Rain and Tears

"You'd best get some sleep, Tir'shan." Panthro swiveled his chair to face the giant Felinari'i that stood by his side. "You're on watch at dawn," he added.

The mystic hid his hands beneath the long sleeves of his blue robe, one of several simple garments that Talitha had made for him from Balkin fabric. He nodded in agreement. "I am not accustomed to sleeping in a bed. I favor sleeping upon the comforting earth. I have been denied true rest since I have arrived on this world."

Panthro returned to his work checking the control board for disturbances on the plain that sprawled before Cats' Lair. He sat back on his chair, his fitted tunic and trousers of earth tones strained by the bulges his muscles made. The monitor showed little on a rainy night. He smirked. "When Tygra designs our new city, you can put in your request."

He probably thinks I am ungrateful, the white tiger decided, taking the rebuff in stride. Panthro is a warrior. His focus is different than mine. Tir'shan set his left hand upon the grey Felinari'i's brawny shoulder. "I will return in the morning," he said.

As the mystic turned to leave, the panther addressed him again. "Who watches Cheetara now?"

"Snarf."

"Is that wise?"

The mystic fiddled nervously with his long white braid. "Talitha and Tygra have gone to Tabbia to render aid in combating the latest outbreak of River Plague. If necessary, Chand'ra and I can assist Cheetara in the delivery of her cubs. All Snarf needs to do is to tell us when she enters labor."

"The cubs are overdue," Panthro remarked.

"When our wandering mystics return, we can induce labor, and end this waiting."

"Unless, my son has other ideas," Panthro quipped.

Tir'shan snorted. "Unlikely, my friend. I scanned Cheetara but two hours past. The cubs are well, and in no hurry to be born." He whispered into the panther's ear. "Besides your son is the second conceived. It will be Tygra's son that sets the pace."

Panthro brushed him aside playfully. "It will be my son who will be first-born, mystic!"

Tir'shan straightened and shrugged. It mattered little to him who claimed first birth. All he wanted was some sleep. He left the panther to his work, and padded out of the control room.

*****

Talitha rocked on his body, pleasure pulling her mouth into a satisfying smile. Soon the wave of orgasm would drown him too. I have denied myself, Tir'shan thought, but that ends now! His senses opened completely to absorb the delight that would make his body shiver.

Pain suddenly replaced the climax he had expected. "What in the seven hells!" Tir'shan shouted.

"Awake, snarf, snarf. Mystic! Awake!"

The pounding on the door to his quarters echoed the throbbing in his left hip, which confirmed that he had landed hard when he had fallen out of bed. "Just a dream," he sighed, wishing that the catastrophe Snarf brought to his chamber could have waited but a moment more.

He moved to his feet, quickly donning his robe. He tapped the panel that turned on the lights, then repeated the action to open the door.

The elderly snarf that stood before him wrung his hands in distress. "Cheetara--"

Tir'shan did not allow him to finish his message. "Get Chand'ra!" he shouted as he bolted from his room.

*****

"Forgive me," Cheetara said. Her golden eyes grew large from another contraction. "I hoped my cubs could wait until Tygra and Talitha returned, but--"

"Just keep walking," Tir'shan interrupted, "and this will end soon."

"You are not the one in distress!" Chand'ra snarled as she helped the pregnant cheetah pace the floor. The jan'nirri had taken less care than he in choosing clothing. She wore only an ak'ti.

The historian complained. "I must sit!"

"You are too cruel, mystic. Let her rest, snarf, snarf!" the elder complained.

"Very well," Tir'shan relented. "But only for a moment because I need to scan you again, Cheetara."

Chand'ra angled Cheetara onto a large chair. The mystic parted the green robe that the historian wore. He placed his hands on her mountainous abdomen. Eyes closed, he relaxed, entering the healing state with ease. The chaotic rhythm of her body told him that events would occur faster than anyone had anticipated for a first birth. Free of the trance, he watched the vestiges of violet light fade from his hands. "Stand," he commanded.

"No!" the cheetah protested.

"Can't we wait a little, snarf, snarf?"

Forgive me, Tir'shan thought as he hauled the historian to her feet. "Chand'ra, the robe," he ordered, knowing the warrior would heed him without question.

The snow leopard swiftly assisted the female out of her gown.

Cheetara cried out. "The time has come!" Tir'shan explained. He faced the cheetah's back, and placed his hands under her enlarged breasts. He dove into trance, and reached for her pain.

Cheetara whimpered. Snarf stood his ground. Squatting, Chand'ra positioned her hands beneath Cheetara.

"It will become easier," the mystic promised. The world became agony and words. "Mrísena make this pass!" he exclaimed as fire burned his gut.

"Here comes Panthro's son!" Chand'ra howled. Irritated mewling filled the air. "He's not happy. He knows he has lost a peace that won't be regained until death." The snow leopard suddenly cursed. "Here, Snarf. Take him. The other comes too swiftly. He chooses to be impatient!"

A potent contraction almost toppled the mystic.

More colorful expressions reached Tir'shan's ears as his pain subsided. "This one is still in his wraps!" Chand'ra declared.

The mystic severed the connection between himself and his patient in time to see the jan'nirri split the bloody placental capsule in her hands. The small being within shrieked in annoyance, his little hands punching the air.

"Though smaller, this one fights even more than the last," the jan'nirri commented while straightening. "Another fine warrior."

"A prophet," Cheetara whispered cryptically as Tir'shan eased his charge to the floor.

"Rest for a moment" he said to the panting female. "Your work is done." He said to the snow leopard, "I will see to the twins; you will assist Cheetara." He turned to the elderly snarf, "Please aid me. Then, with your permission, I will leave the ordering of the room to you." The servant grinned, pleased to be considered of value.

Tir'shan took the two squealing male cubs from their attendants, and brought them to a low wooden table over which several layers of cloth lay. He carefully examined the cubs, and the umbilical cords and placentae still attached to them. When done, he said to Snarf, "A fine pair."

"They favor their fathers in coloration, but they have the long limbs of the cheetah clan, snarf, snarf," the servant commented.

Tir'shan indicated a black spot that marred the bloodied white on the chest of Tygra's son. "Another hint of his combined heritage," he replied, "but more subtle." He indicated a bowl of water, a pile of linen, and some thin cord. "Come, let us finish this, so that we can all get some needed rest."

*****

The mystic gazed down upon the newest inhabitants of Cats' Lair. Cradled in two wicker baskets placed by his feet, the cubs slept. "Not a day old and already on watch," he said with a chuckle to the infants.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Panthro asked. "You have not had much sleep."

Tir'shan nodded. "We can adjust schedules later." He pointed to the baskets. "I put them into a light sleep cycle, so I could watch them without too much effort. They have not eaten. Cheetara's milk has yet to flow. Rest will correct this. In the interim, we must send someone to the village of the warrior women to get a wet nurse. We know from Talitha's experience that humans can tolerate Felinaria milk; Tygra's chemical analysis indicates that the reverse is most likely true."

"Pum'y'ra can go to the village." The panther frowned before speaking again. "There is another small matter."

"Oh?"

"When are you going to let me hold my handsome son."

"After he awakens." The mystic waved his hand. "Be off, Panthro. Think of a name. I'll be sure to call you when the time is proper. Being born is hard work, and like all cubs, they still have to contend with 30 suns of silence and darkness."

The panther bent over the basket that contained his son. "He seems bigger than Tygra's son," he commented with pride. The black cub made a little sound. Its tiny fists bunched. Tir'shan gave a warning growl. "Even asleep, he can still smell you; you're unsettling him!"

Panthro raised his hands in submission, and backed quietly out of the control room.

The panther's cub settled quickly, but his brother shifted in his basket. He yawned, then began to kick his feet under the blanket. "Awake so soon?" Tir'shan asked. "Stubborn like your father, and resistant to my power," he remarked. The infant mewled. The mystic reached for him. He did not have to worry that the little one had soiled its bedding. He had not fed. For 30 suns, the infants could void only after parental stimulation.

Tir'shan's thoughts darkened recalling the stormy council meeting that had occurred after their return from the sea. Now there is no avoiding the next step. We must go back, and the Lord of the Thundercats must speak to Eri'mintálí alone. A price must be paid for a city. The king is willing, but Tygra will continue to fight him on this matter.

The mystic rocked the cub gently, and wondered when his sire would return. "Little one, your father has yet to understand that he is not the king," he whispered. "Lion-o has made it clear that he will do whatever is necessary for the comfort of his people. By my words and advice, he has come to trust the asira'savi, and for that, Tygra's heart has grown even colder toward me."

The cub grew silent. The infant had drifted back to sleep, his left hand resting against his slightly parted lips.

*****

I am tired, Tir'shan decided as he watched the human female, whose skin was richly brown in color, feed the cubs. The warmth of the afternoon sun threatened to make him drowsy, but could not succeed. I should just fall asleep in this chair, but the dream eludes me.

The warrior woman spoke in the language he had yet to learn. She laced her bodice, then scooped up her toddler who played quietly with a cloth ball.

Tir'shan nodded politely. He rose from the chair and stretched, dwarfing the petite woman and her daughter, whose dark eyes grew wide with amazement. He gestured toward the door. The human made another comment.

"She says that you are as tall as a great tree!" Snarf explained as he entered the mystic's chamber.

"More like a small mountain," the giant quipped.

"All is ready," the servant continued. "I'll take over from here, and guide them to the guest room. However, I need to know: when do you want Kitra and Katren to take over watching the cubs?"

"I will call when I need them, be assured," he answered.

"Why not keep the cubs with Cheetara, snarf, snarf, instead of in your room?"

"When she awakens, I will return them to her side." He waved his hand wearily to end the conversation. The snarf, used to reading the gestures of lords, followed the command, and left the room with the humans in tow.

Tir'shan settled back onto the chair, and watched the squirming cubs. While waiting for the nurse, he had performed a deeper examination on them. All was well, but Tygra's son would face a special problem in life: the heritage of his mother, despite her potential for precognition, appeared to block the nascent signs of the future mind gifts a red tiger experienced at adolescence. "Perhaps, it will change," he said to himself. "But Tygra will not like hearing this."

There are many things Tygra will not like, and that is his concern, his conscience commented.

"Agreed," Tir'shan assented to himself. He looked at the control panel by the door, and thought, Maybe I should just summon the young ones. I need sleep.

As if his thought had been read, someone tapped on his door.

"Enter." The last person he wanted to see strode past him without a greeting. With the dust from traveling still clinging to his blue robe and sandals, Tygra knelt by the basket that held his first-born son.

"Thought of a name?" Tir'shan asked, trying to break the unpleasant silence.

To his surprise, the architect answered, although coldly, "That is Cheetara's responsibility. He is her son, of her clan. I only granted her request for a cub in keeping with the obligations of my rank."

Let us forget the small fact that he looks like you, but without the ruff, the mystic thought, keeping his sarcasm to himself. The conflict that raged within the architect could not be hidden by words. The muscles of his eyes and mouth tightened; sorrow flickered across his dark amber eyes.

He must be concerned about how to explain this birth to the councils of the tiger and cheetah clans, the giant decided. When the cub was conceived, it was not a difficulty, for he and Cheetara knew not of the survival of our people.

A breeze lightly lifted the curtains shielding the window he had opened. It was a soothing balm that allowed him to consider that it was not a problem in which he should involve himself. Talitha will help him along this road, the mystic thought. He rose from his chair, and loomed over the tiger and the baskets with their precious gifts. "You can watch them," he announced, and departed in haste.

*****

The mystic stood before the altar of Mrísena that Talitha had lovingly maintained in the shadow of the Lair. Its position at the forest's edge granted him a measure of security. Anyone on watch in the control room could detect trouble across the plain up to the leafy border.

For a short time he knelt in prayer, giving thanks for the new lives that had entered the world. He pushed problems out of his mind, and thought only of his gratitude to the Goddess.

The trees shaded him from the sun, but the heat finally compelled him to rest. Tir'shan found a dry patch of ground carpeted by grass and flat. He lay on his side, closed his eyes, and listened for the heartbeat of the earth beneath him. For the first time since his arrival on Third Earth, he slept deeply.