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“Yet?” a new voice asked darkly.

“Yet,” Ivan confirmed.

The atmosphere was suddenly tense, and Balkis looked up, uneasy and forgetting to swallow.

“When?” Michael asked.

“They gave no hint,” Ivan answered, “but for myself, I will lead no more caravans to the east this year.”

“What profits will you find, then?” Ilya argued.

“I will sell half my silks and spices here in Novgorod, of course,” Ivan said, “then buy beads of amber and furs of sable. With those, and the rest of my silks and spices, I shall lead a caravan south and west, to Warszawa and Krakow in Poland, then farther west to Praha in Bohemia or north to Sachsburg in Bavaria.”

Balkis had no idea where those strange-sounding places were, but she grasped the idea that they were farther from the horsemen of the steppes, and resolved that when Master I van’s mules plodded west, she would be riding them.

It was a long journey through birch forests, and at night she stayed close by the campfire, for the darkness teemed with smells very much like those of the horrid beasts of Novgorod, whom she had learned were called “dogs.” But the woods also teemed with mice and other small rodents, and she was able to lay quite a collection of gifts out for her merchant and drivers every morning. They rewarded her with scraps of many different meats, for they trapped and hunted for their dinners as often as they could; fresh meat was far better than the salt pork they carried with them. Balkis became quite a connoisseur of wildlife. Now and again, though, the traders would camp by a river and sieve the water with nets to catch their dinners. They would lay slivers of fish by Balkis, but at one sniff, something within her revolted against it, and she contented herself with mice, which were, after all, quite tasty, if one happened to be a cat at the moment. There were certainly enough of them.

There were bandits in those woods, and twice the drivers had to fight them off with staff and steel. Balkis burrowed in between bolts of silk when that happened, but stuck her head out and watched with wide eyes as axes swung against swords and men fell with arrows sticking in them. One of the drivers was killed and several others wounded, but the bandits fled as soon as they realized the merchant and his men were no easy targets. After all, what were cloth, spices, and furs against one’s own life?

All in all, Balkis was quite relieved when they came out of the forest into broad plains, which were far nicer, for there were fewer of the doglike smells, but a host of mice coming to gnaw their way through the panniers to the spices within. There were also fewer streams. Somehow Balkis knew that it was wrong for a cat to dislike fish, but there it was, she couldn’t stand the thought of eating one of the scaly aliens, and that was that. She did enjoy watching them, though, as they flashed golden and silver beneath the surface of the water. Now and again she dangled her paw in to play, but they never seemed gamesome when she was about.

At last they came to Warszawa, a city like Novgorod in many ways but unlike it in many others. A good number of the buildings were fashioned of brick or stone, for example, and fewer people wore fur or heavy woolen cloth. There were many who spoke a strange guttural language, moreover. Listening under the tables, Balkis learned that those people were called “Allustrians.”

Master Ivan sold half of his remaining silks and spices, and with the gold he gained, bought so much more of Polish goods that he had to add three more mules to his string. In the taverns the talk was again of buying and selling, and there were a great number of worried questions about the barbarians. Master Ivan was in great demand, and so were his drivers. The other merchants did not seem happy to hear that the barbarians intended to ride west eventually, and there was much speculation as to how close they would venture. Would they come to Warszawa, or even to Sachsburg? No one knew, of course, but everyone guessed the worst, and a sense of doom thickened the atmosphere. All in all, Balkis was relieved when the mules ambled out of the city, and quite happy to be back on the plains again.

The land sloped upward gradually, until Balkis found herself looking at huge wooded hills ahead of her. They climbed into those hills, and she was greatly surprised to see the hillside shorn away into slabs of rock, cliffs adorned with ivy and creepers, slanting down to a broad river below. They were into wooded country again, and the rank smells of dogs-but worse filled the night once more—but so did the calming calls of tree-spirits, whom the foolish men seemed unable to hear.

“What creature is that, who fairly glows with the traces of fairy magic?”

“It is only a cat, sister. Go back to sleep.”

“Sleep! When her every breath bears the perfume of distant dryads?”

“It does indeed. Fear not, little one. No wolf shall come near you. We shall protect you.”

And Balkis dozed through the nights, secure in the love and protection of the magical spirits.

Only dozed—she was quick to waken at the slightest sound of gnawing, and quicker to pounce. The forest spirits certainly felt no need to protect the mice who gnawed out dens beneath their own roots.

At last the forest gave way to river-meadow, and there, with steeple and tower gleaming above the waters in the morning sunshine, stood the city of Sachsburg.

Balkis looked about her with great interest as the caravan trailed through the gate and into the town. There was as much building with stone and brick as in Warszawa, but houses and inns were faced with stucco between the beams that held them up. The streets were cobbled, and though dogs ran barking after the mules as before, there was also the scent of many, many cats, some with a musky overtone that Balkis found exciting, though she could not say why. Still, some wariness within her held her aloof; she did not go out at night to find other felines. Somehow she knew they were not really her own kind. She stayed instead with her drivers and her merchant, and listened under the table.

“A toast to journey’s end!” cried Master Ivan.

“Journey’s end!” cried the drivers. Wooden tankards clacked against one another, and men drank deeply.

“How long shall we stay in Sachsburg?” Omar asked. “A month, I think,” Master Ivan said. “It shall take me some time to discover what Allustrian goods to buy, after all, and we can use the rest.”

“With our wages in our pockets? Be sure we can!” Sandar said, grinning.

The other men all roared approval, and Master Ivan grinned through his beard—but when they had quieted a bit, he said, “Remember your wives, my lads.”

“I shall buy mine a necklace and needles,” Omar avowed, “and some skeins of Flemish wool.”

“Then home to Novgorod?” asked Menchin.

Master Ivan nodded. “First to Krakow, I think-but then home, yes.”

Amidst their feet, Balkis thought of the horse-riding barbarians, and decided that when they left for home, they would leave without her.

Accordingly, a month later, she perched atop a pannier as the caravan left the city, but as it plunged into the forest again, she hopped down and dashed away among the trees. She watched the last mule sway away down the track with Omar beside it on horseback, and felt a pang of longing, a sudden surge of loneliness.

Then a barky hand touched her with a feather-light caress.

CHAPTER 2

Balkis tensed beneath that touch, but a melodious voice said, “Fear not, little one. You have the aura of dryad-magic all about you, and that is reason enough to take you to our hearts.”

Balkis mewed her thanks as she looked up into a brown and resin-painted face beneath a crown of green needles, and knew that wherever she roamed, she would always be home.