Chapter 12: Carabas and the Tour of the City
The tromp of guard boots! The others will filled with indecision, if not apprehension, a thousand different plans from “flee” to “fight” crossing their faces.
But when faced with such danger, a true hero hesitates not! “Now see how a Catling does it!” I called out to my friends, then bounded forward to the fray!
Ah! I hear you say that, no matter how doughty the heart, no matter how quick the limbs and paws and eyes, not even the bravest of heroes can overcome a dozen bigs in battle!
Well, perhaps yes, perhaps no – but only if you consider overcoming to be a straight-out duel of steel and claw and blood. If your goal is to distract, to harry, to keep busy, to lead upon a merry chase … then there is no better at the task than a Catling!
So leapt I into the center of their formation, and, having seen how the people seemed oddly mistrusting of Rowan, taunted them with a jaunty, “Ha-ha! The Knight of the Harbingers is upon you!” Capped off with a second, jaunty, “Ha-ha!”
Thus drawing their attention to me – where it rightly belonged, even if it needed a nudge – I took them on just such a merry chase, up and down and around the town. Sometimes I jeered from overhead, other times tweaked their courage from under their feet. Clothes lines and ladders, passing carts and flower boxes, all served as springboards, hiding places, and podiums for pinpricks to their inadequacies, even for the typical humans, as city guards.
Indeed, all of them were easily gulled, diddled, and drawn back and forth across the neighborhood and up and down the town (as I said), save for a young human girl named Rumi, who seemed far brighter, more agile, and certainly more persistent than her fellows. She very nearly caught me at one point, and when I turned to give her a gallant bow and be on my way, she asked, “Why are they chasing you?”
“I fear for what they might do to my friends.”
“They are normally nice people … but they aren’t nice now. The major is making people do not nice things. Are you with them?”
I assured her, “No, I am here to save the city, be the hero, and fight against the bad guys!” In her apprehension she seemed to need special reassurance of this. Having done so, I made my departure.
Still, the encounter was of value, not just as an interlude to teach the human children of the city about the bravery and nobility of Catlings, but for what she had revealed. There was, as I had suspected, a fell enchantment upon this town and its people, such that even if they were won over by the sincerity of our sentiments, or my own personal charm, they could not be trusted.
As the chase went on, I continued to make mock of the guards, drawing them further and further (I hoped, for we had not had time to plan it) from my friends. To my amazement, Rumi kept showing up unexpectedly and asking questions. As the numbers of pursuers grew – not just the majoral guard who had come after us, but more proper city guards and even some city folk – it became more of a challenge to satisfy her queries with a smile and courtesy than before. Of course, I did so, which I consider perhaps my greatest accomplishment of that day.
“Who are those other people you ride with?”
“The man in the robe, is he a wizard?”
“Why do you have so many horses?”
“Do you even ride a horse?”
So persistent was she in both her questioning and pursuit of me that it occured she must be a Catling in spirit, perhaps some poor soul that, for their sins, was cast into a non-Catling body, but retained our essential inquisitive and clever nature.
As I found myself (and, increasingly, I considered it “ourselves,” as the girl was now almost a constant companion) reaching into the southern reaches of the city, roiled in fog and mists, I heard a whisper in the wind from Rowan, that they were heading into the tunnels under the city, and to meet them there.
We had at last shake the pursuit, and were in the neighborhood known as the Fog Walk, which Rumi indicated was someplace she’d rather not be, preferring the sunnier places in the Twin Nests. She followed this up asking about the fog and my fur and my predilictions for lying in the sun, which were interrupted by some rather loutish characters who came upon us – neighborhood bravos and ne’er-do-wells. I promptly bamboozled them by suggesting I was a tourist of the city, the girl (whom I dared not leave to their rough devices) my official city tour guide. In this I thought myself particularly clever, as it put us under the protection of the city government (such as it was) and allowed me to ask about the tunnels under the city in a nonchalant and beguiling fashion.
The toughs all disavowed knowledge of any such thing, but seemed taken in by my assumed personality and lost interest in causing us trouble. Save, I spotted with a sharp eye, a pair of them who were chatting together in a most suspicious fashion, giving us glances, before one took off with obvious purpose.
I made our apologies to the people around us, and we headed off together at an oblique angle. The question was, should I seek out those tunnels at this point? Or find a safer spot to leave off my new companion? Or pursue the bravo who had lit out from there, perhaps to report to more dire companions?
All paths led toward danger! Which would I choose, and how would it lead to the final defeat of the Overlord? Let’s find out together!