Excerpt: The Inadvertant Hero

Jera’s tails flicked uneasily, she stared about her with apprehension, hands crossing her chest in search of assurance she didn’t feel. She really did not like this place, the crowd and noise was unfamiliar to her ears, so used to the quiet peace of the plains. Her friends seemed not to mind, relaxing in their seats and downing their yarron-beer with good cheer. Jera was unused to the noise and crowd, this was her first time off the plains in her life, and already she was wishing she was back in her little bern by the river; wishing she had never thought to come along on this trip; that she’d never wished for excitement and adventure; that Branáed had never consented to allow her on this trip; that—

“Jera!” with a jolt she stood up, only then realizing that her companions had stood and were leaving. The chair tangled in her tails and she stumbled, taking a moment to disentangle herself, cursing as her fur prickled in embarrassment as she righted the chair and fled the room after her companions, eager to get out of the crowd who were even now laughing at her. Well it wasn’t her fault! The Plainscats had three tails for very good reason, and designed their furniture around such. Really! The Outlanders should take a page from their book, it would be wise to follow such admirable traits of construction, it would— dimly she heard some shout of warning just before a foot stood in her way and sent her sprawling to earth.

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Frederic ah Loren, master pickpocket, watched the group as they exited the Drunken Fishercat. Ah, Plainscats. Master traders, most likely. Trade was the chief (if only) reason they ventured out into the Outlands, as they called the main parts of the kingdom. The perfect targets then… no. The perfect target dashed out behind them, a young female and obviously on her first trip. He moved into position, sticking out a footpaw to trip her, an expression of concern already forming on his face for when he helped her up and himself to her coin. A deep voice shouted, and Fred’s fur flattened, he’d been spotted! He only had a second of relief as he saw the sweeping blade and dropped beside his erstwhile victim. No, he was safe, they’d merely been set upon by thugs.

He crouched, moving smoothly up to bring a dagger to bury itself in the belly of the cat who brandished the sword over his head. Kicking the brute, he knocked him to the ground and off his dagger with a long, deep gash in his belly. That would teach them to mess with him! He moved into a fighter’s crouch, looking around, but there was nocat to fight; the plainscats all stood about cleaning various weapons or flexing fists. The six thugs lay in various violent placements. Frederic dismissed them from his thoughts, served them right for being fool enough to “ambush” the plainsmen that way. Fred moved to slip away, he’d already been noticed enough for one try at a purse, but suddenly a mountain of dark fur blocked his way, soon followed by the rest of the party, one of whom helped his mark to her feet. Frederic slipped his cleaned dagger into its sheath and opened his mouth to talk himself out of this mess.

“Thank you.” A heavy hand descended on his shoulder, and Frederic’s knees threatened to give. Not a typical example of his race, he was slender and on the short size, while this plainscat was a giant. “Mo carawyn dia sempr alliand. My sister would skin me if something happened to her.”

“Ah… no problem?” Frederic said, glancing from the mountain to the slim redfurred female. There didn’t seem to be any resemblance at all. “Well… I’ll just be going now…” He slid from under the paw on his shoulder and made a break for it as the mountain was distracted giving orders in his own tongue. The plainscats moved quickly, dragging the enemy to the side of the street before grouping back together around their leader. Frederic glowered at the group in general, flanked by two tall warriors he found had been told to keep him around. “We are sorry, sir.” They said. You must come with us, they said. Its dangerous for you here, they said. With a barked word the group moved out, Frederic’s mind contemplating possible escapes. He had a living to make, and traveling with a group of merchants wasn’t it. What about Senor? Greth fah Torle had an appointment with him tomorrow! And Lyrran! Abner ah Saben was to sell him some priceless artifacts! It wouldn’t do at all to miss them, it would damage his reputations.

No, it wouldn’t do at all. He decided, and started to plot.