In the City of Cats

Part 02

	Guards were posted and dozens of fresh torches were lit all around the Rabbit Wall but, by that evening, the threat of Sabia's visit had been drowned out by a renewed sense of excitement for the wedding.  The town square was packed.  Nearly every rabbit in Oseille was there and they sat in rows to watch while Saoirse lit the colored torches that had been lined up in a path from the southern end of the square all the way to the pavilion.  Ciara stood in the shadows next to Deirdre while they waited.
	“Sabia will show up.  She wouldn't miss this for anything,” Deirdre said.
	“Do you have to talk about that now?  I'd like to enjoy this evening as much as I can,” Ciara said.
	“I'm just trying to look after you, that's all.  The way a mother's supposed to,” Deirdre said.
	“You're bored and you're looking for a chance to go rushing off.  Hold still and and be patient.  There's wine and whiskey at the reception.  You'll like that,” Ciara said.
	“Now you're just being mean,” Deirdre said, and she swatted Ciara's leg with her tail.  Then she cast a sidelong glance at Ciara. “Is it good wine?” she said.
	“The best.  Now hush,” Ciara said.
	An ancient drum was set up under the pavilion.  It was black with age and smoke and the drum head was made of a peculiar kind of bark from a tree which no longer existed but which produced a clearer, deeper sound than drums made of bits of hide.  Saoirse struck the drum once with the flat of her hand and the sound echoed off the roofs of nearby houses like thunder.
	“What's that for?” Deirdre said.
	“Our cue,” Ciara said.
	She took Deirdre's hand and they walked slowly toward the tent where Saoirse stood.  They met Niamh and Fiachra at the start of the torchlit path just as as second drum beat rolled over the town. Ciara caught Niamh's glance and quickly looked away, but not before she noticed how nervous the girl looked.  They were supposed to keep their attention on Saoirse, but Ciara's fingers itched and she wanted to take Niamh's hand to reassure her old friend that everything would be okay.
	They started down the path on the third drum beat and this time Saoirse set to her task with a will.  The old doe struck the drum with both fists and the thunder rose in a crescendo that made Ciara lay her ears against her head in pain.  The air pulsed with the sound as they drew closer, until she could feel it throb in her bones.
	The drum stopped when they reached the mouth of the tent.  The silence that followed was every bit as overwhelming as the drum had been and Ciara had to bite her tongue to keep from yelping just to fill it up.  Saoirse looked out at them from her station and Ciara could just make out the smile on the old doe's lips.
	“Come to me,” Saoirse said.
	Deirdre let go of Ciara's hand and Ciara took a step forward just as Niamh did the same.  They entered the pavilion together and stood in front of the drum.  They were so close together now that Ciara brushed Niamh's fingers with her own and swished her tail so the tip of it just brushed the backs of Niamh's legs.  Niamh smiled a little and she let one of her ears droop enough so it touched Ciara's cheek.  If Saoirse noticed these violations of tradition, she didn't give any sign.
	“So here we are, about to break every law our ancestors ever laid down.  You know no rabbit has ever married a fox before?” Saoirse said.
	“I do.  But blood is not destiny.  It shaped me, but it does not control me,” Ciara said.
	Saoirse smiled then and she struck the drum again.
	“I will take your word as your bond.  So then, do you, Ciara Lohan, daughter of foxes, stand here seeking my grand-daughter's hand in marriage?” Saoirse said.
	“With your blessing, I do,” Ciara said.
	“About damned time, too.  My Niamh has spent enough time pining over you,” Saiorse said.
	Ciara saw Niamh smile with relief and there was a satisfied murmur from the rabbits seated closest to them.  Saoirse had warmed up to her quite a bit after she and Niamh had come back from Cearnach for the last time, but this was the first time the old doe had shown such fondness for her in public.  Ciara was glad that the torchlight was too dim to show the blush as it crept up the insides of her ears.
	“Do you swear to always love and protect my grand-daughter against all harm?” Saoirse said.
	“I do swear,” Ciara said.
	“You may get your chance sooner than we'd all like,” Saoirse said.
	“Sabia doesn't frighten me.  Nothing does so long as I have Niamh by my side,” Ciara said.
	Saoirse's smile grew wider and she turned to face Niamh.
	“Well child?  Will you have her?” Saoirse said.
	“Her and no other, with all my heart,” Niamh said.
	“As you wish.  Miss Lohan, my grand-daughter is yours with my blessing, and with my thanks.  I couldn't wish for a better wife for her,” Saoirse said.
	Saoirse produced a purple velvet cushion on which was laid a pair of gold rings.  They were heirlooms from Niamh's family and very old.  They had last been worn by Niamh's parents and the rings had lain untouched for almost twenty years.  All of Niamh's earlier nervousness vanished when she picked the rings up from the cushion and slipped one over Ciara's finger.  Ciara did the same for Niamh, and her hands trembled slightly with a nervousness she hadn't felt since their first kiss.  Niamh held Ciara's hand for a moment after she managed to slip the ring on her wife's finger, and Niamh gave her a smile.
	“Everything I have is yours,” Niamh said.
	They kissed, and Ciara wrapped her arms around Niamh's waist to pull her wife close.  That wasn't part of the marriage ritual and it caused a stir among the audience.  Ciara smiled into Niamh's kiss and gave a happy swish of her tail.  She'd lived in Oseille for almost half her life now and she could still take them by surprise.  Sometimes, she suspected that the rabbits would be disappointed if she ever became respectable.
	It wasn't until she realized that the murmuring was growing angry and had been joined by shouts and the scrape of chairs being knocked over that Ciara turned around.  The closest rabbits were clustered together around the outside of the tent and more were coming in to join them.  Some of the rabbits held torches, and a few others held rocks or bits of broken chair fashioned into crude clubs.
	Sabia stood by herself in the middle of a wide ring of rabbits.  She grinned when she saw she had Ciara's attention, and she gave them a low curtsey.
	“A beautiful ceremony, truly.  Trust rabbits to turn everything into theater,” Sabia said.
	“It's why I like them.  They know how to make a girl feel important.  What do you want here?” Ciara said.
	Sabia laughed and threw her arms wide like she wanted to embrace everyone around her, which made the rabbits flinch.
	“What do I want?  Why, nothing more than what all of your neighbors gathered here want.  I was passing by on my way back home and I thought I'd stop and wish my old friends luck and joy on the day of their wedding,” Sabia said.
	“I'm no friend of yours,” Niamh said.
	“But you are and you know it.  You all are. Or do you think you and your rabbits would be half so well off as they are now without everything I did for you?” Sabia said.
	“We don't need your charity, or your wishes.  Go away,” Ciara said.
	“Such rudeness is hardly becoming of a princess.  Or a queen.  Queen Ciara.  You should have stayed in Cearnach when they offered you the throne  You'd do a much better job than that bloodless little vixen they have now,” Sabia said.
	Sabia doubled over laughing when Ciara lunged for her.  Niamh and Fiachra both held Ciara back, but she could feel both of them shaking with anger.
	“Lady Fithir has been good to us.  You will not speak ill of her in my city,” Saoirse said.
	Saoirse came down from her place by the drum and she put a hand on Ciara's shoulder, and one on Niamh's.  Ciara could feel the how the old rabbit trembled, but her voice was steady and she held Sabia in a gaze as steady as Ciara's own.
	“Your pardon, please.  I didn't know you were close,” Sabia said, but she never stopped smirking.
	Deirdre came out of the shadows to join them, her face fixed in a mask of fury, her ears flat against her head.
	“Give me back my sword,” Deirdre said.
	It still hung on Ciara's belt, where she had forgotten all about it until now.  Ciara put her hand on its hilt and she drew it part of the way from its sheath.  Then she let it drop and shook her head.
	“Thank you for your well wishes.  You have come a long way to deliver them and you shall be our guest tonight,” Ciara said.
	“After what she did to Connor?  I won't have it.  I don't know what you think of him, but he was your father and you still owe him a debt of loyalty,” Deirdre said.
	“He would have done the same, remember?  Dad always said you don't turn away a guest, even if she's your bitter enemy,” Ciara said.
	“He'd understand, just this once,” Deirdre said.
	Deirdre lunged for the sword. and she nearly had it when Sabia threw up her hands.
	“I will not intrude on your happiness for long.  Whatever you may think of me, I would never wish to spoil a day so well deserved as this one.  I simply dropped by to give you your wedding gift,” Sabia said.
	The old lynx produced a black box from a pouch hung at her side and held it out for Ciara to take.  It was small, barely large enough to cover Sabia's palm, and made of ebony with a gold latch.  Deirdre put a restraining hand on Ciara's wrist and shook her head.  Ciara hesitated, but she couldn't imagine how so simple a box could be dangerous.  She reached out with her free hand and took the gift from Sabia.
	“With my blessing,” Sabia said.
	The old lynx bowed to them and strode off down the torchlit lane.  The rabbits on either side of the path melted away in front of her but Ciara doubted Sabia even noticed.  Lynxes, like foxes, were good at not seeing people they didn't think were important.
	“She's one to talk about theater, the old bitch.  She can put on quite a show when she wishes to,” Saoirse said.
	Ciara opened the box.  Inside, nestled in a thick bed of cotton wool was a small golden statuette of one of the stylized foxes that decorated every church and shrine in Cearnach.  This one had ruby eyes and a tiny silver crown on its head.
	“It's cute, but I don't get it.  You aren't a princess, Sabia knows that,” Niamh said.
	“It's a nursery charm.  Connor gave one to me when Ciara was born.  They're supposed to be guardians against all the things a mother can't defend against herself. You know, sickness, accidents, that kind of thing,” Deirdre said.
	“I still have mine.  It's made of silver and it has amethysts for the eyes, to match my own,” Ciara said.
	“That's very sweet, but I don't think Ciara and I are going to need one.  It's not like we're going to be able to have a child,” Niamh said.
	Niamh hesitated then and cast a nervous glance at Deirdre.  For the most part, Deirdre didn't appear to have any problems with Ciara and Niamh's relationship.  The only sticking point was that there would be no grandchildren for her to spoil.  This once, though, Deirdre was too busy examining the charm to voice her disappointment.
	“You wouldn't get this one, even if you could have kids.  The eyes are ruby, and that's just for royalty.  This would only be given to the new heir to the throne,” Deirdre said.
	“She did call Ciara 'Queen'.  I think she meant it as a joke.  Maybe this is, too,” Niamh said.
	“Then it's a bad joke.  You can't buy this statue, and they're never given to outsiders.  Sabia must have stolen it,” Deirdre said.
	Ciara took the statue out of its box and held it up to catch the light from the torches.  The gold was slightly worn from centuries of handling and she could feel history adding its weight to the trinket it in her hands.  Her father's family had ruled the City of Foxes for hundreds of years and, in all that time, they had kept it safe.  She couldn't imagine how Sabia had gotten her hands on it.
	“Why would she steal this?  Even if she could sell it, there isn't enough gold here to be worth more than a hundred dollars,” Niamh said.
	“She wasn't interested in it for the gold.  She stole it because it was my father's,” Ciara said.