Mark of the Cat and Year of the Rat

by Andre Norton

  His features were very sharp and his eyes alive. We had time to view him in such detail for he said nothing, though his thin lips were curved in what might be a welcome. Those gleaming eyes surveyed us with the same intensity as we regarded him.

  “Well met,” to my surprise he spoke in the rich tones of one who sang to a Kifongg at some imperial feast.

  I would be guided by Ravinga. Since she made no answer I remained silent instead of demanding an explanation. Also he showed very little interest in me; his attention was for my companion. When she did not reply his quirk of half smile deepened.

  “It has been a goodly number of seasons but time has favored you. Have you discovered a Power which grants you such boons?” He still did not address her by name but I was sure that once they had been well known to each other.

  “Faugh!” His lips lost that half smile. “You never used to be at a loss for words.”

  “Shakasse, Quinzell.” She spoke mildly as if greeting some customer in her shop.

  A frown creased his slender brows. “You dare—”

  His emotion began to erupt. The music was gone from his voice; sharpness was displayed, as might be a weapon. “That is gone—there is no one left to say that to me—but you!”

  “Shakasse, Quinzell.” she repeated.

  He tensed. “So be it.” There was a shading of finality in that. Now he turned his attention to me and smiled. I was aware of the sneer that lay behind.

  “You at least are not going to mouth ancient curses. Those are not suitable for Allitta, the Companion to the Emperor. Well.” His stare dropped to my feet and traced up my body slowly.

  It was if those eyes were hands, pulling at my clothing, baring my body. We of the Outer Regions in the heat of summer half seasons have no shame of body—clothing is shed piece by piece for comfort. But this slow gaze turned on me was that of one buying an oryxen. I could expect him next to demand that I open my mouth so he might inspect the soundness of my teeth. His eyes were suddenly on my breast when he laughed.

  “Ho, that is the way of it?” He spoke again, not to me but Ravinga. “I thought that which you serve forbids such meddling.”

  Before I realized what he would do, he took a sudden stride bringing him very close, and directly before me. His hand swung up and his fingers shaped some gesture meaningless to me.

  Only—as it had been before I could not stir, my breath came shallower. As I fought for breath his hand now reached for me, thrusting aside my cloak, to tear roughly at the fastening of my riding tunic, then at the silk shirt beneath.

  A moment later he held before my eyes the chain warm from my body, at the end of it the amulet Ravinga had given me. He swung the chain yet further, until the pendant cut through the air.

  “A trinket, which this emperor of yours should and will see. How does he answer to betrayal and trickery, Allitta?”

  I made him no answer.

  “Well enough—you are of a like kind,” he addressed us both now. “However, if your ploy has failed, you are still of some value to me.”

  He looked beyond us to the door curtain. Though he gave no signal, that was drawn aside and one of the man-rats entered. His master moved towards him. Then his armlets gleamed brightly as he indicated this monstrous guard.

  “See what stands here? Ravinga, Wise One, ask him who and what he is.”

  “What he is, is an abomination,” there was no tremor in her voice. “Who he was,” she accented the ‘was’, “answers to the name of Upitan-va-Harkkel.”

  Quinzell nodded. “Just so. Now perhaps you understand that it is in my power to handle those of your kind not only to prevent any betrayal of me, but also to substantially add to my forces.”

  Sickness arose in my throat. Since Ravinga did not protest, this must be the truth. How the evil from the past could accomplish such horror I did not understand, but the sickening truth was clear.

  “Think on this; think well. You will have time to consider.” Now seeming in the best of moods, he laughed.

  Exploring the city of the past:

  The Kotti’s head was high and now and again it halted, always making sure to remain in the shadows. Kassca’s sense of smell was acute. What she picked up now was perhaps the odor of age—and emptiness. The talent of her kind was her guide. So far there was nothing to fear here. She flowed up steps, to trot down a second hall. Had these doors once been curtained, such barriers had long ago rotted way. Dust, emptiness. So it went until another flight of stairs lay behind her. Now—She flashed to her right, into one of those empty rooms. The window was well above her line of sight but she leaped to crouch on its sill. Pavement was far beneath her now but there was very little space between her and a similar opening in the adjoining building. Again she strained to catch the faintest sniff of a familiar scent.

  There was movement on the sill of that other window. Crouched there was the Kotti of the Wise One.

  Thought touched thought—“Come!”

  In spite of another scent Kassca now picked up, that of the rat-headed thing, she understood. Calling upon all her skills, she launched herself and landed on the narrow width Wiu had just left, to face down into the chamber where he waited for her impatiently.

  Again Kassca leaped, to join the black Kotti. Together they slunk into a hall, making a swift way along it until they came to another doorway, this properly curtained. Both Kottis snarled near silently. Wiu leaped—not through the curtain, but to an ornamental edge farther up the wall—and disappeared through an opening there. Kassca followed. They came out inside the room.

  Her own human! Kassca would have immediately leapt again, but Wiu stopped her. As they sat on a dust carpeted inner projection he said:

  “They cannot move. Evil has been wrought. They are caged.”

  He spat. Kassca hissed loudly. Her human did not look up, nor did the Wise One to whom Wiu was companion.

  CHAPTER 24

  Hynkkel-ji:

  Kalikku was a shadow in the faint light that reached us through the cracks between the hides.

  “It lessens,” he reported from where he crouched before one of the cracks.

  “So soon?” Commander Ortaga demanded. “That is not natural!”

  Perhaps not, I thought, unless we were favored now by some Power great enough to master wind and sand. My fingers moved in a sign of respect. At the same time Murri’s head, resting against me, raised a little and the large golden eyes, which carried their own light, opened.

  “How goes it with you?” I thought sent.

  “Well enough,” he returned. “Soon as the way is open, we go.” It was not a question but a statement.

  It seemed to me that I had spent most of our storm-cloistered time striving to settle one plan and then another. The fatal effect upon those daring to enter the Plain of Desolation was well known. In the land even the sand was not of the reddish shade as in the Outer Regions, but held the gray promise of ever-present death. Some element in it wore away a wayfarer’s skin, blinded him, or else played upon his mind with visions, which sent him insane.

  Yes, I must make that journey. But what could I do if death met me before I reached Allitta?

  Murri picked up my thoughts; they had worn deep paths during our wait. Now he gave me a single word. “Waterways—”

  The underground rivers, yes. But what had they to do with the Plain of Desolation?

  Suddenly, as if Murri had drawn back a curtain, I thought of that house in Kahulawe, of a woman dying because she might know a secret. If it were true, as I believed, that the Queendoms were linked by those underground ways, did such also serve the Plain? Legends had hinted of a rich land swallowed up by the Dark in ages past. And there had also been that terrible drought following a war, which had ranged across the entire Outer Region—perhaps one for water control. It all fitted, but it was only one guess laid upon another.

  “The Pride has its legends also,” again Murri touched with thought. “In the day of Harsie Longclaw there was said to be one
who went an underground way and survived, though afterwards he was slain by a hide hunter.”

  “What do you plan?” Kalikku continued to watch the growing brightness without.

  “First,” I answered, having in that very instant at last made up my mind, “we will return to Kahulawe.” I discarded my earlier decision to go west straight for the Plain of Desolation. “There are those among us who must be cared for.” I went no farther; I must know more before I could construct a workable plan.

  So we pulled together and I went about, Jaclan at my heels, my brother several paces farther back, to see what damage had been done. There had been several deaths. All of our mounts and draft beasts were missing. Luckily the Cat spires marked the path of retreat, so we could not lose our way because of shifted dunes.

  At last, with the Commander’s agreement, we dispatched ahead five of the guard to summon aid. Two of the carts were righted and supplies crammed in, leaving enough space for those exhausted or suffering from sand fever. Kalikku volunteered for the scout party.

  Murri was on his feet when they strode away, each bearing a pack of supplies. Had I done as I wished, I would have had him in one of those two carts. But I realized that he would never consent. He was of the desert and might well show us how best to travel through storm ploughed land.

  His burn wound seemed to be already aided by our treatment and he was content to walk beside me instead of forging ahead as was his usual fashion.

  My own place, in spite of all protests, was with the rear guard, except when I took my turn in the crew dragging the carts.

  There began a blurred time, which led at last to the sheer determination to set one foot before the other. I had already shed most of my gala apparel. The sand clung to my partially bared body as it did to those of my companions. The water bottles were passed, skin was brushed and then coated with creams, and handfuls of dried meat and algae were shared out. Keep going we did, until at last those from Kahulawe came to our aid. I can remember very little of the last of that trek, but reach our goal we did.

  On the Road Back to Valapa:

  Where Yuikala rode there were few signs of the storm. They were already a night out of Kahulawe, and she had to admit to herself that the party she now commanded was indeed slow travelers. There was no possible way to speed ahead with her own guards and leave them. She wondered at the fate of the rest of the Progress. Those in Queendom behind her had pessimistically shared the belief that they had been caught in the storm and were lost.

  Another Emperor—and this time certainly one of their own way of thought. There were the tests, of course, but also there were men, some among her own guard, who were trained and skillful enough for that, even to finish and hold the crown. Such tests could not be hurriedly set up—it was too short a time since that barbarian had the unbelievable luck to grasp a rule he was not entitled to. They could now, she thought with satisfaction, believe him removed from the game. And with him—her lips puckered as if she was about to vulgarly spit—that slut! So Vurope would be vacant again. This time, naturally it would remain in Imperial Hands, or perhaps be granted to a new House, bound properly to the Diamond Throne.

  She had dispatched two messengers. If the barbarian had survived—and managed to reach Kahulawe—he was going to discover that his crown was about to be lifted from his head—and perhaps his head with it.

  In the City of the Plain:

  Kassca and Wiu used eyes, ears, and noses to the fullest extent. Finally they leaped from their perch and carefully approached the two women, each settling before the one with whom bonded.

  Both Ravinga and Allitta remained silent and unmoving, only their eyes watching the Kottis. Ravinga blinked slowly and blinked again. Wiu jumped, landing on the doll maker’s knees. He stood on his hind paws stretching up to put forefeet on Ravinga’s breast. Higher still he reared until he was able to touch noses with the woman.

  So they sat for several long moments. Then Wiu dropped to four feet again and stepped down to the ledge on which the women sat. He began to hook claws and set teeth in Ravinga’s robe. When these were fully anchored he retreated, drawing the outer garment away until it spread on the ledge at the right hand corner near Ravinga. At length he crouched and began to tear with his claws at one special section of the lining. The heavy material gave way almost thread by thread. Meanwhile Kassca had gone over to the door curtain. Seating herself before it she set her senses on guard.

  The material was at last in shreds, which once more Wiu nosed until he drew carefully from the rags a gleaming coil where colors rippled along each loop. The Kotti busied himself biting at a narrow piece of cloth that held the coil together. Kassca trotted over from the doorway as the string gave way. Wiu jerked his head and the loops were loops no longer, rather a length of color glinting cord.

  With one paw set on this he looked intently at Kassca. The younger Kotti reared up to catch in her mouth the dangling end. Now back on the floor, with a last long glance at Wiu, she moved to the left drawing the cord with her past Ravinga. Wiu held the other end of his find before the doll maker, unmoving.

  Kassca proceeded. Having passed by Allitta she dodged behind the girl’s legs until she had made a circle coming back to Wiu where she dropped the cord’s end, and went to sit before Allitta.

  The cord suddenly flared brilliantly; one color pursued another in ripples, which came faster and faster. Wiu made no move, yet Kassca felt pain growing ever stronger until she could not subdue a protesting cry. The light was no longer a part of the cord. Rather it flowed to the sitting women, climbed their bodies, and thickened until they could not be seen—there was only brightness.

  Kassca moved until she could feel Wiu’s throbbing body against hers. Pain deepened and she cried out again. There came a final blast of pure agony. Then the light was gone. As it disappeared there sounded a cry, not from Kassca.

  “Little one!” sound and thought touched both.

  “Kassca! Wiu!” Two voices joined. Hands reached, closed about small bodies, and lifted both Kottis up. The pain was gone, there was now stroking, the warm feeling of being where one always wanted to be.

  Kassca shook her head as tears wetted the fur of her head. Her file-rough tongue swept along flesh, which held the proper scent of her own tall one. She nestled closely into comforting arms.

  “Dreaming can certainly have a good purpose,” Ravinga cuddled Wiu closer. “Had I not had such a warning I would not have come prepared. Quinzell may have summoned new evil to do his bidding, but I have also added to my resources.”

  “Magic—will he not be warned when it is used within his very fortress?” asked the girl.

  “It depends upon what he was doing at the moment the furred ones freed us. However it is right that we should make good use at once of this chance.”

  Still holding her Kotti she stood and Allitta followed her.

  Allitta:

  Any action of my companion no longer had the power to astound me. It would appear that she had an answer to every need. Now, supporting Wiu with one hand, she stooped and gathered up the ragged bits of cloak lining.

  “I think up instead of down,” she continued and my now unclouded wits translated that to mean we must scout a way into the upper floors of this pile.

  Even as I had seen Murri do with Hynkkel—so did the Kottis take over the scouting for us, Wiu to the fore and my Kassca at our heels.

  Twice we were warned in time to dart into a chamber as a guard passed. However after we reached the floor above that where we had been captives we were alone. At last we came to a cluster of chambers, five of them, two to a side, and one ending the hallway. Here the walls were all of the dark colored slabs, more thickly inscribed than the panels above.

  Ravinga halted before the mid door. The Kottis waited by us showing no desire to proceed. From her inner robe Ravinga brought out the small rod by which she had summoned the old map to life. Her lips moved but I heard no sound.

  Then, with the delicate touch she u
sed with her finest work on the dolls, she inserted the rod into one of the graven paths of the carving, about half way down the stone. At the meeting of rod and stone, a spark flashed to light.

  “Amassia fraku Sandaska,” she intoned and began to draw the tip of the rod along, away from the point of contract. As it went it continued to illuminate the stone over which it passed. The carvings stood out boldly as it traveled upward. Now the design it traced was blood red.

  As Ravinga at last lifted the rod the light failed and vanished. She nodded.

  “Not all is gone. Come!”

  I obeyed. The door opened under her hand and once more with Kassca and Wiu we went on.

  The chamber into which we passed was bare—even of such a ledge seat as had served us in our prison. Nor did any windows break the gray walls. It was so dusky we moved with care.

  When she reached the center Ravinga became intent on the flooring. Once more she waved the rod in the air, then held it straight before her and began to raise it slowly.

  There was neither sound of a lock giving away nor any grate of stone against stone. However even in this limited light I could see a large block rising at a speed matching the movement of the rod. Now Ravinga swung the still rigidly held rod to her left and the stone, free of its bedding in the floor, swung to one side.

  One could now see not only the opening left in the floor, but down in it. The dusty-musty odor, which had haunted us since we entered, vanished. We breathed air that was warm but it carried also a scent, which was so nauseating that I swallowed, and my hands flew to my nose.

  Ravinga stepped before me into the black square opening and beckoned. Wiu sprang and caught claws expertly in her tattered cloak, climbing to the doll maker’s shoulder. Though the stench which now enfolded us made me near unsteady, I also stepped down into the pit, catching up Kassca as I went.