Cat's Tale

by Bettie Sharpe

  My flattery soothed him, and he did not interrupt, allowing me to expound at great length upon his intelligence and consequence. These subjects most naturally led to a thorough extolling of his skills as a lover, to which he sneeringly replied, “But I thought that any man with a hard cock and decent understanding of the female anatomy could do the same.”

  “You didn’t take me seriously, did you? I was over-proud. You seemed so high and mighty, I sought to take you down a peg. It was, of course, a great mistake.”

  “Of course,” he drawled, flattered but unconvinced.

  “Tell me,” I said. “How did you discover that I had betrayed you to the princess?”

  He smiled a smile so sly it would not have looked out of place upon my feline face. “A little bird told me.”

  “You can speak to birds?”

  “After a fashion.”

  “Oh, please do tell me. I have been squeezing my brain wondering which of Etheldred’s ladies betrayed her.”

  “None of them,” said he. “I was present.”

  “But I didn’t see you. Not at all!”

  “I was a songbird,” said he, “in the tree above your head. I serenaded you with a lovely song, had you bothered to cease your traitorous chatter long enough to listen.”

  “You? A songbird? I don’t believe it.”

  “Whyever not?”

  “It’s just that you are so big and masculine and powerful. I could not imagine you would have the delicacy and control to turn yourself into something so small and fragile as a songbird.”

  He puffed up, offended by the slight aspersion I had, quite wittingly, cast upon his abilities. “I shall have you know, I am the consummate master of my skill. I can take the form of any man or beast alive or dead.”

  “But not anything so delicate and lovely as, say a songbird, or a butterfly. That I simply cannot believe.”

  “You must believe it,” he said. He disappeared in a puff of purple smoke, and in his place stood a small gray songbird identical to the one that had been in the tree above me the day I betrayed Galfridus to the princess.

  It was the moment I had waited for. I mustered all my feline skill and leapt. Only to fall like a rock as my body transformed from feline to human. My hands and feet slipped on the soft carpet. My naked skin prickled with the chill air.

  Another puff of purple smoke brought Galfridus back to his preferred shape. I wondered, again, how he had kept his clothes when I had not.

  “Very clever, my girl. I almost fell for your ruse. Fortunately, I retain my powers even in that small and seemingly helpless shape.” He scratched his chin contemplatively. “It was a bare thing though. I locked you into the feline form, yet you managed to save yourself from drowning, to walk and to talk. A few more days and you might have figured out how to return to your true shape all on your own.

  “How fortunate for me that you were born beautiful. If it weren’t for that pretty face of yours, those idiots who raised you might have noticed you had the makings of a wizard. They’d have trained you to use your power, and then where would I be?”

  He lunged for me. I leapt away. He caught me by my hair and pulled me to the ground. I scrabbled to get my feet under me again, but before I could, he started walking, dragging me through the sitting room door and onto the cold marble tile of the entry hall.

  “I did a poor job of drowning you the first time,” he said. “I’ll not make that mistake again.” When I made it to my feet, the ogre wrapped his hand around my throat and squeezed, all the while continuing his march toward the tall front doors of his keep. “This time, I shall hold your head underwater myself. I shall watch as your last breath leaves you, so that I may be perfectly certain you are dead.”

  I struck at him, twisting in his grip. I scratched and screamed, but my clumsy nails were useless to do real damage. His strong hand squeezed my voice into a strangled whisper. I wedged my feet against the cobbles but my flesh gave before the stone did. My bloody feet slid across the ground as he dragged me through the courtyard and out to the moat.

  “Stop!”

  Princess Etheldred’s entourage had drawn up outside the gates. Julian leapt out of her carriage, his bow and arrows at the ready. Galfridus’s hand loosened in surprise and I screamed, “Julian, run!”

  “Cat!” he shouted. He notched an arrow and aimed it at the wizard. “Let her go.”

  “Let her go? My good man, I mean to kill this vain, unmanageable hellcat. I mean to rid the world of her once and for all.”

  “Do it, and you’re dead,” Julian growled.

  “Take a step closer, and she’s dead.” Galfridus produced a knife from his sleeve and pressed it against my throat.

  Julian’s face went pale, fear writ clear upon it. “No!”

  “Throw down your bow.”

  Julian did as the wizard ordered.

  Galfridus gave my neck a painful squeeze. “I believe he is in love with you.”

  “Do you know who she is—what she is?” Galfridus asked. “She is the lying, conniving bitch who cuckolded our late king. She slept with every courtier who could mount her, and with every handsome guardsman. I hear she did not scruple at footmen or stable boys, if they were particularly pretty.”

  “Julian, don’t listen.”

  “Why shouldn’t he listen?” Galfridus sneered. “It’s all true. I cannot believe I ever thought you a virtuous wife. Little did I know you were just an excellent liar who had her ladies and accomplices so cowed they dared not betray your secrets. After I assured them you were gone, they sang a different tune.

  “They told me of your lovers and your extravagances.” He raised his face to Julian again. “Did you know she had three hundred pairs of shoes?”

  “Only two hundred!” I gasped. As though that made a difference. Tears came to my eyes as Galfridus stripped me naked before Julian. My body was already without clothes, but that day the wizard stripped my soul.

  He laid out every one of my vices, indulgences and shortcomings. He told such tales of my lovers as might bring a whore to blush. I had always thought I would not apologize for the life I had lived or the choices I had made, but as I watched the look of horror and disgust spill across my Julian’s face, I regretted all. I wished I had been better, kinder and more worthy of him. I wished I had been the woman he’d thought I was.

  When the wizard finished his tirade, Julian did not speak against him or defend my honor. He met my eyes and asked, “Is this true?”

  I always believed I would do anything to get my own way, and certainly anything to save my own life, but as I looked into Julian’s hurt brown eyes, I could not lie to him again.

  “Yes.”

  He shook his head. “You can have her.” He turned and began to walk back to the princess’s carriage.

  Galfridus laughed. “It appears I am not the only man who believes it is time for you to get what you deserve.”

  “No!” I shouted as I struggled against him, but his hands did not loosen on me. “Julian!” I cried, but my beloved did not heed me. Did not help me.

  “I love you!”

  He did not turn.

  I experienced a moment of utter desolation as Galfridus dragged me into the shallow moat. Remorse swamped me, flooding my eyes with tears, sinking my heart with sorrow. I had lost everything that mattered to me. If I gave up now, the end would not come painlessly, but it would come quick.

  No! I chased the thought from my head. I wanted to live. Not for Julian, but for myself. We have all read tales of love where each would die without the other, but my love was not some sorry, sniveling substitute for self-hatred. I would not wither for want of him. I would live and love him though he loved me not. I would live and love again, now that I knew how. I would fight.

  And fight I did. I fought the ogre’s every step, but my strength was not enough. Cold water soaked my body. Galfridus took the back of my head in his large palm, ready to force it under. I looked to the princess’s coach for assistance, but her
coachmen and councilors stood motionless, as though bespelled.

  “I can’t believe you thought I would fall for your petty tricks and lies,” Galfridus said. “I am a wizard. You cannot best me.”

  He shoved my head beneath the water. I held my breath as long as I could, but soon enough my burning lungs forced my mouth open. Water poured between my lips. Suddenly, the pressure of his hand on the back of my head fell away.

  I leapt up, gasping, wiping my eyes clear. Ready to fight. The water around me was red with blood. Not my blood, but the wizard’s. Galfridus lay beside me, an arrow sticking from his chest.

  Julian rushed into the moat, pressed his knee on the ogre’s chest and wrapped his hand on the ogre’s throat. “Did you truly believe I would abandon her?” he growled. “Did you truly believe anything you said could turn me against her?”

  Julian’s disgust and abandonment had been a ruse, his words a well-told lie. Now that my tears had ceased, I was so proud of him.

  Galfridus coughed blood. “You…” His hand rose from the water. The ring upon his index finger glowed purple, and smoke began to gather.

  “None of that.” In a blink, Julian pulled his razor from his pocket, flipped it open and slit the ogre’s throat.

  The hand fell. The smoke cleared. My Julian took me in his arms.

  “Ah, gods, Cat! You gave me such a scare.”

  “Julian.” I would have said more. I would have said that I loved him, and that I was sorry I had deceived him. I would have said everything that was in my heart, but he did not give me a chance. He took me in his arms and kissed me.

  Our kiss was a love song, a revelation. A meeting of lips and tongues, of souls and hearts. He was my Julian and I, his Cat, and never we two would part. We were, neither one of us, perfect, but we loved and for now that was more than enough.

  I lost myself in the feel of his arms around me, of his body beside me, of his lips sliding hot against mine. In those moments he was the universe to me, the moon and the sun and every god that looked down from the heavens above.

  Breaking our kiss was like descending from heaven. I did not want to do it, but Princess Etheldred’s insistent throat-clearing dragged me down like a rope about my ankle. Julian lifted his lips from mine, and I blinked into the light of a day that seemed suddenly new, unknown and wonderful.

  “Are you two quite finished?” Etheldred asked from the edge of the moat.

  “No,” I said, and Julian took my lips again.

  We were some moments more at our reunion. Some moments of lips and tongues, of wandering hands and passionate sighs before we were again interrupted.

  “A-hem.”

  We sprang apart. There may have been a blush upon my cheeks.

  Julian shrugged off his wet cloak and gave it to me so that I might cover myself. He stood first, and made a bow to the princess. I took my time, for something glimmering in the water caught my eye.

  Beside us was the body of the ogre Galfridus. It had given up all pretense to the human form when he had died, and he was, now, clearly an ogre. A naked ogre.

  Where had his clothes gone?

  The only thing he still wore was the ring with the purple stone.

  With one quick tug, I pried it from his finger and slipped it on to my thumb. As I stood to face the princess, I imagined myself in my favorite gown of satin and samite, and in that same instant, the garment was upon me, the heavy sweep of its panniered skirts soaking up bloody water from the moat, the delicate heels of my brocade mules sinking into the mud beneath my feet.

  Etheldred’s eyebrows raised once in surprise before resuming her usual amused-but-serene affect. “I gather this is not how your plan was meant to proceed.”

  I bowed my head. “No, Your Highness.”

  “And I do wonder that you did not mention you were in love with the man you meant me to marry.”

  “I did not see that love had aught to do with marriage, Highness.”

  The princess rolled her eyes in Julian’s direction. “Good luck with her. She hasn’t a clue.”

  “But she has a true heart.” Julian swept a nervous bow. “Your pardon, Highness.”

  “You wish to cry off?”

  “That is it, exactly.”

  Her dark eyes rose heavenward, like a long-suffering saint. “Who am I to marry then? I must marry if I am to be queen.”

  “No, Your Majesty.” Etheldred’s uncle stepped forward. “With Galfridus’s threats gone, the council won’t enforce the law. After all, other unmarried queens have held the throne.” Behind him, the other three councilors nodded.

  Etheldred nodded once, as though she had expected this. “Excellent.” She returned her attention to Julian and me. “I suppose I owe you some reward for killing the ogre and opening my path to the throne.”

  “You owe me nothing, Your Highness.” Julian swept another bow.

  Etheldred laughed. “Oh, what a handsome fool he is, dear Stepmama. He wants nothing in return.”

  I glared at her.

  “Be at ease. He has my gratitude, and, by rights of combat, all lands and properties as once belonged to the ogre, Galfridus. Further, I believe I shall create the title of Marquis de Carabas. It has a certain ring to it, don’t you think?”

  “My thanks, Your Majesty,” Julian said. “If I may beg but one more boon?”

  Etheldred laughed again. “Oh, go ahead and do it. I love to see a happy ending as much as the next woman.”

  Confused, I turned my eyes back to Julian, but he had already dropped to one knee.

  “Cat,” he said. “I’m sorry it has taken me so long to tell you I love you. When I saw you with that ogre’s knife to your throat, it was all I could think—that I loved you. That I would love you always.

  “You are my dearest friend and my fondest dream. I should like nothing so much as to spend my life with you. Will you marry me?”

  Chapter Twelve: The Happily

  You might imagine I threw my arms around Julian sighing some treacle such as, “Yes, my love! A thousand times yes!” and we were married and lived happily thereafter.

  No, a thousand times no.

  I laid my hand upon my Julian’s shoulder, and bade him rise. I kissed him and let him wipe my tears away. And then I told him that I could not marry him. Not yet, and perhaps not at all.

  I did not say this to be cruel, but to be fair. My whole life I had been faithless, selfish and self-serving. I had never loved. I had never wanted the happiness of another above my own. Frankly, I doubted whether so warm an emotion as love could last long in my cold breast.

  Julian protested, but I can be as stubborn as he when I set my mind to it. I refused to accept his proposal until I was certain I could be worthy of it. Worthy of him. After much argument, he agreed to remain at the keep to put his new lands in order.

  “Three months,” he said after he had kissed me again. “If you do not return to me after three months, I will come for you.”

  His determination made my heart flutter, but it did not stop me from returning to the palace with the princess. I returned to my rooms. I had Livith and Hildithe punished for stealing my clothes and was just as happy about it as I would have been before I fell in love.

  I caught up on all of the gossip, both political and social, and basked in the fame and admiration my role in Galfridus’s death had brought. I danced and flirted and let men of all shapes and statures sing the praises of my beauty. I did everything I had done before my adventures, save one thing. I wanted no man but Julian, and in his absence, I had no men at all. Not a kiss, not a touch, not a fuck. Nothing.

  I was faithful. No one could have been more surprised than I at this spontaneous exhibition of virtue.

  “It is like you are someone else, entirely,” Queen Etheldred remarked as we sat in her garden one day. “Oh, I do not mean that you are no longer gossip-mongering, devious and vengeful, but there is a light in you. Something good and kind that was not there before.”

  She paused and look
ed at me. “I think you’ve grown a heart, dear Stepmama—and that is not the only change. I see in the palace accounts that you make no more extravagant purchases.”

  “I’ve no need of them.” I offered her my right hand, which still bore the ogre’s ring. “Galfridus’s ring ensures that I may wear any ensemble I can imagine.”

  “Then I needn’t worry that you might be bribed with jewels or clothes.”

  “Why would you worry that I might be bribed? I am your father’s widow, Your Majesty. I have no real power in the court.”

  “But you know everything that goes on within the palace walls, and you keep the courtiers in line.”

  “True,” said I, quite liking where our conversation was headed.

  “There is an opening on the council, Cat. I should like you to have it.”

  “Me? Whatever for?”

  “I need someone I can trust in that seat, and, much as it surprises me, I trust you.”

  “Why would you do a thing like that?”

  “Julian trusts you.”

  “But he trusts too easily. I lied to him. I endangered him by pulling him into my plot against the ogre. I broke his heart.”

  “You did what you thought was best for him, even when it went contrary to what you wanted most.”

  I narrowed my eyes. Queen Etheldred sounded far too confident. She spoke as though she knew me, but she had somehow got the idea that I had redeeming qualities.

  “And in your learned opinion, dear Stepdaughter, what do I want most?”

  “My ‘learned opinion.’ Why, Stepmama, are you being snide?”

  “Never, Your Majesty.”

  “Then I shall tell you what you want most. You want the miller’s son more than you want anything, save the miller’s son’s happiness. That is why you are not with him. You fear for your constancy. You would rather hurt yourself than risk hurting him.”

  I raised my chin. “You don’t know that.”

  She laughed. “But you do. Go to him, Cat. Quit moping around the castle and go marry that man.”