In the City of Cats

Part 04

	Fithir had come to Oseille by herself.  Deirdre lectured her for her recklessness all the way out to the Merchant's Gate, where Fithir had left her horse.
	“I had to move fast,” Fithir said.
	“You could have been killed.  What if you'd actually caught up to Sabia out there all alone?  She could have cut your throat and nobody would have ever known,” Deirdre said.
	Ciara saw Fithir's ears go flat.
	“What do you suppose Sabia would do to my daughter if she thought I was coming after her with an army at my back?” Fithir said.
	“She might give up,” Deirdre said.
	“You know better,” Fithir said.
	Of the four horses they had with them, only Thirteen might have served as a warhorse.  Ciara had trained her yellow mare to follow the same commands that Embarr had known, and Thirteen had some of her father's fire in her blood.  Niamh's grey pony mare, recently bought and named Mouse, was a meek creature who shied at loud noises.  Mouse suited her reluctant mistress in that Niamh was as nervous of riding as her pony was of everything else.
	Deirdre and Fithir both rode animals that might have been better suited to be plow horses, except that Deirdre's roan stallion was nearly as hot tempered as she was.  He balked and bit at the least provocation, and Ciara was secretly of the opinion that Deirdre had chosen him out of spite.  She was never happy unless she had someone to fight.
	They rode in a loose formation with Deirdre in the lead.  Fithir behind her, and Ciara and Niamh brought up the rear.  They lagged behind just enough to give themselves the illusion of privacy, and so Niamh wouldn't have to worry about Mouse running into the horse ahead of her if she got spooked.
	“Your mother hasn't changed a bit,” Niamh said.
	“I never really thought she would.  She means well.  She's just can't stop playing soldier,” Ciara said.
	“Do you think she's really happy in Oseille?” Niamh said.
	It was something that Ciara had wondered about, herself.  Deirdre never complained, and in all the time she'd lived in Oseille she'd made every effort to get along with the rabbits.  She even had a few friends now.  The trouble was, Deirdre was a wanderer.  It wasn't in her nature to stay put and Ciara wondered how much of her mother's recent troubles came from boredom.
	“Where else can she go now?” Ciara said.
	“She really isn't much good at making friends, is she?  Saoirse seems to like her, though,” Niamh said.
	“Damned if I know how she pulled that one off.  Nobody has ever accepted Deirdre as quickly as she did, but they act almost like they're friends now,” Ciara said.
	Ciara shifted uncomfortably in her saddle and she wondered if she'd ever get used to it.  She was used to riding bareback, and she still preferred to ride that way even though Thirteen had never tried to eat the tack like Embarr had.  That wasn't possible for this trip, though.  Before they'd left they'd loaded Thirteen and Deirdre's stallion down with bedrolls and everything else they thought the horses could carry.
	“Do you think we'll actually catch up to them?” Niamh said.
	“We'd better.  I don't know what the four of us could do alone if Sabia makes it safely behind Blackpool's walls,” Ciara said.
	“We got in once,” Niamh said.
	“That's because we had Alana to help us then,” Ciara said.
	“We'd better think of another way, then.  Fithir will tear the walls down with her bare hands before she gives up,” Niamh said.
	“She just might try, you're right.  But that just leads us to a different problem.  What can the four of us do if we catch Sabia and her bodyguards out in the open?” Ciara said.
	It had only been a year since the last war and, brief as it was, Viridis still bore the scars from it.  The land around Oseille was mostly repaired, but there were still broad trenches around the city where the soldiers had dug in.  The road dipped down into one of those depressions and Ciara shivered.  She was sure it was her imagination, but old battlefields always felt colder than they ought to.  Worse, there was no place to really hide.  The armies had either cut down or burned most of the trees on either side of the road.
	“I'm sure everyone will be glad you asked that question,” Niamh said.
	When Deirdre spurred her horse up the next hill to look around, Fithir dropped back a little to join them.
	“Your mother told me Sabia gave you Brigit's nursery statue,” Fithir said.
	Ciara dug the little golden fox out of her pocket and held it out for Fithir to take, but Fithir shook her head.  The queen was an indifferent rider at best and she never let go of her gelding's reins.  But she did smile a little when she saw the statue.
	“You see?  I prayed and this is my sign.  The Mother of the World will look after my daughter until she is safe in my arms again,” Fithir said.
	Ciara caught Niamh's look of warning in time to give Fithir a gentle smile.
	“I hope She will,” Ciara said.  Maybe if Fithir believed in it enough, it might do some good after all.
	They crested the next hill and found Deirdre waiting for them.  She had dismounted and turned her stallion to shield herself from something at the bottom of the hill.  She'd drawn her sword and her ears were flat.  As they drew closer, Ciara Deirdre put a hand on her sword.
	“All of you get down, now.  He's got a crossbow,” Deirdre said.
	Ciara obeyed at once, acting more on long habit than conscious thought, and she led Thirteen next to the stallion and turned her to the side to help hide the others.  For once, she was glad her mother had drilled her on battlefield tactics all through her childhood.
	“You're planning something,” Ciara said.  She didn't have to see her mother's expression to know that.
	“It's up to me to keep the rest of you safe.  That's why I'm here,” Deirdre said.
	“If you rush down there you're just going to get yourself killed,” Ciara said.
	By raising herself up on her toes Ciara could just see over Thirteen's back to the bottom of the hill.  It was guarded by a lynx in leather armor.  He was small, for a lynx, barely taller than Ciara was.  Besides his crossbow he was armed with a light axe and every inch of him that was visible under his armor was covered in scars.
	“Nothing but the best,” said Deirdre, and she spat.
	“We don't need to fight him.  He can't outrun the horses,” Fithir said.
	“He wouldn't have to.  He could just shoot one of us in the back.  You can bet he knows how to track, too.  I'll have to take him down,” Deirdre said.
	“You're not going down there alone,” Fithir said.
	“No, she's not,” Ciara said.
	She pulled the sword out of the scabbard on Fithir's belt before the Queen could stop her and stepped back to join her mother.  Niamh reached out and took Ciara's hand, and there was such a look of fear in the girl's eyes it broke Ciara's heart.  But when she squeezed Niamh's hand, Niamh squeezed back.
	“Be careful, you stupid fox,” Niamh said.
	“I'm not going to do anything rash.  Any more than I already have done,” Ciara said.
	Deirdre growled, and Ciara thought she might argue, but Deirdre only shrugged her shoulders to settled her cuirass and tightened her grip on her sword.
	“If you're going to insist on doing this then you stay behind me and obey my orders,” Deirdre said.
	“We'll see,” Ciara said.
	There was no question of stealth.  Even if they could have slipped away from the horses without being seen, the plain around them was empty of everything but a few sparse shrubs and stick-thin trees.  The lynx paced back and forth at the bottom, cradling his axe in his arms.  Ciara wasn't sure why he hadn't shot at them yet.  Even Deirdre's giant stallion wouldn't be a lot of protection against a crossbow.  None of this appeared to worry Deirdre in the slightest, though.  She pushed her stallion's reins into Niamh's hands and crouched low, ready for the charge.
	There was no signal.  Deirdre simply waited until the lynx had completed another circuit of his  patrol and had his back to them, and then she ran.  She didn't make any noise as she ran and she didn't look back to see if Ciara had followed her.  Deirdre was still the faster of the two of them and Ciara was only halfway down the hill when her mother reached her target.
	It was clear was Deirdre's plan was.  She leveled her sword at the small of the lynx's back and held it tight in both hands.  It might even have worked.  The lynx's armor was only a light leather and Deirdre kept her sword very sharp, but Deirdre stumbled before she reached her target and the blade sank into the cat's thigh instead.  He screamed and lurched back away from her, but he still managed to turn on Deirdre and bring his weapon up and the blade sliced across Deirdre's arm.  His second attack was better aimed and it came down straight at Deirdre's head while she was picking herself back up, but now Ciara had reached them and she cannoned into the lynx, which knocked him off balance.
	“I told you to stay the hell back,” Deirdre said.
	“Yes, you did,” Ciara said.
	The lynx swung a third time and Ciara jumped back, pulling her mother along with her.  It was sheer luck that neither of them were hit, though Ciara felt the lynx's arm brush her shoulder.
	“You're just like your damned father.  He never listened to a word I said, either,” Deirdre said.
	She lunged and caught the lynx's arm on his back swing.  Ciara saw the blade of Deirdre's sword cut into the cat's wrist and blood spurted.  The lynx howled again and dropped his weapon to clutch his arm.  Deirdre kicked him in the stomach, and that knocked him flat.
	“Where are Sabia and the child?” Deirdre said.
	The lynx hissed at her, and Deirdre put the tip of her sword against his throat.
	“What makes you think I'd betray my Queen?” the lynx said.
	“I'll cut your throat if you don't,” Deirdre said.
	“You'll do that anyway.  You don't have a choice,” he said.
	“She won't hurt you.  You have my word,” Ciara said.
	The lynx laughed and shook his head, but he never took his eyes off Deirdre.
	“Cute kid.  Passing on the family business, are we?” the lynx said.
	“Don't worry about her.  She's not the one with your life in her hands,” Deirdre said.
	A shadow fell over them, and Fithir put her foot on the cat's chest.  She had his crossbow in her hands and she aimed it at his head.
	“Tell me where my daughter is,” Fithir said.
	Ciara couldn't see Fithir's expression, but she could see the look of terror that passed over the lynx's face.
	“There are laws.  Prisoners get fair treatment,” he said.
	“Out here, nobody's going to know, and I doubt anyone will ever care what happens to you,” Fithir said.
	Ciara glanced at Deirdre, but her mother hadn't budged.  She hadn't been brought up to think laws were important.
	“You won't catch up to Sabia before she reaches Blackpool.  She's smarter than that,” the lynx said.
	“No, I suppose we won't.  She's willing to sacrifice all her pawns to get what she wants,” Deirdre said.
	The lynx clutched his wounded wrist like he was just feeling it for the first time and he groaned a little with the pain.
	“I swore to serve my Queen with my life.  Even if she is making a mistake,” he said.
	The crossbow was steady in Fithir's hands but Ciara doubted that she would really shoot their prisoner.  In some ways, Sabia was right.  Fithir wasn't ruthless enough to be Queen of Cearnach.  When it came down to a real fight, she was too soft.
	It was Deirdre who acted first.  She knelt down beside the lynx and took a silver vial from a pouch at her belt.
	“Thank your God I'm better than all the stories would have you believe,” Deirdre said.
	She shook a couple of small white pills out into her palm and held them out.  The lynx opened his mouth and she dropped the pills onto his tongue.  The cat swallowed and, after a couple of minutes, Ciara saw him relax.  Deirdre stayed at his side until his eyes glazed and drifted closed.
	“Help me move him off the road,” Deirdre said.
	When Ciara didn't move, Deirdre looked up at her.  Ciara had hoped to hide the horror she felt at what Deirdre had done, but she could never keep anything from her mother.
	“Was that necessary?” Ciara said.
	“He's better off,” Deirdre said.
	“Is he?  None of this is his fault, you didn't have to kill him,” Ciara said.
	“They're only opium drops.  He'll be out for a day, maybe two if he takes the rest of the box, but that's all,” Deirdre said.
	Fithir knelt down to take the boy's feet and she and Deirdre moved him away to a cluster of bushes some distance from the road.  Ciara plucked a handful of grass and used it to clean Deirdre's sword.  It was an old habit that went almost as far back as she could could remember, but the routine was comforting and it gave her something to do until Deirdre came back.  When Deirdre dropped to her knees and put her arms around Ciara's shoulder, Ciara flinched from her, but Deirdre held on tight.
	“Would you have killed him?  If you thought there was no other way?” Ciara said.
	“Only in combat.  I do have some honor left, you know, and I'm not going to murder children just because they took an oath to someone,” Deirdre said.
	“And when he wakes up?”
	“He won't remember anything, even his own name.  That's one of the side effects of those pills,” Deirdre said.
	“I thought they were illegal,” Ciara said.
	“Only in your fair city, my dear.  Your rabbits have always had the luxury of civilization, but the rest of us are only just catching on,” Deirdre said.
	Niamh came down from the top of the hill leading Mouse and Thirteen, with the other horses following the herd.  Deirdre grabbed her stallion's reins to mount up again, until Niamh caught her wrist instead.
	“You've hurt your arm,” Niamh said.
	Deirdre's arm was still bleeding a little from the cut the lynx's axe had given her.  The wound wasn't deep, and Niamh was able to staunch the bleeding with a piece of gauze and a bandage she fished out of her saddlebag.  Deirdre put up with Niamh's attention with poorly concealed impatience, but Ciara gave her wife an encouraging smile.
	“At least one of us has the sense to think ahead,” Ciara said.
	“It's not difficult, when you know what foxes are like.  I only hope I've brought enough bandages,” Niamh said.
	Deirdre smiled then and she looked at Ciara over the top of Niamh's head.
	“Has she always been this much of a smart-ass?” Deirdre said.
	“You have no idea,” Ciara said.
	Niamh slapped Ciara on the arm, but she grinned at both of them.
	“That's something else I picked up from foxes,” Niamh said.
	Once Deirdre was patched up, they continued on their way.  They rode in a closer formation now, to keep anyone from getting lost, but Fithir pushed them all the harder to make up for lost time.  They held their horses at a gallop for nearly an hour, in spite of Ciara's protests that it wasn't good for them.  Thirteen seemed to enjoy the run, though.  She responded easily to all of Ciara's commands and not even her rivalry with Deirdre's stallion dampened the yellow mare's spirits.  Mouse, who was smaller than the other horses, was less pleased.  She didn't give Niamh any trouble, but she snapped at any horse who got too close and Ciara was sure the pony kept shooting evil glances at her.
	They rode the rest of the day without meeting anyone else.  After the last war the trade routes had shifted, as they sometimes did, and almost nobody used this road anymore.  Ciara was just as glad.  Fending off Sabia's soldiers would be hard enough without having to worry about putting anyone else in danger.
	That evening, they camped underneath a stunted oak that grew by itself in the middle of the plain.  Ciara cooked their supper, vegetable soup in deference to Niamh's tastes, which made Deirdre and Fithir grumble, but they ate their share readily enough when it was dished out.  There was nothing, in Ciara's experience, that worked up an appetite like travel.  After supper they checked their saddles and gear, and Ciara examined each horse for lost shoes or damage to their hooves.  Then Fithir spread her bedroll out under the tree while Deirdre took the first watch.  Nobody asked her to, but Ciara knew her mother wanted to do it.  It was how she knew she was still useful.
	“She might be retired, but she'll never quit,” Niamh said.
	“She wouldn't know what to do with herself,” Ciara said.
	“No kidding.  I haven't seen your mother look this happy in months,” Niamh said.
	“I know, and it scares me.  It was hard enough to get her to settle in Oseille for as long as she did.  Once she gets the taste of her old life again, there might not be any turning her back again,” Ciara said.
	The two of them sat by the campfire for a while, as the moon rose and Ciara worried at a cracked claw.  Then, once Fithir was asleep and Deirdre was distracted with her guard duties, Niamh took Ciara's hand and led her a little way away from the tree.  It was a warm night and the moon was full and bright.  Whatever Queen Sabia might have in mind, it didn't matter for one more night.  Niamh spread their blanket out on the grass and pulled Ciara down to lie beside her.  Ciara melted into her kiss, but her ears drooped slightly when they parted.
	“Well, welcome to the honeymoon, bunny.  This wasn't exactly what I had in mind,” Ciara said.
	“Hush now.  None of this is your fault, and it's not like I didn't know what I was letting myself in for when I fell in love with you,” Niamh said.
	“No, but I'm selfish.  We've been so busy for so long and I wanted you all to myself for a couple of weeks,” Ciara said.
	“You'll get them, I promise.  In the meantime, will a couple of hours do instead?” Niamh said.
	Niamh kissed her and, for Ciara, the rest of the world faded away.