Tad Williams - Tailchaser' s Song

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For I will consider my cat ...
For at the first glance of the glory of God
in the East he worships in his way. For this is done by wreathing his body seven
times around with elegant quickness . . . For having done duty and received blessing
he begins to consider himself. For this he performs in ten degrees. For first he looks upon his
fore-paws to see
if they are clean.
For secondly he kicks up behind to clear away there. For thirdly he works it upon the stretch with
the fore-paws extended For fourthly he sharpens his paws by wood. For fifthly he washes himself.
For sixthly he rolls upon wash. For seventhly he fleas himself, that he may
not be interrupted on the beat. For eighthly he rubs himself against a post. For ninthly he looks
up for his instructions. For tenthiy he goes in quest of food . . . For when his day's work is
done his business
more properly begins. For he keeps the Lord's watch in the night
against the adversary. For he counteracts the powers of darkness by
his electrical skin and glaring eyes. For he counteracts the Devil, who is death,
by brisking about the life. For in his morning orisons he loves the sun
and the sun loves him. For he is of the tribe of Tiger. For the Cherub Cat is a term of the Angel
Tiger. . . For there is nothing sweeter than his peace
when at rest.
For there is nothing brisker than his life
when in motion . . . For God has blessed him in the variety of
his movements. . .
For he can tread to all the measures upon the music. . .
—Christopher Smart
[INTRODUCTION
In the Hour before time began, Meerclar Allmother came out of the darkness to the cold earth. She
was black, and as furry as all the world come together to be fur. Meerclar banished the eternal
night, and brought forth the Two.
Harar Goldeneye had eyes as hot and bright as the sun at the Hour of Smaller Shadows; he was the
color of daytime, and courage, and dancing.
Fela Skydancer, his mate, was beautiful, like freedom, and clouds, and the song of travelers
returned.
Goldeneye and Skydancer bore many children and raised them in the forest that covered the world at
the beginnings of the Elder Days. Climbfast, Wolf-friend, Treesinger, and Brightnail, their young,
were nrong of tooth, sharp of eye, light of foot and straight and brave to their tail-ends.
But most strange and beautiful of all the countless children of Harar and Fela were the three
Firstborn.
The eldest of the Firstborn was Viror Whitewind; he was the color of sunlight on snow, and of
swiftness. . . .
The middle child was Grizraz Hearteater, as gray o shadows and full of strangeness. . . .
Third-born was Tangaloor Firefoot. He was as uack as Meerclar Allmother, but his paws were red iKc
flame. He walked alone, and sang to himself.
There was rivalry among the Firstborn brothers. Whitewind was as fast and strong as a cat could
xix
XX
iNTROduCTJON
dream of being—none could overmatch him at jumping and running. Firefoot was as clever as time; he
solved all puzzles and riddles, and made songs that the Folk sang for generations.
Hearteater could not match his brothers' exploits. He grew jealous, and began to plot the downfall
of Whitewind and the humiliation of the Folk.
So it came to pass that Hearteater raised up a great beast against the Folk. Ptomalkum was its
name, and it was the last spawn of the demon-hound Venris, whom Meerclar had destroyed in the Days
of Fire. Ptomalkum, raised and nurtured with Hearteater's hatred, slew many Folk before it was
itself slain by the gallant Whitewind. But Viror Whitewind received such wounds that he soon
wasted and died. Seeing the downfall of his schemes, Hearteater was afraid, and crept down a hole
and disappeared into the secretive earth.
There was great lamentation in the Court of Harar at the death of Whitewind, the best-beloved.
Firefoot his brother fled the Court in heartache, renouncing his claim to the Mantle of Kingship,
and wandered the world.
Fela Skydancer, Whitewind's mother, was ever after silent, all her long life.
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But Harar Goldeneye was so full of rage that he wept, and swore great oaths. He went howling into
the wilderness, destroying all before him in his search for the traitorous Hearteater. Finally,
unable to bear such great pain, he fled to the bosom of the Allmother in the sky. There he still
lives, chasing the bright mouse of the sun across the heavens. Often he looks down to earth below,
hoping to see Viror running once more beneath the trees of the World-Forest.
Countless seasons turned and the world grew older before Firefoot again met his treacherous
brother Hearteater.
In the days of Prince Cleanwhisker, in the reign of Queen Morningstripe, Lord Tangaloor came to
the
llMTRoduCTION
xxi
assistance of the Ruhue, the owl-folk. A mysterious creature had been pillaging their nests, and
had killed all the Ruhu hunters who had come against it.
Firefoot laid a trap, clawing away at a mighty tree until it was near cut through, then lay in
wait for the marauder.
When the creature came that night, and Firefoot felled the tree, he was astonished to discover
that beneath it he had trapped Grizraz Hearteater.
Hearteater begged Firefoot to free him, promising that he would share the ancient lore that he had
discovered beneath the ground. Lord Tangaloor only laughed.
When the sun came up, Hearteater began to scream. He writhed and screeched so that Firefoot,
although fearing a trick, liberated his suffering brother from beneath the pinioning tree.
Hearteater had been so long beneath the earth that the sun was blinding him. He clawed and rubbed
at his steaming eyes, howling so piteously that Firefoot looked about for a way to protect him
from the burning of the day-star. But when he turned away, the blinded Hearteater dug himself a
tunnel, more swiftly than any badger or mole. By the time the startled Firefoot bounded over,
Hearteater had disappeared back into the belly of the world.
It is told that he still lives there, hidden from the eyes of the Folk; that he works foul deeds
underground, and aches to return to the World Above. . ..
1
CHAPTER
. . . make no mistake We are not shy We're very wide awake, The moon and I!
—W. S. Gilbert
The Hour of Unfolding Dark had begun, and the rooftop where Tailchaser lay was smothered in
shadow.
He was deep in a dream of leaping and flying when he felt an unusual tingling in his whiskers.
Fritti Tailchaser, hunterchild of the Folk, came suddenly awake and sniffed the air. Ears pricked
and whiskers flared straight, he sifted the evening breeze. Nothing unusual. Then what had
awakened him? Pondering, he splayed his claws and began a spine-limbering stretch that finally
ended at the tip of his reddish tail.
By the time he had finished grooming, the sense of danger was gone. Perhaps it had been a night
bird passing overhead ... or a dog in the field beneath . . . perhaps ,..
Perhaps I am becoming a kitten again, Fritti thought to himself, who bolts in fright from falling
leaves.
The wind ruffled his newly groomed fur. Piqued, he leaped down from the roof into the tall grasses
below. First he must attend to hunger. Later it would be time to go to the Meeting Wall.
Unfolding Dark was waning, and Tailchaser's belly was still empty. His luck had not been dancing.
5
4 Tftd WiUiAMs
He had held motionless, patient watch at the entrance to a gopher hole. When an eternity of near-
silent breathing had passed, and the inhabitant of the burrow had still not presented himself,
Tailchaser had given up in frustration. After pawing in annoyance at the hole mouth he had gone in
search of other game.
Luck had been completely absent. Even a moth had eluded his pouncing attack, to fly spiraling up
into darkness.
If I can't catch something soon, he worried, / shall have to go back and eat from the bowl that
the Big Ones put out for me. Harar! What kind of hunter am I?
A faint wisp of scent brought Tailchaser to an abrupt halt. Absolutely motionless, all senses
straining, he crouched and sniffed. It was a Squeaker— downwind, and very close.
He moved as delicately as a shadow, carefully picking his way through the undergrowth, then froze
again. There!
A jump and a half before him sat the mre'az he had scented. It squatted, unaware of Tailchaser,
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and pushed seeds into its cheek—nose twitching nervously, eyes rapidly blinking.
Fritti lowered himself to the ground, his upraised tail lashing back and forth behind him.
Hunkered, he drew himself up on his hind legs and poised for the strike—unmoving, muscles tensed.
He leaped.
He had misjudged the distance. As he landed short, paws flailing, the Squeaker had just enough
time to give a chirp of terror and then drop—-floop!—into its hole.
Standing over the escape route, Fritti bit his own foot with embarrassment.
As Tailchaser licked the last scraps from the bowl, Thinbone bounded onto the porch. Thinbone was
a wild tabb\. gra\ -and-yellow patchwork, who lived in a
TAILCHASER'S SONG 5
culvert across the field. He was a little older than Fritti, and made much of it.
"Nre'fa-o, Tailchaser." Thinbone leaned over and sharpened his claws lazily on a wooden pillar.
"Looks like you're being fed well tonight. Tell me, do the Big Ones make you do tricks for your
supper? I've often wondered how it worked, you understand." Fritti pretended to ignore him, and
began cleaning his whiskers.
"I notice," Thinbone continued, "that the Growlers seem to have some sort of arrangement: they
carry things for the Big Ones, and leap around a great deal, and bark all night for their dinner.
Is that what you do?" Thinbone stretched nonchalantly. "I'm just curious, you understand. Some
night—oh, I admit it's not likely—some night I might be unable to catch dinner, and it would be
nice to have something to fall back on. Is barking very difficult?"
"Be quiet, Thinbone." Fritti snarled, then gave a sneeze of laughter and leaped on his friend.
They wrestled for a moment, then broke apart, batting at each other with their paws. Finally,
tired out, they sat for a moment reordering their fur.
When they had rested, Thinbone sprang away from the porch and bounded into the darkness. Fritti
put one last patch along his flank straight, then followed him.
The Hour of Deepest Quiet was just starting, and Meerclar's Eye was high in the sky above, remote
and unblinking.
The wind shivered the leaves on the trees as Tailchaser and Thinbone made their way across fields
and over fences—pausing to listen to night sounds, then galloping across wet, glimmering lawns. As
they came under the eaves of the Old Woods that flanked the dwellings of the Big Ones, they could
smell the fresh scents of others of their kind.
Over the top of the rise and past a stand of massive oak trees lay the entrance to the canyon.
Tail-
6 TAd WittiAMs
chaser thought happily to himself of the songs and stories that would be shared by the crumbling
Meeting Wall. He thought also of Hushpad, whose slim gray form and arching, slender tail had been
on his mind almost constantly of late. It was fine to be alive and of the Folk on Meeting Night.
Meerclar's Eye cast a mother-of-pearl light on the clearing. Twenty-five or thirty cats were
assembled at the base of the Wall—rubbing against each other in greeting, sniffing the nose of a
new acquaintance. There was much mock fighting among the younger Folk.
Tailchaser and Thinbone were greeted by a gang of young hunters who stood casually about on the
edge of the throng.
"Great you're here!" cried Fleetpaw, a young fellow with thick black-and-white fur. "We're just
about to have a game of Hop-in-the-Air—until the elders arrive, that is."
Thinbone jogged over to join, but Fritti lowered his head politely and moved toward the crowd to
look for Hushpad. He could not locate her scent as he slid through the milling group of cats.
A pair of young felas, barely out of kittenhood, wrinkled their noses at him flirtatiously, then
ran away, sneezing merriment. Ignoring them, he bowed his head respectfully as he passed
Stretchslow. The older male, who lay majestically prone at the base of the Wall, dignified him
with a lazy blink of his huge green eyes and a desultory ear-wiggle.
Still no Hushpad, thought Fritti. Where can she be? Nobody missed a Meeting Night if he could help
it. Meetings were only on those nights when the Eye was completely open and at its brightest.
Perhaps she will come later, he thought. Or perhaps even now she was walking with Jumptall or Leaf-
rustle—extending her tail languidly for them to admire. . . .
The thought made him angry. He turned and
TAILCHASER'S SONG 7
cuffed a juvenile torn who had been prancing and capering at his heels. It was young Pouncequick,
who gave him such a look of dismay that Fritti immediately felt sorry he had done it—the
rambunctious kitten was often a nuisance, but well-meaning.
"I'm sorry, Pouncequick," he said, "I didn't know it was you. I thought it was old Stretchslow,
and I was going to teach him a lesson."
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"Really?" gasped the young one. "You would have done that to him?" Fritti regretted his joke.
Stretchslow would not find it very funny.
"Well, anyway," he said, "it was a mistake, and I apologize."
Pouncequick was charmed at being treated as an adult. "I certainly will accept your apology,
Tailchaser." he said gravely. "It was an understandable mistake."
Fritti snorted. Giving the young cat a playful bite on the flank, he continued on his way.
Halfway through Deepest Quiet the Meeting was well under way, and Hushpad had still not made an
appearance. While one of the Elders regaled the assembled multitude—now swollen to almost sixty—
Tailchaser sought Thinbone, who was sitting with Fleetpaw and the others. The Elder was describing
a large and potentially dangerous Growler who was running wild in the area, and Thinbone and the
other hunters were listening intently as Fritti approached.
"Thinbone!" he hissed. "Will you come over and talk to me for a moment?" Thinbone yawned and
stretched before ambling over to Fritti's tree-root perch.
"What is it, then?" he inquired amiably. "Is it time for my barking lessons?"
"Please, Thinbone, no games. I can't find Hushpad anywhere. Do you know where she is?"
Thinbone considered Tailchaser as the Elder
8 TAd Willi
droned on. "So," he said. "I thought you seemed a little preoccupied. All this over a fela?"
"We were doing the Dance of Acceptance last night!" said Fritti, stung. "We didn't have a chance
to finish before the sun came up. We were going to finish tonight. I know she was going to accept
me! What could have made her miss the Meeting?"
Thinbone lowered his ears in mock terror. "An interrupted Dance of Acceptance! Skydancer's
Whiskers! I think I see your fur falling out already! And your tail is going limp!"
Fritti shook his head impatiently. "I know you think it's funny, Thinbone, and with your string of
tail-waving females you don't care about a real Joining. But I do, and I'm worried about Hushpad.
Please help me."
Thinbone looked at him for a moment, blinking his eyes and scratching behind his right ear.
"All right, Tailchaser," he said, simply. "What can I do?"
"Well, I suppose there's not much we can do tonight, but if I can't find her tomorrow could you
perhaps come out and have a look around with me?"
"I suppose so," replied Thinbone, "but I think that a little patience will probably—ouch!"
Fleetpaw had come up from below and butted his flat head against Thinbone's haunches.
"Come now!" Fleetpaw cried. "What is all this deep discussion? Bristlejaw's going to tell a story,
and here you sit like two fat eunuchs!"
Tailchaser and Thinbone bounced down after their friend. Felas were felas, but a story was nothing
to sniff at!
The Folk squeezed closer around the Meeting Wall—an ocean of waving tails. Slowly, and with
immense dignitv, Bnstlejaw mounted a crumbled section of the wall At the highest point he paused,
and waited
seen some eleven or twelve summers,
TAILCHASER'S SONG 9
Bristlejaw was certainly no longer a young cat, but iron control was in all his movements. His
tortoise-shell fur, once brilliant with patches of rust and black, had dulled somewhat with age,
and the stiff fur jutting from around his muzzle had gone gray-white. His eyes were bright and
clear, though, and could bring a sporting kitten to a halt from three jumps away.
Bristlejaw was an Oel-cir'va: a Master Old-singer, one of the keepers of the Lore of the Folk. All
the history of the Folk was in their songs—passed on in the Higher Singing of the Elder Days from
one generation to another as a sacred trust. Bristlejaw was the only Old-singer within some
distance of the Meeting Wall, and his stories were as important to his Folk as water, or the
freedom to run and jump as they pleased.
From his position atop the Wall he surveyed the cats below for a long time. The expectant murmur-
ings quieted to soft purring. Some of the young cats—tremendously excited and unable to sit still—
began frantically grooming themselves. Bristlejaw flicked his tail three times, and there was
silence.
"We thank our Elders, who watch over us." he began. "We praise Meerclar, whose Eye lights our
hunting. We salute our quarry for making the chase sweet."
"Thanks. Praise. Salutations."
"We are the Folk, and tonight we speak in one voice of the deeds of all. We are the Folk."
Caught up in the ancient ritual, the cats swayed gently from side to side. Bristlejaw began his
story.
"In the days of the earth's youth—when some of the First were still seen in these fields—Queen
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Satinear, granddaughter of Fela Skydancer, ruled in the Court of Harar.
"And she was a good queen. Her paw was as just in aid of her Folk as her claw was swift to harm
for her enemies.
10
WilliAMs
"Her son and coregent was Prince Ninebirds. He was a huge cat, mighty in battle, swift to anger,
and swollen in pride for all his youthful years. At his Naming the story had been told of how, as
a kitten, he had slain a branchful of starlings with one blow of his claws. So Ninebirds he was
Named, and the fame of his strength and his deeds stretched far.
"It had been many, many summers since the death of Whitewind, and none living in the Court at this
time had ever seen any of the First. Firefoot had been wandering in the wild for generations, and
many thought him dead, or gone to join his father and grandmother in the sky.
"As stories of Ninebirds' strength and bravery began to run from mouth to ear among the Folk, and
as Ninebirds began to listen to those ignoble ones who always cling to the great Folk, he began to
see in himself the greatness of the Firstborn.
"One day it was told throughout the World-Forest that Ninebirds was no longer content to be Prince
Regent at his mother's side. A Meeting was declared to which all the Folk were to come from far
and wide for feasting, hunting, and games, and at this meeting he would assume the Mantle of
Harar—which Tan-galoor Firefoot had declared sacrosanct but for the Firstborn—and Ninebirds would
declare himself King of Cats.
"And so came the day, and all the Folk gathered at the Court. While all cavorted and danced and
sang, Ninebirds sunned his great body and looked on. Then he stood, and spoke: 'I, Ninebirds, by
right of blood and claw, stand before you today to assume the Mantle of Kingship, which has gone
long unfilled. If no cat has any reason why I should not take upon myself this Ancient Burden . .
.'
"At that moment there was a noise in the crowd, and a very old cat stood up. His fur was shot all
over with grav—especially about his legs and paws—and his muzzle was snow-white.
TAILCHASER'S SONG
11
" 'You assume the Mantle by right of blood and claw, Prince Ninebirds?' questioned the old cat. 'I
do,' answered the great Prince. 'By what right of blood do you claim the Kingship?' queried the
old white-whisker. 'By the blood of Fela Skydancer that runs in me, you toothless old Squeaker-
friend!' rejoined Ninebirds hotly, and rose from where he lay. All the gathered Folk whispered
excitedly as Ninebirds walked to the Vaka'az'-me, the tree-root seat sacred to the Firstborn.
Before all the assembled Folk Ninebirds lifted his long tail and sprayed the Vaka'-az'me with his
hunt-mark. There was more excited whispering, and the old cat tottered forward.
" 'O Prince, who would be King of Cats,' said the ancient one, 'perhaps by blood you have some
claim, but what of claw? Will you fight in single combat for the Mantle?' 'Of course,' said
Ninebirds, laughing, 'and who will oppose me?' The crowd goggled, looking about for some mighty
challenger who would fight with the massive Prince.
" 'I will,' said the old one simply. All the folk hissed in surprise and arched their backs, but
Ninebirds only laughed again. 'Go home, old fellow, and wrestle with beetles,' said he. 'I will
not fight with you.'
" 'The King of Cats can be no coward,' said the old cat. At that Ninebirds cried in anger and
leaped forward, swinging his huge paw at the old gray-muzzle. But with surprising speed the old
one leaped aside and dealt a buffet to the Prince's head that addled his wits for a moment. They
began to fight in earnest, and the multitude could scarcely credit the speed and courage of the
old cat, who opposed such a great and fierce fighter.
"After a long while they closed and wrestled together, and although the Prince bit at his neck,
the old one brought up his hind claws and scratched, and Ninebirds' fur was scattered in the air.
When they broke apart, Ninebirds was full of surprise that this lean elder could do him such harm.
12
TAd WilliAMS
" 'You have lost much of your pelt, O Prince,' said the old one. 'Will you renounce your claim?'
Angered, the Prince charged, and they fell again to fighting. The old one caught the Prince's tail
between his teeth, and when the Prince tried to turn and rend his face, the elder pulled his tail
from his body. The Folk hissed with astonishment and fear as Ninebirds wheeled bloodily around and
faced the old cat once more, who was himself wounded and panting.
" 'You have lost your fur and tail, O Prince. Will you not also yield your claim?1 Maddened by
pain, Ninebirds flung himself on the ancient one, and they wrestled—spitting and swiping, blood
and tears glistening in the sun. At last the challenger wedged Prince Ninebirds' hindquarters
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file:///F|/rah/Tad%20Williams/Williams,%20Tad%20-%20Tailchaser's%20Song.\txtForIwillconsidermycat...ForatthefirstglanceofthegloryofGodintheEastheworshipsinhisway.Forthisisdonebywreathinghisbo\dyseventimesaroundwithelegantquickness...Forhavingdonedutyandrecei\vedblessinghebeginstoconsiderhimself.Fort...

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