A Cat at Bay

by Alma Boykin

  She counted the seconds until he replied. It took five. «If you were in Vienna, did you know my ancestor, Prince Nikolas Eszterházy?» Her appreciation of Helmut’s coolness rose a notch.

  «No, I didn’t. I never tried to claim much in the way of rank in that court. They were far too careful about status and protocol, so although I wasn’t quite below the salt I was very close to it, and never attempted to approach any of the great lords and ladies.» She could sense his mild disappointment.

  The evening drew to a close just after two A.M. Rachel thanked Helmut, her host and hostess, and made her farewells, then retreated happily to her room. As much as she wanted to just remove her slippers and collapse onto the bed, she took the time to hang up her clothes and remove all the makeup before going to sleep. She also extended her senses toward the Dark Hart. She couldn’t make contact and her heart started racing. Right, don’t panic, you are how far apart? Two kilometers at least, in a foreign Power’s territory? If something terrible had happened, you’d know by now, because you’d be dead from backlash. Calm down and go to sleep, she ordered herself. She closed her eye for a moment and woke to twilight and sleepy birdsong.

  Joschka and Adele had neglected to tell her the plans for the day so Rachel decided to stay out of the way until one or the other tracked her down. I suspect Joschka’s going to be busy today, or exhausted, or yes. He’s not a nice HalfDragon in that condition. And I am on vacation, House ceremony or no. After eating breakfast she dressed in the borrowed riding clothes and went down to the stables. She spent a happy hour or so in the ring under Meister Lukas’s keen eye and iron discipline.

  Between coffee hour and supper Rachel drifted to the castle’s chapel. As she remembered, St. Leopold of Austria stood over the altar in his armor, eyes raised to the heavens, worshipping the small figure of the infant Christ hovering above pastel and grey clouds. Side altars allowed devotions to St. Michael Archangel and Our Lady of Sorrows. Rachel made her obeisance just inside the doorway, then walked quietly over to the defender of Heaven. She lit a small taper, set it in the holder, and knelt. The faint hints of incense and beeswax comforted her.

  She prayed, then found a seat at the rear of the chapel where she meditated. Tomorrow night she, Joschka, and Col. Eszterházy would go to meet with the rest of House Drachenburg, and despite Joschka’s assurances, she felt worried. The situation would not be a comfortable one. The last time she’d faced a full House council had been on a different world in less auspicious circumstances. Yeah, I expected to be executed for negligence. And I should have been.

  The chapel had not changed for several hundred years and a deep sense of peace and refuge emanated from the cool stones and blue, green, and white glass. Heraldic designs in bright colors and gilt marked the ceiling bosses, and the scenes carved onto the column bases and crowns also bore paint. A healthy number of Green Men and dragons looked out from behind stones and foliage, peering out from the ends of the pews, and she wondered again how the Grafs of Hohen-Drachenburg had managed to find a bishop who would consent to consecrate the place. Then she turned her thoughts back to more appropriate topics and resumed her earlier meditations on redemption, salvation, and the state of her soul.

  Joschka found her, still wrapped in thought, an hour later. He genuflected in the doorway, then shut the door and lit a second candle before the Archangel, finishing his own devotions as Rachel emerged from her near-trance. He caught her eye and gestured for her to come join him at the metal gate and rail that separated the high altar from the nave. They studied the images in silence, then he turned to her. “Do you know music from any masses?”

  “Several, my lord. What would you like me to offer?”

  He stroked his beard, then decided “A Pie Jesu, Sanctus, and something else, please.”

  Rachel shut her eye and took a deep breath before starting the Pie Jesu from Mozart’s “Requiem Mass,” followed by the Sanctus by Fauré. After a pause to let the sound die, she sang Lauridsen’s “O Nata Lux.” Lost in her own music, she also offered up “Wondrous Love.” When she opened her eyes she saw Joschka kneeling before the Archangel’s altar, deep in prayer. She crept down the nave, genuflected, and slipped out the door without disturbing him.

  Supper featured a lovely meat pie, several salads, and trifle. As she had suspected, some of the ingredients were making their second appearance, and Rachel admired the clever cook who disguised orts so well. After eating, Helmut excused himself to look after a paperwork problem that had developed and that should have been dealt with farther down the chain-of-command. He would be back the next afternoon, possibly with someone’s head on a pike. Rachel and Joschka exchanged wry looks when Adele turned her back: some aspects of military life were pan-galactic, if not universal.

  The lord and lady of Hohen-Drachenburg and their guest spent a lively hour or so chatting in the library. Around nine Adele retired for the evening, smothering a yawn. “If I didn’t know how you two manage to have so much energy, I’d suspect magic!”

  Joschka kissed his wife fondly as Rachel pretended to be upset. “Oh bother! You’ve guessed my secret, my lady. You and Shakespeare both. I knew I should have looked behind that hedge for witnesses before I added the eye of newt.” Adele and Joschka both chuckled as the countess left the library.

  “Actually, she’s closer to the truth than she thinks,” Joschka added, once he’d shut the door. A gently breeze blew through the open windows, stirring the light summer curtains and ruffling some of the papers on his desk.

  “Hmmm,” Rachel said. “If so, then perhaps you could let me in on the trick.” Because you are far too old to be this active, even for a HalfDragon.

  “The House keeps me young. Literally.”

  I’ve—That’s—I don’t even want to think about that. And what I don’t hear I don’t have to tell Himself and won’t accidentally say anywhere else. She gulped, recovered her wits, and sighed. “Alas, my House is not so generous.”

  As she’d hoped, Joschka smiled. He poured himself a drink and settled into his chair, idly caressing the carved talons at the ends of the chair arm. “So I recall you mentioning. And by now I’d think that you have had your fill of capricious Powers.”

  “Not ‘capricious,’ rather ‘amoral.’ Logres has its reasons and patterns, even if I heartily disagree with them on occasion and barely understand them most of the time.”

  He considered her words, but didn’t reply.

  After a while he stirred. “Ah, fair warning. Schloss Hohen-Drachenburg will be invaded tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. Leopold and Elizabet’s brood will be coming to stay here for a few weeks. Lise is bringing Hannes, Magda, and Willi, arriving after 1500.”

  “Joschka, just how many descendants do you and Adele have, all combined?”

  He gave her a mischievous grin. “Guess.”

  After running through the names she could recall, she ventured, “Fifteen?”

  “Twenty-one and a third.”

  Rachel sat back with a thump, eyebrows raised. “Good heavens! No wonder Adele married you. She probably assumed that you’d never notice another four or five. Nikolaustag must have been utterly wild.”

  “Not as much as you’d think, because school was still in session. Epiphany was happily chaotic, I grant you. You are still single,” he gestured with his glass toward her empty right hand.

  “‘Was, am, and ever shall be, world without end,’ to misquote the Book of Prayer. I’m not as brave as you are.”

  “Brave how so, Rachel? For choosing to stay in one place and raise a family?”

  “For being willing to risk loving and losing. I’m not that strong of a spirit. One spectacular failure taught me that,” she pointed at her ruined eye. “But you! You found a place to call home, loved and still love, raised a family and a half at least . . .”

  Joschka levered himself out of his chair and began walking back and forth between the open window and the fireplace, hands clasped b
ehind his back. He shifted to Trader. “Truth, Rada. I am not brave. I was lonely and Magda knew it. She was willing to take me on and we grew to love eachother deeply.” He paused, and she sensed the sorrow that never quite left him. “When she died, if I hadn’t had the House and GDF both to look after, I don’t know what I would have done. And then Adele came to me, after Pavel’s death. But Rada, don’t you trust in the future? That’s what children are, after all.”

  You never could ask the easy ones, could you? “Truth, Joschka. The Lord did not grant for me to have children of my own, ever. And after what happened to Anna, well, I realized that the risk to others was too great to even consider adopting again. Besides, I’m too selfish to be a good wife or mother.”

  “This from the woman who almost died protecting some GDF soldiers’ children?” He wagged a finger at her. “And before you say anything, I read between the lines in the report and then browbeat Whitehead into giving me more of the story, ‘for safety’s sake,’ I think was how I phrased it. But as you will. I agree, not every one is meant to raise a small tribe.”

  “While I have you cornered, my lord.” He crossed his arms, waiting. “And we are discussing paternity—how ‘Wanderer’ versus ‘Azdhag’ do you want me to be tomorrow?”

  Joschka closed his eyes and Rachel sensed him ‘talking’ to someone. She took the opportunity to liberate a ginger beer from his liquor cabinet, prizing it open with two claws. When his eyes opened, they revealed the faint golden color and slitted pupils that marked him as a HalfDragon. “Be yourself, Commander Ni Drako: healer and warrior, Wanderer and Ka’atian, Azdhag and mammal. That should confuse everyone.”

  “Including me.”

  He closed his eyes again and they returned to their everyday color. “And on that profound note, I’m going to try and get some sleep before Mass tomorrow.”

  She finished her purloined bottle and sighed. “Then I will see you and the Gräfin at dinner.”

  “Why don’t you just convert, since the Anglicans are so close to us?” Joschka opened the door and gestured for her to go first.

  She shook her head, “Sola scriptura, my lord. And later services.”

  He tsked. “You Protestants are just too lazy to attend Matins.”

  “The Orthodox shake a finger at both of us as heretics, my lord. Pax vobiscum.”

  “Et Dominus tecum,” he replied automatically, caught himself, and glared at the hastily retreating figure as her laughter trailed down the corridor.

  Rachel found ways to keep out of mischief the next day, then slipped up to her room and watched as part of the Drachenburg horde arrived. Two children spilled out of the car, followed by their mother, who carried a baby car seat. “Opapa, Oma Adele!” someone squealed, and a ginger-blond little boy threw himself at Joschka, who caught the flying child and tossed him up into the air, then caught him again as the ladies shook their heads.

  “Grandfather, if he loses his dinner it is your fault,” Elizabet warned.

  Rachel smiled, then shut the window and read for the rest of the afternoon. She took extra care applying her cosmetics, but opted not to wear her contact lenses. As she’d feared, a bone sliver had worked out of her bad eye, leaving it more irritated than usual. Blessed Lord, how long will this keep up? she half prayed. By now she really thought every chip and shard had migrated out of the eyeball.

  As she’d hoped, the children and their mother gave her curious looks but seemed satisfied by her explanation of a “lab accident.” Rachel concentrated on acting harmless, at least until that evening. She did not approve of how Joschka persuaded Lise to allow him to take Hannes out stargazing, but it was not her place to fuss, she reminded herself as she laced her boots for the walk up to the Drachenburg. Joschka had said no weapons, but Rachel grabbed her belt and utility pouches out of her work kit. If I have it, I won’t need it.

  Hannes, all of six years old and invincible, insisted on leading the way, at least until the wind started blowing through the trees and making strange noises. Rachel trailed behind as the rear guard. The quartet made good speed, and Rachel felt some relief when they reached the caverns and slowed down. Her bad knee did not appreciate the previous days’ exercise and was letting her know.

  She glanced around the passageway. Originally a mine tunnel, after a few hundred meters the cavern became a natural passage. The fur on her neck stood up as the sense of Power grew stronger, and Rachel eased closer to Helmut. He seemed not to notice either her proximity or the gathering energies, too intent on not tripping in the very dim light from Joschka’s torch.

  All at once they rounded a curve and entered a good-sized chamber. Someone had set up lights and candles around a natural stone altar. Flowstone dripped over the walls in creamy pinks and tans. Rachel heard movement and turned, watching several humans and a True-dragon coming in behind the four newcomers. Joschka caught her eye and pointed to a place near the altar, facing Helmut. Hannes stuck to Joschka’s side, curious about the goings on but calm. Rachel wondered if he had seen True-dragons before or if he were just too young to be scared of large, scaly beasts with sharp teeth and claws.

  Rachel tried not to be bored. Most of the discussion sailed past her: the House conducted business in a variant of Old Drakonic, as best she could tell, with archaic Tyrolean German and Latin just to keep her guessing. The ceremony consisted of questions and challenges, as Joschka explained why Leopold and Hannes should be his successors, and an old woman representing the larger House argued against him. Helmut added supporting material when asked and held Hannes in his lap once the boy grew too tired to stand. Finally, after what felt like hours, the House and Power expressed their satisfaction with the candidates. The woman presented Joschka with a stone-hilted knife, and Joschka nicked his great-grandson’s finger, just enough to get a drop of blood on the metal. Rachel sensed a flare of energy. Ah, so this is what I was supposed to witness, she realized. The gathered House members signaled their approval with applause and cheers, then dispersed. Joschka picked up a very sleepy Hannes and led Rachel and Helmut out of the caverns.

  A hundred meters or so from the entrance Rachel heard a creaking, groaning sort of moan that emanated from the ceiling of the passageway. Helmut paused mid-step. The moan grew into a crack as bits of rock and wood showered down from overhead and Joschka, just a bit farther along the passage, yelled “Shoreing’s breaking!”

  Helmut grabbed Rachel’s hand and jerked her back, “No, we’re too close to the fall!” Or that’s what she thought he would have said, as a rumbling crash knocked them both off their feet in a tangle of wood, rock, and dust. Cold, smothering darkness engulfed her and she jammed her arm over her mouth and nose, trying to breathe through the cloth and shield her face. The stones of the Drachenburg were trying to blind and deafen her, and she fought her way backwards, scrambling as best she could away from the fall.

  Thirty seconds or less after the first pebbles dropped, the rock stopped moving. Rachel lay still, concentrating on breathing and rejoicing in the bare fact of survival. Right. No spinal damage, no concussion, everything’s still attached, and nothing hurts enough to be broken, for once, although I’ll have some spectacular bruises. As the dust and rocks settled, Rachel felt around her waist for her belt-bag. Even her eyes were no help in total darkness, and she had a couple of options in her pouch. Her fingers closed on a light-stick, and she cracked and shook it. Might as well save the batteries on the pocket torch, she thought, and began surveying her surroundings. The good news was that the dust seemed to be flowing away, down the passageway and farther into the mountain, so some fresh air was getting through the collapse.

  The bad news sprawled at the edge of the pile. “Oh chit. Please God, not as bad as it looks.” She scrambled over to the prostrate form. She could feel a pulse, Helmut was breathing regularly, and no blood gushed from what she could see, but that might not mean anything. More ominously, he didn’t respond to either her voice or her mental probe. Try to move him, or no? He doesn’t seem to be p
inned, and I don’t want to be under another fall, but spinal trauma or internal hemorrhage? What’s that? Something creaked overhead. She held the end of the light stick in her teeth as she cleared the rocks away from his legs. Reaching out with her Gift, she stabilized Helmut’s spine as she dragged him farther into the mountain, away from the fall. She spat out the stick, then knelt beside Helmut and ran her hands over his back, feeling for any damage. No spinal problems, no hemorrhaging in his torso, so that left his head. She jerked back as a scream pierced her skull, clenching her fists over her ears and slamming her shields up full.

  Dimmit, I can’t monitor a patient, block out the scream, or contact Joschka with my shields up! Gritting her teeth, she lowered them as much as she dared and reached for Joschka’s familiar presence. «Joschka! Are you all right?»

  An incredibly reassuring baritone voice rolled into her mind, and she sagged a bit in relief. «Yes! I’m outside the entrance, with Hannes. You?»

  «Undamaged, but Helmut’s unconscious. We’re behind the fall. What’s screaming in my head?»

  Rachel winced when he replied, «Hannes and the mountain. He’s too hysterical for me to get through to him. Can you?»

  Lord have mercy, she thought and reached towards the youngest mind she could sense, slowly and carefully trying to slip a barrier between the child and his terror, even as his great-grandfather talked and soothed the boy. Between the two of them, they got him calmed a little, and she imposed a shield on the child to make things easier for everyone.

  «Rada, can you hold the shield on him?»

  She grimaced and checked her energy levels. «I assume trying to tap the House is not an option?»

  «No,» he snapped, with an undertone of power trying to redirect itself to stop another cave in.

  “Bloody farking way beyond Gahanna Hell!” «Yes. I can also take care of Helmut. But that’s all. I can’t dig us out, or call for help, or talk to you.»