'No, what you said and what I meant are quite different,' Lord Lowen said with a tinge of amusement in his deep voice. Gord was confused but elected not to press the matter. They walked in silence for a couple of minutes, and then the steward added, 'Now we come to the place of entry, prince. Are you ready to enter?'
'Yes….' Gord let that trail off, for Lowen had sounded most formal and had spoken those last words loudly. Even as he had said 'yes,' Gord's eyes had fallen upon two lines of guards, stiffly arrayed so as to form a double line leading into the mansion that was the Catlord's palace. 'But I think we must find another door, steward,' the young adventurer said under his breath. 'Some ceremony is in progress here, and it would not be meet to interrupt.'
'Have no concern, prince,' Lord Lowen said as softly in reply. 'We will not be intruding — quite the contrary.' As the two strode on, the nine armored warriors on either hand saluted. Lowen's grip would not allow anything but for Gord to proceed on into the hall before them.
Great thumps suddenly sounded. 'Prince Gord Carl Quapardus now enters this hall! Who will display flattened ears?' The bellowing came from Raaph, major domo of the palace.
Lowen had tugged him to a halt, so Gord had a moment to scan the scene. During the time they had been out walking, a transformation had been effected in the place. A semicircular dais had been erected in the leftmost portion of the big room. It supported nine groups of tall chairs. Each group had two on the higher level of the stand and four below on the lower tier. All six seats of each group were occupied by grandly arrayed men and gorgeously dressed women. To either side of the uppermost chairs stood pages, while below the lower four seats of each group stood a fully armored knight.
Gord's gaze settled upon each of the uppermost figures in turn. They were the noble heads of the Nine Houses, with their chief henchmen occupying the lower chairs. Here was the Scion of Smilodons in cloth of gold, bedecked with a necklace of nine huge golden beryls. Closest to his vantage point was House Lynx, its prince adorned in gray spidersilk vestments, a glitter of diamonds serving as his badge of nobility.
To Gord's right hand was another large dais. Thereupon he noticed the emblems and ensigns of those creatures who were associated with catkind — sea lions, true sphinxes, dragonnes, tiger sharks. Those beneath these blazons appeared to be men and women, but the young adventurer knew that such appearance was but one of the forms possible for them. The chief one of the leopard seals nodded almost imperceptibly as Gord's eyes briefly met hers. Then another voice brought his eyes elsewhere.
'None questions the coming.' Rexfelis said those words in a normal tone, but they seemed to I'll the whole of the huge hall.
'There is no challenge!' agreed the major domo.
The Lord of Cats arose from the throne he had been stiffly sitting upon. As he did so, the other creatures in the chamber followed suit, rising to their feet as their sovereign had done. Then the realization struck Gord: Rexfelis had stood to greet… him!
'Go forward to our lord, prince.' Lowen hissed. 'I will follow just behind.' Gord began to walk slowly ahead. He felt very uncomfortable, as though the hundreds of eyes in the chamber were burning holes in him. Yet proceed he did, and none hindered the forty-nine paces he took as he advanced to stand before the Catlord.
'You have walked around the Place of All Cats?' Gord looked at Rexfelis, consciously noting for the first time that he wore a gold diadem set with a variety of gems. Never before had the young man seen him wear a crown of any sort. Without delay and with no need of prompting, Gord answered truthfully and simply. 'I have, lord.'
'I then announce to all the Peers of this Realm that I have considered and found you most worthy of all. I name you Heir to the Domain of Catkind. Kneel, Prince Quapardus.'
Gord did as he was told. Then Rexfelis took the diadem from his own head and placed it upon Gord's brow. 'Arise, Crown Prince Gord, and sit beside me.'
After the Lord of Cats said those words, another great thumping arose. 'All hail Crown Prince Gord!' commanded the stentorian voice of the major domo. The assembled folk complied immediately and gave nine great shouts. In such a din, who could say if the cheers were full of happiness and respect, or discontent and envy? It made no difference, for the deed was accomplished.
'I am at a loss. Lord Rexfelis,' Gord said quietly as the Master Cat took him to a newly brought second throne. They both sat, and the others in attendance took their seats again too. 'It is an honor and station I don't think I deserve — in fact, am most uncomfortable with. Besides, at a time such as this, what use is this position and the ceremony associated with it?'
'Blunt, too blunt,' Rexfelis muttered back. Think you that being a monarch is an insignificant task? In time you will get used to it… if we have such time granted. As to that, and your last comment, prince, the one who champions Balance must be of both proper station and have the support of all. You being of catkind, it is required that all the nobles of the dominion recognize you as such…. Enough of this now! We are being rude to our peers. Speak to them!'
Apparently he had no choice. Lately Gord had found that circumstance to be more and more frequent. Wondering if he was simply growing more perceptive of what had always existed, or if fate was intervening, Gord stood to do as Rexfelis had commanded. Naturally, all the assemblage then rose once again, even the Catlord. Disconcerted yet more, the young man managed to utter a few words, gracefully accept the accolades then given him by the princes of the other eight of the Nine Houses, those from the allied ones, and so forth. After an interminable time, Rexfelis gestured for all others to be seated and spoke a lengthy speech that ended in an invitation to the royal feast.
More thoughts were racing through his mind than he could cope with, more emotions were bathing his psyche than Gord had ever experienced. The sudden rush of information, of knowledge, and of purpose was too much. Where should he be? What should be done? How to accomplish what had to be done? Cold fear was deep within him: What if this all was an enormous lie? A dream? Or, worst of all, what if everything was true — but he proved unequal to the task? Also, he had to wonder why all this ritual and pomp was necessary now. There was so much more to learn, so many more important things to be done: What use was this revel?
The rest of the day was a blur for him. Lady Tirrip was there, but she was distant and formal instead of the warm, loving woman-cat she had once been with him. Equally stiff and reserved were all the others of catkind he had known before, whether as friend and companion or as rival. They were respectful, but distant and… afraid?
It occurred to Gord then that he was no longer like any of them at all, even Rexfelis. The infusion of power by the Lords of Balance, the words of that which called itself All and Nothing, his own commitment — all had combined to make him singular. There was no way he could relate to any of the others here. He was indeed a champion, and that set him apart. There was nothing to be done about it. Those who had identified, if not selected, him as the one to contest against the Ultimate Evil had set in motion a series of events that neither they nor he could reverse. The facts of his parentage and infancy, Gord's past life, the honors of the day: Each and every aspect of what had gone before and was now transpiring had no meaning to him except as they bore upon the thing to come.
At the stroke of midnight, Gord turned to the Catlord. Tour will in this matter has been accomplished, Lord Rexfelis. I thank you. I sense a new energy emanating from those folk here and flowing to me. For that too am I thankful. But I can bear this charade no longer. Now it is time for me to leave and seek the path which will bring me to the foe I am meant to confront. May I have your leave?'
'I…' Rexfelis looked with his own strange eyes into the deep, gray pools of his heir. There was such pain and purposeful resolve there that the Lord of Cats was unable to say more for a moment. Then he looked away. In his heart he felt deep sorrow for this one, one of his own, to whom had passed such a terrible burden. Rexfelis was sad that he himself had labored long and with exacting care to bestow that weight. That Rexfelis had not apportioned the fate, only recognized it, made little difference in the Catlord's feelings. 'I grant it, of course, prince. You and I must meet again before you begin, though, for there is news of importance just arrived today.'
'Why haven't you told me before now?'
The naming of you as my heir had to be accomplished, and done in the manner I myself set forth centuries ago.'
Of course, the young man thought. Rexfelis had been master of all felines since there had been such a deity. Idly, Gord wondered why the Catlord would now find it desirable to abdicate. It was but a fleeting thought, one of little consequence under the circumstances. If Tharizdun triumphed, then there would be no Catlord, no heir. If Gord prevailed, it seemed quite likely to him that he would become something other than the new Lord of Cats. Odd…. 'Very well. Let us go someplace where there is privacy.'
