In the City of Cats

Part 07

	They rode the rest of the way to Blackpool in peace.  It was just after dawn on their fourth day on the road when they crested the final hill and looked down at the dark walls of the City of Cats.  The blue banners still flew as Ciara remembered them, though they were tattered and worn now.  There were several deep cracks in the wall behind them and the gate was brand new and made of rough, unfinished wood.  The gate stood wide open and there were no guards on the walls.  Ciara could smell breakfast cooking from inside the city and when she cocked her ears she could hear the quiet murmur of people waking up.
	“Nice of them to leave their defenses down for us,” Ciara said.
	“The five of us are hardly a threat to anyone,” Fiachra said.
	“That's what they think,” Fithir said.
	Fithir led the charge, such as it was.  The Queen of Cearnach urged her horse into a gentle trot, just like they were going to be welcomed into Blackpool with open arms.  After a moment's hesitation, Ciara clucked her tongue at Thirteen and the yellow mare fell in behind Fithir's horse.  Niamh and Fiachra brought up the rear and Ciara hoped they'd have the sense to run in there was any trouble.  She and Deirdre could handle themselves in a serious fight, but she worried about Fithir.  The young Queen had the spirit for it and she'd handled herself well in the scuffle the other night, but Ciara knew she'd be in over head in a real fight.  Niamh could be frightening if she was pushed far enough, but she wasn't a real fighter, either and, here, her temper would only get her killed.
	“I don't like this quiet.  After all her tricks, Sabia wouldn't just let us walk in,” Deirdre said.
	“The spider isn't afraid of a few flies,” Niamh said.
	“You're a real comfort to have around, you know?  Let's try to stay positive, shall we?” Deirdre said.
	Niamh urged Mouse as close to Thirteen as the little mare dared to get and she gave Ciara a weak smile.
	“You won't try anything clever, will you?” Niamh said.
	“She's my daughter.  She knows how to behave,” Deirdre said.
	“Oh, yes.  It's stupid of me to worry, isn't it?  After all, I should know by now that a Lohan vixen will act sensibly when she thinks she's in trouble,” Niamh said.
	They had nearly reached the gates when a shout went up behind them.  The top of the city walls sprouted dozens of guards, all armed with longbows, and when Ciara got Thirteen turned around she found their escape had been cut off by more soldiers closing in a ring around them.  Queen Sabia herself rode at their head, mounted on Deirdre's lost stallion.  The horse bore a fresh brand on his rump and Deirdre's old tack had been replaced by a black leather saddle and bridle chased with silver leaf.
	“How kind of you to come for a visit.  A pity you didn't write ahead, or I might have prepared a warmer welcome for you,” Sabia said.
	Fithir drew her sword and leaped down off her horse to face the entire Blackpool army by herself.
	“You have my daughter.  Give her back to me now, or we will tear you apart,” Fithir said.
	“Just the five of you?  Have sense.  Come in and have some tea, and let's not do anything rash,” Sabia said.
	“Where's Brigit?” Fithir said.
	Deirdre slipped down from Thirteen's back and went to stand next to Fithir's horse.  She put a hand on the elder vixen's shoulder and Ciara could see that Deirdre was trembling.  Deirdre had never shown fear this clearly before and Ciara felt sick to her stomach to see it.
	“We've made it this far.  We'll find your daughter.  But right now we need to be patient,” Deirdre said.
	Fithir and Deirdre still wore their leather armor, but it wouldn't be any good against an arrow in the stomach.  The rest of them wore only their regular clothes.  Ciara slipped down from Thirteen's back and went to stand on Fithir's other side.
	“Let's just take it easy, okay?” Ciara said.
	“I don't think either one of you have any room to talk,” Fithir said.  But she did lower her sword a little and Ciara saw the soldiers around Sabia relax.
	“You shall be my guests.  I'll put you up in the finest rooms in the castle and see to it your every need is met.  On the condition that the younger Miss Lohan will take supper with me this evening,” Sabia said.
	“As you like, only promise no harm will come to my family,” Ciara said.
	Sabia smiled in what she probably meant as a reassuring way, but there were far too many teeth in her grin for Ciara's taste.
	“My dear child, if I was going to hurt anyone don't you think I'd do it here and now instead of wasting time being civil?  It's good to see you're smart enough to be wary, but really!  I think we know each other well enough to have a little trust, don't we? Sabia said.
	“If we were all fools,” Deirdre said.
	“Then let's be fools together.  I could use a drink and I imagine you'd like one, too, General,” Sabia said.
	The insides of Deirdre's ears flushed red with embarrassment and she bared her teeth at Sabia, but the old cat just laughed and waved them all toward the city.

	Blackpool Castle was every bit as cold and damp as Ciara remembered.  She and Niamh were given their own room, at Sabia's insistence, complete with a bottle of expensive wine, a bath and a thick purple carpet on the floor.  The room was quite comfortable, except for the heavy iron bars across the window and the guard outside the door.
	“You aren't really going to go to supper with her, are you?” Niamh said.
	“I don't think she'll give me a choice.  Besides, maybe I can talk to her.  There has to be a way in to the rest of the castle,” Ciara said.
	“I don't know.  There's something queer about her I can't quite put my finger on,” Niamh said.
	“She seemed like her old self to me, but I was too busy trying to keep Fithir from getting skewered to pay much attention.  Lynxes are all insane,” Ciara said.
	“Fithir has certainly come out of her shell since last year,” Niamh said.
	“Yes.  She became a queen so I wouldn't have to.  I wonder, sometimes, if I'll ever be able to forgive myself for that,” Ciara said.
	Ciara sat on the bed, which was the most comfortable piece of furniture in the room, and she pried the cork out of the wine bottle.  There weren't any glasses, so the two of them took turns drinking straight from the bottle.
	“It doesn't make sense for her to kidnap Fithir's daughter,” Niamh said.
	“Of course it does, that's the easy part.  She wanted revenge,” Ciara said.
	“Against Fithir?  You were the one who humiliated her.  She could have grabbed you and gotten away before anyone in Oseille could have had time to blink,” Niamh said.
	“That wouldn't have been as much fun.  She wants to pick a fight, and Fithir is just the lady to give her one,” Ciara said.
	“Do you really think so?  She always struck me as more sensible than that,” Niamh said.
	Ciara took a long drink of wine and shivered.  She could still see the look of utter hatred on Fithir's face when they turned to face the Lynx Queen.  She couldn't imagine what it was like to harbor such hatred for anyone.
	“You'd just better know what you're doing tonight.  And come back to me,” Niamh said.
	“I gave my word to protect you, now didn't I?  Anyway, Sabia isn't going to hurt me over supper.  What fun would that be?” Ciara said.
	They finished the wine by the time Sabia's guard knocked on the door.  Ciara rose, feeling a bit light-headed from the drink, and she opened the door and pushed out into the hall, past the guard, in a single, determined move.  The lynx blinked at her and let his hand fall to the dagger on his belt.
	“You must come with me,” he said.
	“I have been here before.  I know the way,” Ciara said.
	In fact, the room she and Niamh were in was only a few feet down the hall from where Sabia had locked them up last time.  As they passed it, Ciara smiled to see that the bars on the window were still broken.  She let the soldier guide her because they got so nervous if they didn't feel like they were in control, but the castle hadn't changed a bit, except that there were fewer tapestries on the walls and more water on the floor.  Ciara could have found her way to Sabia's chambers with her eyes shut.
	The doors to Sabia's chambers were open and, when she saw Ciara outside, the old queen gave her a smile  Sabia held a small bundle of cloth in her arms, and Ciara realized it must be Brigit.  There was a scent in the air that reminded her of home and a tuft of rusty fur poked out of the top of the cloth.
	“Do come in, Princess.  Make yourself comfortable.  Dinner will be served out on the patio in just a moment,” Sabia said.
	The door clicked closed behind them and Ciara was alone with the Queen of Blackpool.  Ciara felt a stab of fear and she bit the side of her tongue, in the vain hope that Sabia wouldn't notice.  The old cat was well into her sixties now and she looked rather more frail than she had the last time Ciara had seen her, but that didn't make her any less dangerous.
	“Give me my sister.  You've never harmed the innocent before,” Ciara said.
	“Half-sister.  And she's the wrong half, too, isn't she?  What do you think is going to happen to you when Daddy's little heir grows up?” Sabia said.
	“Do you think that matters?  I've already got everything I want in Oseille.  Now, you're going to give her to me and then we're going home,” Ciara said.
	“What do you understand of family?  Look at Deirdre.  She's a brilliant soldier, I'll give her that, but she's a complete fuck-up at being a mother.  You're just the same as she is, and you know it.  You'd have turned your back on all of them if it hadn't been for me,” Sabia said.
	“Queen Fithir is not my mother.  Or me,” Ciara said.
	“No, she isn't.  God help you, every one of you are trying to be something you're not,” Sabia said.
	A bell rang outside and a pair of lynxes Ciara hadn't even noticed pulled a pair of elaborate  doors open at the far end of the room.  The patio was actually a wide balcony that jutted out from the side of the castle.  It was an uncharacteristic display of luxury for a city that prided itself so much on its military starkness.  The balcony was lined all the way around with an intricate iron lattice threaded with flowers.  A large table was set in the middle of the patio and it was loaded down with platters of meat and elegant pots of soup.  There was even a small salad set by one plate, which Ciara guessed was Sabia's idea of a joke.
	“You do know that the whole Cearnach army is on its way here right now, don't you?” Ciara said.
	“Of course.  Foxes have no sense of humor,” Sabia said.
	“You won't be able to fight them, not this time.  Your city is crumbling, your defenses are a joke.  They're going to walk right over top of you,” Ciara said.
	Sabia sat at the table and nodded at a nearby lynx who piled food on her plate.  A second cat did the same for Ciara, in spite of her efforts to shoo him away.
	“I have their queen, and her darling daughter.  I have you, too.  They won't do anything I don't want them to,” Sabia said.
	“I won't let you hurt my sister.  If you know me as well as you think, you know how far I'll go to keep my family safe,” Ciara said.
	She just caught the look of fear that flashed across Sabia's face.  The old lynx drew Brigit closer to her, wrapping her arms protectively around the child.  This woke Brigit up and she began to cry, until one of Sabia's lynxes brought a bowl of milk and a rag to the table.  Sabia soaked a corner of the rag in the milk and tucked it gently into Brigit's mouth.
	“You should be more concerned for yourself, Princess.  The child is mine,” Sabia said.
	“Why?  Fithir never did anything to harm you, either.  Let her take her daughter home and I'll stay here in Brigit's place,” Ciara said.
	Sabia snorted and fed Brigit a little more milk.
	“You've got it all wrong, my dear.  I don't want a hostage, and you're far too old to be any good to me.  Blackpool needs an heir and I intend to see my city is left in good hands,” Sabia said.
	“It's too late for that.  You had Alana, but you cared more about your fight with my father than you did about her.  Brigit could never replace her, no matter what you do,” Ciara said.
	Sabia slammed a fist down on the table, which spilled soup in Ciara's lap and made Brigit start crying again.
	“I spent thirty years on that girl and she never understood what I tried to tell her.  None of you do.  You have to be ruthless to survive,” Sabia said.
	She stripped Brigit's blankets away and held the child up, naked, in the sunlight.  There was no question that Brigit was Connor's child, with her father's bright, rusty fur and strong build and slender limbs.  She was everything Ciara knew her father wished she could have been.  Then, Ciara saw what Sabia wanted her to see.  Brigit's tail had been removed, cut down to nothing more than a small stub that looked just like a lynx's tail.  In spite of her better judgment, anger exploded in Ciara's chest and she leaped across the table with a wordless shout, her hands reaching for Sabia's throat.  The lynxes who had served them dinner grabbed Ciara before she could reach her goal and they dragged her back, twisting her arms behind her back while Sabia sat and smiled.
	“You heartless butcher.  You destroy everything you touch,” Ciara said.
	“You think so?  But I won't fail with Brigit the way I did with Alana.  She'll grow up strong, and her name will be remembered long after you and I have faded from history.  You'll be proud of her, Princess,” Sabia said.
	Ciara lunged against the hands that held her and she had the satisfaction of seeing Sabia flinch.
	“I will take her from you, and we will all go back home.  There's no way you can stop me,” Ciara said.
	“You have your father's spirit, my dear.  The harder you try to fight against it, the more it shows through.  It's fortunate for me you take after him in other ways, too,” Sabia said.
	As the lynxes dragged Ciara to the door, Sabia wrapped Brigit back up in her blanket.  Even through her anger, Ciara noted how gently the old cat handled her sister.