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Authors: Harold Konstantelos

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BOOK: Three Wise Cats
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“Anyway, we obviously did get to Alexandria, and sailed from that huge port here to Lepcis Magna, on the coast of the Mediterranean Sea, part of the new Roman province of Africa. As astronomers and scholars, we serve the Roman Empire at Augustus Caesar's pleasure.
“You will actually be retracing part of my journey during yours, so perhaps some of my earlier experiences will aid you. Before you set out in three weeks, I will relate to you anything at all which may help you.”
Kezia was still staring at him. “I know the astronomer named all of us, choosing our names from one of his religious texts. But where did he get your odd name?”
“Our astronomer named me for Ptolemy Phila delphus, the pharaoh of Egypt who founded the Alexandria library. How I wish I could have visited it myself!”
The tabby laid her head down, put her dainty paws over her ears, and refused to look at Ptolemy.
Abishag nudged her. “What's wrong? Why are you pouting again?”
“He could have told us at least a little of this before,” Kezia whispered, her injured feelings very apparent. “I might have been given as a gift to a king or someone of royal blood myself, if only I'd known he had all these connections.” And she sniffled slightly.
Ptolemy smiled under his whiskers. He'd heard the whispers. And that was one reason he'd never told the charming but rather vain little cat his past.
She will see the King of Kings, the Messiah,
he thought.
What greater gift could exist than that?
Behind a loose stone at the corner of the fireplace crouched Asmodeus, a rat none of the four cats had been able to catch and kill. He was almost as big as Ira and nearly as well educated as Ptolemy. Abishag had caught him once, as Asmodeus did lack her stoic patience—but he had gotten away, leaving only a tuft of fur and a piece of skin in her teeth.
Well, well,
Asmodeus thought, licking his greasy lips.
So they're departing for adventure? That morsel of bacon was delicious, but far from ample for a meal. And tough, also, particularly since I lack the means for adequate chewing. I deserve far better than this. I believe I shall accompany them. Whatever booty they manage to get should be mine as well as theirs.
He carefully curled his tail, broken so many times in so many fights, over his back and slipped behind another stone to be closer to the soft murmurs as the cats conversed. With only one good eye, he had to check carefully in the dim light to be sure Ptolemy wasn't watching for him. He snickered to himself.
Mr. Philosopher will certainly be angered when he finds I've journeyed with them. He thinks I am evil, sure to bring them to ruin by my mere association. Bah! What the gods will to happen, happens. I have no part in that. But I will watch over his darlings constantly, indeed, as carefully as if they were my own little precious ratlings.
Ptolemy lifted his head and sniffed. “I smell rat,” he told the other three cats. “Asmodeus is listening. Be wary of him; he may try to frighten you by telling you tales, perhaps of humans who paint their faces blue and eat cats for dinner.”
Ira yawned. “They'll have to catch us first.”
“They also do not do such things,” Ptolemy continued. “They are called Tauregs; desert dwellers and nomads, they may be rough and uncivilized but they do not eat cats. They may”—he raised his voice so the listener in the shadows would hear him—“catch and eat rats, for they do not tolerate useless creatures who try to live in their tents.”
A scurrying sound to one side of the fireplace made Ptolemy grin widely, and he nodded at Abishag. She laughed, knowing full well who'd made the noises, and washed her face with her paw.
2
T
HEIR LESSONS COMMENCED in earnest the next day. Since the elderly astronomer's maps were only those of the heavens, Ptolemy taught the younger cats how to keep their course by the stars, and the land features to keep in mind. Fortunately, their astronomer's tower lay at the outskirts of Lepcis Magna, so their first week's travel on the road should see them within the city. Once there in the Roman Empire's outpost, they would eat well: rats and mice abounded, and they might even be lucky enough to beg some cream or butter, to start a small layer of fat beneath their fur coats.
“Keep in mind that even though the days are so warm you should drink water as often as possible, you must begin to prepare for the much colder days and nights ahead. The seasons are changing, and you must also, to survive.” The aged Siamese stopped and looked at his three charges. Kezia was dozing in the warm sunlight; Abishag was busy trying to sniff out a mouse, which had hidden itself in the wall around the water well; and Ira was yawning while carefully examining each claw.
“Go on, old man,” he said to Ptolemy. “I'm listening. You and I both know it will be me who does the fighting and the exploring. The ladies aren't up to it.”
Abishag crept up behind him and boxed an ear. “I'm a better hunter than you are any day!” The two leaped at each other then and rolled across the dirt of the courtyard as a black bundle of hisses and paw swipes. Ptolemy lay down, nudging Kezia over so he got a share of the sunshine, too.
“I may as well end the lessons for today,” he said above the growls and muffled threats.
Kezia stirred. “I was listening. I heard everything you said.” She yawned and pushed her paws into his thick fur, warming them.
The much bigger cat sighed. “I most truly hope so.”
Asmodeus slipped across the top of the wall that separated the tower's courtyard from the open area leading to the gate.
I hope so, too. Their studies are not proceeding well, obviously. Once out in the world, if they don't keep their tiny wits about them, they shall all be killed. But then, they are not my responsibility. Journey I shall, for it is far too dreary and predictable in this tower to suit my cultured tastes.
Soon the short time they had left to spend in the tower was gone, and dawn on the day of their departure came in a glorious haze of gold, peach, and palest blue.
Ptolemy went to find Ira; Abishag and Kezia were already sitting in the courtyard, sniffing the cool air and eager to be off.
Ira had a paw firmly planted on Asmodeus's head as Ptolemy hurried into the tower room where they had all lived. “Be careful!” he called to the younger cat. “Remember, a rat's bite is often fatal, because of the vileness of his mouth.” Ira lazily lifted his paw and let Asmodeus escape, screaming curses at the cat as he fled.
“I could've had him for breakfast,” Ira explained, “but he smelled too bad to eat.”
Ptolemy chuckled. “Come on, Ira the Hunter. The girls are ready to depart.”
He rubbed his head against each of them, and the female cats gently licked his ears. He had cared for each of them as they had been found and fostered by the old astronomer.
“Good-bye,” he said softly. “You are going forth to fulfill a noble destiny. God be with you, and may He bring you safely home once again, after you have found the Messiah.”
3
T
HE THREE SET off, tails car-
T
ried high and stepping smartly as they followed the path that led from the tower door to Lepcis Magna; a full seven days' journey for twelve small paws.
“Shall we sing?” Ira teased the two girls as they walked abreast, weaving in and out of the shadows thrown by small bushes growing wild beside the same path humans used.
“What are you mewling about?” Abishag asked absently. She was more interested in watching for a tasty snack of a few butterflies or a beetle than what her foster brother had to say. While they'd eaten a very good breakfast—Ptolemy had stayed up half the night to catch each of them three plump, tender mice—she still could always manage a mouthful of dessert. And hadn't he said they needed to put fat on their bones?
“If we sing, we'll attract attention, once we have humans about,” Kezia said sternly. “And Ptolemy said to be as inobstru—unobtu—invisible as possible.”
Ira laughed; he felt in his heart this was the adventure to which he'd been born. And so as he walked, he purred to himself, enjoying the day and the warming sunshine.
They slept that night burrowed into a small haystack not far from the path, which had now widened to a road as they neared a village.
“I still wish Ptolemy had come with us.” Abishag yawned as she snuggled closer to Kezia.
“We could all use his thick fur coat and warm paws about now,” Kezia answered.
“This is nothing!” Ira boasted. “When he took me along for the falcon hunt last winter, it was far colder than this at night. And I, still a kitten, slept by myself.”
“Then you can do so again,” Kezia said, and she pushed him away from where the two girls were curled up in the fragrant dried hay.
“Oh, well.” He sighed. “I'll take the first watch.”
BOOK: Three Wise Cats
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