MAGE 10 By Heck Comments to heck@heckster.co.uk CHAPTER TEN A BALMY BREEZE sighed as it playfully chased tiny ripples over the flat sea. Bickering gulls screamed raucously under the few scudding white clouds, wheeling round the small, gaily painted boat that stood at anchor at the mouth of the wide bay. Relaxing in the back, one arm trailing lazily over the transom, old Parvis was wreathed in blue, aromatic smoke as he puffed contentedly at his ancient pipe. Comfortably clad in a green smock, a pair of loose, coarse cloth trousers tied about with string just below the knees, and rope soled canvas shoes, he was a grizzled old man who had taken a meagre living from the sea for many years. Nearby, the glass floats, that marked the position of his lobster pots, bobbed gently like giant opalescent pearls. Finally, he finished his pipe. Pushing back his floppy cloth cap, he climbed to his feet and balanced expertly in the unstable vessel. His horny hands, aged but still strong, laid hold of the line and he began to haul it in with the ease of years. To his satisfaction, the first pot held a big, blue, angry lobster that semaphored its great claws at him indignantly. As he extracted the crustacean from the trap, Parvis' eye was caught by a movement. A tiny wake barrelled through the water toward him on a parallel course, moving very fast. Something small was zipping through the brine, just below the surface. Parvis watched, puzzled, as the wake approached and surged past. In the brief glimpse he got, it looked like a small package moving under its own power toward the coast. Parvis lifted his cap and scratched his grey scalp. This was strange indeed. But he had seen much in his lifetime at sea, and very little phased him. He shrugged, spat over the side of the boat, and returned to hauling his pots. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * It was a measure of the man's popularity that the people so readily rallied round their king. They had ferried wooden buckets in a human chain, dousing the fire quickly and efficiently, and were now sorting through the rubble for the trappings of their royalty. Brenhya and Gurghan assisted by shifting heavy timbers and pieces of salvageable furniture. King Pabloth himself, Chthord, sported a large, brightly coloured contusion that decorated his forehead. He was concussed, and laid prone on a bench, being attended by Oudreya, who sponged his brow with a moist, cooling pad of cloth. "I should be up helping", he complained, trying to lift himself up on one elbow. "I can't lie here all day while my people work on my behalf". He tried to rise, but Oudreya restrained him with a strong hand. "Just lie still, Your Majesty". Her voice held a curious, purring quality he had not noticed before. "That was a nasty bang on the head you had. You should rest up. Besides, Brenhya would never forgive me if I let you". "No, I must", he protested, struggling against her. He very soon thought better of it. "Oh my head!" He settled back with a sigh. "Perhaps you're right". He raised a questing hand to his forehead, and was rewarded by the discovery of a large, tender, lump. "That's quite an egg I've got". Chthord turned his head to watch the salvage operation. Brenhya and Gurghan were at either end of a massive chest that, he remembered, took six men and a block-and-tackle to get it into the palace in the first place. The warrior saw him looking, and shifted the weight slightly so she could raise one hand in a cheery wave, flashing her best smile. He waved feebly back, gently shaking his head in wonder. Again. "I'm glad she came", he said to Oudreya. "I'm afraid for her, but I'm glad she came". "She's something special, isn't she?" "She certainly is". He subjected Oudreya to careful scrutiny, probably for the first time. "I think you're quite a special person yourself. A were- tigress! I never would have believed it". The woman shifted nervously. "Does it make you uncomfortable?" "Well, yes it does, now that you come to mention it. But don't worry about it. Brenhya trusts you, and that's good enough for me". Oudreya's eyes were downcast. "Thank you", she whispered. "She seems to like you. And you seem to get along with her". "I'm very grateful to her", Oudreya smiled, more confidently now. "She's the first person to accept me for what I am, and didn't fear me. I spent years hiding from people, until I was forced to attack her. She defeated me ..." "Hold on. Were you in your tigress shape, then?" "Yes. And I'm a big tigress. Very powerful". "Wow! Go on". "Well, she defeated me, as I said, but as soon as she realised what I was, when I changed back, she was kind and sympathetic. They bound me at night, at first, and Gurghan still doesn't trust me, I think, but Brenhya spent some time getting to know me, and befriended me. The minute she understood why and when the change was likely to come upon me, she let me go unbound. She made it clear that I had no obligation, but that she'd be happy to have my company. That's a first for me. Nobody ever treated me so well. I'd do anything for her, even give my life". "Yes". Chthord gave a snuffling laugh. "She has that effect on people". "Who has an effect on people". Brenhya's mellow voice interrupted their conversation as the warrior strolled up. "Brenhya!". Chthord's face was wreathed in smiles as he reached out to take her hand. "Thank you for saving my life. And thank you for helping my people". Brenhya returned his smile as she sat down at his head. She smoothed his hair back tenderly. "Don't mention it. I think we've salvaged everything worth salvaging. The Chamberlain has been asking around, and he's found an empty house you can have for now. Gurghan's glaring at people to get your stuff taken there. There's a man called Sando, says he's a builder. He says he can clear the site and rebuild the palace almost exactly. He's just waiting for your word". Her smile broadened. "So things aren't as bad as they look, eh?" A large shape loomed over them, and they looked to see Gurghan standing with arms folded. "We haff finished!", he announced. "Doess Your Majessty want to see where we are putting hiss things?!" "Yes". He sat up and got shakily to his feet. His head swam, and he reached out to take Brenhya's steadying hand. "But perhaps I should take it easy". "I can carry you, if you like", Brenhya offered. "No!" His replay was perhaps too quick. "Not in front of my people, if you don't mind". "Of course. I understand". "A king doess not want to be thought off ass weak!" Gurghan moved closer to Chthord. "Lean on me! I will walk with you!" Brenhya watched as the two men made slow progress into town, feeling uncertain about the emotions that washed through her. She understood love. She loved her Sisters in the Order, without question, and she loved her friends unconditionally. But the feelings she had for Chthord were, somehow, different, and she did not understand them. She had taken lovers before, many times, both male and female, and had felt love for them all. She acknowledged to herself that she was a highly sensuous and sensual woman, and gave of herself freely and joyfully, as interested in the pleasure of her partners as in her own. Her philosophy on life was simple; take the good with the bad, and deal with the bad quickly and efficiently. But savour the good, and share it where you can. It had served her well so far. But the feelings she held for Chthord were different. She felt joy when she saw him, contentment while with him, and loss when he went away. It was nothing she had ever felt before, and it left her feeling slightly confused and, for the first time in her life, unsure of herself. "Brenhya". Brenhya ignored Oudreya's interruption. "Brenhya!" More urgently. "I don't want to worry you. It might not be a good time. But it's been several hours since I ate". Brenhya frowned. She knew what that meant. "Right. Let's get you something to eat". "It's gone too far for that. I have the urge. I need to hunt, and soon". The warrior looked concerned. "How soon? Are you a danger to these people?" "No. I can hold out long enough to get clear of town. But I must go now". "But you said, when you're the tigress, you retain some of your human characteristics. Can't you resist attacking them?" "No. I mean, yes, as long as they are no threat to me. But can you imagine their response to suddenly finding a tigress among them?" "Good point". She studied Oudreya for a moment. "Start out, then. I'll go and get Makaar. I'm going with you. I could do with getting out of town myself, for a while". * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "Why, why, why?" Lon paced up and down between the stacks in the library, slapping a hand to his forehead, cursing himself for all kinds of a fool and looking decidedly depressed. "Why didn't you think it through? Great idiot! You should know her, by now. If she thinks you're in trouble, she'll come. If you tell her she shouldn't, she'll come. If she thinks Drosklyn Chaithe is messing with her, she'll come. What an idiot! "Trying to warn her off was the very worst thing you could have done". * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * White patches of clouds, appliquéd to the azure of the sky, stitched around by flocks of wheeling starlings, cast stately shadows over the patchwork landscape. Relaxing astride Makaar, Brenhya leaned back and watched the birds moving in unison against the blue. Curious, she thought, how pleasant and relaxing it was riding sedately across the fields in the company of a large and magnificent tigress. She looked down at the lithe, striped shape pacing with grace and power just ahead. The beast moved effortlessly, almost flowing, great paws padding noiselessly through the cultivated grass. This was the first time Brenhya had seen Oudreya in her tigress form in daylight and, she had to admit, the animal was beautiful. Brenhya had caught up with Oudreya just in time to witness the change. The woman had calmly and deliberately removed her clothing and laid down comfortably in preparation, obviously performing rituals she had undertaken many times before. There had been gristly sounds and weird contortions as her body's morphology underwent the transformation, her teeth lengthened into lethal daggers, and the orange and black striped fur appeared. The warrior would have found this fascinating, if not for the fact that the woman was obviously in great pain. Her bones and muscles were forced into conformations human tissue was never meant to assume, and her skull was reshaped into a configuration totally alien to her 'normal' appearance. It was impossible to believe that this would not cause enormous pain, yet Brenhya was totally unprepared for the agony her friend experienced, and she had to look away as she contemplated what it would be like to have this excruciating pain as a normal part of your life. Makaar had been, understandably, nervous at first, in the presence of such a predator, but Brenhya's calming and experienced horsemastership had soothed her fears. The mare still would not allow the tigress to approach nearer than a couple of strides, and met such advances with laid back ears and bared, spade-like teeth, stamping her hard hoof in warning, but the human part of the were-tigress understood the warnings and respected the horse's fight or flight space. Now, the two animals walked in near comfortable companionship. They were beginning to leave the farmed lands behind them, now, and enter the heather covered moorlands. Here, they hoped to find wild goats or deer, that Oudreya could hunt without incurring loss to the local husbandmen. The terrain began to slope gently as they neared the foot of the Nine Hills, and from her vantage point, more than nine feet above the ground on the back of the big bay mare, Brenhya kept a keen eye open for potential quarry. She had noticed fresh goat spoor on the trail already. Of a sudden the tigress halted, and crouched motionless close to the ground. Brenhya reined in Makaar and stroked her neck, keeping her still and quiet. She was amazed that the animal, closer to the ground and with a restricted view as a result, had apparently detected prey first. Following the tigress' gaze, she found a small herd of wild goats not far away; on the edge of the herd, a mother and kid browsed unconcernedly. The atmosphere became highly charged with anticipation. Brenhya watched as the tigress angled slowly forward and away to the left to take her upwind, gaze fixed on the goat, the black tip of her tail twitching like a hovering hummingbird. The warrior held her position, hardly daring to move in case she spooked the goats. Oudreya snaked through the heather, plastering herself to the ground, making herself as small as possible. Every time the goat lifted its browsing head, the tigress froze like a statue. The kid, oblivious to danger, suckled greedily from its mother, butting impatiently at her udder to encourage the flow of milk. Inch by inch, the predator closed in on her target, and Brenhya found herself holding her breath as she watched. At one time, the goat stared straight at Brenhya astride Makaar, but apparently decided that the horse shape, with its strange appendage on top, was no threat and returned to the continuous process of eating. All I have to do, Brenhya thought to herself, is unship the Wheelbow, and I could take out that goat from here. In fact, her hand did stray towards the boot in which the mighty weapon was stowed, but she stayed herself. This was Oudreya's hunt, and the warrior would not deny her. In the form of the tigress, Oudreya was subject to all the advantages and constraints inherent to tigers everywhere, with the additional bonus that she retained her human intelligence. She was conscious, therefore, of the enormous explosive power and extraordinary flexibility the shape contained. But she was equally conscious that, like all tigers, she did not have the speed nor the stamina for a sustained chase. Necessarily, then, her hunting strategy was one of stealth and ambush. She needed to get as close as possible to her prey, allowing her to explode from hiding and despatch the target instantly or after a short chase. The tigress crept on, closing the distance slowly and carefully, until she was within twenty feet of the unsuspecting caprines, her whole body flattened to the ground. With the tension all but crackling in the air, Brenhya was amazed that the goats did not sense it. The big cat shifted her position slightly, bunching her powerful haunches beneath her, ready for the pounce. Although she had been watching carefully, when it came the spring took Brenhya completely by surprise. The tigress burst from the heather like a silent storm, crossing the space in less than a second. The goat began to wheel away, but a swat from a huge paw took its hind legs away from under it, bowling it over in the brush. As it staggered to its feet, Oudreya launched herself in a secondary spring to land on its back. But the goat twisted away with remarkable agility and bounded over the tussocks. She was after it in an instant, but in its natural habitat the goat had an advantage. It put on an amazing burst of speed which carried it off, leaving the tigress in its wake. She came to halt with a deep, full throated roar of frustration. The other members of the herd did not wait to see what the commotion was about, but took to their heels immediately. Brenhya assessed the situation in an instant. If Oudreya's hunt was unsuccessful, she may become a danger to Makaar, and Brenhya knew she would not allow that to happen. She applied her heels to the mare's flanks, and the horse surged forward into a gallop. The ground was uneven and the clumps of heather were a constant danger, but Makaar was sure-footed as well as swift. Feeling a surge of adrenalin pumping through her veins, Brenhya brought her round in a swinging arc, circling round behind the herd. Her powerful thighs clamped tight to the saddle as she leaned forward over Makaar's arching neck. She yelled and whooped as she turned the herd, presenting herself as a present and imminent danger, distracting them from the real threat in orange and black. It worked. The herd perceived her as the more pressing hazard, fleeing in panic. Straight toward the tigress. Oudreya's human intellect spotted immediately what Brenhya was trying to do, and she crouched down, waiting, in the grass. The herd jinked right and left, moving as a single entity, as they tried to evade the yelling, waving hellion behind them. But Brenhya was an expert rider, and turned Makaar contrapunctally, keeping the goats stampeding onward. Oudreya readied herself. The herd was very close, now, and from the looks of things, were going to pass right over her. She would not have to bother selecting a target; there would be plenty of choice. Bleating in fear and alarm, the herd thundered toward her. Timing her moment pertfectly, Oudreya rose to all fours. A big billygoat almost ran blindly into her. Careful to avoid his scimitar horns, she lifted a forepaw, sweeping through his front legs. The goat performed an involuntary somersault, and Oudreya was upon him before he realised what had happened. She pinned him with one powerful foreleg, and clamped her great jaws around his throat. Flanks heaving, more from exhilaration than exhaustion, she shut off the goat's windpipe, suffocating the struggling animal; those struggles becoming weaker and weaker as his life ebbed away. Brenhya reined in Makaar not far away, both mount and rider panting with excitement. She let the reins fall across her horse's neck and crooked a knee around the pommel, watching with almost professional interest the neat and efficient way in which the assassin made her kill. She brushed a stray hair from her face with the inside of her wrist, and dabbed with a cloth at the sweat runnels between her breasts. Oudreya crouched over her kill, holding it tight in her jaws until sure it was dead. Brenhya stepped down from her horse and hunkered down nearby, fascinated by the efficiency of the kill and unable to tear her eyes from the sight. She felt the adrenalin rush slowly dissipating, and was slightly horrified at her own bloodthirsty reactions. She had not expected to be exhilarated by the slaughter of an innocent animal this way. The goat's feet twitched feebly, and it became still. The tigress held her grip for a moment longer, before releasing her hold and standing. She stretched luxuriously and yawned hugely, displaying gleaming seven inch fangs bloodied with the gore of her kill. Her yellow eyes fell on the woman crouching close by, and she padded leisurely toward her. Brenhya tensed just in case, but the tigress approached boldly and rubbed her great head affectionately against the warrior, a rumbling purr deep in her throat. Brenhya smiled, and scratched behind the beast's ears. The great cat moved away after a while, returning to sniff deeply at the cooling carcass. Then, to Brenhya's surprise, she stepped away from the body and changed back into naked human form. The transition obviously caused the were-tigress pain as before, but did not seem to be as tortuous as the change from human to tigress. Brenhya surmised that the return to her natural form must be less traumatic. She got to her feet and dug in Makaar's saddlebags, retrieving Oudreya's clothes. She stood with hands on hips, head cocked quizzically to one side. "What's the matter?", she asked, tossing the clothes to her unique friend. "Aren't you going to eat?" "The tigress needs to hunt", Oudreya explained, smiling as she pulled her shift over her head. "But Oudreya prefers her meat cooked". * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * .