The Way of Things: Upper Kingdom Boxed Set: Books 1, 2 and 3 in the Tails of the Upper Kingdom (38 page)

“No.”

“Is that why you were chosen to the
Council Seat instead of him?”

“No. Yahn Nevye cannot speak to
falcons.”

“What of it?”

“It is the falcons who choose.”

Kirin shook his head, finding it
ironic that seven of the most powerful and influential cats in the Kingdom were
chosen...by birds.

“We are not going back.”

“As you wish.”

The man tried to smile, but the
Captain thought it was a thin smile, the smile of a man struggling to resign
himself to something. Something far deeper than the loss of
Sha’Hadin.
He could not consider it now.

Kerris
looked up from checking one of the horse’s feet.

“Well, if we’re not going back,
then where
are
we going? I mean,
Solomon hasn’t put in an appearance for many nights now. And we can’t navigate
on the maps we made back at the Inn. They are nowhere near accurate.”

Kirin folded his hands behind his
back. “I have an idea.”

All eyes were on him now. He
shouldered their scrutiny well. “Tonight, the Seer and I shall hold
AhmniShakra.”

The
Seer stared at him. “You’re serious.”

“I
am always serious,
sidi.”

“But
you are not gifted. We will only reach the second level. It won’t be enough.”

“It
will have to be.”

“Very
well. Since
I
shall be doing the bulk of the work, you
will
allow
me to prepare? Have ‘the stableboy’ see to my things.”

And without awaiting permission,
Sireth turned, robes swirling, and strode into the massive tower keep.

“You
should not allow that,” growled Ursa, before trudging after her charge.

“I
know,” said the Captain. He too turned and left the rampart for the company of
soldiers.

***

They had dined well that night, as
the Guard did most nights in the battle tower over the tradestown of
Lhahore,
on wild boar and brown rice and quail-egg soup. The atmosphere in this tower
seemed almost animated as if the proximity of the town cast her own busy
reflections up to the Wall itself. As the sun lay her head down, her warm,
golden mane spilt over her clouds and bathed the skies in beauty. From high
above, torches began to spring to life within the town’s dark centre and temple
bells and gongs summoned her people inside for the night.

Fallon
yawned and stretched, reaching her arms high above her head and enjoying every
tweak and twinge of muscle that it brought. She was almost healed, the bruises
from her fall paler and less painful with each passing day and her ankle could
hold her weight for a rather good length of time. She was certain that, between
the Seer’s bamboo staff and the Alchemist’s wraps and remedies, she would be
walking on it in no time.

Quite
casually, she approached the Captain as he stood conferring with the tower
guards.

“Hello.”

He
turned, face stern. “Yes?”

“Um…” It was only then that she
realized her breach of protocol. “Um…”

“Yes,
sidala?”

“Um,
well um, nothing really, I mean, nothing important, it’s just, um...”

His
face grew even more stern.

“Um,
do, do, do you know where Kerris is?”

“He
has gone into town with the Alchemist. She needs more supplies.”

“Oh.
Oh okay. Okay thanks. Sorry if I bothered you. Sorry.”

She back-pedaled out of the chamber
and lay flat against the wall beside the door.

“Oh, mother. What was I thinking?
He’s the Captain of the Guard! And I’m just a skinny little tigress.
‘Scholar
in the Court of the Empress.’
Hah. Who am I fooling? Not me. And certainly
not him. I am utterly, completely hopeless.”

With a deep sigh, she pushed off
and began to wander, knowing that with the approach of darkness, she should
sleep and sleep well for the journey had been long and relentless and showed no
promise of ending. She wasn’t tired however and to her surprise, she had been
holding up rather well. Her stamina had grown each day, and she was delighted
at finding new muscles in her slight, slip of a body. Sometimes, she would even
pretend that she was the Major, a mistress of swords and discipline. Even now
as she walked, she spun on her heel, thrusting and parrying her bamboo staff
and swinging it in a wide arc that would be sure to slice an enemy clean in
two.

She
lost her grip and the staff sailed out of her hand, through an open doorway.

“Ai!”

It
was a dark chamber, lit by only a single earthen oil-lamp in the centre. Before
the lamp, Sireth benAramis sat cross-legged, holding the staff and rubbing his
head.

“Oh!
Oh, sorry, I’m really sorry!”

He
smiled at her.

“Now you have one on me, my dear. I
didn’t see
that
coming.”

She
bustled into the room and flopped down beside him.

“I’m hopeless.”

“Well,
that was a rather good throw, if you ask me.”

“That’s
not what I meant.”

“Ah.
What did you mean, then?”

Her gaze was despondent, her eyes
downcast. “I’m a girl.”

“Ah.”

He nodded and nodded again, not
entirely certain what to say in response.

“Yes,” he said finally. “A girl is what
you are.”

“Yep.
A girl.”

“Yes.”

“Not
a woman.”

“
A
h!
Yes.”

He paused, remembering how Petrus
Mercouri would handle difficult questions with questions. How he had maintained
that people always knew their own answers. They only needed help finding them.

“And why would you say that?”

She
rolled her eyes.

“Well, I will have nineteen summers
this year, and here I am, so far from home, but I have no home, no husband, no
kittens, certainly no kitten-inspired chest. I draw little pictures in my
books. I hear little songs in my head. I entertain little passions on the
Captain’s brother.”

He
opened his mouth to speak, but she wasn’t finished.

“I
can’t use a sword. I can’t make magical potions. I’ve had two horses literally
killed out from under me. I pretend that I’m all smart and knowledgeable and
fine with all this, but deep down, I just want to go home.”

“And
with the notable exception of the Captain’s brother, exactly how does that make
you any different from me?”

She
grinned. “Well,
you
haven’t lost any horses.”

“Good point. And the passions
I
am entertaining would likely see me drawn and quartered if they were ever found
out.”

She
laughed now and he secretly thanked Petrus for his wise, wise ways.

“Give me your hands.”

“My
hands?” Even as she asked, she was giving. “Why?”

The
touch of her fingers made him smile. It sent warm sparkles all through him,
sparkles and sunshine and shooting stars.

“I wish to hear your songs.”

***

The Captain sighed and leaned out
over the Wall.
Lhahore
nestled in shadow now, her torches flickering
eyes in the darkness. The Great Mountains were no longer her protector, rather
her lover for they enfolded her with wide arms. Small hills and grassy plains
stretched out as if forever, and lights from battle towers could be seen all
along their length. Far to the northwest lay the old ruins of
Roar’pundih,
a former dog-city that had been the site of a fierce battle during construction
of this section of Wall. It had also very likely been the site of a fierce battle
in Ancient times as well. Bits of architecture still remained, temple peaks and
gray roads and metal, red and brittle with age. Few cats lived there. It seemed
impossible to overcome the devastation. The rats, however, were plentiful and
Lhahore
was in constant danger from their invasions.

The
Major appeared at his side. “They will be closing the city soon.”

He
growled softly. “Fetch him, please.”

“Shall
I bring a guard?”

“You
can handle it.”

“Sir.”

With a swift nod, she spun on her
heel and was gone, her boots echoing down the vast stairwell of the tower keep.
He watched from above for some time longer.

***

“Well, that was easy,” said Kerris,
tucking a package under his cloak. “I believe that if you could steal an
Imperial seal, you could write orders on a blade of swamp grass and they would
be obeyed.”

Sherah
al Shiva smiled and took the arm he offered her. The streets were growing dark,
lanterns lighting the path to and from the apothecary’s where they had just
been. Soon, town watchmen would come along to inspect the streets, send good
people home, and at the hour of the boar, the town’s gates would be shut up,
closing all cats, good and not so, in for the night.

“Not
to mention the things you could buy. Think about it – I’ll take those boots
over there, see this Imperial seal here? And those puzzle rings and that sash
and oh yes, a pint of your best ale, thanks. Just send your bill to my dear friend,
Lyn-ling, at the Palace.’ Yes, I think it would be quite easy.”

“Of
course.”

“Say,
we have some time before they close up the gates. Care for a drink? I’m sure we
can find a tavern or two.”

“I
have no money.”

“That’s
alright.” He grinned at her, raising the small, leather-rubber stamp his
brother had given him. He waggled it in the lamplight. “I think the Empress has
enough for us both.”

“That
was for supplies.”

“If
I recall correctly, which is never a thing of certainty when it comes to me,
the exact words were ‘Get what you need’ and I distinctly need a bowl or two of
sakeh.”

She
let one long speckled hand slide down the length of his thigh.

“Is that all that you need, sidi?”

“Well,”
he grinned some more as they headed toward a brightly lit window. “It’s a start.”

***

‘Little Blossom made a sash,
Made a sash for her love

Little fingers worked the sash,
Worked the sash with silken thread

Made the sash for her love who
worked upon the Wall

Upon the Wall, Upon the Wall,

For her love upon the Wall,
Little Blossom made a sash.

Little Blossom traveled day and
night, night and day to see her love

Little feet traveled night and
day, On little slippers small and fine

Day and night, night and day,
she traveled to the Wall

To the Wall, To the Wall,

To the Wall, Little slippers
traveled far to see her love

 
Little Blossom found the Wall, long and gold, a serpent’s
tail

Little hands caught their eye,
Called the soldiers guarding there

Soldiers saw that little hand,
from high above the Wall

Above the Wall, Above the Wall

Above the Wall, the soldiers saw
her calling for her love

Ten strong tigers lifted her, in
a basket of bamboo

Ten strong arms, in a basket of
bamboo Little Blossom went

Like the bread or fish or rice,
in a basket of bamboo

Up the Wall, Up the Wall

Up the Wall in a basket of
bamboo, Little Blossom went

Little Blossom wept and moaned,
at the news of her love’s death

Little heart broke for love was
dead, fallen from the tower high

Her love was dead for many days,
fallen from the Wall

From the Wall, From the Wall

 
From the Wall, her love had died, fallen from on high

Little Blossom took the step,
with the sash clutched to her breast

Little step across the side,
into the air, over the edge

To death’s dark heart, she
followed her love over the Wall

Over the Wall, Over the Wall

Over the Wall Little Blossom
stepped, with the sash clutched to her breast’

“That was beautiful,” said Sireth,
after several moments.

Fallon
sighed. “It always makes me cry.”

“Me
too. You see? You needn’t keep those songs in your head. Others might enjoy
them as I did.”

“I
never had the courage to sing in front of anyone but my family. My father was a
great singer. When he opened his mouth, the whole jungle shook.”

He
could not stop himself from smiling. Neither did he chase it from his face when
he noticed the Captain standing in the doorway. Suddenly, the tigress noticed
him too. She covered her mouth with her hand.

“Oh, mother...”

“He
was right. You sing beautifully.”

The
Captain crossed the room, folded his legs and lowered himself next to them.

“It is time.”

“Already?”
chirped the Scholar, glancing toward a high, small window as if she could tell
the very hour from the blackness. “Wow, where is everyone?”

“We
will start without them.” He turned to study the Seer. “Are you sufficiently
prepared?”

Sireth
snorted. “For second level? I should hope so.”

“You
can do better?”

“Well, from what we’d been able to
determine at
Sha’Hadin,
the seven Levels of
AhmniShakra
do not
apply in my case. There is no measure as to how far, or how deep my gifts run.
According to Petrus, there isn’t a man living today who can match me. Not even
he
could fathom their depths. Why, Captain,” he leaned forward, his good eye
gleaming in the lamp-light. “Can you do that which Petrus Mercouri could not?”