A Cat at Bay

by Alma Boykin

  The next day, as she triple-checked her weapons and adjusted her headpiece once more, a susurration of sound caught Rada’s ear. She turned and bowed as the vizier walked up to where she waited in the annex to the great throne room. He glared up at her. “There’s been a change,” he stated, tail-tip patting the floor with irritation.

  “My lord?”

  His tan eyes narrowed. “Because the Sapient Republic’s delegation is so small, it has been decided that the nobles of court, and you, will be announced individually after the humans enter the throne room. His imperial highness thinks it will be easier for the humans to observe and recognize us, and vice versa, since you mammals all look alike.” He sniffed, giving Reh-dakh an unhappy sideways look.

  “Very well, my lord.”

  “Stay here until you are called.” Vizier Shu stomped off.

  He still hates it that I’m taller than he is. But then I’m taller than everyone. Ah well. Rada shrugged her tail and turned a little, watching a small screen built into the wall. It let her see the hall from the rear, in case trouble started and she needed to intervene. At the moment, all looked well. The familiar dark, heavy beams over light-colored stone walls formed the background of the Great Throne Room. Four enormous tapestries hung on each wall, illustrating episodes from Azdhagi history or life. At the far end of the Hall four low, wide steps led to the Imperial dais, topped by an ornate throne that blended opulence and the latest in modern communications technology. As a sign of the peaceful intent of the meeting, only two guards stood watch from among the gathered Azdhag nobles and notables.

  The speaker announced the Court nobles, except for the Lord-Defender, in reverse order of rank beginning with the palace seneschal and concluding with the King-Emperor. Rada nodded as he announced Lord Peitak, the Minister of Imperial Defense and Foreign Minister Li-Kss together, as they shared equal rank both by lineage and by position. Rada could see the Sapient Republic’s delegation members also nodding, probably taking mental notes of markings and House colors. Vizier Shu they had already met, and his cobalt blue robes gave him away, as did the lack of embroidery on the cuffs of the sleeves. Peitak was not the largest of the Azdhag present but had a deeper chest than most, and wore dark brown robes belted in leather and stitched with stylized pine trees and clouds, along with leather and metal foreleg protectors. Rada frowned. He’s unarmed, that’s odd. He and Li-kss and Shu all have bahn’leh but no attack blades. What’s his majesty trying to signal, I wonder? Rada settled her weapons belt once more and rested her hand on the door, ready to move.

  “Commander Reh-dakh Lord Ni Drako, Lord-Defender of Drakon IV,” the herald announced, and Rada stepped into view, taking a position to the left of the throne at the same level as Vizier Shu. The youngest-looking human gaped at her and the rest of the party appeared equally dumbfounded. Rada risked dropping her shields to get a sense of the humans’ thoughts, in case one of them did something stupid.

  The youngest, Juan Ch’ien, projected so hard she had to shield again. Even then he broadcast better than most communication satellites. She could actually see herself through his eyes. Her plaited, dark brown hair and the cut of her dress made it obvious that Lord Iron-Fan was most definitely a human female, albeit one carrying both a sword and a blast pistol. A bahn’leh hung from her belt, above the larger blade. “Lord” Reh-dakh’s dark grey dress split just below the hip to reveal breeches tucked into knee-high boots, all trimmed in dark blue-green embroidery along the hems and high collar. What looked like an elaborate silver comb rose from the back of her hair, highlighting the silver-edged patch over her right eye.

  Rada barely had time to finish reading the assistant ambassador when the door to the Imperial wing swung open. “His Imperial Majesty Huan-di, Emperor of Azdhagia, protector of DeShan’s System, King of Drakon IV,” the herald called. Rada half-knelt, her forehead to her knee, as the others prostrated themselves and the humans dropped to their knees but didn’t bow. Green and grey stripes swept from the Emperor’s nostrils back over his head. His heavily embroidered jewel-tone red and green robes winked with metallic threads, and gems flashed on his red gloves. He wore a yellow sash and carried a bahn’leh. After taking his place on the throne, the Emperor waved a gloved talon. “You may rise.”

  Rada stepped closer to the throne, hands clasped behind her back and feet shoulder-width apart, expression neutral. “Parade rest,” she heard Admiral Kundera whisper and he nodded slightly. The official interpreter, Adan Dan, took a deep breath and introduced the delegation from the Sapient Republic. Rada repeated his words in Azdhagi, loud enough for all in the room to hear. The Great Hall’s acoustics made the two interpreters’ jobs easier by keeping the sound clear despite the size of the room. “Ambassador Plenipotentiary Charles Bolton, spokesman for the Sapient Republic to the Imperial Court.” After he was announced, Bolton presented the envelope bearing his credentials to a waiting Azdhag, who bowed, accepted the envelope, and handed it to the Foreign Minister.

  Rada worked hard to stay as still as an Azdhag would, hiding any sign of private emotion. She did allow herself to acknowledge Admiral Kundera, because the Minister of War did it first. Lord Reh-dakh would not do anything outside Azdhagi custom, after all.

  The rest of the ceremony followed the original script. Papers were exchanged, Huang-di inquired as to the level of hospitality the delegation had received and whether their quarters were suitable, and both sides expressed their hopes that this would be the beginning of peaceful and prosperous relations between their two governments. Rada felt a little odd to be part of the ceremony rather than guarding it, but as Himself had often reminded her, rank brought changes and duties. Which often outweigh any perks, she grumbled. No real work would be done, either here or at the formal banquet that night, but both sides used the opportunity to measure each other.

  At last, the King-Emperor suggested that there might be general questions for his councilors. After a few from Kundera and Garcia, the trade representative, directed towards Lords Shu and Li-kss, Assistant Ambassador Ch’ien cleared his throat. “If I may, Lord Reh-dakh. I’d like to express my surprise at seeing a fellow human in the Imperial Court.”

  Not too observant, are we? Rada translated his careful non-question before glancing to the King-Emperor. He gestured his permission to answer. “I am not human, Assistant Ambassador, although I may appear so. My dam was Ka’atian,” she explained first in Azdhagi, then in Standard. Her cool tone suggested that that should be the end of the matter.

  Bolton nodded. “Thank you, Lord Reh-dakh. I believe that we have no further questions at this time.”

  “Neither have We. Until this evening,” the King Emperor announced, starting to rise. As he did, the Azdhagi again touched their heads to the floor and the Lord-Defender sank to one knee as the humans knelt on two. Once his Imperial Majesty had departed, the nobles rose and followed suit, aside from a small group who would serve as guides and interpreters, and Lord Reh-dakh.

  Rada came down the steps, stopped in front of the ambassador, and bowed. “Your Excellency, part of my duties includes palace security. The Azdhag are a warrior people and I do not want any concerns on your part that someone’s behavior might be threatening or hostile. If you think there might be a problem developing, please tell one of your guards, and I will see to the matter immediately.”

  Bolton nodded his agreement. “Thank you, Lord Iron Fan. We will be sure to do so, in the unlikely event that it is needed.” Rada bowed again, then turned and left.

  Later that afternoon, Rada returned to her chambers with a few hours to spare before the start of the evening’s banquet and held cold hands over the top of the ancient combustion stove, letting them thaw. She’d gone from the audience to her office near the Palace Guards’ barracks, and done paperwork and signed the quarter’s requisition budget. Then she’d observed sparring practice and spent time at the target range, despite the blowing snow. As she pointed out to a reluctant NCO, “There is no longer any such thing as invasi
on season.” By the time she finished work and got back indoors she was wet and cold despite heavy silk robes and her own pelt. Bah, I’m getting out of condition she grumbled to herself. Too much good food and central heating.

  Rada changed into dry breeches, shirt, and vest, and made the most of a pot of very hot tea that had appeared on the table beside her desk. Zabet returned in time to start the second pot of tea.

  «Well, no one’s been skewered yet. That’s a positive sign,» the silvery-blue True-dragon observed, her whiskers floating up and down.

  Rada snorted, “And it had better stay that way! Unless the humans start it. Then they can finish it.”

  «I thought you liked humans?»

  The mammal looked over her teacup. “I’m recovering from a mammal overload, Boss. Let’s leave it there.”

  Rada settled onto the padded window seat in the public portion of her quarters and started brushing out her long hair. Zabet sauntered over and joined her, looping her long tail around them both. It played into their official roles of noble and concubine. After she got the last tangle out, Rada lifted Zabet’s muscular tail and stood up.

  “I’m going to have a bit of a kip before tonight’s banquet. Some of us have to work, you know,” she teased. “Treats and meals don’t fall from the clouds, as you well know, Boss.”

  Zabet draped herself in an especially fetching tooroi fleece shawl and took possession of the window seat, helping herself to the rest of the tea as she watched snow fall.

  Two hours later, the Lord-Defender’s orderly frowned over a bit of paper work. “Lord-Mammal, should we increase security around the humans’ quarters?”

  Rada turned around, making her body servants click their talons in frustration. As if I need help getting dressed, even in full Court formals! They finished adjusting the heavy skirt, then started preparing her headpiece. “Has someone called feud already, Lt. Ashdri?”

  “No, my lord. But Lord Den-ban made a rapid departure from Lady Kii’s chamber as her mate entered.”

  “And Lord Kii-blee won’t let a small thing like a diplomatic mission’s quarters come between him and redressing his honor when it happens a second time.” Rada thought aloud, then sighed. “No, don’t increase security. Send a note to the Crown Prince, with my deepest respects, suggesting that perhaps Lord Den-ban might be interested in meeting one of the new courtesans we’ve all been hearing rumors about.” If there’s any truth at all to the tales about those females, even Den-ban will be distracted for quite a while and stay away from that part of the Palace. She froze as one of the servants very carefully set the ornate silver hair band and pendants on her head, gently pressing it into her crown of braids.

  Lt. Ashdri saluted and took himself off, after getting her signature and seal on the note for the Imperial heir. The servants followed close behind him and Rada savored a few moments of quiet. Zabet, who had been watching the proceedings from the corner by the porcelain-tiled stove, chuckled. «You still don’t like being dressed, do you?»

  “No, I do not. Or any kind of fussing over, as you well know.” Which wasn’t quite true, but being fussed over by spa attendants was different.

  The silver-blue reptile shook the tip of her tail in amusement. «Is that a new dress?»

  Rada ran her hands over the blue-green material of the skirt and bodice, then adjusted the fit of the cuffs. “No, I just haven’t had an occasion to wear it for a century or so. On a different topic, have you looked at the bahn’leh?”

  «Yeeeesss. It’s not like others I’ve seen, not counting the size difference. And I’m not happy that you’re carrying one.»

  “Yes, well, there’s a reason I’ve never asked for one—it’s an invitation to another feud. However, this blade seems more discreet than most.” Reh-dakh picked up the knife and caressed the ornate carvings on the hilt, then slid it into the knife pocket in the top of all her knee-boots. “Are you coming with me?”

  Zabet rolled over, scratching her back on the side of the stove as her Pet winced. «No. Tonight is formal, so no females. Go make nice and watch out for the derrzhin.»

  Rada chuckled and she gave her business partner’s neck a quick scratch. “It’s the salad I need to look out for. Derrzhin I leave for the professionals! Have a nice evening,” and she picked up her sword and bowed slightly, then turned and walked out, the pendants on her coronet clicking quietly with her steps.

  Who was it that pointed out that an armed society is a polite society the mammal mused as people cleared out of her path in the corridors leading to the banqueting chamber. Even Lord Kii-blee limited himself to a sniff of disdain as she joined the group waiting for the doors to open. The “philosophical difference” between their Houses went back two centuries and by now had become more ritual than actual fight.

  Rada caught Lord Peitak’s eye and bowed slightly towards him. He acknowledged her, beckoning her over to where he stood. “All quiet?”

  “Thus far, my lord. And may it stay that way.”

  The Defense Minister snorted hard enough to flutter Rada’s heavy, embroidered skirts. “And if wishes were wings, I’d soar the stars. What do you think about Admiral Kundera?”

  Rada glanced around for the Sapient Republic’s party before answering. “He seems honest and honorable, my lord. One of the old-style officers is my guess, which explains why he’s not made full admiral despite his seniority. But that’s just supposition and I’ve been very wrong before.”

  “Well, that makes one we can work with, at least. Let the courtiers deal with the politicians is my motto,” he stated firmly, for public benefit.

  And only a fool thinks you don’t play court politics with the best of them Rada observed, bowing at the implied dismissal.

  Rada took her place with the mid-ranked courtiers, watching the humans without openly watching them. The meal started with a large salad of fresh greens that Assistant Ambassador Ch’ien devoured hungrily, as did everyone besides her. She limited herself to a very small bowl and tasted neither the wines nor the stronger spirits. From what she recalled about wine-food pairings, the fruity white complimented the sharp and sweet salad, while a mellow red accentuated the second course of dark fish in a tart sauce.

  The third course arrived and Rada let her gantak cool slightly before tasting it. It had only taken one bad burn to teach her that Azdhag could tolerate much hotter foods and beverages than she could. It had been a good year for gantak and this dish featured the game quadruped after it had been aged, then rubbed in dry spices and cold smoked until the meat was tender. One human, Juan Ch’ien, seemed to be eating no meat, and judging from the subtle comments among the Azdhag, he would be the butt of jokes for quite a while. Rada hid her smile, wondering yet again why some people suffered voluntary herbivory. We wouldn’t have meat if we weren’t supposed to eat it. After the fresh fruit course, a midwinter luxury even in the palace, one of the seneschal’s assistants handed Rada a small card. She read it, leaned forward enough to catch the Prince Imperial’s eye, and inclined farther forward in acknowledgment. The dark-brown prince nodded in return and he flashed four talons before returning to the conversation around him.

  After the dishes had been cleared away, his Imperial Majesty and the Crown Prince left their table and took seats on the left side of a broad platform. Musicians brought drums, stringed instruments, and some sort of woodwinds out and arranged themselves along the back of the dais, behind a thin fabric screen. One of the Azdhag interpreters smiled at the Assistant Ambassador. “You are very fortunate, Your Honor. It is a rare thing for his Imperial Majesty’s personal musicians to perform outside the Imperial chambers, and they are some of the best in the Empire.”

  Ch’ien smiled in return. “I have heard much about Azdhag music, and I am very grateful for such a privilege.”

  Something about Ch’ien’s reply bothered Rada and she lowered her shields. He was not pleased, and she caught flashes of unhappiness at the lack of females and the absence of commoners. Great, he’s one of tho
se: no culture is worth anything unless it’s identical to his own. Not my problem. She raised her shields again and turned her attention to the music.

  After three instrumental pieces, Rada got up from her place and walked to the front of the dais. She knelt, was permitted to rise, and stepped onto the platform. After a dramatic pause, she began singing “The Ballad of Dawson’s Christian.” It was a song a number of the Azdhagi knew well—as did Kundera, apparently—although the other humans and some of the nobles did not.

  Rada smiled to herself later that night as she slid along the back passages to her chambers. Some things about young human males never changed. She didn’t need her Gift to sense what the Assistant Ambassador had been thinking after her performance. Her dark blue-green dress had a very low neckline and a standing collar. Her ankle-length skirt and tight bodice were embroidered with dark blue and sliver dragons and stars. As before, she carried a blue-hilted sword on her right side and the iron war fan hung from her belt on the opposite side. Ch’ien and everyone else in the room would have gotten quite a look when she bowed to the audience. However, she’d have to be more careful in the future. Well, I’ll be out of sight for the next while unless a problem develops or I’m needed to interpret. And he’s probably one of those that doesn’t date outside his caste, let alone his species. The high ministers, Crown Prince, and others would take over interacting with the S.R. delegation, and she could go back to catching up the estate records and her military duties.

  One week later, Rada ran her sheathed claws over the side of her iron war fan as she stood in the DCC. Defender Kir made a weak-side gesture, inquiring, “You’re certain that it’s just a meteorite, Warder Pei’rra?” The Lord Defender stood back, watching her second in command as he talked to the officer in charge of the north polar sector.