Endeavors of Will by Sharon Lee

Author:Sharon Lee
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fantasy, cats, liad, sharon lee, liaden, pinbeam
Publisher: Pinbeam Books

First published in Star Triad, February 1991

A Matter of Ceremony

HANK JENKINS STOOD like a mannequin in his stiff black suit in the center of the circular Room of High Ceremonies, his cat draped, purring, around his neck. A yellow-robed official, his jeweled and leathered cat tall upon his shoulder, detached himself from the surrounding crowd and stepped close to flank, hissing, "You could have had the decency to let the dressers attend him."

Hank’s light blue eyes were innocent. "Well, I told that young fella they sent around that Sundance don’t usually take to strangers; but he said he knew all ’bout cats. Pushy kinda fella, y’know? Well, I let ’im try it, ’course, since he was so set... Doc said his hands’ll be fine, couple weeks." He reached over this shoulder, rubbed the orange-and-white’s ears. The purr intensified and the official’s cat twitched his ears forward. "I combed him, see, and got all the burrs and twigs out of his coat. He does like to bang around in the woods, though--"

Yellow Robe straightened abruptly, horror in his face.

"In the woods!" He shuddered and walked quickly away, leaving Hank and Sundance in undisputed possession of the floor. The shoulder-carried cat looked back once.

Hank sighed and shook his head. Nervous fella; lot of pressure in a Government job. His hand dropped from the cat’s ears to join the other in the job of mangling his good black hat. Like a kid caught in the act, he muttered, ’cept he hadn’t done anything wrong. Nothing at all, he repeated to himself firmly; but his hands twisted the rim of his hat into an impossible pretzel while Sundance purred into his ear like a happy dynamo.

Sure were a lot of people in the place. Hank wondered what the hold-up was. There was a long, low rubbed steel table to his right. The Judge would sit there, maybe. That was it, they were waiting for the Judge. That made sense. Hank reached up toward Sundance again, but pulled his hand back in mid-motion as the subdued muttering in the room abruptly stopped and three tall, robed figures, a cat riding tall on each right shoulder, filed in from his left, moved stately across his field of vision and seated themselves together at the table.

Quiet enough to hear a spider weaving at fifty yards. Hank pivoted slowly to face the table, suddenly calm. Now here were people who knew what was what. They’d understand that he hadn’t done anything wrong. He felt Sundance shift position smoothly and arrange himself, sitting high in imitation of the Judges’ decked-out kitties, on Hank’s right shoulder. The man squared his shoulders as best he might and they waited for the Judges to notice them.

The Judges--an old man, to Hank’s far left; a younger man in the middle; and a woman of indeterminate age at the far right--sat with their faces forward, eyes closed. They looked like wax-work dolls, in their bright blue and orange and violet robes, with their cats so still, just like them.

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