To Journey in the Year of the Tiger

by H. Leighton Dickson

  “You are an idiot!”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Did you see the goods in that stall? The silks? The leathers? The blades?”

  “I saw them.” As he walked, he clasped his hands once again behind his back, the kz’laki waggling like come-hither fingers. “I did not want them.”

  “Well,” she snorted, “I will not eat those things. They are disgusting.”

  “Good. They are not for you.”

  “Candy for kittens.”

  “Precisely.”

  “And you are no kitten.”

  There was a flurry of movement behind them and Ursa whirled in time to see a tiny dirty figure snatch one of the kz’laki from the Seer’s gloved hand and bolt off into the crowds. In a heartbeat, she had pulled one of her daggers, flipping the blade into her palm for throwing. Sireth caught her wrist.

  “Major! No!”

  “It has stolen your kz’laki!”

  “So? What of it?”

  “It is a thief! It must be punished!”

  “It was a child! I am the injured party, Major, but I shall in no wise lay charge against a hungry child. Would you?”

  The kitten had long since disappeared into the crush of bodies and there was no way now for the Major to track it successfully. Growling, she sheathed her dagger.

  “Children are not above the law. They must be taught order.”

  “And is that how you were taught, my wild Empress? Obedience at the point of a blade?”

  She wheeled on him, eyes flashing and she stabbed a finger at him.

  “Stay out of my soul!” she hissed and with that, she spun on her heel and marched off through the stalls like a drill-sergeant, fists clenched, hair swinging in straight, coarse lines across her back.

  “Would that I could, Major,” he sighed, shaking his head as he watched her go. “It is a very frightening place to be.”

  ***

  The shopkeep looked up from his whittling. There was someone entering his tent.

  It was a woman.

  “Go back to your husband, sidala,” he purred. “Women have no business here.”

  Long, speckled fingers reached up to remove the hood and the shopkeep almost hit the floor. Instead, he scrambled to his feet. “Of course, if you have no husband...”

  “You are the tobacconist?”

  “I am, sidala. Seller of fine pipes and finer tobaccos, imported from the furthest reaches of the Kingdom. Our incense is the finest, even the Empress herself sees fit to call.”

  Heavy, golden eyes roamed the dark, smoky confines of the tent.

  “I have need of a hookah pipe.”

  “Ah, don’t we all, sidala. But of course, you know those are illegal.”

  “And a good measure of opium. Enough for one man, one night. I will take them now.”

  “Sidala, I would be more than happy to help you, truly I would, but the legalities are prohibitive. I’m sure you can appreciate my position.”

  She moved towards him, fixing him with her hypnotic stare.

  “Of course. But I have my orders, sidi. I am directed to offer you whatever you need.”

  She was almost upon him now, so close he could taste her incense on his tongue. He breathed her in, deeply.

  “Sidala, I’m sure you are aware of the visitors at the Inn. There is a lion who bears the Royal Standard. It would be madness to even consider—”

  “It is in his name that I have come.”

  For some strange reason, his resolve was growing weaker by the moment and the tent spun around him as in a dream. He nodded and she pushed him away, turning her back to him as he began to gather the goods from deep and secret places. After several minutes, he handed her a package and she slipped from his tent without another word. Finally, he slumped to his seat and resumed whittling, as if nothing at all had happened.

  ***

  “Well, what do you think?

  Fallon looked up from the saris on the table as Kerris spun around for her, the cloak of midnight blue billowing like a banner around his body. The linen tunic was of the same color and spattered with starry embroidery – suns and moons of silver thread, with laces of grey and clasps of pewter. She sighed. He looked fantastic. She swallowed and looked back at the saris.

  “Oh. Well. It’ll do.”

  “Not good?”

  “Oh! No, no it’s good. Quite good, really. Good colors for you. Blues and greys and stars and all that. Yeah, good. Good.”

  “It’s really expensive,” he said, running his fingers along the sleeves. “Look at the needlework.”

  “Hm. Good.”

  “So I should get it, then?”

  She moved away from him, keeping her eyes glued to the jewel-toned silks of teal and scarlet, orange and purple.

  “Get what you want. I’m not your mother.”

  “I’ll try to remember that.” He turned back to the seller of linens. “Despite what my friend here says I quite like the set. If you don’t mind, I’ll wear it out. Charge it to the lion at the Inn. Keep the blanket.”

  “And perhaps, a sari for your wife? The finest silks from Bhen’ghal—”

  Fallon’s head snapped up.

  “I’m not his wife!”

  “She’s not my wife,” echoed Kerris, grinning.

  “Forgive me,” sputtered the shopkeep with a modest bow. “I assume too much. Your mistress, then?”

  “I’m no one’s mistress! You take that back!”

  The shopkeep turned from Kerris to Fallon, a bewildered frown on his face.

  “But sidi. On your back, the scratches... Are they not made by... during...?”

  “Her claws, that’s true.” The grey lion grinned. “Oh, yes. She’s a wild thing, right and sure.”

  “I am not!” Fallon stamped her foot. “I am not wild. I – I - I am very tame. You tell him. You take that back!”

  “See? Wild.”

  “More like a wife,” said the shopkeep.

  “Hm. Yes. Very. Well come along, love. Time to be getting back to the Inn.”

  “You can walk back yourself, Kerris your name was,” she snapped. “I have no desire to be the object of your joking. And, and, and you can take this back, while you’re at it. Add it to your little collection of trinkets, ‘cause I won’t be among them.”

  She pulled the Old bangle from her arm and tossed it at him before storming off through the stalls in the direction of the Inn at the Roof of the World. Kerris slipped the bangle into a deep pocket, wondering how such an innocent affair could sour so quickly. And moreover, why in the Kingdom it should bother him so much.

  He was comforted by the smell of incense.

  “She is a sensitive soul,” purred the Alchemist, as she slid up on him from behind and ran the back of her hand along his hip. “Accustomed to parents and sisters who love her and protect her and tend to her every whim. She has no experience with men like yourself.”

  Kerris turned to face her. Her mouth was only a kiss away. He grinned, breathing her in.

  “And you do?”

  “I do.”

  “Well then. I have no consuming desire to return to the Inn anytime soon and I could really use a drink. Care to join me?”

  He waited a heartbeat, for he knew it was coming.

  “Of course.”

  ***

  The road to the Inn was steep and winding, furrowed by ox-cart and carved by runoff. But the sun was now high in the afternoon sky and warm on his face. Sireth resisted the urge to close his eyes and enjoy it for if he slipped in one of the many ruts or gullies, he could not trust that the Major would catch him. And it was a long way down.

  She was walking several paces ahead and had said nothing for a very long time.

  “Major,” he called after her.“I wish to ask your forgiveness.”

  She said nothing.

  “I spoke out of turn, earlier. I meant no offense.”

  Still nothing.

  “I thought you were going to hurt the child. I assumed il
l of your character and your family. For that I ask that you forgive me. Please.”

  She stopped dead in her tracks, and he almost bumped into her.

  “You assumed?”

  “Yes.”

  “You assumed?”

  “Yes, I assumed. I was wrong.”

  “You assumed. You did not see?”

  “I was not ‘in your soul,’ as you put it. To do so without permission or purpose is dishonorable. But regardless, I was in the wrong. And I’m very, very sorry.”

  Her stare was cold, inscrutable, as if she were weighing him in the white hot fire of her eyes. He allowed himself to be weighed in that scale for it seemed the only means by which she had to judge the world around her.

  So beautiful a measure, he noted, but the scales unbalanced.

  “You were not wrong.”

  And for several moments longer, her gaze did not waver until she turned, resuming the march down the steep road and leaving the Seer standing alone.

  A golden-orange hand brought him back into the sunshine.

  “Hey, can I join you?”

  “Please do,” he said.

  And he held up the last kz’laki, the crispy honey coating only now beginning to melt and slide down onto the leather of his glove.

  “Do you like these?”

  “A honey-roasted banana! I love honey-roasted bananas! My father used to make them for special occasions! Why? Don’t you like them?”

  “They’re disgusting.”

  “Well, thanks! I love them.”

  He offered her his arm and naturally, she took it, leaning into him with such casual familiarity that he quickly forced the Major out of his thoughts.

  “Did you have a good day, my dear?”

  “Mmhmm,” she said through a sticky mouthful, “Interesting places, markets. Real maelstrom of the feline condition. Great joy, great poverty. Everyone trying to claw out a meager little existence up here in the remotest of places, on the most barren of peaks. The past and the future meeting and mingling on one crazy, crowded, busy street. So, am I really going to have six kittens?”

  Even though she was the one with the mouth full of banana, it was Sireth who almost choked.

  “What – what was that?”

  “That’s what you said last night. ‘Kittens. Six kittens. Six grey striped kittens.’”

  “I said that?”

  “Yep. I know ‘cause I was there.”

  “Ah. Yes. Well...”

  He began to wish that one of those deep muddy ruts might turn his ankle after all, for a fall might distract her long enough and prevent him from explaining. He cleared his throat.

  “Now, that was not necessarily a vision, my dear. I was not in my own soul, now was I? You said so yourself. Perhaps, this, this tiger who speaks through me has, has a family. Yes, a family of kittens. And naturally, being tigers, they would be striped?”

  She grinned at him. “You are a terrible liar.”

  “I know.”

  “Do you think I’m naive?”

  “Did I say that too?”

  “No. No, just asking. Do you?”

  “Well, perhaps. After a fashion.”

  She sighed and tossed the stick to the side of the road.

  “Figures.”

  “But that’s not necessarily a bad thing, my dear. It connotes a certain pureness of heart, one that is not encountered nearly enough in these days. It is something that we at Sha’Hadin seek for years on end to achieve.”

  “Naivety? You seek to achieve naivety?”

  “No, but a form of it. Innocence. Guilelessness. Lack of prejudice. Those sorts of things.”

  “Oh. Wow. I should have been a monk.”

  He patted her hand, wisely choosing to hold his tongue, and together, they continued the last leg of the journey, down to the Inn on the Roof of the World.

  And at a broken window, high atop the Inn on the Roof of the World, a figure stood, thinking and planning and wishing he had never seen the madness that was about to befall them, a madness which would so completely crack the foundations of the Matriarchy and send their Kingdom crumbling into utter chaos. As he stood there, high above the Roof of the World, he cursed himself for ever thinking he could possibly be Enough.

  Truth be told, he wasn’t certain there was anyone who was.

  Insight and Far

  The sun was sinking down behind strange, unfamiliar peaks, but nonetheless, in the distance, he could still count torches dotting into existence as shadows fell across home and farm alike. Not so different, Kirin thought, and perhaps no different at all. The thought afforded him some measure of comfort for he had found none these past hours as he sat by the broken window in the Inn at the Roof of the World. In fact, he was grateful for it, for tonight, comfort was a blanket he could not chance wearing.

  Tonight, the falcon had returned.

  There was a knock at his door.

  “Come.”

  He recognized the footfall immediately and smiled as his brother dropped himself down at his side.

  “Hello Kirin. You been here all day?”

  “I have.” He reached over, to run his thumb along the needlework of Kerris’ new cuff. “Very nice.”

  “Glad you like it. You paid for it, after all.”

  That brilliant smile flashed for him, brighter even than the setting sun and for a brief instant, the Captain’s burdens seemed to lift a little from his shoulders. His brother had uncanny abilities.

  “The Scholar tells me you got a note from the Empress tonight.”

  Kirin looked down. He was still clutching the parchment tightly in his grasp, crushed and well worn from reading. It smelled faintly of lotus.

  “Yes.”

  “So we’re heading out in the morning, are we?”

  “Yes.”

  “But not to DharamShallah.”

  “No.”

  “Can you tell me where?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Ah. Well. That’s always good news for a Guide, isn’t it? Now how about why?”

  Kirin weighed the question carefully, his response even more so.

  “Kerris, there is a threat to the Kingdom. A threat which may overturn everything we know. Destroy our society. Change things.”

  “Dogs?”

  “Worse.”

  “We haven’t finished then, have we?”

  He finally turned to regard his twin, as blue eyes met blue for several long moments.

  “No, we have not finished.”

  “And you really don’t know where we are going?”

  “We should find that out tonight.”

  “Hence the opium?”

  Kirin growled, his tail lashing once as it lay curled at his feet.

  “How did you know about that?”

  “I had a few drinks in the marketplace with the Alchemist. She’s been quite chummy of late. Anyway, she said you’re going to give it to the Seer, in hopes of finding out where this ‘tiger’ is hiding.”

  “Something like that.”

  Kerris shifted position on the hard mahogany floor, chewing his bottom lip a moment before speaking.

  “Well, now don’t take my head off when I tell you this, Kirin, but I have sampled minute quantities of opium on rare occasions—” He held up a grey palm. “— when I was much younger, of course. Not much, though, or often, what with it being illegal, and all...”

  The Captain glared at him.

  “Yes. Right. Anyway, it’s been my experience that opium tends to make things a little distorted, a little unreal. I would hesitate to trust anyone under its spell, let alone try to follow his directions. We could be riding in circles for days on end. In fact, we could ride straight off the edge of the earth.”

  “We have no choice, Kerris. Apparently, opium is an integral part in the Ritual of Farsight and that the monks of Sha’Hadin have been using it for generations. benAramis assures me it is quite effective.”

  “Oh, I’m sure it’s effective, Kirin,
” Kerris grinned. “I just find it funny that you, of all people, would be so ready to bend Imperial law to accomplish this task. It’s not like you.”

  “Yes, I know.” Kirin smiled now. “Perhaps somewhere, underneath all this gold, there is a small streak of silver?”

  His brother laughed easily, enjoying the compliment and the mutual good humor between them, for it did not come often enough. The Captain of the Guard was always busy with important matters, whereas nothing Kerris did was important. It was the way of things.

  He sighed and picked at a crust of mud on his yak-hide boots.

  “So, do you need my help tonight?”

  “Need it? No. Desire it? Always.”

  “I’m not sure what I can do.”

  “Neither am I.”

  Kerris turned to gaze out the window.

  “Because I think I’m having problems again...”

  The weight that had been so thankfully lifted began to slide back.

  “Problems?”

  “Forgetting problems.”

  “Oh. Those.” He nodded slowly. This was not good. “You haven’t had those for awhile.”

  “My arms. My back...” Kerris shook his head. “No recollection whatsoever.”

  “Do you remember the avalanche?”

  “There was an avalanche, then? I told you.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “So what happened?”

  “You and the Scholar almost went over a mountain edge. She climbed up your back.”

  “Ah. Right. ’Climb.’ I see. Is Quiz alright?”

  “Quiz is fine. The Alchemist gave you something for the pain. Perhaps that has affected your memory.”

  “Well you see, that’s not all.”

  Blast. This was very bad.

  “Tell me.”

  “The other morning, when I was out with the Scholar, there was an incident. She remembers it all quite vividly, but me...” He shrugged, dropping his hands into his lap. “Maybe you should find yourself another Guide, Kirin. Someone who won’t forget his way back home.”

  “Nonsense. You are the best Guide in the Kingdom, and there is no one I would rather have to lead our expedition, ‘forgetting problems’ or no. Do you understand this?”