Journeyman Cat

by Virginia Ripple

  Copyright © 2013 by Virginia Ripple. All rights reserved.

  Cover design by Virginia Ripple

  Photo image courtesy of Eric Isselée/Bigstock.com

  Chapter 1

  The cacophony of voices was deafening in the small room as each of the council members shouted to be heard. Adele flattened her ears to her sleek black head. She scanned the room, trying to gauge who was shouting in favor of the proposal, who was against and who was just screaming to have a say in the matter. Her piercing yellow gaze landed on the enormous black tom sitting on a stool beside Councilman Damon. There was no mistaking the gleam in his green eyes, nor the ever-so-slight splaying of his whiskers. He was enjoying this.

  Adele glanced at the tom’s human partner. The man reclined in his chair, his plump fingers steepled over his ample belly. For all intents the man looked as if he were seriously contemplating the high temple priest’s absurd proposal. The queen had no doubts that the man’s furrowed brow and frown would convince the other humans in the room.

  Most of them, anyway. Adele turned to watch her partner. Clarence O’dorn was the opposite of Damon. He leaned forward with his elbow on the table, his chin cupped in the hollow between thumb and index finger. Wrinkles had etched pathways from his eyes and across his forehead. They were a leftover from the battle they had fought together six years ago against this ever-increasing terror brought on by a power hungry monster.

  The black queen looked at her own sleek body, at the wheeled contraption that allowed her freedom of movement. A wave of self-pity crashed through her. She pushed it aside. At least she had survived, which was more than many could say. Her gaze drifted back up to her partner. The comparison between him and the councilman went beyond just their physical appearance. While both men were mages, Damon had never risen to the rank of master. Damon was, in Adele’s opinion, nothing more than a spoon-fed pig, a puppet in the hands of a master manipulator.

  The sound of a banging gavel could be heard over the shouting. Adele’s attention swiveled toward the haggard looking man at the front of the room.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” called the interim grand master mage. “I understand that you each want a say in what we decide to do regarding the high temple priest’s proposal, but can we please have some decorum?”

  Council members took their seats, still grumbling. The squeak of a chair drew Adele’s attention toward Councilman Damon. The man had tilted forward and placed his palms on the table. Like a troubadour about to give an prize-winning monologue, he turned his gaze onto each of the council members. He opened his arms wide, encompassing the entire assembly, his eyebrows knitting together in apparent concern.

  “Colleagues… friends…. It seems we have come to an impasse. I’m sure, should our esteemed grand master mage call a vote this moment, we would find ourselves evenly divided.”

  He paused, giving each council member another compassionate look. Adele glanced around the room to see many humans nodding in agreement. She looked up at her partner. He sat back in his chair and absently rubbed an index finger across his chin. The queen returned her scrutiny to the councilman. He had grasped his embroidered vest with one hand and had the other out as if weighing an invisible object.

  “On the one hand,” he said, “closing the public schools and making all children attend the various remaining temples for education seems absurd, if not downright impossible to implement. Many towns no longer have temples, let alone the simple churches they once had. How would we transport so many children to other areas? And what about the cost of such a venture? Can our devastated economy handle just one more expense? Who will foot the bill?”

  Adele watched as more heads began to nod in agreement. These were good questions, but she knew none of them were the real reason the idea of closing the schools was a bad one. As usual, Damon was evading the core issue. The queen looked back at her partner again, wondering why he had yet to say anything. Perhaps he was waiting for the councilman to make a mistake. She turned her attention back to the rotund man. He had swung his other hand out as if weighing another invisible object of equal importance.

  “On the other hand, our children need the best education we can give them. Is it not possible that, had we the knowledge before, Chivato would never have been able to murder so many humans with his infectious disease? While our nobles have the best education they can buy, do we not owe our lower classes the benefit of at least a rudimentary education? As it stands now, many of them will never receive instruction in even letters or numbers because there simply are not enough people in the smaller towns and provinces who have even that much education. Those that did are dead.”

  Damon paused again. If the situation wasn’t so unpredictable, Adele would have snickered. It was like watching a melodrama with a moderately talented actor who thinks he’s the kingdom’s best troubadour. The frightening part was that the council members were listening intently. Few faces reflected discernment. In fact, several of those who had been on opposing sides were now agreeing to everything Damon was saying. The queen’s eyes narrowed as she watched the man’s theatrics. He brought his hands together and clasped them, a slight smile on his lips as he nodded and looked around the room at the members.

  “We do not have to argue, friends, that we each want the best for our kingdom… for our people,” he whispered into the silence. “There is a way, if we are willing to listen and work together. I have seen the map the high temple priest has drawn up. His Order is ready to move several temples into areas where there is a vacancy left by the disease. All they need is for small plots of land to be redistributed for their use and donations to pay for construction of the temple schools.”

  “Who’s going to decide how the land is redistributed?” shouted someone. Damon’s face lit up as he stared in their general direction.

  “The king’s administrators can work out the details, but, as always, the provincial lords should have final say over the land.”

  “So where’s the money going to come from?” shouted someone on the other side of the room. The councilman swiveled to see the questioner.

  “Very good question. A tax can be levied on certain luxury items, nothing too severe. The rest can be taken from a small raise in taxes we already collect from the laborers in the kingdom. All the funds can be funneled through the treasury with clerks in charge of nothing but this endeavor overseeing the expenditures.”

  Murmuring amongst the council members grew as smiles replaced frowns and heads nodded in agreement. Councilman Damon grasped his vest with both hands and beamed. Adele sneaked a glance at the interim grand master mage. His shoulders slumped as he relaxed into the idea. He lifted his gavel to signal a vote.

  “Councilman,” Master O’dorn said, “you seem to have thought of everything.”

  Damon’s smile twisted into a sneer. Adele wanted to slash her claws across his insolent face. She glanced at his feline partner, the black beast’s narrowed green eyes staring at them. She could almost feel the cat’s anger as her partner caused their happy little train to come to a screeching halt.

  “As you said, had we the knowledge earlier, we might have been able to stop Chivato before we lost so many lives. Our children need us to give them that head start. In that we are in complete agreement.”

  “But?” Damon growled.

  Adele looked up at the man she had worked with for most of her life. He nodded, signaling she should have the honor of bursting the councilman’s bubble. She turned her piercing yellow gaze onto the black cat and his potbellied companion.

  “There is the little matter of separation of religion and rule, which, no doubt, you remember being written in
to our governing documents. How do we know these temple instructors won’t force their beliefs on our trusting children?”

  “We have the word of the High temple priest that these schools will be separate from temple instruction,” Damon said.

  “Forgive me, councilman,” said Master O’dorn, “but I think we all know that a person’s word is only as good as those who trust him give it credit.”

  The man’s face grew red, something Adele had become accustomed to. She wondered if this would be the time his head would explode. The queen waited. He was almost bouncing on his toes when his monstrous black partner placed a paw on his arm. The man glanced at the feline, then lowered himself into his chair. The beast looked back at Adele. Her skin shivered down her back.

  “Master Adele has a good point. We cannot be sure the temple schools will be free of doctrinal instruction,” the cat’s voice rumbled across the small room. “Perhaps we should investigate the proposal further before making any firm decisions. I move we send a set of partners to one of the larger temple schools. They can tour the school, sit in on a few classes, interview the students and teachers, then report back to the High Council on their findings in one month.”

  Adele scowled at the tom. She looked up at her partner to see if he had any better ideas. He shook his head.

  “The motion to send partners to a temple school to investigate the setting and curriculum of said school and report back to this council in one month is hereby called to vote. All those in favor say aye.”

  The council members voices rang in agreement.

  “Those opposed say nay.”

  There was nothing but the shuffling of feet.

  “Motion carried.”

  The sound of the gavel hitting the table reverberated off the walls, making Adele’s skin twitch.

  “Levah TAH teh,” Adele murmured. She smoothly rose into the air. The black queen maneuvered herself to the floor, concentrating on making a soft landing. It had taken a lot of practice to learn how to raise and lower both herself and the wheeled contraption, but it had been worth it. At least it was less humiliating than having to have her partner pick her up and carry her.

  She rocked forward, pulling her back legs upright over the wheels. It took less effort now to pull her paralyzed legs along, thanks to Clarence’s clever invention. It had been a combined effort between her partner and her son, a Solstice gift. In some ways it was a painful reminder of the past. However…. She smiled as she remembered the times her appearance had made some of her old classmates uncomfortable. Vindictive, Clarence would have told her, and he would have been right. Still, it felt good to have the upper hand for once.

  The sight of massive black paws in front of her made her stop. She looked up into a set of baleful green eyes. Her skin shivered again.

  “It would seem you have won again, my dear.”

  “It’s not about winning. It’s never been about winning.”

  The black tom blinked.

  “Hasn’t it? Why else would you continue to put yourself through these torturous meetings, especially in your condition?”

  Adele flattened her ears and bared her teeth. “My condition does not affect my mind.”

  “Indeed.”

  The two cats stared at each other. The tom’s tail thumped a slow rhythm on the wood floor. Adele wished she dared look anywhere but that beast’s piercing green eyes. She could stand it no longer.

  “What do you want, Adair?”

  The black tom hissed, leaning forward, inches away from Adele’s nose. The queen tried to jerk back, but her wheeled contraption held her in place. She tried not to show her fear as his hot breath flowed over her face.

  “That is no longer my name.”

  Moments ticked by as she held her breath. Finally the tom sat back, raising a massive paw to his mouth. Adele exhaled as she watched him pull at his claw sheaths. He returned his gaze to her.

  “I have been reborn to deliver the prisoners of humanity. I am,” he said, flashing a piercing green gaze at the trembling queen, “K’dash Shyam.”

  Adele blinked. The black tom’s whiskers splayed wide and he narrowed his eyes.

  “That’s blasphemy,” she hissed. “That title belongs only to the one who brings us out of darkness into the light.”

  “That is what I am trying to do, though you have consistently made it more difficult.”

  The black queen laid her ears back and bared her teeth. “I will always stand in your way. You are not the Beloved.”

  “I am what the world has made me,” he said and yawned.

  “We choose what we become.”

  “If that were true, then what does that say of you, dearling?”

  Adele snarled. K’dash closed his eyes and chuckled, the warm sound so like another tom she once knew it made her heart ache. When he opened his eyes again the illusion shattered. There was nothing warm in those green eyes.

  “Tell me, did your mate teach your son how to win games of strategy?”

  “Leave him out of this.”

  “I would, except he’s already made himself a part of it. Perhaps the better question is, did Victor ever learn to win?”

  The hair along the ridge of Adele’s back rose. It was an old game, one she had yet to succeed at. Say anything and give everything away or say nothing and hope something remained unknown. K’dash cocked his head to the side at her silence.

  “No. I guess he didn’t.”

  “If you weren’t—”

  “But I am and that’s always been the problem, why you’ve never been able to do what needs to be done. I wonder if your son is like you.”

  Adele wanted to slash his nose, shred his ears to ribbon. She felt her claws unsheathe with the thought. Out of the corner of her eye she caught the lithe form of a sleek silver tabby sauntering their way. With great effort she forced her fur flat and sheathed her claws.

  “Master Shyam,” said the silver tabby, dipping her head.

  “Master Natsumi,” Adele said.

  “Master Adele,” she said, turning to stare at the black queen. The silver tabby sat down and curled her tail around her paws.

  “What brings you here?” Adele asked.

  “Reporting to the Office of Loners.”

  “Nothing serious, I hope.”

  “Not at all. Just my annual review.”

  “I hope it went well. The One knows how hard those reviews can be, especially for cats with so few successful missions, like yourself.”

  The she-cat’s gaze was cold. Her tail lashed once, then stilled.

  “The board found my performance quite satisfactory. Thank you for your concern. I understand the head of the Office of Kingdom Guardianship appointed young Toby as a journeyman guardian. That is quite an honor for one so impulsive and with so little experience.”

  “Thank you, Master Natsumi. I’m sure Toby’s skills are of great use to the OKG. He is, after all, the son of the best loner this council has known.”

  The silver tabby lashed her tail again. Adele smiled at the effect the insult had. Yes, she thought, Clarence is right. Vindictive. The silver tabby turned her attention to K’dash.

  “Master Shyam, your presence is requested in Councilman Damon’s office. It seems one of the king’s officials has stopped by to discuss the impending yes vote on the High temple priest’s proposal.”

  The black tom looked back at Adele and sighed.

  “Never an end to my duties, it seems. I’m afraid we will have to continue this conversation another time. Stay safe, my dear. Next time the monsters out there might succeed.”

  The two cats turned and left the council chambers without a glance back. The black queen growled at their retreating tails.

  “So let me make sure I have this correct,” said Lorn, using wha
t Toby had come to think of as his I-don’t-believe-a-thing-you’re-saying-but-I’m-your-best-friend voice. “Your dog brought you a dead rabbit, a rabbit you believe he personally killed, and you’re sure he is working with your neighbor’s cat to kill you so they can have all your money.”

  The toothless old woman nodded. Toby stifled another yawn. Lorn glanced at Toby, then down at the papers on the table in front of him.

  “And tell me again why you think the two are working together?”

  The woman frowned, her mouth drawing in over her gums. She glanced behind herself toward the closed door, then back at the partners as she leaned forward.

  “The cat sat in the tree and watched the whole thing,” she rasped. She narrowed one eye and nodded at them as she sat back in her chair, wrapping her tattered shawl closer around her narrow shoulders.

  “They’re in cahoots, I tell ya. No doubtin’ that old miser’s been bewitched by his devil cat and now they’s comin’ after me using my own dog. T’ain’t right usin’ man’s best friend like that.”

  “Ma’am, exactly what do you think the cat is after?” asked Toby.

  “Why my money, of course. I done told you that.” She looked at the orange tom as if he were addled. Turning back to Lorn, the old woman bent close again. She cast a side-long glance at Toby and placed her hand next to her mouth.

  “They’ll never find it,” she whispered. “I buried it after the plague, when the rioting began.”

  Lorn leaned forward, too. Toby wondered how he could stand the woman’s rancid breath.

  “And how much did you bury?”

  “Five coppers.”

  She winked at the young man, then turned a glare on Toby. He wanted to howl with laughter. This interview was turning out to be one for the records. Not so unusual for a human to accuse a local feline of plotting something terrible, but planning an assassination to gain a few coppers was possibly the best story yet. The young tom wondered if the woman had always been this paranoid.

  “I see,” Lorn replied. He sat back in his chair, rubbing his newly grown beard and frowning. He stared at a spot over the door frame behind the old woman for several moments. When he turned his gaze on Toby, the tom could see the crinkle of smile lines around the man’s eyes, though he was still frowning.