Feliks W. Kres is the pen name of a writer from Lodz. His first short story "Mag" (The Wizard) won the Literary Contest of Fantastyka magazine in 1983. Kres has written a number of short stories and ten novellas, most of them taking place in the world of Szerer. In 1992 he won the Zajdel Award for his novel Krol bezmiamw (The King of Vastness).

FELIKS W. KRES

THE CROWN OF SHERGARDS

Dusk was falling. Rocks were mercilessly whipped by cold rain, a rain that rolled over the mountain slopes in clouds. Some of these clouds grew thicker and thicker, while others became thinner and thinner. Wind tore sprays of water and pulled them from the clouds crowded over Grombelard's land.
The Heavy Mountains remained - immovable.
The heavy rain turned into a downpour. On the background of a gloomy firmament, hardly a sky, a flash of lightning glittered. Between the peaks rumours of thunder fell, together with cascades of real water. At once, hundreds of enraged streams foamed among the screes, stones ran down the slopes. Some piled up, creating dams which were instantly smashed by the lashing waters.
The greater boulders remained - immovable.
In the grey evening light, through the downpour, the shadowy shapes of two people appeared. They were bent double to the earth and loaded with packs and weapons. They moved with difficulty along a winding mountain road, which was at present a roaring torrent.
Great rocks lay nearby, tightly clustered and washed by sheets of rain.
The two moved labouriously up the slope.
The sheets of rain shook under a clap of thunder, and as the roar faded away, a wavering voice could be heard,a voice which was a mockery of sulky, muffled laughter. In the wind and rain the voice could have been an illusion... but it wasn't, as the stones beside the road came to life. The two people stopped short, one shouted a warning, grasping his comrade by a shoulder. Weird creatures, impervious to the wind, tore through the curtain of rain and travelled down the slopes in huge leaps.
The rain-soaked cats presented a grotesque, almost pitiful sight. Their furry paws and tails horribly thin, as were their heads, strangely like those of dogs.
Twenty such creatures attacked the two men, overthrowing them and closing in a circle. The wet Gadba, giant cats, presented a horrific sight. The fallen men foresaw a gruesome death.
A stream flowing down the slope ran red.
1
"It still rains...Why am I alive?"
A small cave, recessed in a rocky wall, made a good shelter from the weather. The entrance, six feet high, was covered by a grey wall of rain. Inside, the cave's vault rose higher and the walls broadened out on both sides. The small, fairly dry and cosy room was lit up by an oil lamp. Somehow it didn't seem the right place for a such thing -under a rock roof a wooden torch would have suited better. Pieces of clothing hung out to dry, hooked over projections from the uneven walls. A belt with a short sword hung by the entrance. A completely naked woman lay on a military coat, her legs stretched out as if she invited all the men in the world. Beneath her head was a quiver, from which feathered arrows slipped out, making a place for her black plait. For unfathomable reasons it had stuck there. The plait's owner bit on a piece of a cold meat dangling from a huge ram's shoulder. She chewed slowly and stared motionlessly at the curtain of rain in front of the cave.
"Well? Why?" she repeated with a full mouth. The sonorous, Armectanian words sounded strangely in the heart of Grombelard.
"Tell me, why do you sit in this hole, instead of leaving and going elsewhere. The further, the better. It's cold for you here, isn't it?"
The cold was positively painful, even though the wind's gusts could not enter the cave.
If the lying woman felt that chill at all, her muscular and resilient body didn't show it. She wasn't shivering, and had no gooseflesh. Only the nipples on her stuck out, as hard as pebbles. It seemed that out of concern for them, she reached for a thick plaid lying behind her, tugged at it and somehow covered herself. All the while, she ate.
"Ah...." she said, finishing off the ram's shoulder-blade. "What fine mutton's meat that was... At least a hundred years old. A real roast meat from the history of Szerer."
The cloudburst outside eased slightly, as dusk approached. The cave's entrance was ever harder to distinguish from the blackness of the rocks.
The woman threw aside the plaid and stood up.
In the furthest part of the cave, among rags and bundles, a motionless shape lay covered by a cape. The black-haired woman approached and squatted down beside it.
She removed the cover. In the semi-darkness the outline of a sickly-looking, unshaven face could be made out. The dirty dressing on his forehead was saturated with blood.
The prostrate man opened his eyes slowly, they glittered with fever.
"Well, well..." she said..." one glance every two days... is this the way it'll stay... ?"
"I'm dying.... Huntress," the man said in a low, hoarse voice.
He was a Dartan. A son of the Golden Province, a land that was the a complete opposite of Grombelard. Here, in the Heavy Mountains, Dartans were commonly presumed to be cowards - pampered and effeminate.
She bent over, searching for something among the many bundles.
"There are two kinds of invalids," she said in the wounded man's native language, "those who'll recover and
those who'll die. Both should perform their tasks as fast as possible, otherwise they are a nuisance to themselves and others."
She found a leather pouch, inside which something squelched. She drank. Then she placed the neck of the pouch in the man's mouth. He coughed. Wine dripped on his cheeks and chin. Then he inhaled deeply a few times.
"I'll die."
The woman bit her lips. Despite her lightly spoken words, her glance held great sadness.
"I fear so," she said quietly.
She reached out her hand to touch the man's rough cheek. He was feverish. Unexpectedly the wounded man smiled weakly.
"Thank you," he said, "at least you see a man in me, a man able to accept the truth. I've waited a long time... Huntress, can I trust you?"
She frowned. The question was unexpected. She shrugged her shoulders.
"Well... I don't know, really," she said "is it going to be about some elixir of youth? Then trust me completely, I won't lose a drop of it, because I'll swallow it bottle and all." The weak laughter resounded for a short time.
"Do you feel old, Huntress?"
"As these rocks."
They were silent for a moment.
"Tell me... did you kill those soldiers in the Black Wood? Is it... true, what was said about you?"
She closed her eyes.
"No."
"Then listen... and remember, because I doubt if I'll be able to repeat it. Are you listening?"
"I am. Do you really want..."
"Surely. I can and I want to trust you."
•
At first, she lay for a long time unable to sleep. She pondered on the strange secret she had been told. The Dartan... a Dartan in the Heavy Mountains. A man, who
few years ago had been a common halberdier in distant Rollyanna. Could he really have made the strangest discovery in the history of Grombelard? Incredible... What a jest by Szernia.
She fell into a brief, uneasy, dream-filled sleep. She was wandering around a rocky labyrinth, lost, desperately trying to break free, to find an exit... in vain.
She woke up sweating, despite the cold. She sat, hugging her shoulders.
"Karenira"
He had spoken her name for the first time.
Once, she had disliked this man. She had near enough hated him. The Heavy Mountains weren't the right place for a Dartan. But he thought differently. He had also proved his right. In the space of a few years he had become known as a guide through the most dangerous parts of the Heavy Mountains.
And still Grombelard didn't want him...
It was an odd coincidence that she had found him dying. That she had taken him to one of her hiding places. He was delirious. "How could I know, that it's her?" he constantly asked in his delirium. "How could I... ?"
Only now had she found out the whole story and learned who 'She' was.
"Karenira..."
Before she went sleep, she blew out the oil lamp. Now blind, she crawled on all fours to the wounded man's bed.
"I'm here."
"Do you remember everything?"
"Yes, I do." For a while she heard only his laboured breathing.
"Remember to go through the rain... remember? Through the rain, from morning..." he said hastily "from the Medeva's gorge... She will be there. Don't say that I..."
She understood that he was again feverishly halluci-nating. She found his burning face by touch.
"That's fine, I remember."
He grasped her hand and calmed slightly.
"Huntress."
"I'm here."         :;,.
"Kiss me. Just once. I always thought that you were... I always wanted... that like you..."
She stooped, seeking his lips. They were as hot as fire.
"Huntress. I was a good guide..."
He gently pushed her away.
She retreated. She didn't sleep that night.
Probably she heard him dying.
Her clothes were still wet. However, it was impossible to dry anything in Grombelard's eternal damp.
A bonfire - yes, probably... But in the high reaches of mountains it was easier to find gold than wood.
She pulled on her short, slitted skirt, then her shirt and leather jacket, followed by her strong leather boots. Finally, she took everything worth taking from the cave: weapons, a leather bottle of wine, food, two soldiers' cloaks and a blanket. She also packed some trinkets. When she went outside she was loaded like a mule. It had stopped raining, the morning cloudburst had already passed.
She rarely visited here, near Rahgar. She had only used that cave twice.... and she would never use it again. It would become a grave for the mountain wanderer.
There were many such niches in these parts, and she knew she'd find another before dark.
She didn't block the entrance. The Vultures couldn't sense a corpse in such a place, and nothing else could live so high in the Heavy Mountains.
Vilan, the Dartan who grew to love the peaks of Grombelard would see rain forever.
•
She'd never had any luck with them. For many years she had wandered through the Heavy Mountains, (mostly around Bador and Gromb, for sure), but still she didn't know one Grombelard's most interesting legends.
The 'Assassins of Rahgar'. The Gadba, Grombelard's giant cats. Of course, she had seen a Gadba before... but in the Legions. In the whole of the empire, only in Rahgar was there a cat Guard squad. They were there to scare the mountain highwaymen and bandits prowling the roads. She had set out for Rahgar a few times before, just to see a squad of warrior cats, but always something had stood in her way.
And now again.
No, she had no luck with them.
Nonetheless, capricious fate had made her heir to a strange secret. Could be that these cat warriors in their coats of mail and helms would come to her of their own accord. The Grombelard Legion knew quite well what was going on in the mountains, and what was going on now must be very interesting for them.
Had he been mentally sound? Was he talking deliriously, when he passed his knowledge on to her? It was said that everything was possible in Grombelard. Really, everything...?
Grombelard. The Second Province. The Land of The Clouds, the Land of the Mountains... It was called a hundred names. Firstly, it was a land cursed by The Szern -a battlefield. It was over Grombelard that, ages before, The Szern had struggled most with an alien and hostile power, The Aler. It was said that the constant rain was to expiate the stigma left by that dark, hated power.
Grombelard was also the oldest land in Szerer. Amidst its peaks, passes and ridges you could find traces left by its old inhabitants. Ruined strongholds, difficult to distinguish from rocky rubble, the remains of roads, and even giant stone bridges built over bottomless ravines... They could have done this only with the help of the Szern themselves.
The dying guide had demanded of his trustee sent by fate an eye to eye meeting with the legacy of the ancient Shergards. She travelled to the north.
She had time, much time. She knew well that she would stay in the Heavy Mountains forever. Once she had tried
to run away, but she had failed. Now she could be searching for anything, even for the delusions of a Dartan man, raving in delirium.
Even more, if they weren't delusions...
At last - That, which she had devoted her life to, was it a normal occupation? She killed Vultures. Beside humans and cats there was a third rational species. She had her reasons for that.
She was called the Huntress, or the Lady of the Mountains.
She turned and looked at the sky, wondering when it would begin raining again. Her grey eyes didn't fit her face. They made her look a little eerie. They looked as if they had been taken out of another human face - a man's face - and put in the face of a pretty woman by force. They were... alien.
She actually did have somebody's else eyes. A gift from the Szern, sent by the agency of a man who saw her being blinded by the Vultures.
To the north-east of Rahgar rises the massif of Medeven, also called the Crown. A very strange place, but then strange landscapes weren't unusual in the Heavy Mountains. Medeven was formed from seven lesser mountains, each supporting the others, girdled by the rapid Medeva river and separated from the rest of the Heavy Mountains by a deep ravine. These mighty peaks, grouped in a circle, easily brought to mind a toothed crown. There was a valley between them, in which circulated a lake - genuinely, circulated. Below, the raging Medeva had pierced an underground corridor, through which its waters were forced into the valley. The waters of the lake rotated with an eternal, patient slowness. A full turn was said to take three days. That may have been the truth, then again...
Only once had Karenira reached the Medeva gorge. She wanted to explore the Crown, but was even more curious about the 'Assassins'. So first she went to Rahgar. Of course, she didn't reach the city. She also missed the Crown.
This time it would be different.
The way to the mountains took a few days. First, you had to pass the source of Medeva, a river, boiling out of earth with a mad fury, creating the biggest waterfall in the world, and flowing downstream through Grombelard - unbridled, violent and deadly. It was said, no one had ever crossed it. Karenira knew the Mountains, and that you shouldn't vainly challenge them. On the other hand, finding a passage across Medeva could be useful for the future. On her own in the mountains, a woman's safety sometimes depended on a knowledge of routes that no one else knew. Nonetheless, she was too curious about Vilan's story to search for ways across a raging river.
She walked without haste, but persistently and with the sort of certainty that could only come from an intimate knowledge of the wilderness.
3
A grey dawn broke. It wasn't raining. Strong winds drove clouds and shredded them on the edge of Grombelard's peaks. A high current tore a dark shroud and repelled its shreds. The rising sun lit up two of the teeth of the Crown, then the clouds returned anew.
Medeva rushed through the bottom of a rugged ravine, along which a group often, maybe twelve people advanced. They moved in a line because the narrow path let them do nothing else. They were dressed and equipped alike with thick, military kilts, capes, and full packs of goat's hide. Particularly noticeable was the huge number of weapons. Each one of them had sword, slung over their back in the Grombelardian manner, while in their hands they held crossbows.
Somewhat over twenty years old, black-haired and black-eyed, but a mature seeming girl. Her beauty was wild, aggressive and provocative. Her glance and movement was truly catlike... literally. She seemed relaxed, almost careless. Yet, beneath that a readiness for instant action could be seen. She could probably kill without even being aware
of it. Her body would fight off a surprise attack before her mind realised that something had happened.
She was the queen of the mountains and a Grombe-lardian highwaymen. Her name was Kaga, meaning cat.
Indeed, she was both human and cat. Abandoned on Bador's streets as a child, she grew up in a group of cat thieves. At the age of twenty five she still understood cats better than humans.
For the last week she had played a game, which no one else could play. She was escaping the hands of the 'Assassins of Rahgar'. She hadn't got away with it completely unpunished, she had already lost half of her men, still she was alive and led an armed group.
These seven mountains were the whole area in which she could move about. She was cut off in the Medeven massif, with a deadly circle surrounding her. The only exit was controlled by a squad of guard cats, a second one was on her trail. She should fight her way out, she still had enough troops to count on success, but leaving the Crown would mean failure. She had not yet found what she came for.
Human trails marked out in the mountains could be difficult for cats. A rocky wall, not too high and marked by numerous cracks, was an insurmountable obstacle for Gadba. Kaga knew that well, she also knew that a ledge one hand wide made a comfortable path for a cat squad, while her men would be risking their lives. She avoided such places. Until now she had led superbly...
The two foes looked for their own, favoured ways to beat the other.
The group stopped. The winding path led into a ravine and rocky walls came up on either side. Their field of vision became very limited. At every bend in the 'road' they could meet an enemy. Kaga doubted if the cats were in front of her. She thought sending an advance guard was necessary. Thanks to this, in the last week they had escaped from ambush twice. Admittedly scouts' lives were the price both times...
She looked at her men and said two names. At once the two men moved forward.
The young leader's prestige was immense for three years, since the legendary Basergor-Kragdob had been heard of no more. He had been the greatest highwayman in Szerer and her teacher.
His name, Basergor-Kragdob, meant The Lord of the Heavy Mountains. Kaga's nickname was shorter, but more significant: Hel-Krehiri, The Queen of Tears. She was the most cruel and ruthless being in the land of Grombelard. In the girl's heart feline callousness and lack of compassion fought with human vengefulness and mendacity. If the former king of the highwaymen had been admired, rather than hated, by the imperial soldiers, she aroused nothing but hatred. She was pursued like a wild beast, and Basergor-Kragdob's empire was falling apart. He had been allowed to exist because the legendary highwayman did something no one else had done before. He had brought some order to Grombelard. Naturally, he collected tribute from everyone with gold, but he had also tamed the robbers, they were more afraid of him than they were of merchants...
Now things were different. Kragdob was a man, Hel-Krehiri only a woman. She had no idea what she want to achieve. He had wanted something and aimed for it, while she didn't. Kaga loved going nowhere. For her travelling through the mountains, battles and victories were aims in themselves.
The squad moved along the edge of the ravine.
The route was unsure. Kaga didn't know the path. A route along the side of a ravine could extend for miles or end suddenly. A wall could appear and descend to the bottom of the ravine... but the risk was worth taking. If it was possible to walk around the mountain, instead of climbing its inaccessible slopes, she would gain a lot of time.
Besides, it's time to try and hoodwink our persecutors -she thought. Until now she had tried to avoid such places because they were too convenient for warrior cats. The 'Assassins' wouldn't believe that she would choose this
route - she thought - not such a route... so they will choose a different one.
Once more she wanted to get inside the Crown. First she had to deceive her pursers. She believed she was able to do it... but she was mistaken.
High on a rocky edge, a rock suddenly revived... a mail coat clinked. The great cat lazily stood up and bent his head. It was protected by a flat, tightly strapped helmet with openings for the ears and a sharp, vertical spike.
The guard cat squinted. He looked down on a line of small shapes.
4
Presumably the peaks forming the Crown had their own names, but Karenira knew only one - the Great Medev. It was the mightiest in the Crown. She had stayed the night under it. The next day she wanted to go through the pass which was the shortest way to the valley.
She found a niche sheltered from the wind. Still there was no escape from the ubiquitous damp. Her only dry possession, after several days of travel was her bow. It was carefully hidden in a sheath made of many layers. It was as heavy and thick as a board. Unusually, not only a part, but the whole weapon could be hidden inside it.
Karenira didn't sleep.
She had almost achieved her goal. Several days of travel had tired her. Not because the mountains were hard to pass through, but because of the reasons for which she took this journey. Her first enthusiasm had faded and now she was asking herself- had she really so much time to go looking for myths? The wounded man's words were dreams, fairy tales and nothing more. Karenira was more and more sure that there was nothing in the massif of Medeven... nothing apart from trouble, maybe. The secret stronghold and hiding place of the Shergards? With everything they had used and needed? Something like that couldn't exist. Still it was believed to exist, the hole in Vilan's head wasn't a fake. Someone had made it and easily could make an-
other in her head. Maybe she wasn't alone - the Huntress took this into account.
The night was black and impenetrable - a typical night in Grombelard. Karenira had a hunch that danger was coming. She took out her bow, listening intently to the drizzle's murmuring and the wind's howling. She examined a bowstring.
Time passed slowly.
The drizzle stopped, the wind also lessened. The Huntress was on the alert, even though her hiding place was almost impossible to find. Her intuition was right... she became anxious as she suddenly realised that she was being watched.
"You are as patient as... a cat" - a muttering, muffled voice sounded in the darkness.
"And tough" said another, similar "like iron. I had no idea, that a man could stay so long without moving."
"Legend. What are you looking for here?" asked a third voice.
Karenira stood up. A circle of warriors surrounded her, although she didn't see any of them. In the darkness of night rocky shapes loomed. Some were speaking, she didn't know which.
"What are you in these parts for?" somebody asked again. "The Vultures? They have never been seen here."
"I know."
"So, Huntress. You should go back to Bador and kill flying ones. I greatly approve of that."
She nodded and smiled with slight irony.
The Vultures were loved by nobody. No one could understand their outlook on life. That may be why people disliked their winged, intelligent brothers. Cats didn't dislike them, they hated them, and a cat's hatred was probably the strongest feeling in Szerer. Moreover, everything a cat felt and did was marked by an unshaken and patient constancy. Living in a human world, they were still independent. Everything they did was irrevocable. They would never withdraw an offered friendship or forget a hatred, they never broke their word.
"I can wander in the mountains, can't I ? Am I causing a disturbance?"
"A little. My warning does not come from that, Legend. There is a hunt and the prey is very dangerous. So be careful. Better that you went and looked for some Vultures." "I think I know who your prey is." "Do you want to help us?"
"No, I don't. Besides you know very well, that I can't. It's not my business. I live in the Mountains, highwaymen are a part of it, too," "I understand."
Something moved in the darkness. A coat of mail clanged lightly. A black shape drew closer to her knees.
"Huntress, you don't have to help Empire soldiers," said the cat, sitting.
She heard distinct irony, and she knew why it was there. A cat always felt like a soldier, but only an 'Empire' soldier when it suited him.
"However, if it were necessary, the soldiers would have to help you, right?" the Gadba continued.
She replied "No, it won't be necessary." Squatting, she felt the warmth coming from the guard. "You have tricked me, cat. No one else could manage it, I swear. I am the Lady of the Mountains, not she... If Hel-Krehiri, or anyone else gets in my way, the hunt will end without the Gadba guard."
A muttering, and unpleasant to the human ear, laughter sounded. There was nothing offensive in it. It was rather an appreciation of her sharp, biting language. The squad leader snorted quietly.
"What words... but I believe you, Legend. Otherwise, the Heavy Mountains would have eaten your bones long ago."
She rather felt than saw, that he held up his paw in a cat-like Night Greeting. "Still, be careful."
5    
The 'Assassins' had changed their strategy. Things became much more dangerous... During the last week Kaga lost eight people. Now, in a day she had lost three. They no longer followed her in a tight group. It was very hazardous, particularly at night. Then a horde of cats could badly injure surprised people, who must fight blind. Instead, groups of two or three of their soldiers ran over the mountains. They couldn't make a destructive blow, but were completely invisible and elusive. Her people were attacked day and night, she could not conceive how to escape such a trap.
On a narrow path along the cliff face, that path along which she had hoped to slip away, a lonely Gadba had demolished a whole front guard. He had also kidnapped a man from the main group. Everything happened before her eyes, worse still, in front of the eyes of her subordinates. Their morale fell rapidly... They could do nothing, nor take any counter measures. She had made a great mistake in taking this dangerous path, an unforgivable mistake...
The path curved round as if in the shape of a bay cut in the wall of the ravine. Along one side of it, went the two scouts. They were completely visible when entering the path's curve to their counterparts on the other side. Close, but separated from them by an abyss. Suddenly a cat appeared, conjured out of the rain. He had chosen a very good place to attack. The people, surprised on a narrow ledge, reacted too rapidly. The leading man lost his balance and instinctively grabbed at his companion in order to prevent himself from falling down the cliff. The second man also tried to catch his predecessor... Kaga howled with rage. The attacker hadn't even touched either of the scouts!
The human screams died away at the ravine's bottom.
A giant cat sped along the rocky ledge with ease, careless and almost nonchalant. Hel-Krehiri felt tears of anger and powerlessness gathering in her throat. She moved to fight against the enemy with a sword in her hand. Slowly
and deliberately, step by step, with her back braced against rough rock. The cat disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared. She just saw his back in a crevasse full of gravel. The crevasse had been cut into the wall by flowing water. The only sign that the guard was climbing, was a small sprinkling of stones. He reached higher and higher, out of her sight. At last, the trickle of stones thinned, then stopped.
Hel-Krehiri pulled herself together and took control of the squad. She couldn't let them dwell upon how helpless their companions had been a moment ago. She told them to prepare their crossbows. With a crooked smile, she asked who'd go with her as the new vanguard. Before a reply came, the warrior cat attacked again. Pebbles and sand fell on heads and shoulders, as they stood on the rocky ledge. The great Gadba was descending. His armour crunched against the rock. Even a cat couldn't stop on an almost vertical slope, but then he didn't intend to do so! A grey shape dressed in an iron mail, half-fell, half-jumped down the slope. Someone managed to shoot at the cat with a crossbow. The bolt missed. The next moment the attacker fell with his full strength on the man's neck. Almost blinded, the attacked man thrust back with his sword. The sword grated on mail. Then man and cat together fell down into the abyss.
Thirty or forty feet below the path along which Kaga led her people, was another rocky ledge. The man crashed into it with his all weight and hung on the edge, with broken limbs. The cat landed beside him. For a moment it lay motionless. Then it moved loosely on the rock, then shook its head as if to recover from shock. Someone shot with a crossbow. The Gadba realised this was no joke. He leapt up, staggered, limped, then run away as fast as he could. Looking on, Kaga felt for the first time, that the Gadba weren't fighting with her people... 'Assassins of Rahgar'..-Oh no, this hadn't been a fight, it had been three murders.
The second fight took place that evening. The dreadful abyss had been left behind, so it took a different course. Someone's sharp eye saw low shapes, hidden in the rain,
in time. Their prepared crossbows didn't let them down. Hel-Krehiri at last felt the sweetness of the revenge. One soldier died instantly, a second with a shattered shoulder crawled away and hid amidst the rocks. She ordered pursuit, but the cat had disappeared. She realised then, that if the wound wasn't mortal, the guard would reach his squad for sure. She was aware of their vitality, endurance and resistance to pain.
Hel-Krehiri, with hidden fear and visible rage, waited for nightfall. Her hiding place was no secret to the cat soldiers. The leader of the cats had had more than enough time to gather his forces and prepare an attack. She couldn't even put outposts around, as she had only six men left, and all must stay on watch. For the first time she wondered if she hadn't pushed too far. She had already stopped thinking about the Shergards' stronghold.
None of the highwaymen slept that night. Not a single blade was sheathed. They waited, their backs against the rocks, with a sword in their right hands and a knife in their left. Nobody talked. They just listened to the rain's murmuring.
Time passed and still nothing happened.
Kaga began to believe that the wounded guard had fallen to his death somewhere among the rocks. That had probably saved her squad. Better than any of her subordinates, she knew how useless was listening and staring into darkness. Of course, even a cat could make a noise. His armour could bump on the rocks or his helmet could hit them. Still, the chance that an experienced guard from Grombelard's elite forces would make such a mistake was insignificant.
The girl hidden in the darkness was not visible to her subordinates. She gritted her teeth and tried not to cry. Her tears were tears of regret, not anger. There were unhappy creatures of this world. Those were born in the wrong bodies. Women with a man's heart, men with woman's soul. Hel-Krehiri was one of the most miserable creatures in that world. She was a cat imprisoned in a human body. Big, clumsy and unwanted. She would have given half her life, to have had one of those wonderful warriors' shapes.
Those warriors, who were going to kill her... to murder her.
6
The descent into the valley wasn't too difficult. To be precise it was a broad, level road descending from the top of the pass. Karenira wondered, if it was the remains of an ancient road, built by the mysterious Shergards. It was possible...
The large lake at the valley bottom gave a gloomy impression. It was completely dead. Black, transparent, and cold, like Grombelardian rain.
Karenira stood on a promontory cut in the lake's surface. She looked to its bottom, the sides shelved steeply. She couldn't say how deep she could see. She also didn't know where the shadows of the underwater rocks gave way to the dark depths.
The transparency of the water was mesmerising. For a long time, the power of the watery abyss caught the lone bow-woman's attention. Karenira imagined herself, going down and down into the magic, underwater world. Forever immovable, neither torn by the wind nor lashed by the rain. A world forever untouched by human tread...
Then, she looked up. She looked at the other shore, to a point shown by the cape. There, was supposed to be the entrance to the underground labyrinth built by the powerful Shergards. The entrance had been hidden well from the wrong eyes.
She had to go around the lake.
This was no easy matter. The terrain was difficult - it might well be easier to go back uphill along the valley's slopes. The valley bottom was a huge rock field. Only a small part it was covered by water, the rest looked as if a mad giant had shattered the peaks and thrown them down inside the hollow.
The Huntress wondered if she could manage to get around the lake before night.
She shouldn't have come down so far. Yet, the lake's surface had looked so wildly beautiful and attractive, that Karenira desired resting by its shore. She wanted to stay the night and move to the other shore the next morning. She had no reason to hurry. Hel-Krehiri could discover the secret or not. Was it of any importance? Karenira knew the cats very well. It seemed obvious that the young highway woman would stay in the massif of Medeven for ever, and so would her people.
But was it so very sure?
The Huntress found a convenient place among the rocks. She took off her pack and sat with a bottle in her hand. She leant against a rough stone, examining her surroundings and, with small draughts, drank a little wine.
Yes, she knew the cats, but she also knew Kaga... They had met a few times before, because both of them wandered around Bador. The first two meetings weren't too friendly. The next two, after Kragdob's departure, were brief, fleeting and brutal.
The Vulture Killer didn't like Kaga. The feeling was mutual. There was nothing complex in the origin of this dislike. It was simple. Two women in one place could not like each other. Karenira was astonished by Kaga's authority over her people and envied her youth and beauty. In turn, Kaga couldn't forgive the legend built up around Karenira's person. The Huntress was part of the Mountains, as much as... Medeva's waterfalls, the Black Wood, or the Pass of the Mists. With men, all of this would have led to a mutual respect. In case of women it inevitably antagonized them, a normal thing on every earth and under every sky.
The Huntress wondered if the Gadba soldiers would be up to their job. Many times before traps had been set to catch Hel-Krehiri. Admittedly, a cat squad from Rahgar had never been among the hunters...
Never mind, it wasn't her problem anyway. She had spoken the truth to the guard's leader. She could take no part in a quarrel between soldiers and highwaymen. If such news got out into the Mountains, sooner or later one or
other would get her. For thirteen years she had balanced on a narrow line of neutrality. She didn't intend to fall from it now.
Unless she was pushed to it...
"...and what if she said to herself "you're as tough and malicious as a chastity belt. Everyone is afraid of you and tries to cheat you, but that's the end of it. Kaga and the Guard know that making new enemies is valueless. Besides..."
She shrugged her shoulders.
•
She didn't reach her destination by nightfall. Walking in the dark could end in a broken neck, and she was too afraid of the pain. In the downpour, Karenira found a place to stay for the night. The evening grew grey.
She was tired. Lack of sleep the previous night had tired her. The march through the mountains hadn't been an easy walk either.
She ate some food and lay in a cleft covering her from the rain. She fell asleep almost at once.
Shouts awoke her.
It was raining no more. Karenira reached for her bow, but she didn't emerge from her hiding place. She listened, frowning.
A battle was taking place. She could easily determine the direction, but not the distance. It could have been a hundred steps or a few miles. Voices, carried by wind and helped by echoes, travel great distances in the mountains.
She had no intention of marching straight into a battle. Not likely! Cats' eyes were good in the darkness, but in the confusion of battle... she could as easily feel a sword's blows as a cat's weight on her head.
"No" she muttered "they are fighting. Very well, are you lying in a hole? Yes, so lie, and go nowhere. No one will find you here unless they tread on you. Then you can bite his leg."
Soon the sounds of fighting fell silent.
7
Dawn was breaking.
Hel-Krehiri sat under a rock on the lake's shore. Her sword lay across her knees. Rain washed its pommel and rinsed trickles of blood over her naked thighs and rolled up skirt.
Feline and human bodies lay all around. It appeared that one of the hairy soldiers was still alive. The spur of the cat's helmet was driven into a human belly. It held the Gadba's body in a half-sitting position, but in his neck a wound made by a sword could be seen. The two had killed each other.
Kaga leant her head on the rock behind her. She looked at the battlefield.
The Huntress examined the situation from her hiding place. Then she came into highway woman's sight. Kaga slightly bent her head and looked on in total silence and with perfect indifference.
The Huntress glanced carefully at the battlefield. No one was alive. She went to Kaga.
"Are you wounded?"
Hel-Krehiri gently laughed. Then she lifted up her hand showing a trivial scratch on her wrist.
"They'll find you." said Karenira.
The highway woman pointed up. Far, far away on a rocky spire sat a cat. It was difficult to see him amidst the annoying, wavering drizzle... yet, he was there.
"Huntress... what are you searching for here?"
Karenira sat on a stone.
"You killed the Dartan" she said.
"He killed himself..."
Hel-Krehiri stopped and looked more watchfully. "You found his body?"
"He was still alive..."
"Then I don't have to say anything. He was supposed to take me here. I don't know this area. When he got to know what I was looking for, he tried to run away."
"He wasn't aware that you were the leader of this group."
"What's the difference? A job is a job. He accepted it."
"When you had found what you were looking for... you'd have killed him. At least he thought so."
"And he was right."
They sized each other up for a while.
"And do you know what I am looking for?" asked Kaga.
"I know."
"I couldn't find it and now I'll die among these rocks. You came to revenge that brave fellow from Dartan? Unnecessarily."
Karenira shrugged her shoulders... then, suddenly she frowned and bit her lips.
"Oh" she said lost in thought "maybe you're right... Actually, perhaps I did come to do it..."
What had Vilan been asking about? "Did you kill those soldiers in the Black Wood?" But., after all he had known the truth... and for a very long time! Suddenly in a flash Karenira understood the rules of the game.
Of course, the Black Wood. Many years ago, she had found there a great flock of Vultures. It was too big for her to handle them in a lone fight. Then, soldier patrols had been looking for Legionnaires missing in the mountains. She lied, saying that she knew where to find them, and took the rescue team to a place called the Black Wood, at the centre of the Vultures' nests. The soldiers, having no way out, had helped her to defeat the flock.
However, they had all died.
No one had ever proved that she had deliberately brought them to that battle. Yet just gossip was enough for the soldiers. They started to distrust her. The effects of their dislike she had felt until now. The dying Dartan man had wanted to hear the truth... a truth he already knew, because for sure he had visited the Black Wood. Besides he knew a lot about the Heavy Mountains, the Vultures and the Huntress.
She had lied to him. Thus she fell a victim to an intrigue she had set up herself. She had been sent to look for myths, just so that she would get in Hel-Krehiri's way.
"I'm leaving. Forget about me, pretty one." she said with barely hidden anger.
"Wait." said Kaga lazily "you came here, just to see how the guards killed me? Just wait for the end of this spectacle. Then, find the Shergards' tunnels and the legendary Huntress will achieve something that Hel-Krehiri couldn't."
Karenira stood up red with anger.
"Tunnels! There are no tunnels, no labyrinth nor a stronghold. It's a fairy tale. Who sold you that secret, and how much did he take you for?"
Kaga answered with smiling mockery. "Never mind. They are, or they aren't. It's good, that you are here. Well, after all legends are still necessary..."
She stood nimbly up and wiped her sword with the edge of her skirt. Karenira stepped back and put her hand on a hilt. She knew she must calm down, but in defiance her anger grew greater and greater. She had been made a tool. A blind instrument assigned to take revenge.
She said forcibly. "Hel-Krehiri, I would kill you a hundred times, even just on a whim... but the reason I have today isn't mine, so leave me be."
Kaga jumped at her like a spark coming from a fire. Prepared, Karenira tore off her coat and threw it at her attacker. At the same time she jumped back. She drew her sword and parried her enemy's blade. Kaga attacked again. The groaning of clashing blades echoed among the rocks. The girl laughed, feeling her superiority. She was faster, much faster and more agile. Karenira's cut jacket revealed a badly injured and bleeding breast. The Vulture Killer was retreating carefully.
Kaga lowered her sword. She looked as if she was inviting Karenira to attack.
"Is that all?" she asked in utter contempt. "Huntress, how can it be possible that you're such a mediocrity. You have too much meat on you. Fighting isn't like working in a forge... how did you manage to survive in this country?"
Karenira, still watchful and careful, thought once more of the trick played on her. She knew she courted death, but there was no way back...
Hel-Krehiri attacked again. She was as fast as lightning, or better, like a cat. Crossed blades sang again.
A heavy weapon flew into air and spun. Then it fell to the rocks, clanking.
8
The soldiers were waiting at the pass.
Kaga stopped. She tugged strongly at a loop made from a leather strap, tightened around Karenira's neck. She was knocked to her knees. Kaga stood beside her, parting her hostage's hair with the point of her sword. She waited, looking at the squad.
A great, black Gadba slowly came up to meet her.
"You won't attack me, will you guard?" she asked.
The cat sat.
"Be not afraid."
Kaga sheathed her sword and raised her hand in Night's Greeting. The feline gesture was as natural for her as for a creature with claws.
"The best warriors in the Mountains. From now I'll always avoid Rahgar." she said.
The Gadba paid her admiration no attention, even though it was genuine. A moment later he said: "The question is, will I avoid Gromb and Bador..."
It wasn't a vain threat.
The cat lost his interest in Kaga, observing Karenira.
"Legend, how does it come to this?" he asked.
The Huntress lifted her head. She looked like seven disasters. She had a huge bruise and a bump on her forehead where she had been hit by the hilt of Kaga's sword. Beneath her cut jacket, a large stain reddened her shirt. Her hands were tied behind her back.
Kaga pulled the leather strap. Karenira choked.
"Talk with me leader, not with her. I propose a treaty. Give me your word that for the next day and night you won't chase me, then I will leave you this... old woman. Otherwise she'll come with me. If I see a cat's tail or rump among the rocks I will kill her instantly."
The guard considered the proposition.
"Night will come soon." he observed. "Hel-Krehiri, I will tear out your eyes before you know you are attacked."
"So, maybe you'll be able to check if I can cut her throat despite that. Maybe yes, maybe no..."
The cat looked at the kneeling, mauled woman with a leather strap around her neck. He ruffled his whiskers.
"Untie her and run away. One day and one night isn't long."
Kaga took out her knife and cut through the bonds around Karenira's wrists, but she left the leather strap around her neck. She nodded with a slight smile and moved towards the top of the pass.
"A cat's word." she repeated.
The guard's tail lightly thumped his mail covered side.
•
Karenira sat under a rock. She was taking off her dressing. The wound on her breast wasn't too deep, but it was very painful. The bow woman had already forgotten the bump on her head. She hissed, touching her injured breast. She thought about the permanent, ugly scar and her eyes went dark.
"Oh no, this I will not forgive..."
The cats' camp looked completely different from a human soldiers' camp. Leather sacks with provisions were gathered in one place. That was the only similarity. Firstly, there was no motion. A human won't sit long in one place; now and then he will shift position and straighten his stiff limbs. The Gadba warriors found many clefts and hollows, and crept inside them. At once, they fell asleep. Only their ears remained pricked up and alert, pointing in various directions trying to detect any sound apart from the rain's murmur. Karenira knew that a cat doesn't dream in the way that humans do. Some of his senses are still watching. A perpetually sleeping cat guard was enough to drive any bureaucratic human officer into a fury. Officers often couldn't understand that such naps were not neglect of duty.
Karenira returned in her thoughts to her disfiguring scar.
"I won't forgive," she repeated, dismally.
In the last rays of daylight the black shape of the leader of the cat squad appeared.
"Huntress, what will you not forgive?"
"A breast cut in half like an arse!" she answered angrily "Shall I continue my report?"
The wound wasn't bleeding anymore, but still it hurt. Karenira arrived at the conclusion that it would be better to chill it with rain, than to play at making new dressings.
The cat officer gave her wound exactly as much attention as it deserved.
"Legend, so you are an old woman?" he asked, settling down among the rocks.
She tried to remember if cats were said to be malicious. "You'll wait here all night?" she asked coldly. "Maybe yes, maybe no... I said only that we would not start to chase her. Only that... Huntress."
She shrugged. Then carefully put her jacket on over the remains of her shirt. She stood up to buckle a sword belt on her hip. She carefully plaited her hair, tied it with a strap, and threw it over her back. Then, she picked up her bow and quiver.
"I didn't promise anything." Yellow eyes shone close to the earth. "That gossip about Hel-Krehiri isn't gossip at all." he said "Huntress, she IS a cat. You know, if I had known that earlier maybe I would..." He didn't finish. "Legend, you have cheated us," he stated calmly. She frowned. "That's true, I couldn't manage her alone, the guards had to help me..." She nodded. She was sure that the black officer would see this gesture in the darkness. When she withdrew, the cat closed his eyes.
"I hadn't thought about that. You're still lying." he said staring straight ahead
He snorted, then fell asleep.
9
The day was simply beautiful - for Grombelard. It wasn't raining. The mass of clouds cracked in places to let the
sun appear. The air over the mountains was full of steam. In the warm rays numerous, usually grey and invisible puddles shone. The brooks were glimmering.
Kaga was free. She felt that freedom with her whole soul. She had walked all night and half a day sparing no effort. Kaga had escaped from Medeva's loop. Now she could leave the path and go anywhere she wanted. The chance that the guards would find her, in Grombelard, didn't even enter her head. Certainly, 24 hours isn't much if there is no chance to choose a route. Now, having escaped from Medeven she need worry about nothing. She felt a wild happiness, drunk with freedom.
She allowed herself a short rest. The bag with provisions was becoming empty. Hel-Krehiri deliberately chewed the last piece of cured meat. It would have to last for a long time.
She lifted a thin pouch to her mouth. The remains of the Huntress' wine gurgled inside. War booty! While drinking, Kaga absently stared at a rock a hundred yards away. She couldn't comprehend what she was seeing. At the same moment, a long, light arrow pierced her war booty, and made it useless. Kaga threw the wineskin away as if it had scalded her. She spat out the wine and grabbed her crossbow.
"Stay!" Hel-Krehiri became motionless. Because of the distance she couldn't see Karenira's face clearly enough. The bow woman bit her lips almost to blood. Shooting the first arrow had made her unhealed wound reopen. Now, the arm bracing the bowstring was trembling so strongly that an arrow would miss its aim for sure...
"Come here! Leave your crossbow and come!" Karenira shouted. Her voice shook.
Kaga was clearly visible. She realised she must obey. At least, for a time. She could laugh at the Huntress's sword, but her bow was famous throughout the Mountains... and even if only half of it was true, it meant that she missed one arrow in a hundred. Coming nearer, Kaga glanced around looking for shelter. She stopped suddenly, looking with disbelief as her opponent threw her formidable weapon
aside, she then jumped from a rock and attacked Kaga with her sword. Kaga shouted wildly, then drew her sword. They met half-way.
Karenira was cautious, watchful and concentrated. She looked almost the same as the day before, beside the lake. But her sleeveless jacket showed the lack of a shirt. Apparently it had been used on dressings during the last night and day. Kaga saw a thin trickle of blood dripping from a wound on the breast. The bow woman kept her sword in both hands. Hel-Krehiri looked with involuntary respect at the tough, muscular arms swollen under the leather bands used by archers.
"You threaten me, Huntress? With what?" she scoffed, showing her teeth in a dangerous half-smile. "By Szern. One lesson isn't enough for you...? While you kept your bow, you could still shoot!"
"If I could I would shoot," she answered calmly. "But, while you were sitting I would have had to kill later, I wasn't able to hit even a leg. You're stupid, girl."
Hel-Krehiri cooled somehow, struck by her opponent's steadiness. She made a slight movement with her sword. "All right, come on," she said. "I'll put this there, where nothing has been for a long time. Do you still remember men, old woman? Because I'm sure they have forgotten you..."
Karenira stepped forward, almost ostentatiously, holding her sword over her head. She blinked with her eerie eyes, then brandished the sword like a club. Effortlessly, Kaga parried a blow... and only with greatest difficulty kept hold of her weapon. At once her weak counterattack met with so mighty an answer, that girl's stiffened arms were pushed to one side, they were unable to follow the weapon's move...
Karenira's sword broke in half.
For a moment, they stood unarmed before each other. Then Kaga jumped back, but the other was as fast as she was. A blow to the chin almost knocked off Kaga's head. She waved her arms, trying to keep her balance. A second, equally strong blow, and her legs buckled under her.
Half-conscious, Hel-Krehiri stepped back, stumbled and fell into a hollow full of freezing rain water. Karenira went over there, bent over and hit her once more, with all her strength. The unconscious sword mistress lay on her back, on the point of drowning in a puddle. The bow woman grabbed her clothes and dragged her out of the water. Then she sat Kaga up. Karenira roared with laughter at Kaga's stupefied, dull eyes. She let the body go, and it again fell into the puddle.
"I'll wait..." she said, making awry face. A pain that she had forgotten, came back with new power.
Kaga got up on all fours, her head hanging. Spittle dripped from her mouth, mixed with blood from her cut lips. s
"How did you... Do that?" she muttered with great effort.
"I have a lot of meat on me," answered the bow woman, displaying her shoulders with satisfaction, "and sword fighting is very similar to working in a forge..."
Kaga started to laugh. She coughed. It was clear, that for some reason the Huntress had no intention of killing her.
"Do not thank me," said Karenira as if she could guess her thoughts. "I liked Vilan, but not so much that he could use me in his games. You'll laugh, but I led you out of the Crown just to spite a dead man... I think the Gadba knew that I had cheated them. Hel-Krehiri, I thought I should make it clear to you, too."
Kaga, still on all fours in the water, was coming to her senses. She spat a bloody spittle. Her upper lip, now badly swollen, looked like a piece of a raw meat. "I don't believe it..."
Karenira squatted down at the edge of the pool. "Shall I change your mind?" she asked. Kaga scooped some water up in her hands and bathed her lips.
"And if I had killed you there by the lake. How could
you know... ?"
"I gave you an idea and watched you to see if you would understand what was going on. In ten years time, when you are an old woman, you will also easily know what children are thinking."
Kaga froze, her hand at her aching lips.
"What about... Cats?"
An astonished Karenira followed her glance. 'Assassins' were appearing from behind the rocks. They ran with a light, feline trot, passing them by as if they were thin air, at a distance of maybe a few steps. The small packs fastened to their backs bumped with the rhythm of their movement. Their mail coats clanked quietly. In the middle of this seemingly undisciplined group, a great, black tomcat spoke to his second-in-command.
"...but if we ever meet them again... no matter a she-cat or a Vulture Killer... you cannot mock Imperial soldiers..."
Translated by Agata Koc