank-ji.

  Now the fellow stood by the window gazing out over the clusters of rock bubble houses of the Queendom.

  “Very different from Valapa!” he laughed. “We should be glad we are not stationed here for good.”

  His hand went to a pouch at his belt. Loosing its tie he shook out six round silver disks into the palm of his hand. They shone bright against his dark skin, having glittering centers—some set in diamonds and some with rubies. Kalfkur tossed them into the air and caught them deftly.

  “What say you, Leader? Do you think these local sons of herders will be interested in a game or two?”

  Jaclan shrugged. “I do not think it will take you long to find out.” He had no intention of playing gambling comrade to a man he had disliked from the first moment he met him.

  Kalikur laughed, “Like that, is it? You don’t take to wagering, I remember. Well, to each his choosing. I have a liking for these little toys.”

  He dropped the discs back into the bag and replaced that at his belt. With a flick of his hand, meant to be a farewell of sorts, he left his unpacked saddlebags on the floor, and was gone.

  Jaclan dealt with his own baggage. He had heard talk of the Market-Fair. A Fairing now, his mouth softened into a smile as his thoughts lifted to a certain heart-held one. A Fairing for a friend, no one could say that was unacceptable. Yet, she was far more than a friend. Had she not chosen him to be her mate? When this Progress was over he would again go boldly to the August One and ask where that place of safety was.

  Allitta:

  Since the August One was still cloistered in conference with the Queens it was time to be about my own task. I had carefully copied the ancient map onto fresh parchment and I drew out now the bag containing it, which I wore against my skin. As I pulled up the cord that held it, I touched that talisman Ravinga had given me. There was no reason to wear it any longer. The purpose it had been used for had been a success. Also its force would surely have been drained by now.

  However no one must learn of this. I lived always in the shadow of suspicion. That my possessions might attract attention—I was forced to laugh. To think that any spy would inspect my wardrobe was indeed seeking for specters where they did not exist.

  Still what I held now would cause instant scandal at court, gifting Hynkkel’s enemies with another weapon. This must not be suspected. I restored it to its former hiding place. At least its cloying scent was gone.

  I must now concentrate on the map. I spread it out on the surface of a tray table and snapped my fingers at the nearest bubble light, which swi
ftly obeyed my summons.

  The lines that formed the outer strands of the web—I began to trace them with one of the long pins from my hair. Copying had made it quite clear that they did weave the Queendoms together. Also—I retraced one line twice. On the original drawing it had been so faint that I had needed an enlarging glass to finish the copy. But, that line did strike into the Plain of Desolation. Did it mark an underground way to Valapa? Now I must determine if any line led here.

  In Valapa, the secret had at least been known to the House of Vurope. Was the same true—an entrance through some House in each Queendom? Hynkkel intended to bring up the matter of water shortage. Did the Sapphire Queen know of such an underground stream and if she did, would she admit it?

  I needed entrance into some of the First Houses of Kahulawe. In my visits here as Ravinga’s apprentice I had undoubtedly served many of the upper nobility. And there was Siggura-Meu and Almira. But I must find just the right person, one who would be proud and flattered by my attention, eager to gain a deeper tie. I could not believe that Siggura-Meu was such a possibility. Yuikala would have me under surveillance; that I could believe.

  To approach strangers openly was not to be thought of—any contacts I made must appear to be by chance.

  There was the fair. This was the last day as the caravaners must be on their way before the storms. I dare not make myself conspicuous by going alone. An escort? Hynkkel was out of the question. Ravinga? She was too well known. However, according to my rank I should have a guardsman in attendance.

  Who?

  The young leader of twenty! Hynkkel-ji had told of his interest in Berneen, also that he himself had been impressed by Jaclan. I folded away and concealed the map before I summoned the guardsman beyond my curtain door.

  CHAPTER 18

  At the edge of the Plain of Desolation:

  He must go to this meeting alone. Shank-ji wanted no witnesses if the dweller in the Desolation did show. When they had nearly reached the headless cats he gave an order that might be unfortunate, one that could raise questioning and suspicion. No one would dare to question him openly but what they might say among themselves was the problem.

 

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