Of Books and Bounty

Lynxana threaded her needle with care. With precise movements, the tall lynx sewed the vellum pages together. She barely noticed the tinkling of a bell, so intense was her concentration on her task. A shadow and the scent of spice finally took her from her work.

The lanky guard garbed in leather amour leaned over the wooden counter that normally separated her from her customers. His gold-white fur and the black spots visible on his short mane clearly marked him as one of the cheetah clan. "Come out and play today," he purred seductively.

"No, my friend," she said firmly. "Lord Frin insists that this volume be rebound in 5 suns. Would you have me lose a hefty commission?"

Tril'i stroked the counter with his claws. "I would have you do what you do best, bounty hunter, and not be confined to a shop," he replied sharply.

Lynxana wondered what he had seen. Perhaps, the youth had not seen her at all. Her blue o'ba'ti was slit to the thigh, and had not hampered her swift movement. She looked down upon the cheetah she had pinned to the wooden floors. Her auburn mane had become unbound from the single ribbon that had held it back from her face. She pressed the silver dagger under Tril'i's neck. "I am doing what I do best: being of assistance to King Lir."

"You do it very well," Tril'i commented, gingerly placing his hand against her knee.

Lynxana smiled, and leaned back on the cheetah's long form. "Come back after your watch, when evening falls. We will go to the Purple Mountain tavern. I hear they have some fine fare on the menu this day." She rose to her feet. "Now leave, before you soil my reputation."

Tril'i raised a finger to protest, but one stern look from Lynxana silenced the guard.

He stood, placed his palms together, bowed, then departed.

"You have upset the peace of my day, youngling," the Felinaria said softly. "You take me to my past."

A slight wind rattled the panes; the bright sunlight dimmed. "Rain will come with the darkness," she remarked, happy for the distraction.

She returned to her work, and finished the first set of signatures unaware of the passing hours. Night finally came, but Tril'i did not. She took a poker, stirred the coals in the fireplace, and added some wood until a nice blaze commenced to fight back the autumn damp. She sat upon a chair near the hearth, and relaxed. The tongues of flame swayed hypnotically before her. She unexpectedly found herself missing Tril'i, and immediately tried to think of something else.

Another face formed in her mind. "Lynx-o", she whispered as her thoughts drifted back to her troubled past.

*****

Long ago lightning had made a great hole in the towering tree. Lynxana dashed into the opening, glad to be out of the rain. She listened to the beats of the wind and water against the huge trunk, and wished for light, warmth and a decent meal. She brushed back a tear knowing that her desires would not be granted, for she had been released from her clan. "Curse my brother and my father," she growled.

She was first-born of the clan chief. At the death of her father, she should have stepped into his place as leader, but those of her tribe had always favored males in positions of power. By her father's will and the people's judgement, her brother had assumed the place meant for her.

The tall lynx rubbed the hilt of her long sword. She had challenged her brother to combat; to her dismay she had lost. She had refused to serve him and the clan. Their compassion still burned her. The clan had set her free, not marking her as an a'tri'i, outcast. She could seek another tribe in which to dwell, but she wondered who would take her knowing her history. Lynxana made a fist. "I will live on my own!" she declared. "My skills will speak for me."

"Let us test them!" a masculine voice hidden by the shadows cried out.

The warrior vacated the tree, and drew her sword.

"Show yourself, bandit!" she snarled.

"Stealth will be the first lesson that you learn, cub," the male answered, "or you will be sent to tend hearth and home."

Lynxana attacked where she believed the voice originated, but met only air.

"The second lesson is this: control your anger to insure victory."

She did not want to admit it, but she knew the speaker was right on this point, for her father had drilled it into her. "But he betrayed me!" she shouted, the pain of all her losses still filling her heart.

"The third lesson is to let go of the past," the male replied softly. "Live in the moment; abandon regret."

Lynxana sheathed her sword, and raised her hands, signaling her refusal to fight. No bandit would take the time to instruct her.

The wet leaves made little sound as her tormentor approached holding a small glow ball in his hand. He was a lynx like she, but shorter, older and bearing the tawny coloring of those tribes to the east. His dark eyes stripes accentuated the paleness of his yellow eyes. He bowed in greeting. "I am Lynx-o. Your future is with the Lord of Thundera."

*****

A branch crackling in the flames disrupted her dreaming. "My future is still with the King," Lynxana whispered, "but we are to have another change of rule." She moved toward the windows that looked upon the cobblestone streets. Would the son of Claudus require her service as the others had, or would she become lost like Myr'an'dra.

She stroked the wooden sill. I would never have sold myself to the mountain tigers as she has done, the lynx thought firmly. Better to be a guard or a book binder than to betray the King. She tapped the sill thoughtfully. Word had come to her that the pantheress had disappeared. Ra'ri'trin and his kind never keep their word; honor is foreign to them, she decided. Myr'an'dra must be dead.

An icy breeze crept beneath the door. If the new king kept her in service as a jan'nirri would she remain unpaired? Lynx-o had worked with Chand'ra, a snow leopard with the skills of a dancer. But she, Lynxana, had no one, and that was at the choosing of King Claudus, the ruler before Lir. Enemies had expected jan'nirri to work in pairs. As a single agent, she had fooled many into complacency, for a bounty hunter, no matter how skilled, never possessed the reputation of a shadow warrior. Her lack of a clan only strengthened her cover.

With a howl, the rain finally arrived, but it was the banging on the door that made her leap back from the window. She instinctively drew the dagger hidden behind the shop counter.

"Twelve seas of Thundera! It's me. Tril'i. Open the door!"

Lynxana laughed. "You are worse than an old one. What will a little water do?"

Tril'i stamped his feet as she let him into her dwelling.

"You are late," she chided.

The cheetah pulled a letter from a pouch slung over his shoulder. "From the King," he said abruptly.

Lynxana read the royal note as Tril'i respectfully turned away. "Did you know about tonight's disruption?" she asked him.

"The attack came from the east. You know I work in the west patrol, so I have heard little. An unseen evil struck Ra'ri'trin, the mountain tiger lord, and left him dumb and blind. That is all I know." The guard faced her, then suddenly pointed to the letter, bewilderment changing to enlightenment. "Is that how you know of this?"

She raised her eyebrows surprised that he would ask such a question of her, for he must have known that he would not receive an answer. The cheetah took two steps back. He raised his hands, and said, "Forget my intrusion."

"Done," she said, folding the letter, and tossing it into the fire. King Lir had asked her to trail the fat merchant Ba'sir if he appeared anywhere in the city. He must believe that the cryptic stranger had some role in Ra'ri'trin's unfortunate accident. The mystery and the challenge of her work always aroused her. She sidled up to the guard, and locked her arm with his. "Dinner?"

"The fire," he said weakly.

"True. We will wait until only coals remain."

"That will take some time."

"The tavern will not close."

Lynxana ran her finger along the strong line of the cheetah's jaw, then traced the black spots that decorated his neck. "I'd like to see these dance," she purred.

Tril'i pulled her close, his lips brushing hers delicately. Lynxana grabbed his short mane, and without resistance pulled him down to the rug set before the hearth. Her new assignment could keep for a little while.