Cats Triumphant

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Authors: Jody Lynn Nye
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father’s farm. They seemed curious, independent, brave and cowardly at the same time, taking their business and pleasure equally seriously, just like people. But she’d never taken the time to talk to one, assuming their comprehension was limited to their own language. This one listened carefully, her orange-striped head cocked to one side, almost as if she understood. Then, to Dawna’s surprise, the cat walked from the fish to the pennant hanging from Dawna’s shield and back again, rubbing up against the mercenary’s knee with each pass. Dawna let the corners of her mouth perk up in amusement.
    “You couldn’t be…hiring me?”
    The cat chirruped again.
    “How can you understand what I said yesterday? How could you possibly know what I do?” The cat gave her a wise look. “What is it you want me to do, then? Protect you? Or you and your babies?”
    It was a test. The cat passed it. She climbed into Dawna’s lap, briefly licked the top of each kitten’s head, then stared up at the warrior again as the kittens burrowed in toward the tabby’s nipples. “By the Gods, I believe you are hiring me. Why not? Very well. It’s a bargain.” She put out a hand to seal the deal, as she did with her human clients, and laughed at herself as the cat sniffed her fingers. “Here, then,” she said formally, unhooking the pennant. “My gage is the symbol of my service. Carry it until my duty to you is discharged.”
    She wound the streamer twice around the cat’s neck, tying the loose ends in a bow. “A bit gaudy with your coloring, my lady, but not too bad.”
    The cat seemed pleased, and began to wash her wet paw. The kittens were well into their morning meal.
    But how to discharge her commission? Dawna thought, pushing the needle through the hard leather. She could hardly follow the cat on her morning rounds, nor shadow her as she stalked vermin. The cat solved the dilemma by departing abruptly from the mercenary’s lap, leaving the now sleeping kittens behind. The mercenary shrugged and went on with her repair.
    As morning began, the smaller children emerged carrying slates and headed toward a house at the opposite corner of the square, where a goodwife was waiting with her hands on her hips: the village schoolteacher. The older children who were apprenticed were already on their way to and fro, discharging commissions for their masters. They all gave her a wary look as they passed her, sitting under the tree in the middle of the green, especially the blond boy whom she had spanked.
    Once in a while the cat returned to feed her kittens. She had decided Dawna’s lap was by far the best place for the job. The butcher passed by with a cart full of meat, saw the red streamer around the cat’s neck, and snorted.
    “How much is it paying you?” he asked.
    “Two fish a day,” Dawna replied. “I’ve had better wages, but I’ve had worse, too.”
    “You’re mad,” the butcher informed her. “That’s the silversmith’s cat. He’ll do as he pleases with her, scarf or no scarf.”
    “If she has the wits to ask for my help, then she’s master of her own fate,” Dawna said.
    Word spread quickly through the small town about her contract with the cat. From her vantage point on the green she could see all the comings and goings. Even the boy, who appeared to be apprenticed to the brewer, gave the orange cat a wide berth as he wheeled kegs of beer up and back from the brewery. The cat strutted, proudly displaying the red scarf around her neck as she went about her business.
    One dark-haired lad did work up the courage to shy a stone at the orange cat. It just missed her, striking dust up from the pathway directly under her belly. The cat levitated in surprise, spun around to glare at her attacker, then she turned and stared directly at Dawna. No doubt remained in the warrior’s mind that the cat understood what she had commissioned. Dawna, grinning, began to rise from her seat under the tree. The boy’s face paled

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