At the gate, superior numbers won the day, and the Mongols died to a man, each still screaming his war-cry. When all lay still, the Arabs stood glaring down at them, chests heaving. As the heat of battle cooled, first one, then many, lifted their swords in grudging salute.
“They are fearless,” said one soldier, “and mighty fighters, when they are horsed.”
Even the Caliph came down to pay homage to worthy enemies. “Lay their bodies upon the slope outside the gate,” he commanded, “so that their fellows may bear them away during the night. When all are laid out as befits warriors, play a dirge from the wall to do them honor.”
He turned away, but his chief wizard fell into step beside him and said, “They are mighty warriors, as you say, lord. How shall we hold the city against so many of them?”
“With faith in Allah,” the Caliph answered, “and hope that my governors can bring their armies while we can still hold off these barbarians.”
Matt always tried to go spying without his friend Stegoman the Dragon. True, the mighty beast was worth an army of bodyguards, and was excellent transportation as well as very good company—but he did tend to make a man somewhat conspicuous, and when you were trying to pick up gossip from roadside inns, that could be a noticeable handicap. Stegoman could definitely be classed as a conversation stopper.
Matt did, however, ride a horse, which automatically boosted him a social class or two higher than the average citizens he usually wanted to listen to—but he needed speed first, and didn’t really need to eavesdrop until he reached the Holy Land. There, he could sell the horse if he had to, but he couldn’t sell a dragon, and Stegoman was very hard to send away for more than a night or two.
In spite of his reassurances to Alisande, Matt did feel a lifting of the soul as the skyline of the capital city fell below the horizon. For a few months now he would be free of his daily responsibilities and liberated from the intrigues and social infighting of the court, which sometimes made him so heartsick he was tempted to give everybody a magical brainwashing. So far he had always resisted, out of respect for free will if nothing else. Out here on the open road, though, it was emotionally clean if physically dusty, and the sweep of the countryside made the air seem fresher.
Unfortunately, the countryside was still sweeping when the sun set. Matt resigned himself to a night in the open. He chose a campsite just off the road, under some pine trees near a brook. Tethering his horse in the middle of plenty of rich green grass, he unsaddled and combed the beast, then decided to cut some boughs for a mattress while there was still twilight. He reached into his saddlebag for his camp hatchet.
Warm fur moved against his fingers.
Matt snatched his hand out, stifling a curse, then opened the saddlebag wide and turned it so he could see in.
Two large pointed ears pushed up over the rim, then two large slit-pupiled eyes in a round brindle head. Balkis opened her mouth and meowed reproach at him.
Matt stared.
Then he laughed and held out cupped hands. “Wanted to go adventuring, huh? Well, hop out and help pitch camp!”
Balkis hurdled over the side of the saddlebag and into his hands, then cuddled against his chest, purring like a nutmeg grater.
Matt fondled her head. “Now, why would you want to go to the discomfort of being crammed into that saddlebag all day?” He asked the question with a lighthearted note, but his nasty suspicious nature was working overtime. Not only had this cat stowed away, which was rather uncatlike behavior, but she had also managed to lie still and stay quiet, which spoke of either absolute terror or a degree of self-control that was unbelievable in an animal—and Matt didn’t think he was all that terrifying. “This isn’t the job you signed up for, you know. You were supposed to be a babysitter.”
Balkis looked up indignantly, as though to say any actual job would be beneath her dignity.
Matt met her eyes, staring straight into them. Balkis stiffened in irritation and glared back at him, as though affronted by the temerity of any mere human who might try to outstare a cat.
Sure that she wouldn’t look away, Matt crooned,
The cat’s stare glazed; he could see her natural independence struggling against his spell, and wondered which would win.
Then Balkis opened her mouth, beginning with a yawn that developed into a meowing tone that shaped itself into words:
Then she sat in his arms, glaring defiantly, every muscle tensed to spring and run.
Matt just stared, mind racing—talking cats just didn’t happen. This creature was more than she seemed.
He took a deep breath. “So. You won’t be taking my orders to explain why you came along.”
“A spell to counter a spell,” Balkis mewed. “How could I have told without words?”
“Cats have always found ways to make their wishes known.” Matt didn’t bother mentioning that the next spell would have given her the power of speech she already had.
Balkis turned her head, eyeing him sideways. “You seem to know a great deal about our breed.”
“My mother had a knack of taking care of strays,” Matt explained. “She wouldn’t let them into the house, but she had a very lively backyard.” He didn’t mention that she had also been very careful about letting the family cocker spaniel out.
“I knew there was reason for liking her,” Balkis purred.
“There surely is,” Matt agreed. “So who taught you how to talk?”
“My sire and dam,” Balkis replied flippantly.
“Very unusual cats,” Matt said. “Whoever taught them must have taught you a bit of magic.”
“I can cast simple spells,” Balkis said, her eyes wary.
“Look, you had a really soft berth set up in the castle,” Matt pointed out. “Why come along to share the discomforts and dangers of the road with me?”
“I am no stranger to the road,” Balkis told him, “and I doubt there will truly be much danger.”
“Then you should pay a bit more attention to the reports of the barbarians who’re invading the Arabian empire. That still doesn’t explain why you would leave a full food bowl and a soft cushion to come camping.”
“Do you dislike my company?” Balkis challenged.
“I’ve learned to value solitude,” Matt said, then tried a different tack. “Why did you come to Merovence?”
“Because I learned that you have a much more favorable attitude toward females than I would find in my homeland,” Balkis replied.
So she wasn’t a native. That explained the exotic look. “What homeland was that?”
“Allustria.”
Matt frowned; Allustria favored the alley variety of feline, not rare breeds. “You were born in Allustria?”
“I grew up there,” Balkis prevaricated.
Matt decided to let the question of origins alone for the moment. “Why did you come to the castle?”
Balkis turned shifty-eyed. “I heard the queen had children, and where there are little ones, a cat will be welcome.”
“Seems you know a lot about people,” Matt said. “Okay, so you played patty-paw and got yourself a soft berth with my very understanding mother and my overworked wife. Why leave it all to come along with me?”