A Cat of Silvery Hue

VII

The city of Morguhnpolis had never before seen such activity. While about its walls camped near twenty thousand soldiers of the Confederation, the city itself housed the persons and retinues of High Lord Milo, High Lady Aldora, an arhkeethoheeks, no less than six thoheeksee, and scores of komeesee, vahrohnoee, vahrohneeskoee and untitled Kindred noblemen. Chief Hwahltuh of Sanderz and his clansmen lodged, too, in the city not because they liked city life—they one and all hated it!—but because the lovesmitten Hwahltuh had taken to heart the beauteous Mother Behrnees Morguhn’s parting admonition to “look out for our Bili.” Though, to the thinking of Clanbard Gil Sanderz, if any one of these mostly softer eastern Kindred definitely did not need the services of a bodyguard—much less a clan of them—it was that grim, stark warrior, Thoheeks Bili, Chief of Morguhn.

Awaiting the arrivals of the remaining three thoheeksee and certain other tardy nobles, Bili began to wonder if his duchy would be stripped bare in sustenance of the swelling hordes. One night in the soft bed he now shared with the Undying High Lady Aldora, he mindspoke of his apprehensions, and within a week, Confederation commissary wagons were stocking his larders to the very rafters. He remarked, lightly he thought, in her presence that it was a shame there were no more unemployed Freefighters about, as late arrivals would find themselves unable to field more than what swords they brought with them from their demesnes. Shortly, the north and east traderoads seemed to swarm with bands of Freefighters, ranging in size from two or three bravos to a score. Yet Bili knew that not even the legendary Confederation Gallopers could have so rapidly spread the word.

On the large bed in the sumptuous suite which had been Vahrohnos Myros’ own while he had governed Morguhnpolis, Bili and Aldora lay entwined. The dim light thrown by the low lamps glinted on their sweat-shiny bodies. His long arms enfolded her, his thin, pale lips were locked to her full, dark ones, while the palms of her small, hard hands moved in lazy, sensuous circles on the fair, freckled skin of his thick-muscled back and wide, massive shoulders.

When first Aldora had actually seen the young thoheeks, she had felt almost repelled, for though handsome enough, his waist was thicker than she preferred and his hips were far wider than were those of the average man. It was not until she actually fought beside him against a desperate force of cornered Vawnee horsemen, saw the ease with which he managed that ten-pound axe, making of it both shield and fearsome weapon, that she came to appreciate his atypical build. The classic masculine form-wide shoulders tapering to a narrow waist and slim hips—would never have been able to develop or give purchase to the almost abnormal masculature of back, buttocks and belly which were requisite in a skilled and accomplished axe wielder.

But in the weeks since that first meeting, his hard, scarred body—so very fair where sun and wind had not browned it, the skin so soft and smooth where the puckered cicatrices of old wounds did not roughen it—and the fine young man that body housed had become very dear to her. Few men she could recall in nearly a hundred and fifty years had become so dear so soon.

As his deadly efficiency as a warrior impressed all who witnessed it, as his almost immediate grasp of problems of strategy, tactics, logistics and the proper marshaling of a large, heterogeneous force impressed his peers and the High Lord, so did his understanding of the theory and application of the skills of the bedly arts amaze and enrapture the High Lady Aldora. His beautiful blending of tenderness and fire, of fierce passion and gentle regard, never failed to leave her trembling and gasping, sometimes weeping her pure joy and gratitude. Then he would kiss the tears from her cheeks and eyelids, while their warm breaths mingled and the caressing hands did delightful things to the ultrasensitive parts of her blissfully tired body … and would continue doing those things until her tiredness was once more drowned in a surging flood of fresh desire.

So it was this night His lips left hers to first nuzzle at her soft throat, then kiss their way downward to end suckling one red-brown nipple, while a big hand crept from beneath her back to gently roll the other nipple between thumb and forefinger. When the uncommitted hand glided over her flat belly, she moaned, then softly gasped as his hard but tender fingers continued on into the damp tangle beyond. And even as that hand moved slowly, engulfing all of her being in joy-drenched agony, his lips forsook her nipple and returned to her throat But now it was his even white teeth which served, inflicting tiny, stinging bites from the hollow of that throat around to the nape, then back up the slender column of her neck to her ear.

And the palms which had caressed his back were short-nailed claws which dug deep into his shoulders, tore oozing scratches in that freckled skin. Long shudders racked Aldora’s olive-tan body, her head lay thrown back, the eyelids tight closed and her lips skinned back from her teeth, while from her half-opened mouth issued an endless moan, interspersed with little whimpers of unbearable pleasure.

At last she began to gasp, “Oh, Bili … Bili … oh, Bili, love … Oh, please, please, Bili… oh, dear, sweet Bili, enter now … I beg of you, Bili, as you love Sacred Sun… Please, Bili, please … Bili … Bili …”

And much, much later, as they lay side by side, his hand clasping hers, a balmy nightwind flickering the lamp flames and soothing their bodies, his mind touched her own.

“Aldora, I am ignorant of many things, but horses and riding I know well. It is ten days’ hard riding from Morguhn to the nearest of the Middle Kingdoms, so it is just not possible that any galloper could have covered that distance and let it be known that there was a market here for Freefighters in time for them to start arriving in Morguhn only two weeks after I remarked the need for them. What sorcery do you practice, Aldora?”

“Not sorcery, Bili, farspeak.”

“No” He shook his shaven head, speaking aloud in his vehemence. “I know something of farspeak, Aldora. Most talented is the farspeaker who can range more than a score and ten miles, and even then he must know well the mind to which he speaks!”

A smile flitted across her face. “Oh, darling Bili, there is truly much you now know not But you will. I doubt you could believe now the multitude of new skills you’ll learn, the abilities you’ll learn you possess and can develop once we get this devilish rebellion scotched and—but that is future, my love.

“As for farspeak, generally speaking, you’re right though training and practice can sometimes extend the range of one with minimal ability. Certain exceptional people, however, are born with fantastic range. I am one such, love. We have never had a way of determining just how great is my range. And the vast majority of farspeakers, who are normally limited to five or ten or twenty or forty miles, can still range far, far out if they take the time or are given the opportunity to acquire the skills of melding their minds with others in order to transmit with the combined force.

“The Undying High Lady Mara and Milo—she is almost devoid of farspeak, and he, with Sun and Wind know how many centuries of practice, can, under ideal conditions, range all of fifteen miles!—this is how they range distances, by drawing on the added power of another mind. But the mind must be willing to be so used, and it must be conscious and rational.”

Bili interrupted. “Yes, Aldora, I know a little of this, come to think of it One of the Sanderz prairiecats, Whitetip, told me that the High Lord had contacted you through his mind on the night my brother was … slain. But he mentioned it sometime during that first, wild, hectic day of pursuit and, quite honestly, I’d forgotten it until now.” She did not return to her discussion, but asked, “How many … on how many levels of mindspeak can you operate, Bili?”

“Uhhhh … lets see. Well, personal, of course, and broadbeam, farspeak … within limits, of course. That’s about it, unless my, uhhh … ability to foresense danger be considered a part of mindspeak.”

She shrugged. “Some would say yes, some no, but the fact that you can is not really important in itself. What is important, Bili, is what your possession of that rare ability reveals to those who can recognize its hidden meanings.”

“I don’t follow, Aldora.”

She sat up and crossed her shapely legs, running a fingertip along the scar of an old swordcut slanted across his chest. “Your formative years were spent either in warfare or in preparation for it, and is not your foresensing a very valuable ability for a warrior?”

“Yes, Aldora, it’s saved my skin on numerous occasions.”

Nodding, she then asked, “How many of your peers in Harzburk possessed mindspeak ability?”

Reaching out, he brought her hand to his lips, kissing the fingertip which had brushed his chest. “Well, it’s not really rare in the Middle Kingdoms, though it’s not customarily used as much as it is in the Confederation for some reason. I’d say maybe three burkers out of five have it to a greater or lesser degree. Why?”

“And,” she inquired, arching her brows, “how many “of your peers possessed the ability to foresense danger as accurately as you do, love?”

“None,” he answered flatly. ‘Tve never met anyone here or there who could actually sense as I do. Oh, many men have premonitions; I have those too, but it’s not at all the same.”

“No,” Aldora nodded slowly, “it’s not. It’s as a lampflame to Sacred Sun. But as I said, the ability itself, while valuable to one who is practically a professional warrior, means less than what your development of it means.”

“Sun and Wind, woman,” he snapped, “will you stop speaking in ciphers? After all, Tm a poor, short-lived man. I lack the wisdom of an Undying.”

She threw back her head and pealed her silvery laughter at the high, frescoed ceiling. “If I knew a way to make you such, my young stallion, you would be, and less for your mattress prowess than for your wit.

“But more seriously, what your rare talent indicates is an equally rare mind, Bili; a mind which not only recognized and fulfilled the need for a definite survival trait, but was capable of such fulfillment! For, if your mind is sufficiently versatile and adaptable without proper training, what stupendous feats might you accomplish when provided with the skills to consciously call forth who knows what from within yourself?

“And, apropos hidden abilities, I spoke with a merchant in Kehnooryos Atheenahs who told me a very interesting tale. It seems that he and some of his associates were journeying from the Kaliphate to the Confederation by way of the Eastern Trade Road, their wagons loaded with rich goods. At some spring camp in the County of Getzburk they and their Freefighters were set upon by a large and determined pack of brigands, and though they fought with stern resolution, it seemed certain that they must all soon be slain.

“Then, from the hill behind them came the unmistakable tumult of a full troop of kahtahfrahktoee or dragoons at the charge. Not only the merchants and their servants and Freefighters heard this troop, the robbers did too, and they consequently beat a quick, if disorganized, retreat—though because of rain and fog and ground mist, none could see the patrol.

“Yet, when the brigands were all fled and the rescued would have thanked their rescuers, what did they discover but that there was no troop, only a single armored axeman and his black warhorse. Yet all had heard the shouted commands, the chorus of war cries, the clanking and clashing of arms and equipment; they’d felt the drumming of scores of hooves and seen brief glimpses of a full patrol!

“And that merchant told me the name of his rescuer, as well. And do you know, love, the name he gave was yours. Sir Bili Morguhn?”

Bill’s mindshield snapped into place like a steel visor, and so his answer was, perforce, spoken aloud. “It’s as I told the merchant, Yahseer—it was just a case of fog and mist and, on the part of the brigands, fear, and, on the part of the others, wishful thinking, that let them imagine my sortie was the charge of a patrol … though, naturally, I did shout the orders and tell my horse to make lots of noise, but…”

She only grinned, her disbelief obvious, then went on, “And I recently spoke with another man who told me of a grim little set-to under the walls of besieged Behreezburk. He told me of a young axeman who rode out as surrogate for his king to meet the lord of that burk in personal combat. He told me of how that burk lord had, most dishonorably, concealed two armed, armored and mounted members of his bodyguard and how, when it became clear to him that his strength and weapons skills could not prevail against his opponent, he basely whistled up his dogs to cut down a man who had met him with the understanding that theirs was to be a single combat.

“This man told me of how the two guards charged in on their lord’s flanks, yet suddenly threw up their shields and commenced to flail their swords at empty air, as if engaging enemies no one else could see! Then he told of how this young axeman cut down first the treacherous burk lord—who would, he said, have been slain by his own men had he survived, since he had so dishonored a sacred Swordoath—then the two bodyguards, who until their very deaths continued to flail away at nonexistent foemen.

“This man said that throughout the rest of that siege all in both armies called that valiant fighter ‘Bili the Axe’ and that, as a result of his prowess in that encounter, the King of Harzburk knighted him who slew the burk lord. This man attests that this same Bili the Axe is now called thoheeks and Chief of Morguhn. Those are your titles, are they not, beloved?”

“You know damned well they are!” Bili growled from betwixt clenched teeth.

“Then,” she asked lightly, “is there not another talent of which you wish to tell me, sweetling?”

He glowered at her, snarling, “Damn that Hohguhn’s wormy guts! He’s Swordoathed to me, dammit When he gets back from Horse County, I’ll—”

Her demeanor and tone became serious, then. “Thoheeks Bili will do nothing of a foolish or hostile nature to Freefighter Bohreegahd Hohguhn … not if he be truly the shrewd and sagacious chief that all believe him, that I would hope the man I have honored with my love to be.

“Besides, Hohguhn has no faintest germ of an idea that you had aught to do with bemusing those two would-be murderers. He thinks they must have been drunk or had mixed hemp juice with their tobacco. And this seems to have been the consensus of those who watched the combat from within Behreezburk.

“I can understand and appreciate your desire to keep the way you really triumphed a secret, since in Harzburk the knowledge that you had so slain three men might have seen you haled up before a Swordcouncil on charges of dishonorable conduct and witchcraft; nor would the owner of such unheard-of powers be either knighted or invested with the Order of the Bear of Harzbruk.

“But, sweetheart, if ever again you return to the Middle Kingdoms, it will be as but a visiting nobleman from another realm. Nor will you, if ever that day comes, wish to display your bear, since, at the conclusion of this present unpleasantness, Milo means to see you wear a cat”

At his stunned expression, her laughter pealed once more. “Oh, poor Bili, you look as if smitten with your own great axe.” She sobered and her voice softened perceptibly. “But if anyone in this duchy deserves a cat, it is you, my love; so says the Undying High Lord Milo of Morai. Though bemused by a blow on the helm toward the end, he was conscious during the whole of that fight you commanded at what-do-you-call-it Bridge, and he avows that seldom in all bis centuries of life has he witnessed such feats of prowess and selfless valor as you displayed, Bili.”

She moved closer and, taking his big hand in both her smaller ones, said softly, “And the Undying Lady Aldora will be both happy and deeply honored to take part in your investiture, my own thoheeks, and she will feel fierce pride when all the capital sees you ride your great horse forward to salute your High Lord, hear him recount your glorious exploits to the assembled Holders of the Cat, then receive from his hands the jeweled symbol of the Confederation’s gratitude. But I alone will know that there be far more to this newest member of the Order of the Cat than only courage and expertise at war. I will know that your stark ferocity be tempered with tenderness, your bravery with love. My only regret will be then, as it now is, that all the wonders we share must so soon end… .” Her voice broke then, trailed off, her shoulders and head drooped.

“But why,” he demanded bursquely, “why must our … our love end, Aldora? I can let my brother, Tchahrlee, rule Morguhn, can have him declared thoheeks and chief, can come to Kehnooryos Atheenahs and be with you as long as I live!”

“Yes, my Bili, as long as you live.” She raised her head, brushing her long black hair away from her heart-shaped, now tear-streaked, face, fixed his hurt and angry blue eyes with the gaze of her black, swimming eyes. “And each new day would see my love for you grow in depth and intensity, and each new day would see you one day older, one day closer to death. And as advancing age set hateful teeth to gnawing painfully at that splendid body, I would be the same as I am now. And you could not but resent such an injustice, my love, and so even as my love for you increased, your love would be souring from resentment to dislike to hate and—no, be still, let me finish.

“I know what you were going to say, the denials you were about to make, but please believe me, love, I know the truth of what I have said, for I have seen and experienced it … many times. If we Undying be truly cursed, as the Ehleen priests avow, this be the curse: an endless time of loneliness with but brief, tantalizing snatches of real happiness or love.

“Then there is this, Bili. You are a rare man, a rare and wonderful combination of assets. It would be the most terrible of misdeeds not to bend every effort of will in persuading you to breed soon and often, that your precious strain may be carried on to the enrichment and glory of the Confederation in coming generations. Nothing would give me more joy than to be able to bear your sons and daughters, sweet love, but we Undying can neither sire nor conceive, even among ourselves.

“And so, my Bili, you and I have a year or two, mayhap even three, but then Milo and Mara and my own conscience will insist that we get you wedded and bedded to some Kindred maids of good mindspeak stock and proven fertility.”

All at once, she threw her wiry, well-formed body against his with such force that she bore him onto his back. Savagely, she ground her mouth on his lips, while her hands frantically grasped and kneaded his body, mindspeaking, “Oh, my own dear love, three years is so very little time, let us not waste a second of it Oh, love me, Bili, please, please love me!”

Slowly, the late or delayed noblemen trickled into Morguhnpolis and, by the waning of the Wine Moon, all the thoheeks of the archduchy were assembled, along with most of the Kindred and Ehleenoee landholders—all save Thoheeks Djehs of Vawn and his kin.

And this last very nearly precipitated strife amidst those assembled, since it was necessary that a surrogate be named to fill the chair of the missing duke. As it was quite likely, judging from the testimonies of those few Vawnee taken alive, that the surrogate would be confirmed Thoheeks of Vawn in the end, and as Vawn was a rich duchy, what with its mines and high leas full of sheep and goats, all of the great nobles proposed a younger son or a favored kinsman for the needed surrogate. But to approve one would be to offend all the rest, and Milo could see this enterprise—organized to promote unity amongst the nobles. Kindred or Ehleenoee—dissolving into hotheaded recriminations and, possibly, blood feuding.

Bili of Morguhn arose from his place at the council table. “My Kindred, I, too, wish to propose a surrogate for Thoheeks Vawn of revered memory.”

Thoheeks Hwil of Bailee of Blue Mountain smiled tightly, his bald pate reflecting as much lamplight as Bili’s shaven one. “We are sure you do, young Morguhn. But you must realize that after the reconquest of Vawn, a man with both a strong hand and mature judgment is going to be needed in that duchy. All your brothers are just too young.”

Bili’s wolf grin answered the old thoheeks” smile. “Just so, Kindred, just so. That is why I propose Chief Hwahltuh of Sanderz as surrogate Thoheeks Vawn.”

While the “noble gentlemen” shouted, snarled, cursed, pounded the tabletop and similarly carried out their polite discussion of the proposal of Morguhn, Milo mindspoke Bili on a level to which none of the others could attain.

“Why the Sanderz, Bili? Because he seems intent on wedding one of your mothers, or simply because you like himr

“Neither,” replied the young duke. “Who my mothers choose to wed is their affair. And while I respect the Sanderz for his fighting skills, his leadership abilities and his horsemanship, among other things, I sometimes find him a damned hard man to stomach. So I can’t say that I like him.

“No, I am just weary unto death of this squabbling, this senseless wrangling over Vawn. When first I met most of these men, I was almost in awe of them, but this business has shown me their other guises. They’re like wild dogs snarling and snapping over a rotted carcass.

“Since Chief Hwahltuh be True Kindred, my lord, why not give him and his clan Vawn? Why make him go on to Kehnooryos Atheenahs to swear his oaths to you when he can do so here? Admittedly, I be ignorant of many of the finer points of custom and the Law of the Tribe, but this course seems practical and, if we act now, mayhap we can get this war done by harvest time.”

Milo mindspoke dryly, “But how to get such practicality across to your peers? Be not too harsh in your judgment of them, though, Bili; the chiefs who were their many-times-grandsires were no less petulant and quarrelsome, yes, and just as grasping at times.”

“ENOUGH?’ snapped the ahrkeethoheeks disgustedly. “Our young Kinsman’s proposal is the best I expect to hear. I, for one, am in favor of immediately adopting it. I say we name Chief Hwahltuh surrogate Thoheeks Vawn. To simplify matters, why not combine the names—Thoheeks and Chief of Vawn-Sanderz. Eh?”

Squat, muscular, black-haired Thoheeks Djaimzos of Duhnkin slapped horny palm to table. “Not so fast, Kinsman, not so fasti Part of the Agreements of Confederation states, if I recall properly, that new-come clans will not be given the lands or any parts thereof already settled by Kindred. The High Lord may correct me if I be wrong, but I believe that he has, in times past, given such newcomers recently subdued border lands for their duchies; in fact, I think Vawn was originally one such, years agone.

“No, we must look amongst the old, established Kindred for a proper surrogate, and I can think of none better than my brother Tanist Petros’ son-in-law, Vahrohneeskos Ahrktos Baikuh!”

“That dimwit?” snorted Thoheeks Hari of Baikuh, his brick-red mustachios quivering, his gray eyes flashing. “My cousin—my own mother’s sister’s son—he be, yet I must tell you that Cousin Ahrktos cannot find his arse with both hands! Quite frankly, we had almost despaired of finding a noble Kinsman stupid enough to suffer a daughter to marry the moron, until”—he grinned slyly—“we lucked onto the House of Duhnkin.

“No, if a Baikuh’s to be chosen—and what House better qualified?—my second-oldest brother, Komees Lupos, who—”

“Who,” Thoheeks Alehk of Skaht sneered, “anytime you or even your horse farts, shouts ‘Here I be, my lord!’ Oh, true, he obviously knows his name and station, but the Vawn went to Wind bravely and in honor. Can we choose a lesser man for such a chiefs surrogate?”

He paused to clear his throat. “Now my son, Dahn—”

Another round of shouting, threating and general uproar then ensued. Milo’s broadbeamed mindspeak finally ended it.

“Gentlemen … and I use the term very loosely since there appear to be but two such in my presence. There be weightier things at hand than the disposal of a vacant title and its lands, and these be not yours to award in any case but mine. I have decided in favor of Thoheeks Morguhn’s wise suggestion.

“Nor can this decision be construed as favoritism, since the Sanderz is Kindred to all here yet close relative of none.

“Nor, Thoheeks Duhnkin, are the Agreements of Confederation in any manner compromised by this decision. Think you, are we not all here assembled to conquer Vawn? Are not Chief Hwahltuh and most of his clan’s fighters taking part in that conquest? Could we adhere any more closely to the Agreements, then?”

So it was that, before all the assembled nobles of the archduchy, Chief Hwahltuh of Sanderz and his clansmen took their oaths to the Undying God of the Horseclans, Milo of Morai, High Lord of the Confederation of Kindred and Ehleenoee.

After so many weeks of living and fighting and roistering among these, once strange, eastern Kinsmen, the short, wiry, middle-aged warrior was no longer ill at ease, though he still held Milo in greater awe than did the more sophisticated easterners. In the new clothing, boots and armor Bili had pressed upon him, he impressively fulfilled his part of the long ceremony, and he was proclaimed Thoheeks of Vawn and Chief of Sanderz by the High Lord, these titles being confirmed by each of the major and minor nobles, in turn—which took considerable time plus the best efforts of a brazen-throated sergeant major of the Confederation kahtahfrahktoee.

And when “Komees Daiviz of Horse County!” was called, the chunky Vaskos stood and roared back his “Aye, my lords. All of Horse County say, ‘Long life to Thoheeks Hwahltuh of Vawn!’”

“And so,” Komees Hari’s son went on, smiling at Bili over his goblet of Vahrohnos Myros’ best honey wine, “we cleared the county of rebels. As best we can figure, only the huntsman, Danos, escaped us. At least we couldn’t find his body, though his sword, bow and armor and all his clothing were still in his quarters. Among those papers I brought is the receipt from your prison keeper for the persons of Lady Hehrah Daiviz, Sub-kooreeos Pavlos and his woman, one Ntohrees Kahntlehs. The only others left alive in Horse Hall were the headman’s kidnapped wife and a handful of servants’ children, all of them since taken in by villagers who had lost their own to Hehrah’s evil.”

Bill nodded. “Then I assume Hari’ll not be taking part in the campaign?”

Vaskos’ hearty chuckle nearly slopped out his wine. “Hardly. Hell be along presently, though we’ll be in Vawn by then—hopefully. But you know Father-first come his people, then his purse, though he’s not nearly so impecunious as you’d think by his bellyaching.

“No, he wants to be sure that his folk and his horses will be well provided for and ascertain the minimum number of men required to take in the crops if the campaign outlasts this season.

“Oh, and speaking of men, Father has learned his lesson. You recall how adamant he was that he’d never maintain Freefighters at Horse Hall? Well, he’s kept eight—no, nine—of yours. But I’m sure Boh Hohguhn will cover that in his report, after which, with your permission, of course, he’s promised to go out and help me sign on a score of good Freefighters for Father’s own use.”

Lieutenant Hohguhn’s report was short and • concise. He told of one man killed by slingstone and two wounded, one of them soon to come back to the army with the old komees; the other, though he had at first appeared to have suffered only a bump on the head, had become prone to fainting fits and, after pitching down a staircase one day, had died of a broken neck. The officer had brought back the dead men’s horses and gear, and he assured Bill that when he assisted Vaskos in recruiting the Daiviz condotta, he would sign on two good fighters to replace the losses.