Trouble the Cat Page 2

  For a moment, he put that dream out of his thoughts. This storm-tossed pebble might indeed be a true diamond, but they did not have the leisure to explore that possibility now. Besides, he believed she had detected his awareness and was frightened, a natural enough reaction in the face of the upbringing she had received. Bullies like this Jocko the Farrier rarely cared for any sign of superiority in the weak little things they terrorized.

  He smiled encouragingly. “Go on, Child. I want to hear the rest of this tale. Did you have any problem getting him out?”

  “Not from Trouble. He let me pick him up and just snuggled close to me, like I was the only safety in all the world.”

  Anger flashed suddenly into her eyes, making her appear both older and stronger. “That was when the rope dropped. Jocko was above and had untied it. He shouted that he’d lower another but that he wasn’t going to lift two loads and that I’d have to leave the cat behind.”

  “He what?” Martin hissed.

  Both the girl and Trouble looked swiftly at him, startled by the cold, controlled fury in this seemingly mild man.

  “It was a false threat,” she told him quickly, not wanting to provoke an outburst of anger, even one not directed at her. She was trying to escape such storms. “It’s a busy square like I said and someone would’ve hauled us out in no time. Jocko knew that, too, and anyway, he didn’t want me dead. I did too much work for him. He just thought I’d panic and not figure all that out.”

  Her hands clenched. “I wasn’t scared. I was furious. I’d never been angry like that before in my whole life. He actually tried to make me leave that poor, terrified, trusting little creature to die alone and cold and wet, to make me choose to do it.”

  She gripped herself before she could either fly into a rage or burst into tears. “I don’t know what came over me, except that I was so mad and couldn’t do anything else, but I glared at the rope floating in the water below us, and I shouted at it to go back up, tie itself again, and pull us out.” She swallowed hard. “It did. It did just that.”

  The man drew a long, sharp breath. He glanced at the cat, who was purring softly, seemingly unmoved by his human’s emotion, then his eyes returned to the girl.

  “Had anything like that ever happened to you before?”

  “No, of course not! I didn’t even know such things were possible except in books.”

  “Trouble, was it you?”

  “It was not,” the cat replied half contemptuously. “It was the kitten. Listen to her.”

  “A great many things stranger than that are possible, child,” he said softly. “What was Jocko’s reaction?”

  “Oh, believe that he was mad, but that came later. Right then, he was raw scared that someone might have seen what had happened.”

  “Did anyone?”

  She shook her head. “Not as far as I know. He was lucky there. He’d have been in big trouble if they had. He’s in the Antimagic League, you see. President of the local cell, in fact—”

  “That bunch! Well, from the sound of it, he fits right in with the rest of them.”

  “They’re hard cases, the most of them,” she agreed. “Anyway, he dragged me into the house and started whaling me. I think he’d have half-killed me, but Imelde told him to let me be, that I’d had a fright enough and that I’d brought her the kitten, which she was going to keep.” Her voice softened. “She’d seen, from the way I had been holding him, I suppose, that I loved him. She was sorry for him, too. She said later that he and I were both orphans and should stick together, but we’d have to keep him out of Jocko’s way, which we did between us.

  “After that, things sort of went back to normal, except that Jocko started asking me questions. I was always good at guessing things like what the weather would be or that someone would be coming to the house and maybe even why. Now Jocko wanted to know who’d win a race or fight or something like that, and he’d bet on the name I’d pick. Never much, mind you—I’d often be wrong—but there’d be peace around the house when he did win. I’d get a knock when he lost, of course, but not too hard as such go. He did know I couldn’t control that part of it and let me off easy.”

  She rubbed her ear, and her eyes brightened momentarily. “He might even have done me some good. I don’t make nearly as many mistakes now as I did at first.”

  “The practice did you the good. Knocks do nothing, or they hinder. Talent can’t be forced by abuse.”

  “Talent? It’s not much of one, sir.”

  He smiled. “Big things often start out small.” Martin’s expression darkened again. “You didn’t have ideal living conditions, but it was nothing worse than you’d always known. What caused the break?”

  “Imelde, I guess, though she didn’t mean to,” the girl answered promptly. “You see, she’s the one with the money. Her father thought he had done well in binding her to a tradesman, but when he saw what he’d really gotten for a son-in-law, fair enough to him, he moved to protect her since she didn’t want to leave Jocko.”

  “Some people don’t, no matter how bad their partners are,” he explained in response to the lack of comprehension in her tone. “What did he do for her?”

  “He set up something called a trust. She gets money out of it every three months, but no one can touch the whole lot as long as she’s alive. Jocko’s the laziest man you could meet, sir. He’s a farrier like I said, but he’d much rather sit in the local and talk bull with his friends than work at it. That’s why she’s always been able to keep some control over what goes on in the house provided she doesn’t try to push him too far. He knows full well that she can manage very nicely without him and that he’d lose a comfortable lifeway if she upped and left.

  “He’s always had his fancy ladies, though,” she continued contemptuously, “either stupid little things he can brag to until they see through him or else those who put up with him for pay, but his latest’s something different. She’s young and pretty and too smart not to know she could do a lot better than Jocko. He knows that as well, and he does want to hold onto her. He’s not so young anymore, and he’s not going to attract anyone like her again. Sure, he never could before.

  “Well, Imelde’s no fool, either. She saw what was going on—the whole square did—and she belted off to her father. Imelde told him her story and said that she didn’t want to be worth more dead than alive to anyone. By the time she got back two days later, she had it arranged that the money would all go back to her father if she died without a babe, as seems likely now, or be handled by him or her older brother if she went after having a child. Jocko’d have no part of it at all without her.”

  She shivered. “I thought he’d gone stark mad when he heard. That’s how bad his rage was. He shouted and cursed and slammed his fist against the wall so hard that I hoped he had busted his knuckles, but Imelde didn’t blanch or blink. I’ve never seen her face him better. She just let him rave on, always keeping out of reach, of course. When he’d tired himself out with yelling, before he could start with his fists, she calmly told him that they could either go on as in the past, or she could return to her father. The choice was his. If he kept on creating, that was her answer right there. She was still packed and would just turn around and leave again, and this time, she would not be coming back.” Dory grinned. “He just shut his mouth like it was a trap, and out he went. That was the night before last.”

  She shuddered, and her whole body tensed as if in anticipation of a death blow.

  Trouble left off grooming Jasmine and leaped onto the girl’s lap. He licked her hand and looked up into her face. As he had known she would, she smiled tremulously at the rasping caress and almost unconsciously began stroking him.

  “He didn’t come back until morning,” she continued in a small voice. “He was drunk. Jocko always gets mean when he drinks, and this was about the worst he ever was.

  “I spotted him coming in, and you can lay money down that I stayed up in the attic where I sleep until I thought he’d either g
one to bed or dropped off in the kitchen.” Her hand trembled on the black fur. “I guessed wrong. He was waiting for me.”

  Jasmine picked up her horror and responded with a soft, inquisitive meow, but the male cat only gave a loud, rumbling purr.

  “Go on, Kitten,” he encouraged, although she could not hear him. “You are doing well.”

  Martin, too, read her terror. He reached over and covered her bony hand with his. His grasp was firm, reassuring. Only Trouble, whose back the long fingers also touched, was aware of the strength in them, a power surprising in a scholar who spent his life amongst books, as this human represented himself to be. That could even be true—his mind was that of a seeker—but it was obvious he respected his body as well and knew enough to keep it sound.

  “It’s all right, Little One,” the man said gently. “Take your time and tell it in your own way.”

  He felt sick inside. Was this Jocko the Farrier monster enough to brutalize her sexually as well as with his hands?

  “No. Soon, perhaps, but not yet.”

  His head bowed in relief. “Praise the Most High for that.”

  Dory had used the brief silence to collect her thoughts. “He wanted revenge, but he’s a coward. He didn’t dare take it directly. He thought Imelde loved Trouble, and he’d often heard her say how beautiful and dignified he is, so he ordered me to-to put a pair of donkey’s ears on him. I told him I couldn’t, that I didn’t know what had happened with the rope and that I didn’t know how to do such things, but he wouldn’t listen. He said that if I refused, he’d beat me until I did do it or until I was a pulp, and he meant it, sir. He meant every word of it.”

  “Imelde—”

  She shook her head. “She knows better than to come near Jocko when he’s drunk. So does everyone else, and it’s well known that he’d never done permanent hurt before. By the time anyone’d realized this was different and could interfere, it would’ve been too late for me.”

  “One thing I don’t understand. If he believed you could do that to Trouble, where did he get the nerve to tangle with you himself? You’ve said the man’s a coward.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe he was too potted to think of it.”

  Trouble growled low in his throat and yawned. “Humans! Who cares what moved the beast, anyway? Bullies never think that what they dish out can happen to them.”

  “That’s just as well in this case. He’d have killed her after that rope business if he felt anyway threatened.”

  Once more, he squeezed the girl’s hand. “No matter now. What did you do? Run or stall?”

  “I couldn’t do much of either. I didn’t have time. The door was shut, and he was between me and the window, so escape was out unless I could get him to move, or forget how fast I could run. I planned to say I’d try and then start jumping around and saying strange things and maybe distracting him enough for me to be able to make a dash for the window, but straight away I knew it wouldn’t work. Trouble was still somewhere inside, you see, and I couldn’t leave him. Jocko’d be sure to kill him outright or do something even worse if I did.

  “I was scared, shaking scared, but I was angry, too, when I thought of him. Look at Trouble, sir. He’s a prince, more a prince than any human man wearing a crown, and he’d never done Jocko or anyone else harm. All he did was love me and trust me, and I was supposed to do something like that to him in return?”

  “He’d still have been a prince, Dory,” Martin told her. “Nothing can take that from him.”

  “I know, but I wasn’t going to hurt him. I wouldn’t even pretend to agree to hurt him. I-I just hoped it wouldn’t hurt for too long, that I’d pass out or something.”

  Tears sprang to her eyes, but she blinked them back. Her voice changed as confusion melded with her former fear and anger.

  “All of a sudden, I started thinking about those ears, big, hairy, floppy ears. I could really see them there in my mind. I could almost reach out and scratch them. The next thing I knew—”

  She began to sob, and this time, she was powerless to check herself.

  Even before the cat could do anything, Martin had her in his arms. “Easy, child. Take it easy, Dory. It was only an illusion. Talent can’t be forced to work against the real will of its wielder. Look at Trouble. He’s fine, and he certainly puts no blame on you.”

  The tomcat’s green eyes fixed on him. “The ears were real. She did not set them on me.”

  Martin’s lips parted. They curved into the beginnings of a smile.

  He released the girl. “Dory, just where did you put those ears?” he asked, already knowing what she would say but waiting with delicious pleasure to hear her confirm it.

  “On-on Jocko,” she whispered.

  The man laughed. He laughed until he fell back in his chair and his cheeks were wet with tears. When he finally regained control over himself again, he caught her hand and kissed it in delight. “Well done, Little Sorceress! That was the finest and most fitting bit of magic I’ve heard about in a long, long time!”

  “So you will help her?”

  A frown touched the human’s thoughts. “I’d have helped her without this. You knew that, or you wouldn’t have brought her here.”

  “Calm down! She is laughing. Do not spoil it.”

  Martin’s merriment was contagious, and Dory did laugh as memory of that moment returned to her.

  “They aren’t proper donkey ears. They’re floppy, just like I pictured them.” She giggled. “They bent down over his eyes. You should’ve seen his face when he saw them hanging there. He gave them a tug, then another, real hard one.—What a yowl he let out! He sure as anything knew they were real after that!”

  Her host shared her laughter, but then they both sobered.

  “That was when you made your break?” he asked.

  “Seconds later. Trouble appeared at that point. It was like he was watching the whole thing and knew just when to show up. He jumped onto Jocko’s back and really gave him reason to scream. He caught hold of those ears and went to work on them with his claws. Trouble kept at it, whatever Jocko did to try to catch hold of him. Even sober, he’s not as good as my cat. Drunk, and with Trouble on his shoulders, he had no chance at all!

  “Only when I made it through the window did Trouble let go. He sprang out after me, and the two of us took to our heels.

  “We knew we’d be done if we went back, so we just kept going.” She sighed. “I was lucky I’d been going out for water, or I wouldn’t even have this jacket.”

  “You didn’t get far.”

  “I-I needed time to think, to figure out somewhere to go, or even just a direction, and I was hoping to pick up a little food after the market today. There’re usually a lot of leavings when the farmers go home if one’s not too fussy.

  “I came this far to put some distance between me and my old haunts, figuring Jocko’d probably know those and search them out after he bound up his ears. He had to do that first; they were dropping blood all over the place.

  “It took time to get here. Everyone knows us, and we didn’t want to be seen, so we had to sneak from spot to spot. Then it was threatening to rain, and I was tired. I wanted to find a place to hole up. Trouble led me to your alley. There was this nice, dry box just big enough for both of us, and we spent the night in it.—See, not a drop touched us, though it poured the whole time.”

  She bit her lip. “Everything was fine, apart from being hungry, until we heard the mob a little while ago and knew we were trapped. We had no choice then but to go over the fence.—We wouldn’t have done it otherwise, sir.”

  “Forget that, Child. It was fate and the will of the Most High that sent you to me.” And Trouble’s plotting, he added mentally, to the cat’s satisfaction. When credit or partial credit was due him, Trouble liked, and expected, to receive it.

  The girl’s fingers twisted together. “I thought we had the time. I truly didn’t believe he’d call in the League, not…” Her voice trailed off.

  “H
e has no choice but to hunt you down and try to force you to undo your magic. Failing that, he’ll at least want the satisfaction of killing you.”

  “He’ll kill me anyway now,” she said dully.

  “Probably. If he takes you. Cheer up, Little Sorceress. That’s not going to happen, and you’ve had some payment for all he’s put you through. He’ll be a laughingstock from now on, whether he regains his old form or not.”

  “That’ll just make it the worse for us,” she said glumly.

  Dory took a deep breath. This was the hardest thing she had ever been forced to do, but she could not fail Trouble.

  “You like cats, sir. Please keep Trouble with you. I-I’ll be happy just knowing he’s safe and well fed.”

  Martin stared at her. Most High, but she had courage! That tomcat was her only friend, the only one who had loved her since the day her parents had died, and yet she was willing to part with him in order to spare him the perils and hardships she knew she faced. But, then, her entire tale was testimony to that strength.

  “Of course the kitten has courage.”

  The man looked at him. A prince, Dory had called him, and a prince he was, a fitting companion for such a queen.

  “Do not worry on that score, Dory,” he said with frigid certainty. “No one in that mob will do a thing to any of us or to my property that I do not choose to permit.”

  Her head cocked to one side. “There are so many of them. How—”

  Martin raised his hand to silence her. “How old do you think I am?” he asked.

  She shook her head. She was still young enough that all adults seemed old to her, but she knew enough and was sensitive enough of others’ feelings not to say that.

  Trouble, too, looked at him curiously. His body’s appearance and smell were that of a man in his prime years, but his inner scent did not reflect that, and Jasmine could give him no information or explanation. She was a young cat herself, only a little older than him, and she was timid by nature. She had not learned as much as she might about her companion, as much as he, Trouble, would assuredly have uncovered.