by Alma Boykin
Thinking of life-or-death, she mused, what do I need to do for the junior dedication ceremony, anyway? And when is it? If it’s during hunting season the priest is going to have to take no for an answer, unless King-Emperor Shar will grant me a leave from the hunt.
The next day Rada looked up the information. “Oh, that’s all there is to it? No wonder I’ve never noticed it before.” The entire ceremony boiled down to all the juniors in the village lining up in the temple, some of them lighting incense to their Ancestors, and the priest blessing the entire lot. Then they went home and their families had little parties for them. Traditionally, the ceremony took place in the spring. “Well, yes, since that’s when all the other young things hatch or sprout,” she thought aloud. Data gathered and date noted, Rada put the matter out of her mind. Surviving the last of the miserable, sticky, prickly, stifling summer heat held much higher priority on her list of things to do. Preferably surviving it without biting the head off some unsuspecting soul who happened to rub her fur the wrong way by accident.
Rada put the matter so far out of her mind that when Father Kreesh approached her about it shortly before the spring equinox, she blinked at him for several seconds before she remembered what she’d agreed to do. It didn’t help that she’d been short on sleep for the last few days because of nightmares and flashbacks, and her mental data retrieval system seemed to be running a century or so behind. “Oh, yes, you said that you’d explain what you wanted me to do closer to the date of the ceremony.”
“Yes, Lord Mammal. I’ve been doing some research into older forms of the rite, and I want you to give the final blessing. Originally, as best I can tell,” and he rubbed under his muzzle with one talon, “the manor lord, as head of the Lineage, gave the blessing, and since you are the manor lord in all but name, and a Healer as well as warrior, and Head of House Ni Drako, I think it would be most appropriate for you to bless the juniors.”
Rada burst out laughing, a cold, bitter sound that filled her office. The brown striped reptile, neck spines quivering, stared at her. When she caught her breath, she repeated, “You want me, the Emperor’s Sword, the Butcher of Red Hills, to bless the juniors? By all that you hold holy, Father Kreesh, you’ll doom those poor little ones.”
Kreesh tipped his head to the side. He ventured to walk around Rada’s desk and peered up at her, then rose onto his hind legs before sitting on his haunches, now slightly taller than his overlord. “Why do you say that, Lord Mammal?”
She made the Azdhag negation gesture with her left hand. “You don’t want to know Father. Suffice it to say that I kill anything I touch.”
He snorted. “I served in the Imperials, my lord. I hear the gossip, insinuations, and confessions of everyone in this manor house and in the village and settlements, my lord. Pardon my bluntness, but what makes you any worse than the rest of us?”
“I’ve killed close to a hundred sapient creatures, most of it done with malice aforethought, but I was unable to save my own junior. I sent her attackers to the lords of hell, but not until they’d... And I used the Healer’s touch to kill, not to Heal.” Rada slouched in the chair, arms folded, tail thrashing, ears almost flat, eye narrow. “I’m not fit to bless anything, least of all innocent juniors.”
Kreesh patted the floor with his tail as he thought about her words. “My lord, you are a warrior and a hunter. You are as your gods made you, just as we Azdhagi are pack predators as our Ancestors before us.” He rumpled his tail in a shrug. “I do not expect shootee to sing or fly. I do not expect talkak to eat grass. Shardi do not live in the Zhangki River. How can you be other than your nature?”
“It’s not that simple,” Rada started, stopping as she realized, No, for the Azdhagi it is that simple. Some are born warriors, some are born farmers, some merchants. You can be born into the ‘wrong’ family, but your true nature will surface. “I still don’t think I’m the best choice to give the blessing.”
Kreesh all but rolled his eyes. “Best is not found in this world, Lord Mammal. You are the manor lord. This is tradition. You will give the blessing.” He tapped the floor with a hind claw as he counted off his points.
“Very well.”
And so, two sixts later, a very bemused mammal found herself standing in the shadows of the inner room of the village temple at Singing Pines. The remains of hundreds of years of incense smoke blackened the ceiling beams and walls, obscuring the carvings and painted figures that twined along the length of the heavy pillars and logs. She stood with her back to the outside wall, the main entry and forecourt on her right and the altars to the Ancestors on her left, or strong-side as the Azdhagi called it. At least the incense isn’t as bad as some I’ve had to smell. The spring blend reminded her of blooming trees and fresh cress. Outside, she could hear the sound of Azdhagi talking in the forecourt.
“Enter and be welcome,” Father Kreesh invited from the temple’s porch. At his words, and after some dragging and pushing, thirty-four juniors filed and scrambled up the steps onto the porch and then into the inner temple, sorted by size. The youngest, those just barely finished with their first growth phase, led the way, still long and clumsy looking. As they peered around, their older siblings followed, forming a second row when the first one blocked the width of the temple. It reminded Rada of the Azdhagi musical planks, tuned wooden strips arranged by size from highest pitch to lowest, and she bit her tongue to keep from laughing at the thought of tapping each junior to get a squeaky note. Bad Rada, very bad Rada, she scolded.
Their parents had dressed the juniors in their best clothes, and some of the embroidered jackets had to have been passed through the lineages for at least a hundred year-turns, judging by the embroidery and colors. The colors shone despite the dim light and Rada saw that even the poorest families had scraped together enough for a fancy jacket. The display touched Rada. Well, juniors are their treasure and their future. Even when they’re getting into mischief. She grinned as Kreesh, walking into the temple after the last junior, reached out with a hind-foot, and dragged a pair of twins apart before their hissing turned into a nipping match.
He lit the incense burner and rose onto his hind feet, walking in front of the juniors and letting the smoke flow over them. A few sneezed. One of the middle juniors, eight or nine year-turns Rada guessed, peered around and spotted Rada in the shadows, nudging his neighbor and then pointing at her. She ignored them, intent on following Fr. Kreesh. Kreesh selected six of the older juniors and they walked forward, bowing to the Imperial altar before taking unlit incense sticks from a special holder affixed to one of the wooden columns. Each lit the stick from the priests’ burner, then bowed three times to the village’s Ancestral altar, set the stick in a holder with their lineage mark on it, knocked three times on the clapper, bowed again, and returned to their place. After the last one had gotten back into line, Kreesh beckoned Rada with his tail.
She’d chosen to wear one of her court dresses, an older, simple grey dress decorated in the blue-green of her House color. Rada leaned on her fanciest cane, the one with the dragon wing handle. She’d also checked her rarely used formal headpiece out of the Imperial treasury, and the light tapping sensation as her signet stone swayed against her forehead brought back a flood of memories. Rada pushed them aside for now. She bowed a little to the Imperial altar then turned to face the juniors. She raised her hands, palms out, elbows bent, mimicking the priest.
“Be blessed, juniors. May your Ancestors guide you, may you grow as big and strong as your sires and as wise as your dams. May your tests never be stronger than your hearts. May your Ancestors give you sharp talons, strong tails, bright eyes, and good mates. May your lineages be proud to claim your names in their rolls of honor.”
She lowered her hands as Fr. Kreesh came up beside her, still on his hind legs. “Go forth from this temple into the temples of your homes.” The oldest juniors filed out, followed by the youngest. The orderly procession turned into a small stampede as the youngsters hurried to reach th
eir waiting parents so they go home, eat treats, and take off the fancy robes.
Three of the middle-sized juniors broke out of the line and instead of leaving walked back to where Rada stood. She leaned down so she could see them better. They seemed to want something, whispering and murmuring among themselves. “Yes?”
A green-robed female bobbed a little bow. “Um, Lord Mammal?”
“Yes?”
The junior looked around for adults before whispering, “Is it true that you have treats in your pouches?”
What does she mean treats? All I have is weapons and dried meat. Oh. An idea began forming in Rada’s mind, but she did her best to look stern. “You mean treats for good juniors?”
“Yes, Lord Mammal.” The trio gave her hopeful looks.
Well, just this once won’t hurt. Rada slipped one hand into the pouch with her stash of dried meat sticks in it. “And have you been good juniors? Do you help your sire and dam?”
Vigorous tail gestures and forefoot waves answered her question. “And are you kind to your siblings?”
The gestures were not quite as energetic, and Rada saw a few of what might be guilty looks. “Very well.” She gave each junior a small meat stick.
“Thank you Lord Mammal!” the female squeaked.
Rada leaned forward again. “Shoo.” They shooed, tumbling down the steps into the courtyard.
After she left by the side door, Fr. Kreesh observed, “You are going to be mobbed the next time the junior pack sees you, my lord.”
She smiled, the first smile she’d felt for a long time. “And if I am? I need to clear out my stock of dried meat anyway.”
And so it was.
About the Author
Alma T C Boykin lives somewhere between the Sierra Nevada and Appalachian Mountains, south of Canada, with the semi-obligatory writer’s cat and enough books to open up a decent-sized library.
She’s held jobs ranging from lab tech to charter pilot, and writes western history books under a different name. Over the years her research work has included military history, geology, range science, and ways to stay sane while completing an advanced degree.
She can be reached at [email protected].
Alma’s previous works include:
Justice and Juniors
Book 2 in the Cat Among Dragons series.
A collection of short stories following the exploits of Rada Ni Drako in a universe full of danger, excitement, and strange alien species.
Available from Amazon.com at:
http://www.amazon.com/Justice-Juniors-Among-Dragons-ebook/dp/B00CA95AP4
Hairballs
Short fiction from the Cat Among Dragons series.
Rada, Yori, and some of the other Scouts are unwinding from a mission when they hear that the Division is testing new battle armor. Yori gets the idea that someone needs to put the armor through its paces, and against Rada’s better judgment, Yori ropes her into the adventure.
Available from Amazon.com at:
http://www.amazon.com/Hairballs-Among-Dragons-Story-ebook/dp/B00B1DR544
Available from Kobo Books at:
http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/Hairballs/book-2AAElfAXE0GqvVYtFPvjnA/page1.html
A Cat Among Dragons
Book 1 in the Cat Among Dragons series.
They started it. Rada Ni Drako just wanted to do her job, but her father’s people declared her a corrupt half-breed, one unfit to live. Now she’s on the run and in need of a new identity and a job. When she fled back in time to join an interstellar mercenary company, she did not anticipate becoming the Pet of House Nagali, becoming the student of a mysterious but very well connected Healer and diplomat, and fighting her way into power as the only sentient mammal in the court of a reptilian empire. And falling flat on her face several times in the process.
This collection of short stories, the first in the Cat Among Dragons series, begins the saga of Rada Ni Drako and her odd assortment of allies. Join the adventure as Rada takes on her father’s people and tries to keep her head, and the rest of her, intact.
Available from Amazon.com at:
http://www.amazon.com/A-Cat-Among-Dragons-ebook/dp/B00AMNB0N6
Available from Kobo Books at:
http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/A-Cat-Among-Dragons/book-CxG93VuofUCBb8KEKoYS4A/page1.html
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