To Walk in the Way of Lions

by H. Leighton Dickson

  They rode for the better part of the morning through this dead but alive city, when Sireth reined his horse in for a moment, hand raised. Fallon expected the falcon to slice the air in one of her dramatic entrances, but that did not happen. Instead, he sat quite still for several moments, eyes closed, then released a long-held breath.

  He looked at the Captain. “We should go,” he said finally.

  “Right,” said Kerris, and sprang from the back of his mountain pony. “Let’s find this ‘tiger’ and get him home. Nothing like a good old fashioned drag back to a palace to make a fellow feel welcome.”

  Jaw setting, Kirin dismounted as well. He put his hands on his hips and looked around. The tall, crumbling buildings, beams exposed in places like the ribs of a half-eaten carcass, vines stringing overhead, and many birds. They were so high, so free. They could come and go as they wished, had no Bushido to follow, no code of ethics to dictate their fates. The heaviness sank back down on him, and he turned to his brother.

  “Kerris.”

  His brother stared back at him, that flash of something appearing yet again. It broke his heart. Twenty-four years of striving. Twenty-four years of conflict. Even now, on the threshold of the most important event in the history of the Upper Kingdom, on the threshold of most important event in the life of Kirin Wynegarde-Grey (and ultimately, the last) and still they could not lay it down. Kerris would never understand.

  Perhaps it was for the best.

  Kirin shoved the ache far, far down.

  “Kerris, the Seer and I will go find Solomon. I need you to stay here with the Scholar and the horses.”

  Kerris, for his part, turned to him and stared. Simply stared.

  Kirin stepped forward. “The Major…” For some reason, his throat constricted. It was difficult to speak. He pushed it deeper. “The Major will watch over you…and the Scholar. You will need to…to watch over her. There may be dangers here. In this part of the city. Be alert. Be careful, Kerris. Please be careful.”

  There was so much more he wanted to say. Set alMassay free. Take care of Mother. Settle down somewhere with this tigress, raise kittens, be happy. But there was a flatness in Kerris’ blue eyes, a curl of the lip that looked most unnatural on one so animated. It struck like a blade to the heart. He stopped his heart from racing, stopped his hand from reaching out. He could not allow himself to be deterred now. So with a deep drawing of breath, he made his will steel and forced all thoughts of his brother from his mind.

  He turned and, with the Seer leading, headed down the overgrown street deep into the devoured heart of the city.

  Kerris watched him go for a very long time, before turning in the opposite direction and storming off down an entirely different street. Fallon sprang off her horse and ran after him, scrambling through shrubs and shattered stone.

  Ursa watched as both parties disappeared from view. Yet again, she found herself conflicted. Her charge, her orders. Her charge, her orders. She made a decision, slipped from her mount and followed.

  ***

  She could hear him muttering as he walked, but it was difficult to catch up, for he was moving quickly and the footing was uneven. But finally, he slowed to a stop near a low square ivy-covered building, with a doorway open to the shadows. He placed a grey hand flat upon the green wall, and dropped his head, shoulders sagging.

  She was puffing as she scrambled up beside him, reaching her own hand out to touch him, to reassure him, and also, to keep herself from falling. He didn’t respond for a long time, almost as if he weren’t aware, but finally he did take it in his and pulled her palm to his lips. She was surprised. He then pulled all of her to him, her waist, her hips, her mouth, and he kissed her eagerly, almost desperately and she thought her bones might break from his grip. She could have sworn she tasted tears. Finally, his hands and breathing slowed and he held her, simply held her, swaying slightly as if to music and kissing little kisses on her neck, forehead, throat. She sank into him, lost every time.

  “Where shall we go then?” he asked, gently stroking her hair from her forehead.

  She searched his face for some clue as to what he was asking. Yes, tears. Most definitely. “What do you mean? Now? ‘Go then’ now?”

  “No, love. When all of this is over, of all the places in the Kingdom you’ve dreamt of going, where shall we go?”

  “You mean, other than Pol’Lhasa?”

  “Please, any place other than Pol’Lhasa.”

  “Well, I do like the jungle…”

  “The jungle it is! Which jungle, for there are many? The jungles of Hindaya, of LanLandesh, of Shiam? How about Nam? Very hot and jungley there…”

  “Oh, um, sure. Any of those are nice, but the university is in Pol’Lhasa…”

  “What about the Eastern Kingdom? I could show you some amazing Chi’Chen jungles that would take your breath away. They’re wonderful people, monkeys are, once they get to know you. Very hospitable, very entertaining.”

  She leaned into him. “I think I’d like to go back to the University.”

  “Well, yes, to pack your things, naturally. But after that.”

  “I’d like to finish my studies…”

  He cupped her face in his hands. “But we talked about this, didn’t we? You won’t be allowed back in if you’re being a-courted by a lion. Not even a Royal one.”

  She bit her lip, suddenly aware of where this was going. “Well,” she said softly, “We could keep it a secret…”

  It was the wrong thing, she knew, as soon as it left her lips, for he shifted in her arms. “A secret?”

  “Well, no, that’s not really what I meant. I meant that, um, maybe we could, um, live somewhere in the city but that, that I could, you know, go…to the university…on my own… And you, you could keep going on adventures for the Empress. You know, like the way things were before, only better…” She sounded pathetic, she knew that as well. He had warned her about this and she had assured him she was able but now she wasn’t sure and she watched as the realization played out across his face. Oh, this was so very bad.

  “It’s just, it’s just I’m not sure, you know? I want so many things. I want to do so many things. I want to know so many things—“

  “It’s all right, love,” he said, smiling sadly. “I understand.”

  “No, no I don’t think you do. I don’t think I said it right. I want you. I do. I want to be a-courted by you. But I wish…” For once, Fallon Waterford’s words ran out. She leaned her head on his chest. “I just wish life was different.”

  “So do I.”

  She could have sworn there were fresh tears.

  And he took her by the elbows to move her away from his body, and she let him, feeling all the will drain from her limbs. He smiled again, but it was different this time, and took several steps backwards before swinging around and heading back up the street. She wiped her own tears with the back of her hand, and struck out to follow.

  When high on the rooftop above them, the falcon cried.

  ***

  Kirin cupped a hand over his eyes and scanned the skies. It was very bright this morning, and it made him wish for the keffiyeh of the desert to provide a little relief from the sun. He dropped his hand to his hip and turned to the Seer, who seemed quite content to pick his way over the rough terrain of the city.

  “Sidi, are we near?”

  “Perhaps.”

  Kirin ground his molars. He had lost his patience hours ago, months ago if he was honest, and it was not something he could afford at the moment.

  “Where is the falcon?”

  “Ah yes. Path. Well, ah…” benAramis too looked up to the skies, but finally returned his odd, one-eyed gaze to the Captain. He clasped his gloved hands together. “I’m a terrible liar, Captain. I think you know this by now. Path is not here. She is with Solomon…” and he swung his arm back in the direction they had come. “That way…”

  Kirin stared at him.

  “That way?”

  “Ye
s.”

  “Solomon is that way?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why? Why are we this way? Why would you take me away from Solomon?”

  “I am no fool, Captain. You cannot hide your plans from me. From anyone else perhaps, but not me. You intend to kill Solomon to protect the Empire, then yourself to restore honor. I am not going to journey to the ends of the earth and beyond, only to have you kill two people simply because of a twisted code of ethics. I do not share your Bushido, Captain. And neither does your brother.”

  “Kerris?” He frowned. “What does Kerris have to do with this?”

  And suddenly he knew.

  And he turned and bolted back down the rough and rocky path toward the horses.

  ***

  “Kerris?” she called in a soft, befuddled voice.

  It was the falcon, Path of Sha’Hadin. She could tell by the tattered talon leathers that hung from her thin legs. It’s head cocked from one side to the other, and it shifted position just above the gaping doorway of the building.

  She peered inside.

  “Kerris? I think there’s someone in here…”

  And without waiting for him, she took first one step, then another, and soon was swallowed by darkness.

  ***

  There was no one with the horses.

  “Where are they?!” he growled as the Seer ambled up behind him.

  benAramis made a face. “Ah, well, yes, perhaps—“

  Kirin leaned in, his brow dark and low. “Tell me now, sidi. I will not ask again.”

  The Seer grew still for a moment, then glanced up at the Captain.

  “This way.”

  And he struck out down an entirely different road, with low mossy buildings on either side.

  ***

  “Sidala?” Kerris peered into the blackness. “Sidala, please. These places are dangerous and I am in no mood.”

  He saw a shape slip in the darkness and followed as it pressed itself into a corner.

  “Please, sidala. You’d best come out of there—“

  The shape stepped out of the shadows and hoisted a thick, rusted pipe high in the air above his head.

  Kerris felt his heart leap to his throat. He could not believe his eyes. He could not move.

  “Hey, Kerris,” came Fallon’s voice as she crunched through the rubble behind him. “I’m sorry. I really thought I heard some—“

  She breathed in sharply, a hand flying to her mouth.

  “Oh mother…”

  Shielding the tigress with his body, Kerris began to back up, stumbling across the broken floor as the figure advanced, pipe still held high. Within moments, they were both flattened against the wall, trapped. The pipe began to slice the air in front of them, making terrible whooshing sounds in the quiet.

  Kerris held up his hands, still pressing the Scholar back against the stone. “Please, sahidi. Please.”

  “…oh mother…”

  “Idiots!” The sound of sharp, angry clacking filled the building. “I have been looking and looking –“

  Major Ursa Laenskaya froze, a small slim silhouette in the doorway, as she surveyed the scene before her. The figure whirled and raised the pipe in her direction, shouted something unintelligible. Her sword clattered to the floor and she immediately followed, dropping first to her knees then to her elbows, touching the ground with her forehead in the most formal of bows.

  “Sahidi!”

  Eyes wide, Fallon peered over Kerris’ shoulder.

  “Solomon…?”

  The figure stood still for several heartbeats before lowering his pipe with a moan.

  “What the hell is going on?” said Solomon.

  ***

  He could not believe what was going on.

  The Seer had played him, had likely been playing him for weeks, perhaps months, perhaps since the Inn at the Roof of the World when Kirin had made the dangerous realization of what the Bushido would demand of him. The Seer had to have known. It was a matter of course. There would be no way to hide from such a mind as his.

  And he cursed himself for it.

  The falcon cried as she sailed into view above the shrubs and broken rock that was the street. She dipped a wing and circled, and just below her, a party of shapes came into focus, wavering in the heat of the late morning sun.

  His heart sank like a stone.

  The Major was leading them like a sliver arrow, the Scholar on one side, his brother on the other, both with hands laid on the fourth, a ragged figure in strange clothing. In fact, he was almost as hairy as a dog, this fourth companion, with a beard that made Sireth’s look like a mere tiger stripe, and like the Seer, his eyes were as brown as the earth after a rain. But what he could not take his eyes from was the man’s pelt. Or lack, thereof.

  Skin alone, pale and smeared with grime, much like the face of a Chi’Chen but even more so. The stuff of legend, of history, of ancestry. A forefather. An Ancestor.

  And he could see it now, as plainly as that lack of pelt, how Kerris and Fallon walked beside him, beaming with wonder, touching him with awe, with reverence and adoration. He could see how the Empire would fall, as every cat would flock to see this Ancestor, to bring homage, to bring worship and loyalty and there would be anarchy in the streets as Imperial rule was abandoned in favor of an older, more dangerous way.

  His hand fell to the hilt of his sword.

  Solomon walked toward him, walking very much as a cat walked, and his smile, bright against the filth of his skin, broadened as he neared. And he did not stop. He continued right up to the Captain, reaching out his grimy, flat-clawed hands and pulling him into a great embrace, laughing as he did so. It was so hard to remain detached, to remain formal or mercenary, with such an amiable soul.

  “Solomon,” He tried to remove himself from the man’s grip. It was difficult. The man did not want to let go. “Solomon, I am Kirin Wynegarde-Grey, Captain of the Queen’s Guard.”

  “Captain,” the man was saying. “Captain, I’m so glad to see you all.” He slapped the Captain’s back several times before pulling himself away. There were tears shining in his brown eyes.

  “And you…” He turned as Sireth ambled up to the Captain’s side, smiling like the sun. “You must be my host?”

  “Sireth benAramis. I am honored to finally meet you, sidi.”

  But a bow was not enough, for they embraced like old friends and Kirin envied the Seer the ease with which he lived his life. Suddenly, the Bushido felt like chains.

  He looked at Kerris, saw the glint in his brother’s eye, the curl of his lip. Felt the stab of betrayal in his heart, although Kerris had been as played as he. There was no killing Solomon now. Kerris would see to it. The Seer was a master.

  He needed to think.

  He needed to think.

  He glanced at the faces, each wearing vastly different expressions. “I believe it is time for tea…”

  And he turned and headed back for the horses where the stores were waiting.

  ***

  The end of the human race had not been a speedy thing.

  It had been the year 2109 AD when the population of the planet reached 30 billion, and resources were perceived as scarce. Whether or not they actually were scarce was a matter for debate – agricultural science had grown extremely efficient, and industrial hydroponics could easily have fed more than half the planet with healthy, organic food. Global regulatory systems had been set in place for sharing those resources but ultimately had failed to function and soon, as many as were born, died of want. As a result, nations went to war over these resources and many more died. Weapons were as sophisticated as they were brutal and not only cities disappeared, but entire regions were rendered uninhabitable. The destruction of Israel had created a ‘dead zone’ for decades after simultaneous bombings from its neighbors Iran, Iraq and Syria. Still, even in such a state, the human race survived.

  The plagues, however, started in 2153.

  Genetically engineered viruses began to
systematically wipe out entire genomes of the human population, as warring countries vied for resources. Countries such as India, Pakistan, Korea and China (also known as the Independent Asian Republics) emerged as scientific powerhouses and with no human rights protocols to hinder the progress of research in areas such as microbiology, virology, cloning and gene splicing, the western world struggled to keep pace. The European Union of States claimed the first western success with rat/monkey hybrids. These creatures, while marvels of genetic engineering, were impossible to contain and the entire EUS state of Great Britain became a self-contained wasteland, undone by its very own hand. Soon, it became apparent that measures needed to be taken to ensure that a remnant of humanity survived.

  The IAR chose engineering, building on the EUS’s ‘success’ with animal interspecies hybrids before attempting the more complex feats of human-animal gene splicing. The logical choices – the great apes – were far too similar genetically to escape the variety of diseases that had been created, and soon, human-monkey hybrids were being tested for viability and adaptability. There had been rumors of other, more bizarre combinations, ie human-cat, human-dog, and even human-bear, but scientific communications between nations had long ceased, so there was no way to verify such wild and fanciful reports.

  The EUS chose Ark projects, establishing independent but collaborating cryogenic stations deep within neutral territories, each buried a half-kilometer beneath the surface of the earth. Three sites were chosen for their geological, tectonic, meteorological and political stability – Marathon, in the heart of the Canadian Shield, Kalgoorlie Australia and Kandersteg, Switzerland. These were ideal homes for the international research facilities known as the SANDMAN Projects. As the rest of the planet battled disease, genetically-mutated plague, biological terrorism and nuclear fallout, these three shelters were the cradle of hope for humanity’s survival, a living arsenal of scholars and scientists, artists and engineers. Each facility boasted incredible subterranean archives of research and raw data, history, art, literature and music. Each possessed resources enough to jump-start human civilization – people and possessions frozen in time, awaiting the cue from a satellite in high orbit to awaken and begin life all over again, if it came to that.