The Lion of Ackbarr

by Erme Lander

  At the end, Marta whispered for them to go. Mika nearly protested, the merchant had food, good wine. Marta shook her head, “Leave now, people at home will miss us otherwise.”

  They escaped into the night air. Marta chuckled as they walked, “I believe I’m enjoying this almost as much as you are.”

  “I’m not sure if I enjoyed it.” She flushed again, remembering his stare.

  “He certainly noticed you. Now we need to keep him noticing.”

  They went to several concerts, Mika had a list in her room. Marta made the decisions. Not this one – too close to the last performance, we’ll do this one instead. Ezra watched from the back as he played, growing larger in her vision until it felt as though he leaned towards her, playing only for themselves. She didn’t need to act her shyness as he began to smile when he saw her in the audience. The mischief in his eye as he caught hers and the cant of his head as he played filled her dreams, pushing aside those of the jungle.

  He finally caught them about to leave one evening. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced?” His question was directed at Marta, Mika was the one he gazed at. He was only a few years older than her, five at the most she’d heard. Born into a lower ranking family, his talent had caught the attention of a childless noble. He’d had everything bestowed on him and it showed. His confidence bordered on arrogance, suddenly she felt like slapping him. The assumption that she wanted his attentions.

  Marta caught Mika’s look and smiled, “No, I don’t believe we have.” Mika’s gaze was icy as Marta introduced them.

  His manners immediately became perfect, “May I offer you a drink?”

  “Thank you, we were just leaving,” Mika snapped. His reply was interrupted by the host attempting to introduce him to other nobles. Mika turned with the pretence of not seeing his look of frustration. Marta gave him an indulgent smile as they left.

  She laughed as they walked into the alley. “Well done Mika. Was that real or feigned?”

  “I just couldn’t believe it, he’s so full of himself.” Mika was sputtering, she wasn’t sure why he’d upset her so much.

  “Well, you’ve got his attention which is what you wanted. He’ll come back to find out more.” Mika snorted.

  Chapter 17

  Mika sneaked out of the city gates several times a week. She’d become more friendly with the guardsmen over time, bringing treats and chatting to them about their various wives and mistresses. She learnt their rotas, finding out which guards were more picky about letting people in or out.

  She had no idea of what happened while she was changed, she only knew she was dangerous. If Belindros was correct then she should be a cat and the prints seemed to indicate it. She’d bought a bone with her this time, wondering if it would help distract her conscious mind. She stripped and lay close, smelling it and following the tickling sensation over her skin. It was a subconscious thing. Mika had learnt how the sensation changed and stopped if she paid too much attention. The bone was nearly touching her face, the iron smell of blood filled her nostrils. Without being fully aware, she flicked her tongue out and tasted. She bared her teeth, waited for the stretch, the rippling into unconsciousness as she stopped being Mika and became something else.

  Slowly as the weeks passed the change became more fluid. Sometimes it was stronger, especially after she’d seen Jace. At these times she made the decision to fight the urge, realising she had to control herself. She started to make a note of them in her head and realised that after a stressful day, the dreams were stronger. She took care of herself, not allowing herself to be upset by anything. She began to get a reputation for calmness, both in the classroom and at the hospital. With a shock she remembered how her mother had always been calm and found herself wondering how her mother would have dealt with changing like Mika did.

  She practised at her control, unaware it was having other effects on her. Small signs from the patients she attended, the sheen of sweat, dilation of eyes and muscle tics became obvious, helping with diagnosis. She became smoother in her fighting with Gavin and her instructors, noticing the little changes in how they flexed and shifted, anticipating moves before they happened. Her reactions became smoother as every muscle in her body reached optimal performance. Other people, on seeing her fight, remarked quietly that she was moving more like the King’s Advisor these days and they wondered what would the outcome be if they ever met. They speculated if it was a Cassai trait. None dared mention it within Jace’s hearing.

  Ezra’s image continued to flick into her brain at inconvenient moments. She’d swear to herself, disliking the hold he had over her. For an entire week she refused to think about going to any more concerts despite Marta’s encouragement. When Mika gave in and went, Ezra’s eyes fastened onto Mika immediately, barely leaving her.

  During the interval, Marta left to get drinks. Mika was pondering the sweet nibbles on the table when a voice said, “These ones are remarkably nice.”

  She looked up to find Ezra blocking her way. He held a plate out, tiny pastries that happened to be her favourites. Mika shook her head, suddenly not hungry. She had no way of removing herself, a group stood behind them and he’d effectively pinned her into the space next to the table.

  His instrument was slung over his back and his eyes were warm as they tried to peer into hers. Flirting with girls was easy, this was different, abruptly she didn’t need to act coy. She’d been too young to do much flirting with her brother’s friends. A sweetly stolen kiss, an admiring comment had been all she’d had. Chaperoned by her brother’s scornful tongue, his friends hadn’t taken advantage. With Alma, she’d giggled over various lads of their own age. There’d been no courtship with Rylan. She now had an interested man in front of her and she didn’t know what to do with him.

  Sensing her confusion, he asked “Did you enjoy the performance?”

  “Yes.”

  “At least you seem to be listening, unlike most.” His voice was pitched for them only. She looked up, startled. He shrugged with a disgusted look on his face, “Most are simply here to be seen. I could be playing ‘Johnny jingles his dangles’ in the nude for all they’d notice.” She smothered a giggle, as Mikon she knew all ten verses, much to the delight of Jon.

  He smiled back, eyes catching hers again. A warmth flared between them and she flushed. A disturbance to the side, Marta had arrived with the drinks and Ezra retreated into his polite self, enquiring after Marta’s health and enjoyment. Mika sat and listened to the second performance, oblivious to the world as Ezra played to her in the audience.

  Through the weeks he became more insistent, wanting to know where she lived, what her father did. She blocked his questions, frustrated that she had no easy answers. Marta conveniently disappeared for them to talk each time, but she still despaired over how to take it further. She couldn’t keep lying. People began to notice his interest, watching her out the corner of their eyes through the performance, wanting to listen in to their conversation and asking her questions afterwards. One evening he pushed a piece of paper into her hand while greeting her. She tucked it into her sleeve pocket for later.

  She read it in her room, she hadn’t been brave enough to tell Marta. He wanted to meet in the park, he was free and would wait over the next few nights. She knew she’d be safe. She’d seen couples strolling there in the summer and autumn, chaperoned by the sheer number of people.

  Mika thought all day, changing her mind a dozen times and then gave up. She liked him, he was arrogant about his playing, but he had a right to be. His looks, well, he was no more arrogant about them than her brother. The amount of times she’d caught her brother checking himself in the mirror before talking to this girl or that. She sniggered at the memories of foiling his advances. The bucket of cold water had worked beautifully, carefully aimed to only soak him, not the girl. He’d been furious with her for days after that one. She sighed, wondering what his reaction would be to Ezra, then shook her head and went to find Marta to ask about using her r
ooms.

  “You will have to tell him who you are at some point,” Marta warned.

  “Yes, but not tonight, will you help?”

  Jon was delighted to help, subterfuge was something he loved. They disappeared out together through the main gate, Mika knocking on Marta’s outside door five minutes later. Jon, dressed in old clothes kept an eye out as she walked quickly away in her dresses.

  At the park she walked alone for a while and several young men stopped to ask if she had a partner for the evening. She shook her head each time, stomach tight with nerves. Eventually she took the plunge and walked to the area where Ezra had said he would meet her. She saw him first, eyes narrowed and his own face unguarded for once, as he watched the people walk by. He spotted her a moment later and a huge smile lit his face. He took her hand, tucking it into his elbow like the rest of the couples.

  They spent the evening talking, Ezra kept the conversation light, sharing pastries. He offered to walk her home, laughing ruefully when she refused. She couldn’t let him find out where she lived. He kissed her fingers and asked to see her again the next evening. Mika shook her head, not wanting to say that she had fighting practice with Gavin and they agreed on the evening after.

  Jon joined her on the way back, saying Ezra had made no attempt to follow, just watched her walk away. Jon made the appropriate mooning faces, rolling his eyes and simpering until she pushed him away and told him to check the door to Marta’s house.

  Mika stopped going to the performances, Marta agreed with reluctance. People had been noticing Ezra staring, she couldn’t risk the curiosity, although she missed his playing. She started to hint to him that she wasn’t what she seemed and he followed her trail of thought with fascination. He seemed content to seduce her with his eyes, did nothing else that was outside the bounds of propriety in public and yet that made her flush, much to his enjoyment. She sensed he was enjoying the chase as much as she was enjoying being chased. A restless urge began, with her starting to tease him as much as he did.

  One evening they were sitting on a low wall, in sight of people but away from them. “You know I am not from Ackbarr.”

  “Yes, you’ve said.” His eyes teased her. “A lady of mystery, I like it.”

  She took a deep breath, “I’m wearing a wig.”

  He pretended shock. “Are you going to show me what you look like without it? Am I going to hate your real hair? Don’t tell me you don’t have any hair underneath it.” His barrage of questions were accompanied by a grin, he didn’t care and she knew it.

  “The reason why I’ve not let you walk me back home is because I’m pretending to be a boy there. They don’t know I’m a girl.”

  That did silence him. He stared at the people walking by and eventually asked, “Why?”

  “My prospects weren’t good as a girl. No male relations to look after me. I was taken on by my current master as a boy and I’ve not had the chance to do anything about it.” She added defensively, “Besides, I like learning, I can’t do that as a girl.” She watched him anxiously, trying to work out his reaction.

  “I take it Marta isn’t your aunt?”

  “No.”

  He seemed calm. “I’ve seen feisty noble girls doing pretty much what they want. Why shouldn’t you?”

  “You don’t mind?” She abruptly realised she was putting herself into his hands, he could choose to tell the authorities. What would she do to keep in his good books, how far would she go to stop him? If enough people knew, even Belindros wouldn’t be able to protect her.

  He grinned and suppressed the movement that said he wanted to sweep her into his arms, “Do I mind? Great gods, you’ve got more balls than half the nobility!” His eyes flashed with pride. Mika couldn’t believe it, her brother would approve of this man and so would her father. She ducked her head, hiding the tears. He mistook the reason and tucked a finger under her chin, lifting it. “You don’t need to worry about me telling anyone. If anyone finds out, then I’ll take you away. We’ll deal with it.”

  She blinked as he raised her fingers to his lips, the only gesture he was allowed in public. “Come to my place tomorrow? I’d love to see you without the wig. Come in your boy clothes if it’s easier. Which master are you apprenticed to?”

  “Belindros.”

  “The Medici?” His face was impressed, “He’s supposed to be a hard taskmaster. I’ve met him several times.” She shrugged and he laughed, “Now I can believe you are pretending to be a boy.” Other couples began to drift closer and he stood, proudly tucking her hand into his elbow. She tugged at his shoulder, “I can’t come tomorrow.”

  “Why?”

  She looked embarrassed, “I have lessons tomorrow night.”

  “He keeps you working during the evening? What sort of lessons?”

  “Um, combat.” She felt herself flushing as he regarded her with disbelief.

  “What sort of combat?

  “Fencing mostly.”

  He shook his head, “I’m going to have to get used to this. The night after then?” He bent towards her with a grin and whispered, “I’ll have pastries.” He knew her weakness for the crisp pastries full of nuts and honey. She nodded, laughing.

  She slid out the courtyard gates with Jon to guide her. Ezra had given his address, a place closer to the walls of the city. It was rundown, but clean. Washing hung out on the dark stone balconies. Everything was stone in Ackbarr. Mika was suddenly homesick for the green leafy depths of Cassai, the clean smells of the trees and the rough whitewashed walls of her parent’s home. She shook herself as Jon skipped away, she knew he was looking forward to an evening with old friends. She didn’t want to know what else he’d get up to.

  Ezra peered down from a second storey balcony and yelled his delight. She was greeted as a mate, slapped on the back and pulled upstairs. He slammed the door shut and stood inches away, inspecting her. “You look like a boy.”

  She huffed at him, “What did you expect?”

  “Is that your real hair?”

  “Not entirely, mine’s darker.” He touched it gently, brushing his fingers through and noticed her flinch.

  “What is it?”

  “Nothing.” Despite her best efforts, images of Rylan had risen. A man’s hands on her, owning her and hurting. Her throat swelled tight.

  “What’s the matter?”

  Tears filled her eyes, she turned away, “I’m sorry.”

  “No. I want to know. Tell me. Whatever it is.” He had hold of her arms and was trying to get her to look at him. She could tell he was trying to keep his hands gentle, the terror still rose. He was stronger, he could hurt.

  “Please don’t.”

  “Tell me.” His voice was a whisper.

  She stumbled through the marriage, not wanting to give too much detail. Trying not to cry, the dam was holding the tears back, but only just. She said she’d run away, not wanting to explain about waking to find Rylan dead in their bed. Her voice was dry as his hands rubbed her arms and he listened. She stopped, unable to speak further.

  “Bastard.” His voice was matter of fact.

  She looked up, startled. “He was young, he didn’t know.”

  “No excuse for not thinking. You’re smaller than him. Stands to reason you’re more delicate. I was never like that.” His fingers brushed her hair again. “It’s not like that. Some people never discover it.”

  He gently pulled her into his arms and held her. She stayed there, stiff, breathing into his shoulder and something broke. Her knees gave way as she cried for herself, her lost baby, the strange changing she’d had to deal with and every lack she’d had over the past months. He picked her up awkwardly and sat on the bed, still cradling her and allowed her to cry herself out. Eventually she stopped and peered at him.

  “Better now?”

  Sniffing, she nearly punched him, he had a smug look on his face. She stood to get away from his disturbing closeness. “I must look a mess.”

  “Yep.” He sprawled bac
k onto his bed, feet mussing the covers. “Still look gorgeous though, I prefer you without the wig. Are you Cassai stock?”

  Mika nodded and looked around his room to distract herself. Clothes were slung on the chairs, caught up in the chest lid, food on the table, plates waiting to be washed. Music was scattered in piles on the table, falling onto the floor, replacement strings uncoiling and his music case tucked carefully on a shelf. She wiped her face on her sleeve, “This place is a mess.”

  “Must be a woman.” He laughed as she flung a shirt at him, “Hey, that one’s clean...” he sniffed it and pulled a face, “...ish.”

  Any evenings became precious to Mika as they began to meet more regularly. She made excuses for going out, so she could spend her time with Ezra. Being part of the royal household, he had performances and other demands on his time at the whim of the nobility. Jon complained in private that she was mooning after him. He’d met Ezra and approved in his strangely adult way. Mika was pleased, she had so few friends who knew her real sex, it was important they got on.

  There were times when she came dressed as a woman and others in her boy’s clothes. Ezra was delighted by the contrast in her behaviour. She was simply amazed no one clicked that she was one and the same, people looked at clothes, not what was underneath.

  She took Ezra to the menagerie, she’d found that her Medici robes were enough to get them in. They passed Jace several times and she made a point of larking about, being more of a boy in his presence. Ezra caught on immediately, though asked her why afterwards. Mika shook her head, unable to explain her antipathy to Jace.

  Mika leaned against the fence separating them from the cats and stared at them with the rest of the crowd. The cats turned to watch her, eyes slitted. She tried to reach out to them with her mind and felt as though she was grasping empty air. She wondered how Jace managed. Her command of herself was becoming more consistent these days. She spent the times when Ezra was performing, practising her own changing, twisting herself through and back. Attempting to remember her time while changed and trying to stop the change halfway through was difficult. The cat within her resisted, but remembering Jace she kept on. She’d become more skilled, able to change at will.