“But it’s jewelry,” Asmodeus said. “Jewels to match your eyes.” I’ve heard human males say that to females. Let us see if it works on conceited cats.
The young cat turned toward him again. “What about my eyes?”
“They are akin to grand jewels, lovely one. Wouldn’t you desire something that would make them sparkle like a star?”
Kezia put her entire weight on her paw, keeping Asmodeus pinned to the dirt floor of the storehouse.
“You’re lying.”
“No, I assure you I am not.”
“Yes, you must be. You’re a liar and a thief. You’ve been eating the grain and other foodstuffs stored in the compound. What you don’t eat, you ruin with your nasty castings.” Kezia drew back her other paw again.
“Stay your paw! I shall bring you a bracelet of topaz stones. It belongs to one of the camp followers and she will not dare to say it is missing,” Asmodeus insisted.
“What would I do with a woman’s bracelet? And what is a camp follower?”
“You have led far too sheltered a life; but that does not concern me now. You are so fine boned, do you not realize a woman’s bracelet would easily clasp about your neck, to serve as a collar fit for a queen?”
“Fine boned?” Kezia tilted her head. “Well—I am, compared to Abishag, at least.” She giggled. “Abishag’s legs look like mushroom stems, or little stumps.”
Asmodeus saw his escape dawning. “Exactly. Someone of your refinement deserves jewelry for her neck, to set off her richly colored fur. Show the world what a fine lady cat you are.”
“What are topaz stones?”
“They have the same golden hints and hues within their depths as your own eyes, my beautiful young cat. Everyone would remark on the resemblance.” Asmodeus finished talking and lay quietly, watching Kezia think.
“But wouldn’t that also be stealing?”
“Not from a detested camp follower, foolish one. They’re wicked, lewd women. No one regards them with anything more than a sneer.”
“Do you promise not to destroy any more grain?” she asked the rat sternly, shifting her weight again.
“Cease the ponderous movements of your feet.” Asmodeus grunted. “Your true aggregate weight is cloaked by your fur.”
“What?”
“I’ll cease dining on Roman grain,” he said, keeping his good eye trained on a knothole in the wooden wall of the granary. I believe that will serve my purpose. I can surely contort myself enough to squeeze through that opening.
Kezia sighed. The bracelet sounds so pretty; I’ve never had pretty things. Ptolemy always said they would only make me vain, but just this one time I should like to appear as a fine lady cat. “If I let you go, will you—will you bring me the bracelet?”
“Yes!” Asmodeus leaped free of Kezia’s paw and dashed for the knothole before she changed her mind. “I’ll bring it to you tonight,” he called back through the knothole, smirking at the tabby. “And you may reward me with a kiss.” He laughed crudely and vanished.
Kezia shivered and went to find water in which to wash her paw. It stunk so of Asmodeus, she didn’t want to put her tongue on it to wash it.
Very late that night, Kezia slipped out of Gracus’s quarters, leaving Ira and Abishag asleep in their basket. She had lain awake, excitedly trying to picture in her mind the promised topaz stones. But he’s not coming, she told herself after half an hour had passed. The only sound was the sentinel, walking his regular round inside the barricaded walls. I let him go because of his promise and he’s made a fool of me. I hope the others never find out that I had him pinned and yet let him go.
Just then she heard a muted clinking sound to her left. Emerging from the shadows was the large rat, dragging something that glittered as the last rays of the setting moon struck it.
Kezia ran to Asmodeus, meeting him in the middle of the hard-packed dirt in front of the legionnaires’ barracks.
“Asmodeus! You brought my bracelet! I mean—you brought my collar!”
“Quiet!” he snapped. “I risked my life to bring this bauble to you, and you announce it to the entire barracks? Where are your wits? Have you none?”
Kezia narrowed her eyes. “I could catch you again—and not turn you loose this time,” she threatened.
“Nonsense,” Asmodeus muttered, tugging at the clasp with his broken tooth and forepaws. “There—I have the clasp open. Turn your back to me and I shall fasten it about your neck.”
A cold fear fluttered in Kezia’s stomach. “No, you may fasten it under my chin, while you stand between my paws,” she told him. She stepped in front of the rat. “Now you can’t bite me and sever my spinal cord from behind. If you try to put an end to me by biting my throat, my claws will still mortally wound you even as I die.”
For a long moment they faced each other. Asmodeus weighed his odds. I had no idea she was that intelligent. She can add up facts and infer plans from them. Hmm. Well, let her have her silly treasure. I can yet turn this situation to my advantage.
Standing on his hind feet, he pushed one end of the bracelet over the back of Kezia’s neck, then bent under her throat and pulled the clasp and ring of the bracelet together. As he bit the clasp to close it, he snarled, “There! Are you satisfied, you conceited little harpy?” And Asmodeus scuttled into the shadows once again.
Ignorant of what a harpy was, Kezia raised her head high. My, it’s heavy. It must be real gold! I will look at myself in the puddles by the stream once the sun comes up.
A few short hours later, Kezia was admiring herself in a wide puddle by the little stream that flowed through the permanent Roman camp. He told the truth. My eyes do match the topaz stones. She leaned farther over the puddle. I hope he fastened the clasp completely. I wouldn’t want to—Oh! The mud! The mud’s slick because of the stream! With cries rendered inaudible by the splash that followed them, Kezia fell headfirst into the swiftly flowing water. She tried to fight her way up to the surface, flailing her paws and choking on the water rushing into her mouth and nose during her futile efforts to yowl for help. I’m going to drown! No one knows where I am. They will only find my body after I’m dead!
Suddenly a sharp jerk on the bracelet stopped her tumble downstream, and she glimpsed Abishag’s sturdy little legs through the swirls of water and foaming bubbles.
Abishag’s mouth hurt, and her neck and shoulders ached from the strain of holding Kezia’s body against the force of the water. Oh, my, Kezia’s heavy. I don’t know if I can hold her for long—I can’t pull her to the bank as I thought I could. And what has she around her neck? I tried to catch her by the scruff—but something metallic tasting is in the way. What do I do? Then, with joy, she heard Citus running behind her, his sandals slapping the ground. Strong arms reached over her head and the servant’s hands grasped the tabby cat.
Abishag turned loose her hold on Kezia and half swam, half waded over to the bank. Citus pulled Kezia into his arms, then turned her upside down and slapped her back. Kezia coughed, and a small amount of water ran out her nose and mouth. More water streamed from her fur after Citus set her back on the ground. “There, young one. The gods have smiled upon you and misfortune has not taken you early to meet them!”
Abishag touched her nose to Kezia’s. “How did you fall into the stream?” The tabby cat’s fur was so wet and matted, Abishag failed to see the heavy gold and topaz bracelet around her neck. Kezia shook herself hard, soaking her first rescuer’s fur. Then the little black cat saw the gleam of jewels. “That’s what I caught in my mouth! Where did you get that beautiful collar?”
“None of your business!” Kezia hissed, and she ran as fast as her wobbly legs would carry her to a patch of grass and sunlight, where she licked herself dry and into contentment once again.
When the several companies assembled for their midday meal, Kezia proudly walked along the line of strong legs, brushing against the men she favored and arching her back to be patted. Most of the soldiers made admiring comments,
telling the tabby how fine she looked in her new collar. She preened and strutted until she wound herself around the camp commander’s ankles—and was seized by hands that felt like bands of metal.
“Why is this creature wearing my Polla’s bracelet?” The legatus’s voice bellowed the question not two inches from Kezia’s ears. She wiggled and tried to escape his grasp, but he held her by the scruff of her neck until she quit struggling and hung limply from his hand.
GRACUS HAD NO idea why he had been summoned from his meal to the commander’s private quarters. But the uneasy feeling within his chest grew as he hurried through the open door and saw his tabby cat, crouched in a leather box with the lid partly covering the opening.
“What is wrong, Legatus?” The commander’s slave woman, Polla, silently stood behind her master’s chair.
“Why is your cat—for I am told it is your cat—wearing my slave’s bracelet about its neck? Is it a tasteless prank?”
Inwardly Gracus sighed. No matter if someone in his company’s ranks had done this as a joke, it still had fallen upon his head. “I do not know, sir. If you would permit me, I will remove the bracelet and return it to its rightful owner at once. And I shall question my men.”
The commander raised one eyebrow and his patrician upper lip in a sneer. “You have not placed her bracelet upon the animal?”
“No, sir. I had not even heard of the thoughtless prank until this moment.”
The slave Polla, beautiful and tall, whose thick blond braid hung down her back, hesitantly stepped forward and stood at her master’s side.
“I am one who did this—prank?—you speak of,” her voice was guttural, her Latin rough and uneducated.
The commander twisted his head to stare up at her. “Why? Did you think I give you baubles as playthings for vermin catchers? Or that the bracelet, which cost me three hundred sesterces, was worthless?”
“No, master. I grieve for my home. There I had cat, since I was little girl; young. I put bracelet on cat and admire cat; cat run away. It was a stupid thing. I am sorry.”
The commander returned his stare to Gracus. “Obviously all women are foolish beings, who think only of playing and gossiping. Gracus, strip that cat of the bracelet and I will hear no more of this.” He stood and strode from the room.
Without a word, Gracus stepped to the leather box and extricated Kezia. He removed the bracelet roughly and dropped it onto the commander’s chair. He cast only one look at Polla from under his eyebrows as he turned to leave the room, a drooping Kezia under his arm, but was startled by her composure and her beauty.
“Thank you,” he said awkwardly, unsure as to her motive for such an action—and such a lie. For he knew she was not telling the truth. He stalked out of the room, inexplicably angry with himself and with Polla. Surely she will be beaten. Why did she tell such a lie? Was she attempting to protect the cat, or me? She is so very beautiful—perhaps—perhaps if the commander tires of her, as he has tired of so many other women before, I may purchase her. Her speech is untutored and harsh to the ears. But Citus could easily remedy that. And it would be pleasant to return to my tent when we are on a campaign and have her waiting there.
7
A WEEK LATER, Gracus went to the stables to see about his chariot horse. It was still early in the morning, and Polla stood in the doorway to the commander’s quarters. She looked at the centurion and dropped her head, watching him from under her lashes. He stopped and waited until she raised her head again.
“My servant related to me a most amazing tale,” he began and stepped a few paces closer. She is beautiful; only see her eyes. I wonder how much the legatus paid for her. Would she go with me willingly?
“My foolish cat was punished for her theft, for she nearly drowned in the stream while wearing your beautiful bracelet. My servant rescued her by plucking her from the current. But what renders the story amazing—he swore to me her sister cat was trying to keep the tabby from being swept downstream.”
She drew her eyebrows together, concentrating on his words. “I understand you. That one cat tried to hold fast the other?”
“So Citus insists.”
She smiled at him. “They is—are—remarkable creatures, cats. I think they much kinder than humans eventimes.”
He was a little puzzled. “Do you mean sometimes?”
“That must be the word, yes.” She turned to go inside, and Gracus’s eyes narrowed as he saw thin scabs from the whipping she had received still evident upon the backs of her arms. The skin on her back must be torn to shreds. The legatus was too harsh with her.
She cleared her throat. “Is it you will permit me to enjoy your cats—sometimes?”
“Do you mean you wish to play with them?”
“Please, yes.”
“Certainly you may do so. I would gladly give you one of them, but they are seldom apart. And as I dreamed of them traveling together, I fear the gods might be angry if I separated them.”
She nodded and left the doorway. Gracus resumed walking toward the stables, his mind no longer on his horse.
A few weeks later, the summer days and nights differed only by a few degrees’ temperature from one another, and the cats sought the shade of the trees. Polla whiled away the hot hours by playing with the young cats.
Abishag lay a little apart from the others in the shade. Washing a front paw, she was trying not to think about how overly warm she was when she heard a voice call her name.
“Abishag, my young feline,” the voice began. She lifted her nose and sniffed, then scowled.
“Asmodeus—phew! It has to be you—no one else stinks as badly as you do. What do you want?”
“No need to be rude, my dear cat,” Asmodeus cautioned and moved toward her slightly. “I merely wanted to inquire as to your future plans.”
“Future plans?”
“Well, you seem to be dallying here at the garrison quarters such a long time. Are you not supposed to be traveling in search of the Messiah?”
Abishag’s eyes grew round as she gasped, “What do you know of our mission to find the Messiah?”
The rat sat upon his haunches and picked up his tail with one paw, smoothing and caressing it with the other.
“I know everything, my kitten. You must remember I heard you and the old cat, whispering and planning secretly while the others slept, unknowing and unworried.”
“What do you mean? We had no secret plans.”
Asmodeus snickered. “No? You did not tell them of the hunger, the bad weather, and the dangers they would be facing, did you? Nor did you tell them they might not ever eturn home.”
The small black cat shivered. His tone of voice was insinuating, evil. It made her fur feel as if something had brushed it the wrong way. She drew a breath and deliberately began washing her paw again to give herself time to think. I am sure my foster sister and brother knew of the terrible dangers we would all face as we traveled. Ptolemy did not try to hide anything from us. We felt we were indeed chosen by a greater power than we to make this journey.
“Isn’t it peculiar the old cat, that devout religious scholar, did not come with you? Did he know the odds of three unsophisticated cats—such young, naive ones—succeeding, especially without a wiser head to guide you? I would assume his paws would be first upon the path; that is, if he believed his own words about the prophecies.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Ptolemy could not accompany us because he has to care for the old astronomer. He would gladly have come with us otherwise.”
Asmodeus draped his ugly, broken tail over his forepaw as if it were a toga. He looked at it instead of at Abishag, continuing, “Such loyalty is touching. It warms my heart to hear you speak so highly of the old cat. He will be gratified when I speak to him of your steadfastness.”
Abishag snorted. “Ptolemy won’t listen to anything you have to say. Now leave before I pounce on you.”
With a smile that merely stretched the corners of his mouth, Asmodeus edged close to th
e cat and leaned toward her ear. “He will hear what I have to say to him if I am the only one who returns.” The rat slipped into the shadows under the trees once again.
Rising to her feet, Abishag stretched and yawned, doing her best to appear unconcerned in case the wily rat was still watching. Her tail up and her head high, she calmly walked back to Gracus’s quarters. The other two cats would not know of the worries the rat’s whispers had caused to reappear, nor how fast her little heart was beating.
8
ANOTHER TWO WEEKS passed. Gracus purchased Polla and then moved them all into larger quarters, stolidly enduring the good-natured ribbing of his men.
They had been at the garrison headquarters now for seven weeks. Ira’s leg was healed and strong once again even though the long bone was crooked. “As long as it doesn’t keep me from marching with the men, I don’t care,” he told his foster sisters. Kezia rolled her eyes.
“I don’t think anyone would mistake you for a Roman soldier, Ira,” she told him, cuffing him lightly with her paw. She settled herself in their basket again and yawned.
Gracus suddenly appeared in the doorway. Polla looked up from laboriously stitching a tunica for him and smiled.
“You have received your new orders, master,” she stated, judging circumstances from the look upon his face.
“I have, and we go to the harbor in two days, to sail for Tyre. From there I shall proceed to Zeugma, to assist in training men for the legions in Anatolia. That may assist my career exceedingly, for those eight legions are responsible for guarding the trade routes to the far lands and protecting our eastern borders.”
“What is this Tyre?” Polla asked. “And what do you mean, that you shall train the men? You do not go alone, forgetting us!”
“Your command of the language is surely increasing.” Gracus grinned at her. “Most especially if you now can argue in Latin instead of your mother tongue.”
Three Wise Cats Page 3