Clandestine circle

The owl bobbed worriedly up and down. “Now, don’t you do something stupid like telling him who you really are. Even if he isn’t anything more than a loyal officer in Lord Bight’s court, he could still betray you, even unintentionally, to others.”

“I know. I’ll be on my guard.”

Her voice was so sad, the owl rubbed her face against Linsha’s cheek. “Do you love him?”

“I don’t know.” Her answer was a sigh. “Mother used to say, “Since love concerns the heart, how can the head understand it?” I wish I could talk to her now.”

“Your mother would say, Be careful.”

Linsha laughed softly. “Yes, Mom.”

For once the owl had no further comment. They sat together in companionable silence for a while until Linsha asked, “Have you seen Calzon or Elenor? I worry about them.”

“Calzon is still alive and well and selling his tarts in the market, although he has also been spending some time in the refugee camp. There are many sick there, and the rats are plentiful. I do not know about Elenor. I flew by her house yesterday, but I saw no sign of her. I hope she is well.”

Linsha stretched out in the hay. Drowsiness stole over her, and she felt her eyelids droop. “So do I,” she replied slowly. Then she added, “Why do you suppose the Circle leaders hate Hogan Bight so much?”

“He is an enigma to them. They cannot predict what he will do and they do not know where he gets his power. That frightens them.”

“He doesn’t frighten me.” She chuckled sleepily and snuggled deeper into the hay. “I think the Circle has seriously underestimated his ability to survive and adapt. He’s not going to be so easy to remove.”

The owl looked at her curiously. What a complicated weave this woman was! She declared her attraction to one man, and yet the nuances in her voice and the subtleties of her body language revealed a deep respect and devotion to another man. Varia hooted softly. Life had certainly been less complicated when Linsha was a mere alley-basher. Not as interesting, but definitely simpler.

“Where is your cat?” Linsha asked, her voice thick with approaching sleep.

“She’s over there. Your friend brought her so much fish, she has been too stuffed to hunt for me.” The owl flapped over to the other side of the hayloft and came back urging along the tortoise-shell ship’s cat. The graceful feline saw Linsha, meowed, and dropped beside her in the hay. She didn’t seem at all frightened of Varia.

Linsha stroked the cat’s soft side and rubbed her ears. The cat purred softly. Linsha listened to the gentle sound and to the other contented noises that filled the barn with tranquility: the movement of tired horses eating their grain, the rustle of mice in the hay, the faint flutter of the bats in the cupola, the sighing of the wind in the eaves. One by one she drew her mind away from each sound until there was nothing left in her ears but the thud of her own heartbeat. Before long that, too, faded, and there was only the silence of sleep.

Varia found a place to perch on a roof rafter just above Linsha’s nest in the hay. She tucked one foot up into her feathers and settled down to wait in contemplative peace. Suddenly her eyes opened wide and the feathers on her head flared up. She heard movement in the stable below. It sounded like a male human, perhaps a groom checking on the horses one last time. A heavy step passed through the aisle and came to a stop by the ladder to the hayloft. Varia tensed, listening. Nothing happened. The man didn’t walk away, but he didn’t climb the ladder either. All she heard were the night noises of the barn.

Something moved by the ladder. A small dark shape leaped gracefully into the loft and padded across the floor. Varia stared down at it. It was another cat, a big orange torn, and one she had never seen in the bam before. The owl hunched over, ready to dive on the cat if he offered trouble.

The big torn sensed the owl’s presence. He sat down in the hay near Linsha and looked up into Varia’s round yellow gaze with his own golden eyes.

Varia straightened abruptly. Understanding, fresh and titillating, filled her mind. She started to hoot with laughter and nearly fell off her rafter. Remembering the sleeping woman below, she toned her amusement down to throaty warbles and watched in good humor as the orange cat sniffed Linsha’s face then lay down close to her side, across from the other cat. The calico lifted her head once, meowed, and went back to sleep.

The animals in the barn settled down for the night.

By the time dawn filtered through the barn’s windows, the orange cat was gone. Varia did not mention him, for she loved a good secret, and the calico cat remained inscrutable.

The sound of banging lids on feed bins and the neighs of hungry horses brought Linsha wide awake and made her aware of her own hunger. She used her fingers to comb the hay and dust out of her hair, brushed off her dirty uniform, and hurried down the ladder in search of breakfast.