The Chicago
"How many tonight, M’m?"
the little scullery-maid asked timorously. "Will there be enough, now
we’ve got a full house an’all?"
Mrs O’Leary checked the various pans
on the big range. "Oh, for sure. Ah, the kedgeree smells good. That's as
well – Her Holiness will be dining with
us tonight.."
“Her Holiness?" Nellie tasted
the soup, frowned, and added a pinch of pepper. "The new guest?"
"Yes, both of them, Her and her
friend." Katie gave a satisfied smile. "Her Holiness will certainly
be joining us for supper. Very partial to my kedgeree is Her Holiness. Said so
herself to me. ‘Your dish of eggs, fish and grains is most pleasing, hostess.’
Just as if she was anybody.”
Molly shouldered past with an armful
of napery, and sniffed. "Holiness! Got no right to be givin' herself airs
like she was the Pope or somethin'. All fur coat and no knickers, as my mum
used to say."
"Daft besom!" And Molly
collected a clip around the ear from her exasperated employer. "Cats don't
wear knickers!"
"Well, I know that, don't I!”
“She’s a lady, and she’s paying.
Just you remember that, my girl!”
“She’s a picky madam, that’s for
sure!”
"Has she decided where she's
having 'em yet, the poppet?" Nellie asked idly. "It'll be nice to
have some little ones about again..."
"Underfoot everywhere, most
like," Molly snorted. “Any other cat would be happy with a cardboard
carton with an old towel in it -- more than happy, but she -- nothing would
suit but I clear out the warming closet when she decided that was where she
wanted to have her kittens, into the bargain..."
"She's paying,” Katie O’Leary
repeated shortly, “and that buys her the right to have 'em in your bed if she
wants, my girl!"
The newest guest was ensconced
beside the fire, curled on a large, rather faded blue velvet cushion with her
companion sitting straight and tall beside her. He was a big grey tabby -- she
a delicate creature with shimmering golden fur and pale jade eyes. She was also
heavily pregnant, her sleek sides bulging with her unborn young.
"I am grateful for your
hospitality, madam." Her voice was a soft purr, slightly accented,
cultured. She regarded the assembly with
an interest that could only be described as regal. "I understand it is
your custom to hear the stories of the guests."
"Indeed, and as yourself is our
most recent guest, we are anxious for you to recount your tale and that of your
companion,” Katie said politely, and collected nods of agreement from the
others.
"Then I must be his voice, as
he does not speak your language. Let me introduce myself. I am Y'yrowryr, Crown
Princess of the Nine Systems -- or I was. Now, since my dam the Empress is
surely dead, I am myself Empress and Goddess-on-Earth... Here now is my story.”
Life on the palace-world had been
sweet, most especially for the newly-mated Crown Princess. She had duties, as
did all the Imperial Family, but she fulfilled them with an ease and charm that
made her one of the most beloved of royalty. As her mother proudly said “When her time comes to rule, Y’yrowryr will
govern with a velvet paw.”
“May she never need to show the claw
within,” her sire muttered. Consort to
the Empress, and War Lord, he was
golden-furred as she was, though with a longer coat and strong and elegant bars
ringing limbs and tail. He was distracted now, pacing, and the Empress regarded
him with concern.
“Light of my eyes, what troubles
you?”
“The embassy from the Szarjiou.” He
growled softly, his tail lashing. “The Council say we should listen to them
when they speak of wanting only trading rights on our worlds. But I smell
deceit, Lady. Our intelligence tells of terrible conditions on their
home-worlds – overcrowding, for they breed without restraint – and food
shortages, and worse. Let them gain but a clawhold, and they will expand into
the Nine Systems, and they are many – many.”
“Have you told the Council so?”
“They know it. But the embassy speak
sweet words, and offer terms. Only I, and Aahmonra the Prince, stand against
the Council. But we are warriors both, not diplomats. Maybe we see danger where
there is none.”
The Empress rose, and crossed to
touch his nose tenderly with hers. “I would trust your instincts over a
thousand councilors. What do you advise, Beloved?”
“We must prepare for war, Lady. Once
we refuse the Szarjiou their trading privileges, they will seek another way to
colonise. We cannot allow them any advantage.”
The Empress licked thoughtfully at
her forepaw. “I hesitate to speak any word that will result in the death of
even one of my people…”
“Say then we shall prepare to defend
ourselves against invasion.“
“So be it,” she agreed. “Make what
preparations you will. And I will pray to the Goddess that they are never
needed. Most especially now, with our daughter and heir newly in-kitten.” She
purred at the thought, and he abandoned his martial stance to rest his head
against hers, understanding and sharing her concern. The continued health and
safety of the young Princess was doubly important now…
“I will find her a haven, should the
worst happen,” he vowed. “There are worlds found by our exploring ancestors on
their voyages of discovery, places where they sent colonies which thrived.
Though by now they may remember us only as distant legends, still they will
recognize her as kin, and cherish her.”
“Their hopes for peace with our
ancient hereditary enemy were in vain. Our peace on our palace-world was rudely
shattered …”
The young officer of the guard broke
in, panting, his fur torn and bloodied. “Lady, Lord, we cannot hold them! They
are too many!”
The Empress drew herself up, her fur
bushed until every hair stood proud, all twelve of her front claws at full
extension. “Daughter – Prince – go! All is prepared – my blessing on you both!”
“But Empress-Mother – to leave you in such danger---“
Aahmonra wailed, his warrior-spirit engaged.
“Protect my daughter!” she snarled, and struck at him
– he flinched, but took the blow.
“With my life, Lady!” he swore, and summoned the
bodyguard to surround the Princess and hurry her out of the private chambers
and down the corridor towards the launch-port. Terrified, her ears flat and her
eyes wide with fright, she allowed them to almost carry her along, Aahmonra as
rearguard, howling in fury as the enemy began to overrun the Palace, killing
them as they pounced with single blows of his paws. She glimpsed them – grey-
and brown- and black-furred, sinuous and sharp-muzzled creatures with long
naked tails, their beady black eyes rapacious. If she fell to them, she knew,
she and her unborn kits would be consumed without mercy.
Two of the guard fell even as Aahmonra triggered the
mechanism that opened the shuttle-pod, and lifted her within. But instead of
joining her in the cushioned interior, he turned back, his eyes brilliant with
rage.
“Beloved..!” she wailed, and he turned to her for a
moment, his spread of whiskers, so wide and handsome, quivering.
“My heart in your paws, always,” he whispered,
nuzzling her so that their whiskers twined. “Go well, my lady and my love.”
Her last sight, as the door sighed closed, was of him
standing with his back to the pod, the fur along his spine raised in the crest
of battle, ready to defend her escape with his life.
“I remember little of the launch, or of the journey,
for the shuttle-pod was programmed to place its occupants in stasis for the
duration. It was as well, for I think my grief might have been my end. As it
was, when I was finally roused by my craft entering your atmosphere, I longed
only to return to home, if it was to join my family in death.”
“Do not think so, Lady!” It was
Campet, spreading his thirty claws. “We have a saying – ‘Better a live dog,’
(saving your presence!) ‘ than a dead lion.”
She emerged from the gently rocking
capsule into a watery waste, grey overcast skies reflecting the choppy grey of
the lake surface. Like all her kind, she could swim, although she preferred not
to -- now she had no option, for the
little craft was already sinking. She struck out for the distant shore, the
cold at first defeated by the thickness of her fur, but slowly and insidiously
penetrating. By the time she felt solid ground underfoot, she was sodden to the
skin, and very afraid for the health of her unborn kits. She must get dry and
warm very quickly, or the hope of her people and her world would die within
her.
Grasses and scrub offered shelter,
and she found a small hollow where she could curl out of the wind and work to
dry and clean her fur. It took time, but at last her shivering eased, and she
was able to relax, tail over her nose, and sleep a little. She could not think
of what lay behind her. The grief was too raw.
She awoke when a thin and feeble sun
warmed her fur, and a voice demanded her business. It was in a dialect and an accent
she could barely understand, but it held certain similarities to the spoken
tongue of her own world. Her sire had been right, and her kind had come here in
the dawn of their history! She uncurled, sat up, and stretched, announcing
herself with the instinctive grace of her movements, the slightest angling of
ear and whisker, the gentle twitch of tail tip.
“I am Yyrowryr. Who speaks?”
“A she, and in kitten,” the other
said coarsely, ignoring the courtesies. She repeated her actions, but found
them ignored, and decided to use vocalisation.
“I am Yyrowryr. Who asks?”
“Don't matter. You don't belong
here. Our place, our territory. Can't you smell that?”
There was a rank scent in the air,
and she realised it came from the other cats, for there were several ringing
her. Males. By feline convention, she should be safe, untouchable, being in-kitten,
but she knew instinctively she was in danger. These males might not kill her,
but they could injure her.
“Then I will go,” she offered, with
the gestures of formal apology. The leader male, a scarred black and white
creature, hissed.
“None of that fancy posturing, she.
You come on our turf, you pay toll. You can't pay, then maybe we take it out of
your pretty hide.”
She tensed, hunkering down, ears
flat. She would fight if she had to -- she had been well-trained by her sire --
but her kits moved within her, and she dared not risk them. As the males
circled her, she prepared to sell her life dearly--
“Back off,” said another voice, and
it was both stronger and more cultured that that of the others. “She's in kitten.
You know the code. You can't touch her.”
“Hhwarll...”
The circle parted, and a big
greybrown tabby stalked forward.
"She yours, then? Didn't think
you had a mate.”
“What's it to you?” A disdainful
flip of the tail. "I say back off and let her be. Or do you want a lesson
in manners? I can oblige.”
“Aw, we was just funnin'...” They
slunk away into the scrub.
Wide-eyed, but still ready to run or
fight, she looked at her rescuer. “My thanks...”
“It is nothing, Princess.” He bowed
his head. “I rejoice that I found you before harm was done. These others --
they are younglings, ignorant, and I ask your pardon for them.”
“It is granted,” she said
automatically, a little dazed. “You know me?”
“It was prophesied that you would
come, Lady. Long ago, in the Two Lands, when our kind were the companions and
advisers of princes, it was known that some day She would send one to Her
people. We have waited many years, but we have never forgotten. You wear Her
sign.” And he looked with reverence at the golden pectoral she wore, sign of
her rank and blood, almost hidden in the thickness of her fur. The
strengthening sun picked out the gleam of it.
Great
Goddess, Mother of All , I thank you. She closed her eyes in relief. “May I know your name, gentle friend?”
“Hhwarrll, if it please you, Lady.
Have you hunger?” He brought her a fresh-killed rodent, and sat a little way
off in politeness as she ate. She found that she was ravenous, and it was all
she could do not to bolt the creature down like the lowliest starving feline.
When she was through, she saw that he had not himself eaten, but had caught a
fish, which still flapped tantalizingly under her nose.
“Please, my friend, take at least a
portion of this for yourself.”
He bent his head in acquiescence,
drawing a claw neatly down the spine to divide it, and, leaving her the larger
piece, took his share to one side to eat. But Yyrowryr was stunned immobile with pity, for she had
seen his paws and realized with horror that he was mutilated, lacking a claw on each
forefoot. He did not seem disadvantaged by the lack -- he had obviously learned
to compensate -- and it would be the height of rudeness to mention it. She
covered her confusion by eating quickly and then washing every trace of her
meal from her face and muzzle.
"You cannot stay here,
Princess. We must find you a safe and secure place to deliver your kits."
She knew he spoke rightly, but with
her belly full and warm, and her new protector nearby, she only wished to
sleep. "Lady?" he repeated, more insistently. "I know a
place."
It seemed they walked daylong, then
from sunset to sunrise, and again to sunset, from the scrub of the shoreline through
the beginning of scattered buildings to a densely populated area, hard paved
underpaw, thick with alien smells and noises. He found food for them both, and
twice drove off other cats, once even defended her against a huge and shaggy
barking thing that he said after was a ‘dog’.
But at last, she stopped in her tracks, dizzy with weariness, her
pawpads raw. “I can go no further…” she panted.
Hhwarrll nudged her with his nose,
smelling that she spoke truth. “Rest here, then, Princess. I will bring help.”
She lay down, uncaring that the
place was filthy and stinking. Her kits moved strongly within her. I am sorry, little ones, she thought to
them, but I must rest unless I bring you
forth untimely.
Sleep,
then, Mother, they purred
within her, and she found the strength to purr softly in response before she
closed her eyes and slept.
“Which was when we found you,” said Campet,
the six-legged one, stretching his middle set of legs and admiring his claws.
“It was indeed fortunate that Hhwarrll and I are acquainted, or he would have
been unable to explain the urgency of his errand to our good hostess.”
“Indeed, sir,” she acknowledged. “I
am most grateful.”
If cats could blush, he would have
blushed. As it was, he flicked his tail and harrumphed a disclaimer.
She had roused to gentle licking,
the long tongue strokes of a parent to a kit, or of mate to mate, and drowsily
purred her pleasure. For a moment it seemed to her that she lay on the feather-soft
cushions of the sunning-place in the herb-of-joy garden of the Summer Palace
“Princess, hush. You are safe…”
“Oh, my mate, my dam, my sire – oh,
my lost worlds…” she keened, mewing piteously, and Hhwarrll licked at her
breast and throat until she had cried herself out and lay limp.
“Poor little mite,” said a voice,
and Hhwarrll said quickly “This is our hostess, Princess, the human
Kaatioleeri. She offers you safe shelter and a place to bear the Royal
kittens.”
Noblesse
oblige had been trained into her since she suckled blindly at her dam’s
teats. She raised her head, seeing kind eyes in a round pink furless face bent
over her, with odd wrappings of fabric around its body and limbs. “Madam,” she
said faintly, “I thank you.” Once she could have offered a suitable gift of
some kind, but now all she had was the pectoral, which was mere ornament and
worthless. “Please, accept this small token. Hhwarrll, if you would help me…”
She did not flinch from the touch of his poor five-clawed paws, which she
realized now were a natural deformity to the cats of this world.
The eyes widened as the heavy
gold-and-gemstudded thing emerged from her fur. “Oh. Oh my. Goodness. This is –
this is –“
“It is little enough for your
kindness.”
“Well. To be sure. I hope your
Highness will be comfortable here. If there is anything you need…”
The creature bustled out, not asking
leave, but then, this was not the Royal
Court
Hhwarrll resumed his grooming of her
fur. “One of the others here is a friend of mine,” he said. “They call him
Campet, though I am sure he will introduce himself properly in due course. It
was he who sent the herb, as a gift...”
“I must thank him.”
“When you are stronger. There is a
dish of milk here, and cooked fowl. Eat!”
She found the strength to laugh. “If
you will eat with me, my Champion and Saviour!”
“I am not worthy,” he demurred.
Then, for the first time in her life, Yyrowryr felt the touch of the Goddess
and knew herself divinely inspired.
“You shall not say so!” She sat straight, in the hieratic position
she had so often seen her own mother adopt when she embodied the Divine Feline.
“I, Yyrowryr, of the Nine Systems, in recognition of your bravery, appoint you
Royal Champion -- and Consort,” she
added. “For both honours, you are most worthy, Hhwarrll of---“ She hesitated.
“What country, sir, is this?”
“It is Ameeerkaa, Lady. And this
city is Shhhkago”
“Hhwarrl of Shhkago.” She twined
whiskers with him in formality, so that they scent-marked each to each. “Be
known here in Ameeerkaa and in all the Systems as Champion and most beloved
Consort of Yyrowryr, Empress and Goddess. I have spoken.” She turned jade-green
eyes on him. “I can never go home. If the Goddess is good, and I bear my kits
safely, then in due time I will come into my season. Will you be my mate when
that time comes, dear friend? Shall I bear your kittens to be as loyal to their
siblings as you have proved to me?”
He bent his head to kiss her paws,
overcome. “As I would give my life in defence of yours, so will they protect
and defend your Royal line. This I swear.”
She gave him a lick of pure
affection, purring. “Your word is enough.”
Then, her eyes
slitted in amusement, “And that milk and fowl smells wonderful!”
Katie preened in the mirror, turning
this way and that, admiring the look of the gold necklace the little cat had
given her around her own neck. “Oh, Auntie,” Nellie breathed, eyes wide, “that
looks just beautiful, so it does, with the green stones and all the pearls and
all…”
Her aunt snorted. “But are they
real, that’s the important thing.”
“If they’re paste, Auntie, might I
have it? I’ll give you the money for the poor pregnant kitty’s keep out of my
allowance…”
Katie gave her a hug. “You would
too, you soft ay’porth… If it’s paste, it’s yours, but let’s have that nice Mr.
Cohen have a look at it first..”
Wearing her second-best hat with the
cherries on it and her fox-fur tippet, Katie sallied downtown to her local
pawnbroker. Who spent a long time examining it in minute detail with his
jeweller’s loupe, and humming thoughtfully under his breath.
“Who did you say this belongs to?”
he asked at last.
“I didn’t,” Katie said indignantly.
“A young lady down on her luck, as it happens. Needs funds. It’s been in her
family forever.”
“Well, I’m not calling your young
lady a liar, but this ain’t an antique. It’s gold, right enough, though there’s
no mark that I can see – and these are genuine stones – I’d like to know who
designed it. Looks vaguely Egyptian, but with overtones of modern ideas in the
way the stones are set. There’s some very nice jade here, and tourmaline, and emerald… And I don’t know
what these are, but at a guess they’re green diamonds, and I don’t think the
Egyptians had diamonds of this quality… The gold is very high karat, or I miss
my guess. Be a shame to break this up. I think I can find a buyer for it as it
is. “ He squinted around the eyeglass. “You swear it’s not hot?”
Katie’s bosom swelled until her
corsets creaked as she inhaled in indignation again. “She’s honest as the day
is long!”
“Okay, okay, don’t be biting my head
off!” He ran the pectoral through his fingers again, and then named a sum that
made Katie stretch her eyes and lose her breath entirely. “How’d that suit you?
That’s after I’ve taken my ten per cent, of course.”
Katie grabbed at her composure. “I
suppose if that’s the best you can do,” she agreed grudgingly. She went homeward,
a spring in her step that was certainly not entirely justified by the
second-best hat and the fur tippet, and in an excess of joie-de-vivre stopped
in at a five-and-dime to buy Nellie a string of beads in compensation…
“Would Your Holiness like a cool dish of cream to soothe your throat?”
Katie wanted to know. She guessed that the poor creature had not talked so much
in a long time.
“That would be most kind, hostess,”
the little cat said. “Indeed, I am at the end of my story. I have learned much
of your world since I arrived,“ she went on. “It is a young world, and has all
the faults and failings of the young, yet it is alive with new things, ready to
learn and explore, poised for adventure. It may be that the Great Goddess sent
me here for a purpose, so that I and my descendants can resume their
responsibilities as of old, and be companions and advisers here as in your Two
Lands, where we were worshipped as gods. I carry within me a Prince and a
Princess of my ancient and holy and royal line -- when my kits are born, I will
teach them their true history.
"I may never see the Nine
Systems again in this incarnation -- your world is not yet advanced enough to
venture into space -- but one day it will happen... And then, among my
descendants will be born the One who will lead my people home again. And this
shall be the sign -- the kitten will have the Secret of the Sixth Claw..."
She extended a slender forepaw, spreading her toes. In addition to the normal
five toes, she had a sixth, which filled the function of an opposable thumb.
“Your pardon, Holiness,” Campet
said, “but it’s a tough world out there…”
“I know it, sir. And for that
reason, I have taken Hhwarrll as Champion and Consort. He will be the one who
will teach my children and their children to survive..." She paused, and
the tabby tom bent to lick fondly at her head.
"Fancy," Katie murmured. “And
there was me thinking he was just old Tiger, the alleycat we fed on
scraps..." The tabby tom looked at her, and she could have sworn he
smiled.
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