Shadows and Anguish (A Cat Among Dragons Book 8)

by Alma Boykin

  Shy-kii searched through his memory. “Commander Rada Lord Ni Drako, and female.”

  Di-dosk nodded. “And now We shall see what Our staff have done with Reh-dakh’s prizes,” as the Burnt Mountain lodge came into view, and a tease of cooking meat scent reached the four hunters. The huntsmen took the royals’ prey to be fine dressed and hung, and the two nobles went to divest themselves of their hunting harnesses and weapons.

  “The evening meal will be served in an hour, if your Imperial Majesty would like to visit the hot springs,” Di-dosk’s body servant offered after the King-Emperor had devoured a light snack.

  “We do. Bring Our evening robes to the soaking area,” the brown reptile ordered, then walked down the wooden ramp to the natural thermal pools. He shed his lounging robe and slid into the hot mineral water, rolling once or twice before settling onto the bottom of the shallow end of the hot spring, only his eyes and the top of his muzzle visible. He would not admit it, but keeping up with Shy-kii was growing harder, and his sore muscles suggested that he needed to return to daily weapons work if he was going to continue besting his heir in the future.

  Normal rules of court were suspended at the hunting estates, even more so at soaking pools, and Di-dosk didn’t blink when Lord Reh-dakh quietly slid into the coolest part of the large thermal spring. The Wanderer leaned back against the smooth stone, head resting on the rocks and good eye closed. Neither bather said anything, nor did they acknowledge Shy-kii when he slithered into the hottest waters, careful not to splash them. After a quarter hour or so the mammal slowly stood and got ready to leave the spring to her overlords. Di-dosk glanced at his Lord Defender, then stared.

  “Lord Reh-dakh, what are those white lines?” he demanded.

  The mammal hesitated, head bowed. “They are fresh scars, Imperial Majesty. My fur should cover them in a few years, the Healers say.”

  The King-Emperor eased closer, looking at the pattern. He noticed something else. “Your tail reached below your hind leg joints, did it not?”

  “Yes, Imperial Majesty.” A black nubbin shorter than his thumb talon flipped briefly, shedding a drop of water. “The external parts of my ears were also cut off,” Reh-dakh said in a flat voice. “If you will excuse me please, Imperial Majesty?” Di-dosk nodded his assent and returned to his soak.

  Damnit, I should have remembered Rada thought to herself as she dried her fur and dressed out of sight of the two reptiles. She’d not told his Imperial Majesty about what happened to her and Zabet five Azdhag moons earlier. And she’d not planned to say anything about her own experience, just how Zabet had been captured. Even though Di-dosk wasn’t a fast thinker, he was anything but stupid, and she knew he’d ask her about why she looked so bad.

  Rada pulled on her breeches, shirt, and boots, then shrugged into her heavy leather vest. It was cold at night up here in the mountains, and until her fur dried she’d chill. She went to her quarters, debating for a moment whether or not to go to supper. No, not much choice—it was her kill they’d be eating, so she’d better be there. She braided her hair tightly, twining it into a bun that she secured with an object that looked like a large, flat pin—it was actually a stiletto. She slid her bahn’leh into her sash, pausing as the door pushed open and a silver muzzle poked in, followed by a little over two meters of silvery-blue True-dragon. Zabet’s whiskers twitched, then settled gracefully as she surveyed the room.

  «Not bad, but too much wood.» She minced with exaggerated care, keeping her talons off the plank floor. Rada smiled at her “concubine,” really her business partner and good friend.

  “You could wear gloves like the nobles, or get some of those enameled wooden talon-sheathes the courtesans flourish,” the mammal pointed out, coming over to stroke her friend’s neck and scratch around the reptile’s ears.

  «Nah. I’ll just be careful and enjoy complaining.» Rada grinned at Zabet’s honest reply. «Are cheezali included in the Daimyo’s Tenth?»

  “No. I took them because I was hunting for the royal table, not for myself. Only the Imperial family can take cheezali. Decided you like fowl, have you?” Considering how good the fruit-eating game birds tasted, Rada could understand her friend’s disappointed droop.

  «Do they ever die accidently, or fall over from fright?» The True-dragon’s sapphire blue eyes had a mischievous look that her partner knew too well. «Can you eat them if they die in a winter storm?»

  “Probably, don’t even think about it, and no. Game rules are rules, silver dancer, and you know how I feel about poaching.” She turned her blind eye to discreet pot hunting by the manor folk, since there was no point in trying to push too hard to stop them from taking the pest reptiles and mammals that raided the fields and gardens, but neither Rada nor her imperial master had any tolerance for theft, waste, and wanton killing.

  «Well, go enjoy supper. I already ate.» Rada’s eye narrowed at Zabet’s contented belch.

  Rada’s eye narrowed at Zabet’s contented belch. “Do I want to know how you knew what is on the menu?”

  The small True-dragon gave her an innocent look and sprawled out in front of the wood stove. «The cook wanted the opinion of someone with a refined and delicate palate.» The Lord Defender stifled a sigh. Someone had been begging again, she suspected.

  Rada walked down the ramp to the main floor, then waited with the rest of the hunting lodge’s staff for the Imperials to arrive. There were no other guests for the evening meal—only the King-Emperor and the Crown Prince. It was a relief that hunting season was winding down, at least for the Azdhagi who had to take care of prickly nobles, who often overestimated the level of comfort at Burnt Mountain. Although the main building had been repaired over the centuries and had upgrades to its communication suite, including geothermal generators, the lodge remained exceedingly primitive. Limited running water, wood and coal fireplaces, no electricity outside the Imperial rooms and the comm center, and the absence of central heating, made the building very uncomfortable for almost seven of the year’s thirteen moons. Even in summer and fall, the lack of amenities kept all but the most serious hunters away, which was just how the King-Emperors liked it. No fancy drives or big hunting parties could be held at Burnt Mountain because of the distances and terrain. Add in the threat of earthquake and rock falls, and many nobles politely declined Imperial invitations to come visit. They preferred Singing Pines, which had enough amenities to be no worse than rustic.

  The servants prostrated themselves, and Reh-dakh knelt as King-Emperor Di-dosk and Prince Shy-kii entered the main eating room. The two Imperials surveyed the offered first course and took their places, then gestured to Rada. “Come, join Us,” Di-dosk ordered, and she took her seat across from the two Azdhagi. She tapped her claws on the table and the servants rose, easing their way out of the room to begin serving the second course as soon as his Imperial Majesty was ready.

  Rada served her overlords and waited until they began before helping herself to the less choice bits. Not that she minded, really. They ate better than she ever did on her own! First came hot soup with fresh grain balls, followed by delicately spiced cheezali sausages. Rada let the fatty-fruity and altogether wonderful savory melt on her tongue, understanding why Zabet had inquired about the birds. Servants brought in a vegetable-stuffed talkak, artfully dressed so the slices of meat remained in an animal shape until Di-dosk removed a tuber “tusk” and the beast’s “head” slid neatly onto his platter. The Azdhagi drank the local version of beer, while Reh-dakh contented herself with a very dark tea.

  Conversation centered on the day’s hunt and on prospects for the morrow. Di-dosk pointed with his talon at the remains of the cheezali sausage. “Where did you find these, Reh-dakh?”

  “There was a good-sized flock at the pool downstream from the waterfall, Imperial Majesty. Manager Srii trimmed back the berry bushes last spring, before the new growth began, and you had a bumper crop of fruit.” She explained. “I took these two from the very edge of the flock and didn’t see
m to disturb them, according to the game scouts. The cheezali were still feeding there late this afternoon, Majesty.”

  The brown reptile nodded. “Then that is where We shall go tomorrow,” he announced.

  Shy-kii looked a bit disappointed but didn’t say anything. His eyes wandered around the skins decorating the room, then stopped on the subtly dappled hide of a shardi. “Honored Sire, didn’t the huntmaster say that shardi had been seen on the mountain?”

  Both Rada and Di-dosk were a little taken aback at the prince’s observation. Di-dosk skewered a choice bit of talkak on his talon, chewing it carefully and swallowing before replying, “Yes, he did. You want to try your talons against the Mountain King?”

  “Yes, Honored Sire, I do,” Shy-kii said, determination clear. Rada summoned up memories of the last time she had seen one of the predators. They were not large, but massive, fast, and very intelligent. The shardi had been eating a freshly killed roklat boar and Rada had contented herself with watching through her monocular from a distance.

  The King-Emperor studied the hide on the wall and his Lord Defender. “Rada, are you capable of going on an upcountry hunt tomorrow?” It was not an idle question, given her difficulties getting around when she was carrying heavy loads.

  Rada closed her eye and ran an internal inventory, then made a lifting motion with her strong-side hand in affirmation. “Yes, Imperial Majesty, I am, provided that I may be excused the next two days.”

  “Go with him then,” Di-dosk said, then turned to his heir. “We do not doubt your prowess, but Reh-dakh is a Healer of considerable skill.” The brown reptile left it at that and Shy-kii bowed his acquiescence, then glared at the mammal. The two Azdhagi ate most of the rest of the talkak and discussed tactics for their two hunts as the Wanderer listened avidly. Her opportunities for hunting on Earth bordered on non-existent, so she made the most of her chances to do so here on Drakon IV.

  After the fruit and sweets had been served, the King-Emperor turned to his vassal. “Reh-dakh, were you injured here?”

  Rada’s stomach clenched, threatening to undo the evening’s fine dining. She really, really didn’t want to answer the question just now and scrambled to find a good reply.

  “No, Imperial Majesty. I was elsewhere. Someone was foolish and I was overconfident.” She shrugged at her own stupidity.

  Di-dosk seemed unconvinced, but fortunately for Rada a servant carrying a message diverted the King-Emperor’s attention. His read the note and smiled broadly, then stood and disappeared from the room without waiting for either his son or Reh-dakh to bow. Rada caught a hint of spicy perfume on the paper and worked hard to keep from smiling. Physical activity and risk tended to stimulate Azdhagi male desire much as it did some other species, and Rada ignored what was going on as she bowed to the Prince Imperial, who also decided that the meal was over and there were important matters to attend to.

  The Wanderer lingered and thanked the servants for their hard work and the cook for his magnificent creations, then snagged a last slice of talkak to nibble as she returned to her own room. Boys are boys the universe over, she thought with a snicker.

  Once she was certain she wouldn’t be disturbed, Rada pulled up a seat close to the ceramic wood stove in her quarters and added more logs, leaving the door open for a bit of light. Then she opened her harp case and settled the instrument onto her lap. This would be the first time she’d tried to play since the episode back in Earth’s September. She extended her claws and ran them over the instrument’s strings, then tuned it carefully. She started with basic chords and scales, warming up her hands. Then she closed her eye and began the slow strains of “Buchail an Eire,” plucking the wires lightly so as to keep the small instrument quiet. Zabet watched her from a pile of cushions beside the stove, muzzle on her forefeet, whiskers limp.

  Encouraged by the lack of pain, Rada moved into more difficult tunes, including “Brian Boru’s March,” and “Planxty Drew.” With “Sheebeg Sheemore,” Zabet got up from her seat and began slowly swaying, then twined into a complicated dance step. Rada followed that with “Chasing Leaves” and “Stardancer’s Pavane,” watching her friend’s graceful movements as her hands wove the tunes. After perhaps half an hour the woman stopped, setting the harp on the floor as she flexed her fingers and rolled her shoulders. Zabet returned to her ‘nest’ beside the stove.

  «Do you feel like singing something?» the silver dancer asked gently.

  Reh-dakh picked the harp back up and adjusted some of the sharping levers, then closed her eye. “From sweet Londonderry to the fair London town / There’s no other like Sarah Catherine anywhere to be found . . .” The plaintive, minor song of lost love curled around the listeners, sad-but-not somehow. From that, she slid into O’Carolan’s “Farewell to Music,” but cold talons touched her outside hand, stopping the song.

  Bright blue eyes stared into silver grey. «Not that one, Pet. You’ve been too close to that edge too recently» Zabet ordered. Rada nodded and set the harp aside.

  “Too close to what edge, Lady Zabet?” a male voice wanted to know, startling the pair. Di-dosk shouldered his way through the half-shut door as the two foreigners knelt. The King-Emperor rearranged Zabet’s nest and settled down, then gestured the others to find seats. “We were returning to Our sleeping chamber and heard unfamiliar music. You play well, Reh-dakh,” and the woman bowed from her place. “But what edge, Zabet?”

  Zabet hesitated as Rada bit her lip, then nodded her permission. «Reh-dakh tried to commit suicide, both because of pain and out of guilt at the losses that human soldiers—my lord’s battle comrades—suffered rescuing my lord after Reh-dakh was betrayed into the hands of tarqi da Kavalle. Da Kavalle attempted to torture my lord to death and would have succeeded if not for the humans’ bravery.» Zabet watched her friend closely but the Wanderer could have been carved of stone for all the reaction she showed to this highly abbreviated version of the tale. The True-dragon added, «The bastards also caught me, here on Drakon IV, and planned to use me as bait if an idiotic, arrogant—» She broke off as Rada shook her head.

  “Leave Jones out of it, Zabet,” the Wanderer whispered.

  Both looked up at the sound of fabric tearing. The King-Emperor ripped one of the thick cushions in two, scattering filling as he threw the pieces into the stove’s open door. His neck spines stood out straight and Di-dosk’s light-amber eyes almost glowed in his fury. “They dared attack you here, on Our throne world?” he demanded of the True-dragon.

  «Yes, Imperial Majesty. I had delivered a weaving to one of the lords on the southern continent and agents from tarqi da Kavalle ambushed my ship. I couldn’t outfly them» Zabet admitted, chagrined as well as angry.

  “How did they get here, Lord Defender?” The King-Emperor looked as if he wanted to kill something, and Rada cowered.

  “They had valid permits and had Traded at the spring fair, Imperial Majesty. It was no secret that Zabet and I were here. I am sorry,” she began. “I should have been more discreet.”

  Di-dosk snarled, his tail thwapping the wooden floor. “No. It is no one’s business but Ours who Our ancestors or We invite to Drakon IV, nor is it a secret unless We make it so. However, We will not tolerate any violations of Our territorial sovereignty!” He started to destroy another cushion, then subsided with a growl. “Reh-dakh, show Us your injuries.” It was a direct order and she rose to her knees, removing her vest and shirt so he could see the white scars on her torso and arms. His eyes narrowed as he studied them, then widened again as he recognized the pattern.

  “And your ears and tail as well,” he stated, remembering her earlier comment. She nodded. Zabet had curled her tail around the woman and Di-dosk leaned forward, watching them closely. “What else, Reh-dakh?”

  She looked down as Zabet laid a comforting forefoot on her arm. “Most of the other scars are internal, Imperial Majesty. Your pardon, but I prefer not to speak of them.”

  He sat back and considered the tale. “Very well. You m
ay re-robe,” and she did so. “Lord Reh-dakh, did my honored ancestor know of the enmity between you and da Kavalle?”

  The woman nodded. “His Imperial Majesty the great Shi-dan knew before I took my vows and said that so long as I did not involve the Azdhag Empire, it was immaterial.”

  Di-Dosk thought hard. His anger burned both at what had been done to his Lord Defender and at the Traders’ violation of Azdhag territorial rights. He got to his feet and approached the pair. Zabet lowered her head and neck in submission and Reh-dakh knelt, head bowed to her knee. The King-Emperor sat and rose onto his haunches, resting gloved forefeet on their shoulders. “Commander Rada Lord of House Ni Drako, Zabet of House Nagali, We extend Our protection over both of you for as long as Lord Reh-dakh remains Lord-Defender. And after, should Our descendants so choose. Continue as you have for so long, Reh-dakh, but know that should da Kavalle or another tarqi threaten you, We shall consider it an affront to Our sovereignty and shall respond accordingly.” He looked down at the two and briefly tightened his grip, then released them. “Our ancestors should have seen to this centuries ago, Reh-dakh, but We will do it now. Our proclamation will be entered and issued before We sleep tonight, Lord Defender.”

  She swallowed hard against tears of relief and joy. “Thank you, Imperial Majesty. Neither of us dared imagine such generosity.”

  He returned to his feet and turned to go. “Perhaps not, Reh-dakh, but We will not allow Our territories or dependents to be violated in such a way ever again.” And with that he strode out the door. Rada closed it quietly behind him and then looked at her partner.

  Zabet sat up, whiskers out straight, ears turning back and forth, eyes shining. «You know what this means, don’t you? We can go to all the Meets and Marts to do business and all the Traders can do is steam!»

  Rada sat back down and stared into the room’s shadows. “Trust you to think of the financial aspects first,” she mock-scolded. “But no. Think about it, silver dancer. Do you really want to provoke a war between the Azdhag Empire and the Traders and their allies and debtors?”