Norton, Andre - Anthology (36 page)

 
          
 
Then things changed. Within the cellars, odd
designs were drawn on the paved floors. Two crying Dravencat cubs were brought
in to be placed in cages. I had to bite back cries of rage at that. The Hill
Cats are sacred to Pasht. They are under her hands. What evil would be brought
down on us all for this sacrilege? But whatever they'd planned, it did not
work. There was much chanting, and even the sacrifice of a ram. A fine yearling
who should have lived on to share his perfection with the flock. But I think
they learned from the attempt, whatever it might have been. I could catch
sufficient of the talk to know they now had other plans.

 
          
 
"... and the cubs?"

 
          
 
'Take them back where you found them. I'll see
they sleep until after you've left them."

 
          
 
"... next and when?"

 
          
 
"As soon as we can catch ..." he
moved away, pacing as he spoke. "... sacrifice from the one, power from
the other. Next dark of the moon would be the best time. Just be sure you
take-it alive...."

 
          
 
".. . if the other ..."

 
          
 
"... have to move fast. Pasht-cursed
beasts see in the dark, smell through rock. Have power of their own, too
..."

 
          
 
He could only be speaking of the Dravencats. I
watched as they left the cellars. The cubs would be returned unharmed, but
there was some other evil now planned. I could not be sure, but it had
sounded—surely I had to be wrong. The cubs had been bad enough.

 
          
 
* * *

 
          
 
I basked in the strong sun as Summer closed
with Fall. They would wrestle a while before Summer yielded and the long bright
days were done. But I was uneasy. I had the feeling of events happening around
me which might draw me into them unwilling. The blonde two-legs cub still lived
within their lair. That I knew. But too many strange things had happened this
Summer for me to be wholly carefree. I rose to pad silently along my favorite
trail. A fine fat prey would take my mind from such forebodings. I rounded the
bend just as a slight sound from overhead made me pause. A great net fell from
above, and I was entangled even as I would have leaped to safety. I howled my
outrage. This was some two-legs trick!

 
          
 
How dare they entrap one of my kind! I slashed
viciously at the cords. Several parted. Ah, good. I would show this foolish
two-legs that . . . powder puffed into my muzzle. It clogged my nose so that I
must breathe it in. My senses slipped away even as I fought. I, Many Kills,
Hunter of the High Hills, daughter of my clan, I was taken. I do not know how
long it was before I awoke. At first I lay motionless, scenting all I could
before allowing an eyelid to drift upward. I could scent no two-legs nearby,
nothing but the iron of my cage and fouled water in a shallow pan.

 
          
 
At length I opened my eyes fully. I sat up a
little to test the upper air. Still nothing. I breathed in deeply. Nothing but
the very faint traces of both cubs and overlaying that—Evil! I blinked slowly.
Evil? Not the usual stink of purely two-legs plots and maneuverings. It was the
smell of one who delighted in cruelty and other unsavory pastimes. That scent I
had been taught when I was a cub. I searched my memory, breathed in the scent
here again. But no, it was an unfamiliar evil. That was interesting. This
two-legs would seem to have found a new thing. I lay down again. No doubt they
would feed me soon. I would sleep and recover strength. Then I would teach them
what it was to anger a daughter of my kind.

 
          
 
I slept, woke, slept again. I was weakening,
but still none came. I had long since drunk the water, foul though it was; now
my throat burned. Finally they came bearing more water but no food. I buried my
muzzle and drank, and they gave me more before departing. Now I understood.
What purpose they had for me I did not know. But I was to be so weakened for
it, a struggle would be hopeless. This explained in part the cubs. They, too,
had seemed weak and starved when found. But for some reason they must have been
useless. They had been returned that we might suspect nothing. I raged at our
folly, but there were none to hear. At length I slept again.

 
          
 
I crawled down the narrow stair. I had been
unable to steal another candle and could not risk a fall. Above Nurse would
stand guard, turning away any who asked with the lie that I bathed. Not that
any had ever inquired. So long as I kept out of the way I was ignored. Tromar
undoubtedly had a purpose for me, but for now he consolidated his defeat of our
people by brutality and license both. His men-at-arms were permitted anything
they chose to do. Their preferences were reflected in a growing toll of
suicides among the younger men and women and older children of our Keep.

 
          
 
At first I had been afraid. But now after
almost three months, I hated. Sometimes it seemed as if the rage was too great
for me to contain. That it must burst out and consume me. I had never
questioned that it was for my Parents to rule—but also to care for those who
looked to us. Now I alone was left to care. And I did with all that I had to
give. At first it wore hard as I listened to things I could never have believed
a season earlier. Now I believed and with each telling my fury and the need to
be avenged flamed higher. Then I overheard another conversation.

 
          
 
"... message from the nearest Shrine.
They will not ratify my Lordship of the Keep without testing the girl."

 
          
 
"But, Lord Tromar. If they do test her,
they will know her for unwilling. Even holding the people here as captive
against that will not make her more than willing to the eye."

 
          
 
"I know. So I plan another path; there
are two that can be used. I will try them both."

 
          
 
"And then she will be your Bride before
the Shrine?"

 
          
 
A soft dangerous chuckle. "Bride—or
nothing. Or perhaps, just perhaps if I chose the second path, a gateway."
Again the chuckle as footsteps'faded across the hall.

 
          
 
I shivered. That was why I had been kept
undamaged goods. The Priestesses of Pasht in the High Hills were most severe of
all the Shrines. A girl-child might be wed by proxy-marriage to an adult male.
But only if she were tested by truth-trance and found willing. Clearly Tromar
had not known this. In another few months, once Winter turned into Spring, I
would be ten. Old enough for a self-agreed proxy-marriage. But with the testing
stated, it would be known I did NOT agree. That I came unwilling to any
wedding. Without that passing of the test, no proxy-marriage would be legal.

 
          
 
To hold the Keep legally, Tromar must either
see I passed the test or wait until I was fourteen and a woman. Then I could be
wed—willing or not. It was the use of children the Priestesses sought to
prevent. I believed it was the form Tromar wished. He would force nothing on me
too early lest I miscarry and die. That, too, would leave him without title.
Vaguely, I wondered why he wished to have all legal. It did not seem like the
man I was coming to know from my careful spyings. Two nights later there was a
great commotion. Two days again and the whisper came to my ears. This time they
had taken a full-grown Dravencat.

 
          
 
I was stunned. She was to be kept from food
and light. Starved into weakness until Tromar could prepare. I whispered in
turn. The Dravencats were children of Pasht. The Lady would not allow one to be
used by or for evil. If we aided the beast, it might be that the Lady would aid
us in turn. Little by little food passed upward to our room. I locked the
growing supply within my secret passage for the day. Then, once all was silent
in the Keep, I slipped within the wall to descend the secret stair.

 
          
 
By my estimate, it had been four days and
nights since I had eaten. I had been hungry when I was taken. Now that hunger
was a raging river that scoured through my body. My kind are large and
powerful. But to fuel that power and muscle we require large amounts of food. I
had eaten nothing for too long. Soon I would begin to weaken. I heard a rustle
in the wall. A kio? I could eat even one of those stinking little rodents by
now. They were carrion eaters, cannibals, and wholly disgusting, but to keep my
strength against the coming danger I would have devoured even one of them were
it to come forth.

 
          
 
But with my night vision, I saw it was no
rodent. Instead a portion of the wall was swinging silently open. I recognized
the scent and suppressed a most un-Draven-cat cry of welcome. The blonde
cub—and bearing food. Not a great deal, nor usually of the kind such as I would
eat. But in my position, it was not for me to refuse. I backed carefully to the
far side of my cage and lay down. I knew that most two-legs feared us, let the
cub see I intended no harm. She held a light in one small hand. A tiny flame
atop a stick-like thing with the scent of bees. Enough for her to see that I
offered no threat. She laid the food just within the cage, watching me all the
time with worried eyes.

 
          
 
I laid the food within the great cat's reach
praying she would understand. She seemed gentle enough, perhaps it was true as
all the tales said. That the beasts were intelligent by the Gift of Pasht. And
that they harmed none who meant them no harm in turn. I made bold to speak.

 
          
 
"Lady Cat, I'm sorry there isn't more,
but this was all we could get safely. Tomorrow night I'll try to bring
more." In the meager iightjrf the candle I could see the water pan too was
empty. I'could bring water as well. I told her that waiting for some
acknowledgment. She only blinked at me, but I did feel an odd twinge in my
mind. Imagination. My parents had always said I had too much of that. It
reminded me of them and pain brought tears for a second

 
          
 
I stepped back bowing politely. "I must
go. Eat well and may the Goddess bless you, Lady."

 
          
 
* * *

 
          
 
I watched as the wall swung quietly closed
again before I began to eat. I had tried to communicate. I was sure that a
little of the power resided in the cub, but while I could understand much from
her scent and movement, it seemed she had understood nothing of mine. Two-legs
were so limited. It was a nuisance, but time and patience might overcome that.
I had touched her somehow, that I knew. It had brought a picture to her mind.
Two adults of her kind, and then great grief. I assumed her parents had died,
probably at the hands of him who had ordered my capture.

 
          
 
Oh, yes. I knew that. He had left me in the
dark to starve but I was a daughter of the Bright Lady. Vision, even in such
darkness, was mine. And I could sense when he neared the place in which I was
caged. Twice he had come. Each time I had put forth all my ability and learned
two things. Firstly the scent of waiting and impatience that this must be so.
But overlying that, the stench of evil. Whatever it was for which he waited, it
was no good purpose and I was in there somewhere. I had not been captured,
caged, and starved for mere amusement.

 
          
 
I ate the food, licked up every crumb and
grease spot, then lay down once more. I would conserve my strength. It began to
seem as if I might need it for more than just an escape. Slowly a feeling was
growing on me that I was here for a purpose, and not the one intended by that
one of wickedness. Perhaps this was the Bright One's way of sending a warrior
against that which she herself fought. I would wait in patience to be shown.

 
          
 
The minute all was quiet the next night, I
fled down the stair. From one shoulder two filled waterbags swung on leather
straps. From one hand a basket filled with all the scraps we could glean hung
heavy. I listened at the peephole. Silence and dark. I slid the panel open and
raised my candle. The Dravencat's eyes glimmered in the tiny light. As I stood
there, she slowly rose and backed to the back of her cage. Then she lay down
again, eyes fixed on me. It was an oddly deliberate movement. Almost as if she
wished me to see she meant me no harm.