To Journey in the Year of the Tiger

by H. Leighton Dickson

  “Kirin, you’re bleeding!”

  He slapped his brother’s hand away and scrambled back into the fray.

  “Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. All wrong.”

  The Seer was panting now, eyes still focused far beyond the confines of the kitchen and his teeth chattered uncontrollably. The ends of his hair, which had only minutes before been dripping with condensation were now white with frost.

  “It’s all wrong. Max, what the hell is going on? Max, where are you?”

  “You are here, in Sha’Hadin. Can you hear me?”

  “Max?”

  “No. You—”

  “Max, it’s too cold! Initiate core warming immediately! I can’t breathe!”

  “You can breathe, for you are breathing now. And you are warm. Can’t you feel the warmth? Feel it.”

  For emphasis, Kirin dragged another blanket from the pile at his side, tugging it up over the man’s chest and wrapping it around the stiffened fingers. The claws still extruded through the gloves.

  “See? Warm.”

  “No. I can’t breathe!”

  “Listen to me. You are talking. You are breathing. You are warm. Believe it.”

  “How?”

  “I have no idea, sidi, but it is the truth. Can you feel the warmth?”

  “No...Yes, I can. It’s...it’s warm now. Is it? But how? Is that you, Max?”

  “No.”

  “Why am I awake? Is it time?”

  “I’m not certain. But you are safe, you are warm and you can breathe.”

  “I must be dreaming this. Am I dreaming? How can I be dreaming? You can’t dream in cryo.”

  “Wow. He sounds like a tiger.”

  Kirin glanced up. Fallon Waterford was standing over them, her mouth twisting into knots of wonder. Briskly, she nodded at him, as if it were as plain as day.

  “No accent.”

  She was right.

  The Captain leaned forward.

  “Who are you?”

  “Initiate core warming. Begin infusion of liquid Oh Too. Get this procedure back on track, Max.” The Seer closed his eyes. “Or this cold is going to kill me...”

  “You are not going to die.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Who is Max?”

  “Don’t wake any of the others, do you understand? Not until we’ve got this mess straightened out. Have you got that? Have you?”

  “Yes. Yes, I think so.”

  “You better hope so, or I’ll pull your plug myself.” The strange, unaccented voice was growing sluggish, the breathing deeper, less ragged and Sireth began to sink into the Major’s strong arms. “I think, I think I’m going to go back to sleep now. Wake me when the procedure’s complete. And whoever the hell you are, get online with Max, will you? This is really, really bad.”

  Save for the bubbling and the hissing and the roaring of flame, and the soft chirruping of a falcon, there was silence in the kitchens of Sha’Hadin.

  Kirin reached out his hand, seeking the point where heart met soul. The pulse was slow but strong. The seventh and last Seer was alive. They had succeeded. He sighed, and rubbed his brow, only then noticing the bright ribbons of blood standing out on his forearms. And what was worse, he had another headache.

  But tears were flowing into Tiberius’ broad, broad smile and suddenly things were right in Sha’Hadin.

  And the gong sounded the Close of the Second Watch.

  The Mother’s Arms

  It was the dawn of the third morning since the adventure had begun. The third morning since Kerris Wynegarde-Grey had been so unceremoniously roused from his bed after only four hours of sleep. It was a remarkably similar one, he had noted, cool and crisp with a skyful of clouds. But this morning, one thing was drastically different. Everywhere he looked, the Great Mountains were covered in snow.

  It was not unusual for the mountains to receive snow rather than rain during one of her many spring storms. Indeed, snow was the lifeblood of all high places, dripping into rivulets, then streams, then mighty rushing rivers in its endless quest for level ground. And snow, being cold and heavy, falls faster than water through the valleys that channel its path, rushing like wild horses to throw itself off the very edges of the earth.

  Kerris knew all about such things. He had seen it happen time and time again. He had followed rivers to their sources and discovered that these rivers were in fact simply snow warmed by sun. He had chased this racing snow through foothill and jungle alike, marveling as it changed colors from white to brown to deepest blue, always to end up in the same place. The oceans. And like a wild horse, he too had followed that snow off the edge into the oceans. Somehow he had never mustered the courage to pursue it farther out as far as the waters would go, beyond the edge of the world.

  He smiled to himself. One day, he would. He was certain of it.

  He tugged on the black mare’s girth.

  “Oh, there’s more to life than horses, Kerris. Can’t be hiding in stables all your life, now can you, Kerris? Oh and by the way Kerris be up before dawn, will you and have the horses ready. There’s a good man.”

  Rodreigo was laughing behind him.

  “Why do you always talk to yourself, sidalord grey lion?”

  “Perhaps because I can hold up both ends of a conversation and quite happily too. Besides, by talking to yourself, you are guaranteed never to lose an argument and you always have someone to blame when you do.”

  Rodreigo laughed some more.

  With a huff of breath, Kerris stepped back and ran his eyes along the row of horses standing outside the stable’s stony walls. Not including the pack animals, they had thirteen horses. Little Quiz was herd boss. The pony stood at the head of the row, ears flat, teeth bared, squealing and snapping at any who dared contest his authority. Kerris laid a steadying hand on the pony’s shoulder. Thirteen horses, thirteen riders. He shook his head.

  “Rather convenient, isn’t it, how we managed to lose one leopard but keep his horse. Otherwise, your Seer would be riding a goat.”

  Rodreigo howled this time, literally clutching his sides to keeping his lungs from bursting out his skinny ribcage. With such an appreciative audience, Kerris could not resist the temptation to mimic the image. He scrunched up his left eye and dragged his legs along the ground, smacking an imaginary goat with the tip of his tail.

  “Hai-hai there, Imperial goat! Off to the Palace. Hai-hai now!”

  Rodreigo hit the dirt, rolling around in fits of hysteria and gasping in vain attempt to catch his breath. Kerris straightened his back, clasped his hands to his hips –a perfect imitation of his brother.

  “Breathe, Rodreigo. Breathe. I am Kirin Wynegarde-Grey, Captain of the Queen’s Guard. I order you now to breathe or I’ll punch your guts in.”

  Abruptly, the laughter died.

  “Good morning, Kerris.”

  Kerris swung around, smiling.

  “Ah, good morning, Kirin. I was just explaining to my friend here how we saved the Seer last night. Wasn’t I, Rodreigo?”

  Wide-eyed, Rodreigo waited for the flash of steel that would undoubtedly take off his head.

  “We, Kerris?” growled the Captain. “How we managed to save the Seer?”

  “Yes, we. First is luck, remember? And Rodreigo claims I’m a lucky omen. He knew we would save the Seer. Isn’t that right, Rodreigo?”

  Rodreigo swallowed and nodded swiftly. He was a serval, a small one at that, and he glanced between the bigger cats with quick, anxious looks.

  “And he was right, wasn’t he? You know, I wonder if Rodreigo hasn’t got a bit of the Gift himself, eh Rodreigo? He certainly is a splendid judge of character.”

  “Forgive me, sidis. I-I-I must wash up for morning prayers.”

  And with that, he grabbed an armful of brushes and scurried into the shadows of the rock. Kerris watched him go.

  “You enjoy frightening children, Kirin? I thought that was Ursa’s job.”

  “Kerris...” The Captain turned to regard his b
rother, grinding his molars to restrain his tongue. “Kerris, thank you for saddling the horses. And thank you for your help last night.”

  Kerris shrugged and leaned across the back of his pony.

  “I tossed the stones this morning, Kirin. The Paghuah says there is no good to be found on that trail. And I don’t like the look of those mountains, either. That snow won’t stay. By midday, it’ll be racing for the valleys like kittens for candy.”

  “We have no choice, Kerris. We must reach Pol’Lhasa today.”

  “Why?”

  The Captain shook his head.

  “Right. Not my place,” said Kerris. “That’s fine. But as your Geomancer and Guide then, I really don’t advise it.”

  They turned as a party of leopard guards marched in perfect formation from one of the monastery’s seven entrances. Sandwiched in between were the Scholar and the Alchemist, neither looking particularly refreshed from the mere three hours of sleep before early rise this morning. Kirin could not allow that to concern him, however, for today, they needed to make good time, even more so than before. He would accept no less.

  “Ah, sidali,” said Kerris, “Allow me to escort you to your horses.”

  Emerald eyes flashed at him.

  “Are you sure it’s really there? I mean, I would hate to try to mount a horse that wasn’t really there.” She brushed past him and slipped her foot in the stirrup. “Besides, I think I’ve got the basics now. Now that I’ve stopped to think about it, and all...”

  Within seconds, she was up and in position, head held just a little too high, back just a little too straight. And, Kirin thought, the laces of her forest-green cloak a little too tight at her throat.

  Kerris rolled his eyes at his brother.

  “I gave her a bit of a lesson yesterday. She fell off,” he whispered loudly. “I daresay she wounded a bit more than her pride...”

  Fallon huffed but said nothing.

  “Now, sidalady cheetah?”

  “Kerris, you help the guards ready the pack horses. I will help the lady.”

  And without allowing for a response, the Captain took the long, speckled hand and led the woman towards her black mare and away from his brother.

  Naturally, she needed no assistance and she mounted with languid grace, forcing him to watch her long, ebon-clad legs wrap around the animal like a second skin. She drew the hood of her black cloak up and over her forehead so that her wide, golden eyes peered out from the shadows.

  “Thank you for your help, sidi,” she purred.

  Kirin shook his head.

  Lastly, there were voices as three final figures approached the party and the Captain bit back a smile. For each of the Seer’s long strides, both the Major and the lynx Tiberius were forced to take two in effort to keep up. For the Major, this presented no problem. Tiberius, on the other hand, was puffing as the trio pulled to a stop in front of the horses. The old man smiled at him. The Seer did not.

  “Captain, your message?”

  Kirin handed him a scrap of parchment and watched as the man fixed it to one of the falcon’s legs, binding it securely with the talon leathers. He placed two fingers on the hood over the hidden eyes.

  “Pol’Lhasa,” Sireth breathed softly, then removed the hood.

  The falcon launched from his arm, crying in her shrill, sharp voice as she rose into the morning sky. Within moments, she was gone. He turned to regard the Captain with more than a trace of hostility.

  “There is one final matter before we embark on our journey, Captain.”

  “And what would that be, sidi?”

  “Sha’Hadin.”

  “Sha’Hadin?”

  “Yes, Captain. The monastery is left without leadership. You have abolished the Council and removed me from office. You yourself have assumed responsibility but now you leave, and I doubt that you intend on returning anytime soon. I wish to know what you intend for the 500 who remain, 500 of the Empire’s truest servants. Would you have them also pack their bags and depart?”

  Kirin could hear Ursa growling behind, saw her hand move to the hilt of her sword. He shook his head and clasped his own firmly behind his back.

  “Sidi, your anger, while understandable, is misplaced. I hereby confer all authority for the daily operations of the monastery onto Tiberius’ capable shoulders, until the reestablishment of the Council and the return of its last surviving member. Tiberius, does this suit you?”

  The lynx smiled again and bowed most deeply.

  Kirin turned to the Seer.

  “And you?”

  “For now.”

  “Very well. Major, please show the Seer to his horse. We must depart immediately if we are to make Pol’Lhasa by sunset.” He turned to Tiberius, laid both hands on the man’s shoulders. “The Empress will know of your service, sidi.”

  The monk simply shook his head.

  “Unnecessary, sidi. You have saved Sha’Hadin. That is more than enough.’

  With a smile, the Captain mounted his Imperial stallion. He surveyed the group assembled in the deep ravine – the seven guards, the Scholar, Alchemist, Seer, Major and their Guide. He cast his eyes up the sharp escarpment, its high ridge just now glowing with the golden rays of dawn. Out of its stony walls, the Cave of a Thousand Eyes watched the Life of the World, preserving the future of the Upper Kingdom. He prayed they would watch forever.

  He nudged alMassay forward.

  “Move out.”

  ***

  By noon, they had reached the split in the trail, the small grassy knoll where high and low paths converged. Naturally, they had returned by the low path for on roads as wet and dangerous as these, they needed sure footing to ensure the best time. Water ran in widening streams across the trail and in some cases, the horses were made to leap over ragged ditches created by the runoff. The sun was high and hot, promising the return to more typical spring weather and again cloaks weighed heavily on their backs as they descended slowly from the mountains of Sha’Hadin.

  They had passed the Inn and the markets and the cleft in the road where carts tended to stick, all without incident. It seemed that today, they might make their destination by sunset. The Captain smiled a small smile.

  The Empress would be pleased.

  He let his gaze wander down the trail, to the winding river of horses that comprised this Royal Entourage. Three leopards led the way, the Royal Standard waving above them and leading them like an arrow to the heart of the Kingdom. Next, the Scholar riding quite well on her rather leaden horse. Kerris had situated Quiz immediately behind for the pony was definitely dominant in this mismatched little herd, and its sharp teeth snapped and nipped the sluggish backside whenever the pace grew too slow. Next the Alchemist, again somehow managing to make her stock mare something remarkable. He had also noted, with some degree of concern, that the little red pouch floating above her bags seemed somehow fuller, more menacing than before.

  It didn’t matter. He would be rid of her by sunrise.

  Behind him, Sireth benAramis, Ursa Laenskaya, the three pack horses and the final four leopards to complete the party. The Seer had been surly all morning, almost rivaling the Major for ill temper and the Captain was forced to admit there were matters still unsettled. He knew what they were, for he himself had invited them. With a sigh, he reined in alMassay and pulled alongside the man.

  “Sidi, is the mount not to your satisfaction?”

  “The horse is fine, Captain. It is the blood of the Seers that sits poorly in my stomach.”

  “Now is not the time.”

  “Will there be a time, Captain? It is cowardice to delay such a challenge.”

  “It is prudence, sidi. There will be a time.”

  “I look forward to it, then.”

  Behind him, Kirin heard the Major sputter in disbelief as he nodded calmly, ignoring the thinly veiled threat. Under normal circumstances, he would have in no way allowed such a challenge to go unanswered. But the man had a legitimate grievance and was obviously lion
enough to demand his due. Kirin would have to address it soon enough.

  “And you maintain no memory of the events last night?”

  The challenge postponed, the Seer shook his head.

  “Nothing, Captain. Truly nothing,” he added with a thin smile. “My last recollection is the chalice of... ‘medicines’ and then nothing until awakening under the Major’s watchful eye. I believe that I’m growing accustomed to the sharpening of her claws.”

  Behind them, the Major sharpened her claws.

  “Is it true I spoke in the tongue of a tiger last night?”

  “It is true.”

  Sireth shook his head again. “A tiger. How odd.”

  Behind them, Ursa narrowed her pale eyes and grinned. “Some long lost relative, perhaps?”

  “First cousin on my mother’s side.”

  The Captain tried to smile. “Very well. We are making good time. If you recall anything, at any time during the journey, tell me at once.”

  He spurred alMassay forward, taking his place in the winding river once again. He noticed Quiz trotting next to the Scholar’s poky beast, and their riders seemed to be engaged in animated conversation. Too bad she wasn’t a lioness, he thought wryly. Kerris might actually have stumbled on a good one in her.

  Then again, perhaps his brother was more tiger than lion, himself.

  “You’re in quite the mood this morning, sidala,” Kerris was saying. “It really doesn’t suit you, I must say. Makes your eyes all scrunchy, and does nasty things to your nostrils.”

  “Let me ask you something, Kerris your name was. Something just for clarification. If you don’t mind.”

  “Ask away, sidala.”

  “You say there was never any snake yesterday, is that right?”

  “Sorry, sidala. There was never any snake.”

  “Well, did we get caught in the snow yesterday on the way back from the bluff? Did that really happen?”

  Kerris grinned. “Yes, I seem to recall something like that.”

  “And did we exchange our clothing for monk’s robes and have hot tea and stew in the dining hall?”