"Shamsara."
He inclined his head. "Minna-Satu."
"Welcome. Sit, if you will." She sank onto a pile of cushions, arranging her skirts about her in a fall of turquoise silk. Gold gleamed at her neck and wrists, surprisingly little adornment for a queen. As he settled himself, a handmaiden entered with a tray upon which rested an assortment of goblets. He chose water, and the Queen selected a pale wine. As soon as the maiden left, the Queen set aside her cup and folded her hands.
"I am glad you spared me the journey to your home, Shamsara."
He shrugged. "It is not as fine as yours."
"I would like to see it one day."
"Curiosity killed the cat."
She laughed, a husky, gilded tone. "Not this one."
The wolf lay down with a sigh, resting his muzzle on his paws. Shamsara sipped his water, savouring it as a connoisseur might before setting it aside. A brown field mouse crept from his sleeve to sample it before retreating into its sanctuary again. The Queen started as a slender yellow viper slid from his hair and coiled around his neck. Its presence would startle most, for it was the deadliest snake in the world, and cat people disliked them, he knew. Shamsara smiled, his ageless countenance wrinkling along well-used lines, for he smiled often.
"So, Minna-Satu. You requested my presence, and here I am. What will you ask of me?"
Her face became solemn, belying its youthful beauty. The sand cat stopped purring, and Shamsara missed the deep rumble. He cast the cat a reproachful look, and received a cool stare.
Minna-Satu gazed at him. "How can I stop this eternal, accursed war?"
Shamsara nodded, his smile fading. "Only by a great sacrifice, one that is not easily made by one so young."
"I will make it, if necessary."
"Do not pledge yourself so hastily to a sacrifice you have yet to know."
"Tell me."
Shamsara turned his gaze upon the great cat. "You must die."
Shista sat up in a lithe movement that required the lash of her tail to achieve it. Her eyes fixed upon the Idol of the Beasts, and she rose, her limping gait carrying her to him in a few strides. Imposing herself between him and the Queen, she settled back on her haunches and studied him with alarm and puzzlement.
Shamsara stroked the silken fur of the sand cat's cheek, and her brilliant eyes sought the Queen's.
He followed her gaze. "She loves you very much."
"I know."
"She will kill anyone who tries to harm you."
"What do you mean, I must die? What will that achieve?"
Shamsara sighed, stroking the cat. "If you wish to end the war, your task will not be an easy one. If you do as I say, this will come to pass. But the decision must be yours alone, for yours will be the greatest sacrifice."
"Tell me what I must do."
Chiana waited outside the massive double doors of the Queen's inner chambers for what seemed like an age. Her fingers pleated the material of her new robe, the same dove grey as she had always worn, but now trimmed and belted with gold in accordance with her newly elevated status. Her father, a merchant, had sacrificed much to pay for the many years of study needed to gain the knowledge required to become an advisor to the Queen. The Elder Queen had never noticed her, and her youth had always relegated her to the lesser ranks, for chief advisors were generally elderly. Her meteoric rise to her new post had astonished her, achieved as it had been with such ease, and so unexpectedly. She was well aware that it could just as easily be lost, however, should she displease the Queen.
The doors opened, jerking Chiana from her thoughts, and Shamsara emerged, followed by the Queen. The old man, whose lifetime had spanned many generations, strode briskly forth, the wolf trotting at his heels. Shista brought up the rear, looking unusually alert. Minna stopped before her chief advisor, her face pale but composed.
"Take Shamsara to his rooms and see that he has every comfort, then return to me here."
Chiana bowed to the Idol of the Beasts and led him down a short corridor, opening the doors to a suite of rooms whose walls were hung with tapestries. Rugs woven from the wool of rare antelope covered the floors. Jade and crystal ornaments graced carved stonewood tables, and huge windows gave a panoramic view of the park-like gardens that surrounded the palace. Fresh air scented by puffwood and smoke tree blossoms blew in, and the distant sounds of the city rode upon it.
"If you require anything, ring the bell, Your Grace," she murmured.
Shamsara nodded, strolling towards the windows. Chiana closed the doors and hastened back to the Queen's apartments. The patter of her slippers seemed loud in the corridors’ pillared vastness, adding to the already overwhelming sense of inadequacy that had plagued her since gaining her new position. Minna-Satu sat upon a pile of cushions, gazing ahead with wide eyes, and Shista sat beside her. Chiana prostrated herself, and received the signal to rise.
"Chiana, go at once to the captain of my guard and bid him come to me."
Chiana retreated, frightened by the Queen's distracted air and Shista's obvious agitation. She hurried to the officers' quarters, where she found the captain at his desk, filling in reports. He looked up at her entry, a man of foxes whose shy familiar was rarely seen. Cropped red hair crowned a narrow, clever, sharp-featured face common to his kind, and his quick green eyes missed nothing in their vigilance. The broad stripe of peacock blue that ran down his chest on the right side from shoulder to waist relieved the dark green of his figure-hugging, gold-trimmed uniform, and denoted his rank.
At the Queen's summons, he followed Chiana back through the corridors, his light footsteps ringing on the marble floors. She showed him into the Queen's presence, and would have retreated, but Minna raised a hand.
"Stay, Chiana, this is for you to hear also."
Chiana returned to stand beside the captain, casting a worried glance at Shista, who paced the room by the windows, her pads silent on the rugs.
"Captain," the Queen said, "I have a strange and fearsome task for your men. You will select the best from amongst them, the strongest, bravest and cleverest. You will send them to King Shandor's camp, where they must slay him and bring me his son, unharmed."
Captain Redgard gaped, the shock of this unexpected and momentous announcement momentarily making him break his rigid military stance, then he collected himself and resumed his formal pose. "My Queen. Such a thing… is impossible. If it was not, we would have won the war by such means long ago. The King is guarded night and day by the most seasoned warriors and their familiars, giant cats like your own…"
Minna-Satu raised a slender hand. "Nevertheless, it must be done, and I have charged you with the task. Bring me the Prince, but first make him the King."
"My Queen…" The captain struggled with his words, his expression despairing. "I fear… this shall fail. Almost at every opportunity, our armies have striven to reach the King and slay him, for to do so would demoralise his troops and give us victory until the next King took power. We have never succeeded."
"Then this time you will." Minna's tone brooked no argument, and the captain's shoulders sagged. Still, his courage was admirable, for he rallied again, to Chiana's surprise.
"My Queen, you send good men to their deaths."
"Good men die almost every day, Captain. How many do we lose in a battle?"
He shrugged. "In a good one, perhaps a few score, but on a really bad day, over a thousand have been lost. In the Rout of Ashtolon, we lost five thousand and seven hundred."
"So, I ask you to send only a few, a score, or half a score, enough to do the deed, not defeat Shandor's army. Perhaps several score shall perish before they succeed, but when they do succeed, the end of the war will be nigh, and that will save a good many more lives."