North Wind

"'I swear by Apollo the physician, and AEsculapius, and Health, and All-Heal, and all the gods and goddesses, that, according to my ability and judgement'--that this task is impossible today!" The Thundercat slammed shut the book which rested on the old table. She leaned back on the wide chair. Placing her hand on her swollen abdomen, Cheetara marked the rapid movements within her womb which had made her uncomfortable and distracted.

"It appears that you were not meant to have a peaceful day." The middle-aged woman who had made the announcement sat across from her. Amusement lightened her dark eyes. "Given your condition, that is only natural."

"How would you know!" Cheetara snapped. The older female's brow creased with dismay, which marred the brown star gracing her olive skin. The Thundercat immediately regretted her harsh words. "Forgive me, Althea!"

The starborn rose, the spindly seat creaking as if it would fall apart, and walked toward the hearth. "I'll make us some tea," she answered pleasantly. "I think we need a break from translating Hippocrates. However, I will say that at your rate of progress, you will soon be able to read with ease any of my Greek texts."

Cheetara absently traced the gold embossing on the thin tome, and wished that she could recall her spiteful words. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, her throat tightening.

The sound of water flowing from a ceramic jug into a metal pot mingled with the starborn's gentle reply. "Do not feel sad, Cheetara. The gods did not bless Aidan and me with children for a reason. They needed us to be free of the responsibility of parenting, so that we could serve our people to the utmost. In turn, they have given us many other treasures." Althea suspended the pot over a iron hook which hung above the coals in the fireplace. The light from the embers made her silver hair iridescent. The shadows accentuated the pointedness of her ears. She continued, "To be completely honest, I would have to say that I am glad of the course my life has taken. I enjoy children, but I have not missed having the opportunity to bear them and to raise them." Walking back toward the cheetah, she added, "I'm afraid, however, that at one time, Aidan may have felt differently." She sat beside her friend once more. "To paraphrase a Berbil proverb, let none of us cry over spilt milk. The past stays in the past." She smiled, then brushed a tear from the Thundercat's light brown cheek. "If I were in your position, and having my internal organs pummeled by irascible twins, I would certainly be irritable too." The admission made the cheetah laugh, the burden lifted from her heart. "That's much better. Perhaps instead of tea, some fresh air would suit you. Shall I call for Lynx-o?"

"I will go to him myself," Cheetara answered, deciding that the starborn's suggestion was the right medicine for what ailed her. She took a handkerchief from the pocket in her loose green robe, and dried her eyes. Using the armrests of the chair for support, the Thundercat slowly stood.

"Tread carefully," Althea said, taking her rickety chair, and moving it closer to the warmth of the hearth. "I have gathered that Lynx-o likes privacy, especially when he is carving a flute."

"Then he should have stayed at the Lair," Cheetara remarked huffily. "No one forced the elder to come with me. Lion-o gave him permission to travel only because our young king was already taking me by Thundertank to your dwelling. It was Lynx-o who said that he desired a change of scenery."

"A strange comment for a blind one to make," Althea said thoughtfully.

"You waste your sympathy on Lynx-o. His blindness does not seem to interfere with any of his plans."

"So it appears. In this respect, he is really quite amazing." Althea used a poker to stir the embers. "The day is still young, Cheetara, and the weather, although cold, is fair. We'll have tea and cakes when you return from your walk."

The cheetah regarded herself in a long mirror placed by a book case. "I don't need the cake, Althea. I already look like I have swallowed a gourd," she moaned, rubbing her belly. "I feel as big as the full moon, and I still have half of my pregnancy to endure."

"I'm afraid there is nothing you can do about it, dear child. The Goddess has truly blessed you, but as you know, every blessing has its price."

"I appreciate your sympathy, Althea," Cheetara grumbled, donning her heavy cloak.

"Carpe diem!" Althea advised.

*****

The cheetah headed toward the vacant barn. Althea's husband and his nephew Xerxes had ridden north to Tabbia to replenish some of their winter supplies. The couple had not yet adequately gauged the nutritional needs of the younger, hungrier starborn who, despite his lean form, had made a significant dent in their larder.

The wind rose suddenly. Cheetara raised the hood of her cloak over her head. Only 30 more suns until the vernal equinox, she thought. Maybe then we will have some real warmth. I have had quite enough of winter!

As she rounded the building, she spied the lynx. The older Thunderan sat on a stump. A brown fur hat covered his head and his large tufted ears. The layered clothing kept him warm despite the blustery conditions which made his short white ruff dance. He expertly wielded a small Wolo-crafted knife. With each flick of his wrist, a flake of wood fell from the long flute upon which he worked. Without ceasing his effort, the blind elder said, "Have you tired of reading Greek, Lady Cheetara?"

"I should have known better than to think that I could catch you unawares, Lynx-o," she admitted, sitting beside him.

Lynx-o rewarded her with a smile. His sightless yellow eyes narrowed slightly, and made his dark eye-stripes more pronounced. "Don't feel badly. Only Chand'ra has ever succeeded in surprising me." He stuck his knife into the stump. The lynx ran his hands over the flute, feeling each rise and depression. Grunting in satisfaction, he declared, "This will do for now. My hands are getting too cold. I was a fool to have forgotten my gloves." Handing her the unfinished instrument, he asked, "What do you think?"

Aquatic creatures from Thundera's seas spiraled around the side-blown flute. When properly polished, the fine grain of the wood would enhance the illusion of motion which the lynx had created. "This is incredible!" Cheetara gasped.

Lynx-o gave a dismissive wave. "I probably could do better if I could see. I asked you for an opinion of the imagery, not a comment on a trick any properly trained artisan could perform."

From his nonchalant manner, the cheetah could not be certain whether his self-deprecatory remark had been made in sarcasm or truth. Maybe both, she thought, studying the carving in more detail. But only a master could do this blind.

"Well?" Impatience tinged his voice, but interest softened the hardness of his tone.

"I almost expect the ti'ras to swim away, they look so real. It is a wonderful composition, Lynx-o, and one which Tygra will love."

The lynx chuckled. "You are astute. Even if the others could play this instrument, only Tygra is left-handed, and the design reflects this fact."

Cheetara nodded appreciatively, and handed the instrument back to the elder, who laid it on the stump. "Since you have stopped your labor for a moment, would you care to go with me for a walk?" she asked.

"My lady, I will gladly accompany you, if that is your wish," he responded. Weariness made his polite reply ring false.

With your burden, everything must take you twice the effort, my friend. Even if you don't want to go with me, you will, because Lion-o or Tygra would have your hide if they found out that I had traveled alone, she thought, keenly aware of the loss of independence her pregnancy had cost her. "Shall we walk to the edge of the Forest of Silence? Maybe we will see a unicorn." The heat rushed to her face as she suddenly realized the inappropriateness of her last remark.

"Do you think that one will actually let me get close enough to touch it?" Lynx-o said, ignoring her mistake. "I've been told that it is similar to the i'k'ta, but generally smaller, and more slender."

"Don't forget the horn that springs from its brow. Despite its apparent delicacy, the unicorn can be ferocious in battle."

The lynx rose, then helped Cheetara to her feet. "Once my hands feel its form, my brain will know it, and then, I can carve it," he declared with confidence.

"That I do not doubt," Cheetara answered.

*****

The thin, bare tress comprising the forest border made a living wall of greyness. Again Cheetara prayed for the return of spring and the green that would accompany it. She looked to the lynx who walked beside her in silence. With your reticence, you make Tygra appear to be a chatterbox! she decided. You have been a poor choice to help me keep my mind off the extra weight that I carry.

The older Thunderan suddenly returned her stare as if he had heard her unkind thought. Don't be a fool, Cheetara, she chided as she signaled for a halt. He possesses no mind gifts, although he is blessed with the keen senses of his race.

Lynx-o smiled cryptically. "We have reached the Forest of Silence. Do the unicorns leave the safety of the wood very often?" he asked. The slight quiver in his voice suggested that the lynx was excited about the prospect of meeting one of the starborns' special charges.

Refusing to give the artisan the satisfaction of knowing that he had surprised her yet again, Cheetara made no mention of the remarkable fact that he had ascertained their location without the benefit of sight. "That would depend on the herd's last position. Several of the younger stallions act as guards. If the herd is nearby, one unicorn might come to the border to check for danger."

The elder gave an ascertaining grunt, then pointed to the trees. "Like that one?"

Cheetara looked in the direction that he had indicated. It took her a moment to discern the grey steed hidden amongst the tree trunks. "Gods," she exclaimed, "you're right! How did you know?"

Lynx-o shrugged. "Merely a good guess, my lady. The sound of its movement indicates the stride of a four-footed one. The scent of the creature is fair. Lastly, he gave us a nicker of greeting. Shall we wait for him to approach, or shall we move forward?"

"Wait. If we move closer, he'll bolt. Although these creatures can be quite fierce if threatened, they are shy as a rule."

"If we are to wait, then let's sit. There is no need to tire ourselves. You noted that we passed a good size rock a few feet back. We can both fit on it."

Maybe he is fatigued, but I'd also wager that he's accommodating me. The males of Cats Lair! For once I just wish they would not be so damn protective. Their attitude is almost as tiring as my burden, Cheetara thought. Her right ankle twinged, then her left. Jaga's balls! My feet are going to swell again. The Thundercat sighed. Now I can better understand why Talitha was so moody during her pregnancy. The changes are so inconvenient! She nodded to the lynx, and said, "You've made a good suggestion."

They walked back to the boulder, and sat. The unicorn held his ground, and watched them from his cover with curiosity. Lynx-o took a pipe from his trouser pocket. "Do you mind if I enjoy a smoke?" he asked.

"Yes," she said with more hostility than she had intended.

Without argument, the lynx immediately returned the pipe to his pocket.

Cheetara touched his shoulder gently. "I'm sorry for my rudeness, Lynx-o, but in my condition, the smell of your pipeweed, however fragrant, can make me feel quite sick."

"Understood, my lady." The lynx removed his hat, and brushed back the loose strands of his tawny mane over his large, pointed ears. A few wisps of silver fur attractively decorated his temples. "Getting warm," he said, setting the hat beside him. "Guess the walk has heated me up a little."

His mane was long enough that he had pulled it back and had arranged it in a short braid. The particular twist that he had employed suggested an eastern origin. Like the style of pipe that he uses, that's the only clue he has given anyone as to his place of birth, Cheetara thought. However, his speech lacks a noticeable accent, just like someone from the King's City, the place where all accents are lost. His fur has thickened little in response to the cold, unlike his northern brothers, and so the far mountains were probably not his home, she guessed silently.

"Have I offended you, my lady?" Lynx-o suddenly asked.

"Why, no," Cheetara answered too quickly, flustered by the accusation.

"Then why do you stare at me?"

"How can you possibly know!"

"I can just sense your discomfort by the rate of your breathing. It's too fast. You should try and relax. Isn't that what this walk was supposed to accomplish?"

"There is no fooling you," Cheetara admitted in defeat. "You must be a sorcerer in disguise, Lynx-o."

His laughter had a light, airy quality seldom associated with a male. "Bones of my ancestors, what a jest," he said, continuing to chortle as he spoke. He put his hand to his chest. "On my honor, my lady, I have never been a sorcerer, although I have known some who have undertaken that calling."

"But you are more than a flute-maker."

His body stiffened. "Am I on trial, my lady," he growled, "for if I am, you must name the offense! It has been my experience in this life that no one is what he seems. We all have our little secrets."

From the usually reticent lynx, the retort was a thunderclap that struck down her curiosity. "You have a right to your privacy, elder. I was wrong to intrude," Cheetara apologized. The lynx made no further reprisal. Why must I always see problems where they are not, the historian scolded herself. Lynx-o is what he claims to be. A trickle of doubt made her tense. Or is he? Gods, I wish I could rid myself of this odd feeling.

Lynx-o suddenly put his finger to his lips, then pointed to the forest. During their talk, the steed had moved onto the plain. "He's coming," the elder whispered.

"Do not move. Let him become familiar with your scent."

The unicorn halted but a short distance from the pair. His pricked ears indicated his cautious interest. "I wish I had brought an offering," Lynx-o murmured.

"I should have thought to ask Althea for a treat for her charges," Cheetara agreed. "I'm sure that he would not have refused a tasty carrot."

The unicorn gave a nicker that was an obvious rebuff for their oversight. He approached Lynx-o, who sensing his presence, remained still. The steed gently butted the elder's shoulder in greeting. In return the lynx tentatively stroked the unicorn's neck, which the creature tolerated without complaint. "Such soft fur," Lynx-o remarked with admiration. "I am tempted to touch his horn, but I dare not offend him."

"If he inclines his head toward you, he will have given you permission." Cheetara remarked.

His voice becoming wistful, Lynx-o replied, "I have not proven myself worthy of such a privilege."

"He would never have allowed your touch, were you not worthy, Lynx-o," she countered. "The unicorn is a very sensitive creature. Their race has neverrejected one of our people."

"Then I am already honored," he replied. The elder slowly stood. When the unicorn did not bolt, he asked. "May I touch you, so that I may learn your form, and thus give praise to the Spirit that favors all those who create?" As if he had understood the request, the creature lowered his head. The tip of his long horn touched the lynx's chest. "Thank you." Only the faint catch in the elder's voice betrayed his emotions.

While Lynx-o examined the patient steed, Cheetara remarked, "All of the starborns' 'children' have names. I wonder what his is?"

"Grey Cloud," the elder answered without hesitation, his hands wrapped around one of the unicorn's legs.

"Now you have the ability to communicate with unicorns, like their guardians? Is this another talent that you have neglected to tell us about, elder?" Cheetara inquired in a teasing manner.

"Nonsense! I just thought up the name because of the silkiness of the animal. Did I at least get the color correct?"

Before the Thundercat could answer, the air around her whistled. Cheetara instinctively flailed at the unseen, and struggled to remain seated on the rock. A stabbing pain coursed through her. She gazed down upon the arrow that protruded from her left breast with dumbstruck fascination.

The unicorn squealed, and positioned himself by the stricken Thundercat. The steed kept his head lowered, his white horn ready to defend. Lynx-o roared. A jeweled dagger crafted unlike any Cheetara had ever seen miraculously appeared in the elder's hand. Fearful for his safety, she cried, "Lynx-o, no!"

"To the Silence!" he screamed, his fierce war cry ripping through the glade.

A wave of Thundercat energy warmed Cheetara, and promised the arrival of help. "Don't go! The Sword of Omens has summoned the others!" she announced, praying that the blind elder would not act rashly, for in her weakness, she could do nothing to stop him.

Ignoring her plea, the lynx raced toward the forest with the deliberation of a hunter who had targeted prey. Cheetara leaned on the unicorn for support, and focused on the movements of the elder to keep from fainting. Lynx-o bypassed the obstacles in his path with unfailing precision. In seconds, he disappeared amongst the thick collection of trees.

Once he had vanished, the cheetah's attention wavered. Her mouth became dry, and the world began to spin. "Gods of Thundera give me strength!" she pleaded. With her right hand, she quickly searched her pocket, and retrieved the baton that contained the magic that as a Thundercat, only she could wield. With a thought, she caused the stick to expand until it had reached the length of a staff. Let the enemy dare to come, and I will bite! she vowed, using her anger to keep her mind away from her hurt, the arrow that she dared not remove for fear of worsening her wound, and the blood that stained her garment.

A figure suddenly emerged from the forest. The lynx, his head bowed, walked toward her. In his right hand he held the severed head of a jackalian.

Cheetara fainted.

*****

All was calm. The sailboat glided smoothly over the sparkling ocean. He would have made a fine sailor, Cheetara thought with pride, studying the cheetah who controlled the vessel with expertise. Ti'dani let his attention drift from the tiller for only a moment. He smiled at his tenira Ala, who sat beside him on a red cushion, and playfully tugged at the hem of his brown robe. The gentles breezes made of her mother's long, spotted mane a rippling banner of gold and black. The happy couple turned their gaze upon her, Cheetara, their only offspring. Her father attempted to speak, but in that instant, a lightning bolt of pain destroyed her dream.

Cheetara screamed. Above her floated a serrated arrow that dripped blood. Her terror did not abate until she saw that a Thunderan hand held the hideous weapon, and the hand belonged to a blind elder.

"Lynx-o." Her voice was as frail as a broken reed; her body carried the weight of stone. The hard ground beneath her offered no comfort. Her mind reeled as it tried to recall how she had received the gash in her breast.

The kneeling lynx placed a piece of cloth against her wound. "I'm sorry for hurting you, my lady, but the arrow needed to come out." A long muzzle poked into her view. The unicorn shook his head as if in agreement with the flute-maker. "I am going to help you to sit up now. I need to secure the binding," Lynx-o continued.

A weak nod was all that Cheetara could manage on her own. She leaned against the elder as he finished his work. She wondered which of her sons pounded her womb with such ferocity. The cheetah touched her abdomen and began to cry, concerned that she had somehow endangered the treasure that she carried.

"The healers will come soon. Have no fear, my lady. The enemy will never again have the opportunity to harm anyone."

In an instant, Cheetara remembered what had happened and what she had seen. "Jan'nirri!" she gasped, pushing him away.

"Yes," he admitted, with a firmness that declared that he was proud of his calling. "My family has long served the kings of Thundera in this way. You need not be frightened of me."

The panic passed; the severed head with its staring eyes drew her attention. "Was that necessary?" she asked, pointing to the gruesome object soiling the ground.

"The Mutants must learn to fear us. I intend to make a necklace from his teeth, and a purse from his ears. It is the jan'nirri way."

Cheetara averted her gaze from the head and nodded. I have no right to cast harsh judgement; Lynx-o has performed his duty. She looked back to the older Thunderan. Given his extraordinary senses, she wondered why she hadn't suspected that he was an invisible warrior. "Why have you not informed our king and his councillor of your special skills?" she asked.

"Chand'ra and I discussed the matter, but decided that the time was not yet right to reveal our unique training."

"Chand'ra?"

"She is also a jan'nirri."

"I should have recalled that your kind work in pairs!" Cheetara exclaimed.

"Usually," Lynx-o countered brusquely. "I have been lucky to have had Chand'ra as my counterpart over the seasons. I am her teacher on the shadow way, but over time, her skills have outstripped my own."

"She is not blind. Your actions show that you are still the master," Cheetara answered, her respect for the elder increasing.

The loss of blood that she had suffered made itself known in the dizziness that renewed its attack upon her. Lynx-o reached for Cheetara, and this time, she did not flinch. She allowed the elder to gently stroke her mane as she rested against his shoulder. "Tygra will be angry," she whispered.

"Perhaps, but not for long. He is the son of a lord and a warrior. He will understand our need for secrecy."

Her ears detected the distinct rumble of the Thundertank. "We'll know soon," she remarked before she drifted into unconsciousness once more.

*****

Cheetara studied the pensive lynx who sat on a nearby chair. "Tygra wasn't angry about your secret?" she asked while settling back on the mound of pillows placed against the headboard of her bed. Under the covers, she gave her long legs a stretch. I'd better be comfortable. I'm going to be stuck here for some time, she thought with gloom.

Lynx-o answered, "No. He and King Lion-o understood that Chand'ra and I had not mentioned our special training because we wished to forget it. After all we had endured over the many seasons, we only wanted to live as quietly as possible." The elder laughed softly. "Unbeknownst to me, Chand'ra had revealed her status to Panthro, who had kept this knowledge a secret out of respect for her. But he wasn't surprised to discover that I too was a jan'nirri."

"Considering how you have managed your disability, it's strange that none of us more actively pursued the possibility that you were more than you seemed. What you accomplished today, still astounds me."

He gave her compliment a low, acknowledging growl. "I am from the east. My clan had a tradition of producing both fine artisans and jan'nirri. From the day that I was born, my path stretched before me. In our clan, the extraordinary senses of our race have reached their highest development." The lynx sighed. "I suppose neither Chand'ra nor I can ever be released from our duties except in death. What has happened today has made it clear to me that our unique skills are needed in this Lair." He frowned slightly as if annoyed with himself for failing to recognize the problems inherent in their new home. He indicated the teapot and cup on the nightstand, and changing the subject said, "More, my lady?"

Cheetara pulled the blanket closer. "Goddess, no. Anymore fluid and I'll have to ask you to help me the bathroom, and for that to happen, I might have to gain Talitha's permission."

"Now she and Tygra were certainly unhappy with today's events. The wound was easily healed. Good food and rest will restore your blood loss. However--"

"I'm now stuck in bed for the remainder of my pregnancy because my growing cubs have caused my cervix to dilate slightly. What a nuisance this has been! When I finally submitted to Talitha's exam some suns past, she revealed to me that I carried sons. Tygra and Panthro badgered me until I told them, and thus everyone else in the Lair, that I carried male twins. I only wish that Talitha's power was strong enough to tell me who fathered them. Do they both come from Tygra or Panthro; or can it be that each twin has a different father?"

"Your position is not an enviable one."

"Indeed not! Given this new development, Tygra and Panthro will keep an even keener watch on me, since they are both so vain as to believe that at least one cub is the fruit of his seed. I wish that like a jan'nirri, I could simply disappear when I desired it."

"I could teach you the spell," Lynx-o said, grinning. "That would add some excitement to this household."

Cheetara shook her head. "Much as I would be glad to learn, I would have to endure one of Tygra's lectures after I used it. That price is too high to pay."

The lynx stood. "As an historian, you already know the proverb concerning crisis and opportunity. There is no reason to neglect your studies with the starborn. You certainly can read while in bed. You can also continue in a limited fashion to instruct Kitra in the way of the historians."

Sensing that no further sympathy was forthcoming from the elder, Cheetara shifted again the focus of the conversation. "Hopefully Althea has recovered from today's shock," she commented. I have never seen her so angry. Everyone was stunned when she asked for one of the jackalian's teeth!"

His expression darkening, Lynx-o stared with clouded eyes at the windows that overlooked the plain. "I expected to be berated for my actions by Talitha, but not by Tygra. I chose to fight, not flee. I knew the unicorn would protect you in my stead, or I would never have left you alone. I killed in the manner of a warrior, and I claimed my prize. I am surprised that our king took his councillor's position that I should have fled with you to safety. However, I was glad of Chand'ra's and Panthro's support."

"Don't be harsh on Tygra, Lynx-o. He has never made peace with the warrior's path, a road which he must also travel, a way that seldom proves clear. A violent response has always been Tygra's last resort. You know that he killed the leader of the Mutants. As much as he despised Slythe, for quite some time, he hated himself more for his method of killing the reptilian. He never took the trophy that by our laws was his due.

"When the jackalian attacked us today, he would have continued his assault until we were both slain. You fought him in a lawful way. Had he survived, he probably would have battled us another day. A display of his remains may well remind the other Mutants that we will do whatever is necessary to defend ourselves. Although I understood it, your desecration of the mutant initially filled me with revulsion. But now, considering all that we have suffered, I think that I would wear a mutant's tooth around my neck."

"You shall have one, my lady," Lynx-o replied proudly, "as will all in this house who will choose to celebrate our victory."

Cheetara thought, Tygra is right. Victory and defeat are the same. I have seen too much loss over the seasons to cheer any battle.

She said to the elder, "Even when it touches our enemies, I don't applaud death." The life in her womb stirred, and Cheetara smiled. "However, there is joy in survival, and it is for this reason that I will wear your amulet. I will shake my fists at the Mutants, and unshakably declare: that which is Thunderan will never die! This will I celebrate, my friend."

"My lady, our paths through life have been very different, and have effected our views. I cannot agree with you, but, I do respect your logic."

"That is fair."

The lynx stood, and remarked with a casual air that dispersed any remaining solemnity, "I'd best get back to the task at hand before Snarf discovers just where I placed the jackalian's head."

"Name of the gods, you didn't!"

After laughing at her response, Lynx-o said, "Don't worry. I knew that I could not get to it until after my meeting with the others. I've buried the enemy deep in the freezer. With that fine Xian knife that I 'borrowed' from Ba'sir, I should finish the dissection well before dinner." He bowed, then turned toward the door, and exited with a jaunty step that belied the onerous task that he had set for himself.

Tygra had better get used to surprises, Cheetara decided. Two jan'nirri are in the Lair, and one of them is unpredictable and not beyond a little thievery. She shrugged in resignation, and burrowed under the blankets. May all the Gods help us!