Scanning the 50 some odd prisoners, I asked, "Who is the ranking man?"
"I am," one said. He was bleeding from wounds to his face and chest. "Major Dunwoody, 3rd Light Dragoons."
"Ah, Colonel Oakridge's second in command." I could see that surprised him. "Yes, we've met your colonel. He and his men where guests of honor at our victory feast. Meat was a bit stringy though." The cats laughed. A Westie threw up.
"So, tell me Major Dunwoody of the 3rd Light Dragoons, why have you invaded the Eastern Kingdom?"
"And you are?" he asked.
"Baron Lord Highreacher in the service of King Edward of the Eastern Kingdom, and you are on my lands. So, I ask you again, why are you here?”
"I will speak to a military representative."
"So, you are claiming prisoner of war status?" I asked.
He hesitated. "Yes, we claim prisoner of war status under the war charter treaty."
"Good!" I said, smiling. "Major Dunwoody of the 3rd Dragoons, I charge you with war crimes for the murder of civilians at Windford Estate. How do you plead?"
His mouth dropped open, saying nothing.
"Before I pronounce sentence, I ask you, why did you attack the Windford estate? There was no military value to it."
Dunwoody remained silent.
“So be it. I find you guilty of war crimes and sentence you to death by hanging. Execution to be carried out immediately.”
Someone found rope, tied him, and threw the rope’s loose end over a limb. I stood in front of him and spoke loudly in clannish, "Kill the rest, quickly."
The rest died at my words. The major was put on a horse with the noose around his neck.
"Any last words?"
He looked over at his dead men, then at me. "You," he said.
“What about me?”
"You said Windford had no military value. Our mission was to raid the estate, find and kill you, Lord Highreacher. You were the military target, but they didn't tell us you were a cat." I slapped the horse’s flank, which leapt from under the major leaving him hanging. His neck didn't break, so he was chocking to death. I drew my short gun and shot him in the head.
"Sub-leader!" I called.
"Yes, Baron?"
"Strip the dead. The spoils are yours, except the major’s. Leave him dressed. Move all the bodies to the river, but stay on our side. Rehang the major in a tree that can be seen from their side of the river. Pile his dead under him. Stand their flag with them. Continue scouting with what force you think necessary."
"Yes, Baron."
Back at the ship, I grabbed the dangling climbing rope, calling up, "Captain La-mar.”
"Who goes there?"
"Cam. I'm coming up."
"Come ahead."
As I reached the edge of the ship, he extended a hand and pulled me aboard.
"Sounded like you found some friends to help."
"I did, and they were happy to do so. We're through here. Let’s get back to the keep."
Once underway, I moved to the bow of the ship as we turned east. The sun would be up in an hour or so. I needed to think.
They had attacked and killed my friends, and I was still angry, wanting revenge. I made potential mistakes by acting in anger. My rage ruled me. I had not stopped to think, to form a plan. Man was a dangerous prey, especially these men. They sent others to do their dirty work. They set traps, multiple traps, false scent trails, and staked out bait animals. I needed to learn their chess game, then put my twist on it.
Baron Lord Highreacher was dead. There was a new piece on the board, a bishop perhaps, and I was going to cheat. I remained in the bow, lost in my thoughts, considering strategies, war-gaming. No one bothered me.
* * *
It was early evening when we arrived back at the keep. I told La-mar that Lord Highreacher was dead. I was now Major Bishop. The new rank and name were passed to the crew.
Michael met me as I came off the ship. He didn't say a word; he didn't have too. I bowed. "I am truly sorry for your loss, Michael. I grieve with you. Lord and Lady Windford were dear friends."
"Thank you," he said, closing his eyes for a moment, holding back tears.
I stood. “As to the attackers, we caught them; none escaped. We killed the troops and hung their commander for war crimes. Their bodies were left lying under their hung commander at the border as a warning to others. The southern cat clans have united and are guarding the western border with orders to kill all Westies who cross the river. They want revenge for the burning of their villages and deaths of loved ones. They will rain death on the Westies and any other invaders who dare cross the border.
He nodded." Let's go inside, my friend."
"Captain La-mar," I called over my shoulder.
"Yes, Major?"
"We're staying here tonight. We'll unload cargo in the morning."
"Yes, Major."
“Major?” Michael asked.
“I’ll explain inside.”
Michael noticed I had changed my fur coloring to gold with red markings. "This way, Major."
I followed him into the courtyard, then into the keep proper. There was a makeshift table with benches in the great hall. We sat, and Frederick from Windford served stew, bread, and water.
"I take it there is more to tell?"
“There is. Who is in the keep proper?"
"Just us and Frederick."
"How many people did we lose?"
At Windford, only Frederick survived. Some of our workers from the farms and forest were killed. All told, 32. Because of the keep, we lost less here, only 13.
“James?”
“Alive, furious, and making repairs with Robert.”
"Tink?"
"He lives, but has some burns."
“Before we hung their commander, I questioned him. He claimed POW status, which opened the door to war crimes charges. That was pretty much an admission of war. I asked why they had attacked Windford. There was no military value in doing so. Just before I hung him, he told me that I was the military target. They had raided Windford, specifically to kill me. Everything else was collateral damage." I let Michael absorb that information.
"Why?"
"I don’t know for sure. They tried to kill me three times in the southern capital, while I was there as a diplomat. My guess, they were trying to prevent an alliance between the Eastern and Southern Kingdoms. I became too much of a thorn in their side, and they decided to get rid of me. The odd thing was, the commander was surprised I was a cat. He said they never told him. Not all the pieces fit. So we are going to change the board."
"How?"
"Baron Lord Highreacher was killed in the fighting at Windford," I answered.
"And Major Bishop arrived."
"You hired Major Bishop and his Black Cat Mercenary Company to pursue the invasion force, which he did and destroyed it. He and his company now patrol the western borders. We need to send that information to King Edward, no secret courier, just a normal letter. Spies will read it somewhere along the way. When they learn Lord Highreacher is dead, they shouldn't bother Windford again. Just in case, you’ll take over the keep. Rename it ‘Windford Keep’. Recruit soldiers to man the keep and patrol your lands. In a few weeks or a month, I’ll go see King Edward with a full report."
"And what will you be doing?"
"From the shadows, I'll be doing all I can to ruin their plans and spoil their chess game. They killed Lord and Lady Windford, whose only crime was befriending me. They think they can sit safely in anonymity in some distant land, not so. Whoever they are, and wherever they may be, I will visit a cat's vengeance upon them."
I opened my bag and gave Michael 20,000 sovereigns in banknotes. "Use this to keep everything going. I'll have supplies shipped in. Winter is coming and our people will need them. Our enemies don't realize it yet, but they messed with the wrong people."
“And the wrong cats,” Michael added.
* * *
I, as Major Bishop, slept on t
he ship with the crew. After breakfast, we unloaded cargo into the keep.
Reporting to now Lord Michael Windford, "We're leaving to get another load and will return as soon as we can. I may not be with them on the next run, but I'll return soon. Until then, continue with the plan. Also, have Tink repair our engines."
"I'm sending the letter to the king this morning. He should get it in a few days."
I offered my hand. "Stay safe, brother."
“You as well, brother."
After boarding, the ship got underway, turning south, gaining altitude and opening sails.
"Where to?" La-mar asked.
"The southern capital to buy supplies for the keep. I'll be staying there, while you return with the supplies. After you've made the delivery, return for me."
Chapter 17
As Lord Du-cat, I entered the D&G trading house.
"Good morning, Lord Du-cat," the clerk at the front desk greeted me.
"Good morning. Is Lady Isla in?"
"In her office, M'lord."
I nodded and walk back to our offices. Her door was open, but I still knocked. "Good Morning, Lady."
She looked up, smiling. "Good morning. Have you had breakfast?"
"I have not."
"In that case, let's go eat," she said, rounding her desk. She took my arm, and we headed for the residence. "All is well?" she asked.
"There have been some developments."
She stopped us in the courtyard, looking at me.
"Our friend, Lord Highreacher, was killed by Westies when they raided the Windford estate."
She frowned. "I'm sorry to hear that. And the Windfords?"
"Lord and Lady Windford were killed, along with most of their staff. Their son, Michael, survived. He has taken up residence in Highreacher's keep, which was also attacked. The Westies burned Windford Manor to the ground. They
also burned all the warehouses and outbuildings at Highreacher's train yard."
"And the Westie raiders?"
"Major Bishop and his Black Cat Mercenary Company caught them before they made it back across the border. None survived. Their commander, a Major Dunwoody, was hanged for war crimes. They left the bodies at the border as a warning to others."
“I'll arrange a meeting with the king. He'll want a full report."
"There’s more, but I might as well wait and tell you and the king at the same time."
"Will you be staying long this time?"
"For a while. There are some things I need to attend and arrangements to make."
Over breakfast, there was the usual small talk on trade, skyships, Alyse and her studies. Our trading house was doing well, better since she had taken over Greenwell's holdings.
"Isla, do you have a weapons master in your employ?" I asked.
"Yes. D&G has one."
"Good, I'd like to meet him."
“Certainly, follow me.” She led me to a training hall behind the house and introduced Weapons Master Gordon.
"How may I serve, M'lord?" he asked, looking me over. He was a middle-aged man with scars on his hand and arms. Most men-at arms-had those same scars.
"I need more training in various fighting styles of men, both armed and unarmed."
"What weapons do you normally fight with?"
Holding my hands up, I extended my claws. “Usually just my hands. Claws, if weapons are drawn."
He nodded. “Shall we spar a bit to give me an idea of what you can do? No claws."
"Let me change into my kilt."
Isla turned her back, and I took my clothes off and donned the kilt. I stepped over to the sand pot, and Isla took a seat.
Gordon entered the sand pit. "Ready?"
I nodded.
He started slowly to test me, increasing the pressure quickly. I had no trouble matching him. Honestly, I could have beaten him at any time. He stepped back, breathing a little harder.
"I'll shift to knives; you stay empty handed."
He took up two wooden training knives, and we started again. He was a little more challenging, touching me a few times, but again I could have ended it anytime.
Master Gordon stopped. "You're holding back, aren't you?"
I smiled and said, “A bit.”
“Let’s go hard, no claws," and then he lunged at me. Slapping his knife hand up, I went under the lunge. Then, I scraped his inner thigh as if clawing his femoral artery. Going behind him, my other hand came around his neck and pretended to tear his throat out. I stepped away.
He laughed. "Well done, I'm dead, twice, M'lord. I would not even begin to fight you. I'd just shoot you and be done with it."
"That is why I need to train. I need to learn every dirty, underhanded, tricky fighting style I may face."
"Then you don't need me. You are beyond mine, but I may know a man. He fights dirty; he cheats; he fights to win, anyway he can. I think he may be what you're looking for. But I must warn you, he's a strange one. He’s sailed all over the world and fought in every port he's every been too.’
"That sounds exactly like what I'm looking for.”
"I'll send him a message and see when we can meet."
I bowed. "Thank you, Weapons Master."
He returned my bow. "Thank you, M'lord."
I changed back into my clothes, and we left the training hall.
"You are extremely quick," Isla said.
“Even among cats I am considered quick. But I cannot always depend on that to save me. Someday, I may meet a man who has fought cats before, and as the weapons master pointed out, he may shoot first."
When we entered the house, a servant handed Isla a note.
As she read, her brow furrowed. "Bring the carriage around. We leave as soon as it's ready."
The servant bowed, then hurried away.
Isla looked at me. "We are to meet with King Micha. He will see us as soon as we arrive."
"I'll get cleaned up," I said, and hurried to my apartments. After a quick wipe-off bath and putting on my ‘Baron’ clothes, I was back in the entry hall, where Isla was waiting. The carriage arrived, and we were quickly at the palace. Using a side door for family, Isla led the way, straight back to King Micha’s private office. The king sat behind his desk reading something, reports maybe. We bowed.
"Good afternoon, Sire," Isla said.
"Good afternoon.” He came around the desk, hugged Isla and shook my hand. “It’s good to see you again so soon."
"I wish it were not under these circumstances, Your Highness."
"Sit," he said, pointing to some chairs. I gave him a report on all that happened. He listened, asking few questions. When I told of the killing of Lord and Lady Windford, he began to pace. Continuing on, I reported the hanging of Major Dunwoody and what he said about me being the target.
The king interrupted. “Let me see if I’ve got this straight. Someone sent him and his men to kill you, but did not provide a description. So to ensure that they killed the target—a person whom they could not identify—they indiscriminately began killing as many as they could, including women and children. Is that right?”
"Yes, Sire.
“Unbelievable! Absolutely unbelievable!” He raged. “Glad you hung ‘em all.” He walked over to a cabinet and poured himself a whiskey.
“I had Michael Windford send King Edward a letter that Lord Highreacher had been killed. I'm sure someone will read the letter before he receives it and pass the information back to their masters. Hopefully, that will be the end of attacks on Windford."
"And this Mayor Bishop was your way of telling Edward that you lived, and the western border was secured."
"Yes, Highness. In a few weeks or a month, I'II give him a full report in person."
"I'm sorry for the loss of your friends, Cam."
"Thank you, Highness."
"So, what are your plans now?" he asked.
"Well, if they thought I was a thorn in their side before, they haven’t seen anything yet."
"Good. Find who was
responsible for the massacre at the Windford Estate and kill them."
"Lord and Lady Windford were killed for no other reason than being my friends. The northern leadership, no doubt, ordered the Westies to carry out the attack. Had they only attacked me or military targets, I would not have taken it so personally. As it is, I owe them both a blood debt. I will cause havoc and mayhem in their kingdoms. Then I'll kill them."
"Thank you for bringing us this information."
I took this as my dismissal, bowed and left his office. I waited down the hall for Isla to come out. When did, she was smiling.
"I'm in trouble. Aren't I?"
"Why would you say that?"
"Because you are smiling, and dare I say it, like the cat who ate the canary."
That made her laugh. "I'll have to show you,” she answered.
We took the carriage to the military skyship yard and continued to a less used area. Stopping in front of a hanger, we went inside. Workmen were repairing a skyship while guards stood watch. I expected to see a skyship; this wasn't one.
"What do you think?" she asked. I didn't say anything. I just stared at it. It looked like a flat-bottomed barge, with large sausages under outstretched arms. The arms curled partly around the sausages holding them in place. There was what looked like a wide longhouse built down the center of the top deck. "It's a junk," Isla said.
"It looks it."
She chuckled. "It’s not ‘junk’. They call this skyship design 'a junk'. It's quite unique."
"I agree completely, unique junk."
"We captured her after she crashed landed. She had been in a fight, during a storm. Most but not all of her crew were killed. I know she looks, well, like junk, but she has some interesting capabilities. Let's go aboard and have a look around."
Onboard, I noticed repairs that weren’t complete. We went inside what looked to be the longhouse, which was exactly what it was. The front part was the crew's bay, where the roof and deck slid open to load cargo into the hold. The middle held the galley, while the rear was the captain’s quarters. The outside may look like junk, but the inside was anything but.
There were sliding walls that could be opened and closed to form divided compartments. From the walls, the crews’ beds folded down like rows shelves with mattresses. During the day, the beds were folded back up and out of the way. The bay also doubled as the dining area. The galley was larger than I expected with plenty of room to make full meals. The captain’s quarters were as nice as any home I'd ever seen. There was a separate sleeping room and privy. The back wall slid open onto a small rear deck for fresh air.
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