Cassandra Part One

Cassandra - Part One

The air of excitement was high in the country of Felinera as the peasants of its capital, Pawprin, gathered before the platform of mighty Castle Jukard. All manner of feline beings were clad in a wide variety of festive colors, adding to the loveliness of the food scents drifting in the air and the overall anticipation of the celebration to come.

Slowly, one by one, the exhilarated toms, females, and kittens fell quiet as a lone female mounted the steps onto the wooden platform. All became still. No kitten giggled or whimpered. Some barely breathed. Not even the birds seemed to disturb the quiet footsteps of the princess on the stage.

The female was none other than Cassandra, princess of Felinera. Daughter of Deuteronomy and the deceased Exotica, Cassandra was her peoples' idol, their image of beauty, grace, and perfection. Though it would be her older half-brother Munkustrap who would inherit the crown of Felinera upon their father's death, Cassandra was the love of her people, the Jellicles. The King's solitary heir stood to the side, but all attention of the crowd was upon the slender female.

Cassandra's short, slim cinnamon-brown fur outlined her shape as close as her skin. The sight of her slim Siamese-like build was a wonder to all of Deuteronomy's bloodline, for never before had an appearance such as hers been seen in his ancestors. "It is a sign from Heaviside," the peasants whispered. She stood proudly centered on the stage, and they could only watch in awe as she bowed gracefully with the fluid movements of water itself. She then turned from the platform edge and bowed to Munkustrap and her father, her ultimate respects to them both. Nothing was higher in the cats' society than family.

Cassandra then moved to Deuteronomy's side and fixed her gaze out over the line of toms who had stepped forward and stood straight, separated from the crowd. This was the beginning day of the games and tournaments that would eventually decide which male would be wed to Cassandra. No less than twenty young toms, lean and muscular, were lined throughout the square center, each and every one of them anticipating the chance. They all gazed up in awe and desire at their princess, but Cassandra kept her stare rigid, seeming not to notice them. To the side of the crowd, sitting in his own sectioned seat, was Deuteronomy's advisor, Skimbleshanks, scanning the identities of the suitors on a scroll before him, scrawling here and there with a quill pen.

Behind her mask of no emotion, Cassandra was cringing visibly. She cared nothing for the males spread out before her. They meant nothing. Princess of one of the grandest countries in existence, all toms born were at her choosing, but not one of them had managed to impress her. But she knew her duty to her country, her people, her family. And she would perform that duty. That did not mean she would enjoy it. "One of you had better be worthy of this prize," she whispered under her breath. Then, at a nod from Skimble, her clear, feminine voice called out to them: "May the power of Heaviside favor upon the best of you, fill your strength, endurance, and courage, so that only the rightful will win."

Yeowling loudly in reply, the toms cheered, lashing their tails, and waved the banners that depicted the symbols of their own families. Most of them were known to her: other rich families from all corners of Felinera. Nobles who hoped to improve their name, wealth, and appearance by wedding a princess. Most of them.

There was one, though, who stood out from the others. At the end of the line, he stood clad in a green jerkin and bandanna, rags compared to the bright-colored cloaks and tunics the others wore. His fur was white with black marks, most notably one large patch over his right eye. She knew his face. A knight of the road, he had no money, no family honor to speak of, and only his experience in battle stood as his sole chance of winning Cassandra's paw. His name was Alonzo. While the others howled out with their show of respect for the princess, he alone stood still, arms crossed over his barrel chest, brown eyes gazing up with a cool exterior at Cassandra. She met his stare, keeping up her mask of regal lack of emotion, though inside she was working to hold her anger at his defiance.

"You," her voice rang out, silencing all, one flexed claw from her slim brown hand extended out towards the homeless tom. "Alonzo. Why are you here? You have not the name or the resources to contend."

Alonzo's eyes never left hers as he answered with the same flat authority, a small smile creeping under his whiskers. "As far as I understand it, Your Highness, any willing tom may compete in these games. Or has Jukard taken up discrimination against those at the lower end of society?"

Cassandra, face muscles hardening at this blatant show of disrespect, but was halted as Munkustrap set a gentle, sturdy black hand on her shoulder. Turning in a start, she met his golden eyes, then followed suit as his strong gaze turned out over the crowd and to the bold tom.

"Take no offense, dear sister," he said with all authority, glaring. "I'm sure he means no discourtesy. He is simply unfamiliar with our customs."

Lifting his chin in a sign of agreement, Alonzo's tail curled as his smile grew wider. "Perhaps that's it, Your Highness. I am a traveler, of course." His gaze shifted to Munkustrap, then back to Cassandra. The female shivered despite the warm sun overhead and turned her face away in pretend distraction. That look she had seen in his eyes...like a tiger stalking his prey.

"Well said, my son," Deuteronomy hailed as he, too, moved up beside his children. Then, to the tense crowd: "Let the games begin!"

Despite the cheering that erupted from the gathered cats before her, Cassandra stood aghast. No other family was regarded higher in Felinera than hers: those of the royal blood. Toms had been known to be executed for showing less rebelliousness against them than Alonzo did now. Yet her brother and father had let him escape unscathed. The competitors filed away in procession, followed by Munkustrap and her father. Cassandra remained on the platform. She could choose to follow, or go back to solitude in her chambers and sit out her last days as a maiden waiting for the news of who her mate was to be. Glancing to the side, she saw Skimbleshanks's orange-striped fur glisten in the sunlight, still bent over his scroll and writing the events that had just played out. Drawing herself up to full height and regalness, the princess stepped majestically from the platform and mounted her white mare that would carry her back to Castle Jukard.

Inside her chambers, Cassandra sat at the edge of her silk-laden bed, her maid servant helping her to fasten up the ties on the back of her evening gown. The maid servant's skilled golden hands worked quickly as Cassandra held a mirror before her in one hand, brushing back and smoothing out her short mane. "Thankyou, Demeter. That will be all."

Bowing quickly, only a quiet "Yes, Milady," passed Demeter's lips as she gathered up her plain cloth skirt and slipped away towards the heavy oak door. Turning back, she curtsied again and asked timidly: "Would Milady like her dinner tonight?"

"No," Cassandra breathed, setting down her mirror. "Not tonight."

"Yes, Milady." And Demeter left her to privacy.

Heaving a sigh, in her solitude able to express any and all emotion without the prying eyes of her people, Cassandra stood and swept gracefully to her large open window. Set in one of the high walls facing out, from her window Cassandra could view all of Pawprin basking in the sun of warm afternoon. The small, simple houses and shops were dwarfed by the castle in the distance, set atop a series of hills for better strategic reasons should there ever be an attack. This was how Cassandra had always viewed the outside world: from afar. In the times when she was unable to sneak out, only with the protection of several armed guards was she able to go into the open, and only then with her father's permission. Sighing, she sat down, letting her head rest against the cold stone that made up all the walls of the castle. Often she had sat at this window, watching the tiny movements her eyes could pick up from the distance that separated Pawprin and Jukard.

When Cassandra was younger she had often wished to go down to the city, wondered what it was like to live beyond these stone walls...to live as she pleased...to be free. It was the blood that ran in Cassandra's veins that dictated her fate: to live inside this castle, to be the mate of a tom she most likely had never seen before, to be brought up prim and proper when her spirit yearned for the freedom to run, to hunt, to dance. But these were not what the people expected of a princess...

Something moved in the dense trees lining the river that ran before the castle, breaking Cassandra's train of wistful thought. Holding the stone edge of the window, she leaned out into the waning sunlight, squinting her eyes for sight of what moved the branches below. A gap in the trees, and she saw Alonzo accompanied by another young tom. Drawing back with a contemptuous scoff, she turned her gaze away disdainfully. What was that renegade up to? Probably off to the forest, she thought. Part of the competitive games was to set out on a night hunt and bring back the biggest game possible. With his lack of weapons and horses, she doubted Alonzo would be the one to bring back anything more than a few birds. Served him well...

The air shimmering with the heat of late afternoon stopped above the leafy canopy line, broken by a shady layer that provided a welcome relief to anyone in the forest. Deep within the woods surrounding Pawprin, Jukard, and the countryland beyond was a large clearing at the top of a low hill. The tall prairie-like grass swayed in the slight breeze, a sea of gently rolling gold under the hot summer sun. At the edge of the clearing was a small outcropping of river-smoothed rocks that had no business being there. Approximately the height of an adult Jellicle, the front of it leaned far out in the direction of the clearing, offering a perfect view for the lone figure who crouched there, his tail lashing tensely behind him.

Alonzo knew no fear or alarm as he peered over the rock's crest into the clearing, watching carefully the five dark figures that milled about in the tall grass. His muscles flexed like liquid steel under his glossy coat of white and black, his claws flexing in an out with anticipation, his face hardset and attentive. He didn't have to turn and identify the scent of the other tom that slid down beside him, watching the same dark shapes in the distance.

"What are they?" the other male said quietly. Alonzo's whiskers flexed at the other's sudden presence, acknowledging his travel companion.

"Carbucketty," Alonzo growled, slightly irritated. "I told you to remain behind..."

Carbucketty, a young rambunctious male with fur of white covered in brown markings, most prominently a slash over his left eye, grinned mischievously. "If you are going to impress the princess, Alonzo, you need to get the biggest game. You can't do that alone." He gazed intently out at the five figures, which were considerably closer now. "Pollicles?"

Alonzo barely nodded as Carbucketty guessed correctly the identity of the five figures below. Carbucketty's grin grew.

"The five of them would make wonderful prizes."

Never once tearing his eyes away, Alonzo sighed. "Yes, they would. Hopefully they are not meeting up with a bigger pack. See, they are moving away. Wait..." The two men watched until the five wild dog-like Pollicles disappeared into the opposite forest end of the clearing. Only then did the two slip down from the rock. "We'll follow them until nightfall," the older outlined. "When they lay down to sleep, we'll attack."

Carbucketty tossed the bound stack of spears over his shoulders, content to carry them as Alonzo set to tracking the Pollicles' path. As far as he was concerned there was no better tracker than the white and black tom. He also knew of Alonzo's quietness and solitary preferences, but nevertheless attempted to make some conversation as they went along at an easy power-walk. Pollicles were relatively slow creatures. Their rhythmic footsteps mixed with the buzzing of insects were the only sounds as they went along into the denser part of the vast forest.

"Are you prepared to win this contest, Alonzo? There are several worthy opponents against you," Carbucketty began quietly.

The white and black male stared ahead and to their right for a moment before answering, his voice deep and reluctant to speak. "I am certain I will win, but I am not so sure if the prize is worth the effort."

Carbucketty slitted his eyes. "Why so? Isn't Princess Cassandra the most favorable queen you have ever set eyes on?"

Though his face was turned away, Carbucketty could see the older tom shift visibly in discomfort: an act never shown to anyone else. "Indeed," he said flatly. "She is fair."

"But you desire her, do you not?" Carbucketty pressed. "After all, there is only one Princess of Ju--" He halted when Alonzo's brown eyes flashed up and he hissed in aggression.

"You will not speak of her again to me!" he snarled, baring his fangs. His ears pressed flat against his head and his tail stood erect and poised, slightly curved forward in the traditional manner of a feline being preparing to fight. The younger immediately backed down in the other's glare.

"I will not," he muttered. Only then did Alonzo turn his gaze and continue walking. The two were silent a long while, the trees passing them as silent sentinels. After a seemed eternity the forested quiet was broken by Alonzo's light chuckle.

"I have yet to see you attempt to find a female, Carbucketty," he said. "Are you timid, or intend to travel alone as I have done?"

Carbucketty returned the smile, liking Alonzo to be in a good mood. His tail flicked at a passing fly. "I have considered a life as you have chosen, but I fear I have not the skills for such. Even so, I have yet to find a queen that intrigues me."

Alonzo took a deep cleansing breath of the fresh forest air, a smile now placed firmly on his face. "I imagine so," he said, a caustic tone in his voice. "I also imagine you have never set eyes upon that young farmer's daughter we passed only yesterday coming to Pawprin, either."

Carbucketty's cheek fur stood on end as he swiped playfully at his friend. "I have so seen her."

Alonzo dodged easily and returned the attempt with a tweak of Carbucketty's ear. "I am very well conscious of that...for not five minutes had we stopped when you were trying to impress her with your craftsmanship and agility. It seems to have done you little good."

The two males had reached a dry riverbed by now, and as they walked only its banks, Carbucketty launched a quick sneak attack on Alonzo by pouncing on his turned back. With a semi-serious feline war cry, the two tumbled head over tail into the ditch. Alonzo landed on his back in the leaves still wet with dew, grunting loudly, with Carbucketty perched on his chest and grinning, holding the bundle of spears.

"If you insult me again like that I will use your tail to make arrow feathers," he playfully growled.

Alonzo grinned back at him, then with one kick flipped Carbucketty over and onto his back in the mud alongside him. The older tom then propped himself up on one arm and scoffed.

"You will have to get me down first."

The two laughed heartily and helped each other up, wiping mud from the other's back and untangling leaves. They crawled out onto the bank and shook their fur back into place, straightening their tunics. A few friendly growls passed between them before they continued their steady pace after the Pollicles. They hadn't gone ten paces when Alonzo stiffened and froze, holding up a hand and whispering: "Cease, Carbucketty. Do you hear that?"

The two stood more motionless than a stone in the middle of a prairie. Both their ears strained to pick up the faint sound again. There it was: the small snap of a twig and rustle of dead leaves to their left, beyond a ticket of laurel. Alonzo and Carbucketty gave a knowing glance at each other, then both slowly stalked forward, circling the thicket of laurels beside the riverbed that was the source of the shuffling noise. Alonzo held his tail poised high over his head as they crept forward on all fours, ready to drop it for the signal to attack. But the men were unprepared for what came.

Thundering out from the thicket, throwing laurel branches left and right, was a large, dark figure. It was a horrendous black beast, extremely muscular with fur blacker than the darkest night. It let out a scream, a horrible, ear-piercing scream. It mixed the sound of a Pollicle's hunting howl and a Jellicle's claws running across a steel sword. Carbucketty clapped his hands over his ears and stumbled back, as if dealt a physical blow by the screeching sound. He looked up in fear as the enormous beast whirled and set its blazing red eyes on him. He didn't have time to throw up his arms for protection before the gigantic beast raised an enormous paw and slammed it against Carbucketty's side, sending the young man smashing against a tree.

Carbucketty's breath was knocked from his lungs in a whoosh. He leaned against the tree for support and gasped for breath as the beast advanced again. It towered over him and raised an enormous clawed paw to strike again. Carbucketty held his newfound breath and quickly mumbled a prayer to Heaviside as he felt for sure this was the end for him. However, there was a flash of white and black, then the beast roared in pain and whirled around.

Carbucketty stood transfixed as he saw Alonzo courageously attack the beast, which was more than three times his size. Alonzo leaped at the beast's side, clawing and biting for all he was worth. It was a pity he didn't have his sword with him...then Carbucketty remembered. He looked to the bundle he had dropped, the tied spears decorated with Alonzo's hand-selected feathers. Without so much as a thought, he drew the small dagger from the belt around his waist and cut the line that held the spears together. Snatching one up, he threw it up to Alonzo. The white and black male caught the long weapon easily in one hand, and rising up on his back feet he remained teetering on the edge of the beast's enormous hunched back and slammed the spear down into it. At the same time, Carbucketty held his dagger tightly and leaped high, snarling, and thrust it deep into the beast's side with both paws. The enormous black creature reared back onto its hind legs, screaming that terrible scream again, and bucked the two Jellicles off. It roared again and turned, bounding off into the woods on four powerful limbs until it was gone from sight.

Carbucketty stood panting, looking about in confusion. The beast had run off with the dagger and spear still embedded in it. He looked to Alonzo, who pushed himself up, wiping dust and a bit of blood from his eyes, just as confused as the other.

"What in the name of Heaviside was that?" he panted, smoothing his ruffled chest fur. He looked across to Carbucketty, making sure his friend wasn't hurt. The younger tom blew dirt from his nose and sniffed.

"It smelled almost like a Pollicle," he answered. "But a little different..."

Alonzo sniffed the air and glared around them. "I have never seen a creature like that..." he rumbled.

Carbucketty's ears rose in a sudden eagerness. "A creature like that would certainly impress Deuteronomy and Cassandra," he said. "Much more than a pack of Pollicles."

Grinning recklessly in that same manner once again, Alonzo looked at him sideways. "Indeed it would." Bending down, he picked up the remaining spears, carrying two as he handed the remaining to Carbucketty. "Let's after it."

Carbucketty gripped his spear bundle resolutely. "Let's!"

Together they set off after the direction of the beast, and at a much faster pace. "You seem awfully determined," Alonzo panted as they ran. Carbucketty's answer was comical and dead serious at once.

"Of course...that was my favorite dagger."

Night fell over Felinera, a cloudless night where stars stretched as far as the eye could see, and all throughout Pawprin houses were dark and quiet as the vast countryside as the occupants settled down for the night. Windows went out one by one as candles and lanterns were closed and stifled, all windows except one.

Cassandra still sat at her window, the torches in their sconces along her wall burning bright and fresh. It was too warm of a night to have a fire. Draped in her purple silk robe she gazed up at the moon, a grinning crescent, and sighed wearily. The first day of games were over now. The competitors had returned from their hunt, though as night wore on it obscured her vision of the city below and she couldn't tell which of them was Alonzo...if any. It didn't plague her mind for long. He had no better chance of winning her heart than any of them.

Her eyes roved up to the moon again. Her lady. And not only hers, but her people's. The moon was the center of all Jellicle religion and faith; an object of worship that they praised in their annual celebration; the supreme embodiment of divinity that Cassandra would be mated under when her suitor was announced the winner of the games. It would be tomorrow evening...

Even now she could hear them: the countless servants and maids down in the kitchens and wine cellars, preparing food, drink, and decorations for the ceremony tomorrow night. She knew when the sun rose it would be ending... They would dress her in the grandest of gowns, as beautiful and radiant as the moon itself, and she would not even see her mate's face until they arrived at the town square below. Tonight was her last night as a maid...her last night of freedom.

Cassandra wasn't surprised when suddenly her face turned to the floor and tears began to trace the fur of her cheeks. She shouldn't be surprised...many were the nights she wept. Alone, frightened, vulnerable, but most of all lonely, she spent her nights in the stone prison. No one to turn to...no one to talk to...no one to comfort her...

And that was when the visions came.

Not painful, but frightening, her sight would darken, replaced by a series of images that flashed by, flickering like a fire's flames. Sometimes they passed so quickly she couldn't make them out. Other times they played as fluid as music, painting before her a story of abstract designs and pictures. This time, as she fell to the floor, weeping, the visions that bombarded her were as clear as her crystal tears.

A dark forest...two toms...fighting...a large beast...flashing metal...blood...a horrible scream...

It passed just as quickly, leaving the supposed goddess of her people curled in a fetal position on the stone floor, her tears flowing freely now, unrestrained. These strange prophetic visions came often, and she would go to Skimble for counsel and advice.

Skimbleshanks had his own chamber within the perimeter walls of Castle Jukard. A small stone dwelling set deep in the castle walls' south corner, Deuteronomy's advisor and recorder kept majorly to himself with his small garden and pond set in the castle grounds. Not a magician or alchemist, who Cassandra found were of no help at all, Skimble's wisdom beyond his golden years had proved time and time again to be a veritable saver of her sanity when these visions plagued her relentlessly. In no other Jellicle did she find a companionship as she did in Skimbleshanks...not in her own family.

"Skimble?" she whispered timidly as she pushed open the heavy oak door to the yellow-orange tabby's small dwelling. The scent of dust, ink, and old paper wafted out to her as the dull golden glow of a lantern greeted her eyes. As usual, Skimble was working long into the night. From the middle of the two-room stone cottage he sat at a wooden desk, dwarfed by stacks of old books and scrolls piled around him. His glassy green eyes smiled as he sighted the princess, and setting his writing quill back in its ink holder he stood up respectively as Cassandra entered and closed the door.

"Good evening, Your Highness," he purred with a tip of his head. "What brings you here so late?"

Holding her sleek arms at the elbows, Cassandra silently crossed to sit in the chair facing his desk, her silk robe drifting out behind her like a ghost. Skimble sat only after she did, closing the book he had been writing so laboriously in. "More visions, Princess?"

"Yes," she said quietly. "They are not as severe as in past times, but it is not only them that is troubling me."

"And what would that be, Princess?" When Cassandra said nothing, Skimble adjusted his heavy brown robe with a knowing gaze. "It is the wedding, isn't it?"

Cassandra nodded, determined not to weep again in front of her only friend. "I don't know what to do, Skimble..."

The old tabby smiled gently, and taking her lithe hands he stood up and drew her after him as he stepped stiffly to the door, wary of his aching joints. "Come, let's sit by the pond. You can tell me everything."

Cassandra's eyes watched the moon's reflection in the still pond intensely, the hot summer air around her heavy with the things she had told Skimble with utter confidence, spilling her worries and sorrows to him as she had done so many times in the past. The tom, sitting cross-legged beside her and too facing the water, listened without interruption until she fell silent.

"One could not blame you of such worries," he hummed. "Being selected a mate one does not even know is not something most queens desire."

"Then why must it be done with a princess?" Cassandra asked, equally as quiet. The sounds of the busy kitchen had long since stopped, but even in the middle of night it seemed that sometimes the walls could have ears. "The peasants mate as they see fit: chose partners they love and can be happy with."

"But they are only peasants, Your Highness," he answered gently. "They are not born with the task of ruling the country. Since history began it has been Jellicle tradition for mates of the princess to be chosen by triumph, for-"

"For princesses aren't allowed to fall in love," Cassandra finished bitterly. "And even if they did, their choice of tom may not be "suitable" for such a powerful position." She sniffed disdainfully, turning her face to look up at the tower chamber she knew to be her father's. "Curse you, Father!"

"Cassandra!" Skimble took hold of her arm sternly without hesitance, for he alone called the princess by her name outside her royal bloodline. "Do not say such things to your family. It is not their doing. They are simply following the tradition that has been a part of keeping Felinera one of the most powerful kingdoms in existence for centuries."

Cassandra let herself droop, gazing forlornly at his kind white face in search of the comfort she always found there. "Then what am I supposed to do?"

Skimble sighed, knowing that of all the times he'd offered advice, this would be the most delicate. "Your Highness," he began slowly. "Princesses have been going through these same situations for generations now. Your mother, and Munkustrap's mother... And never has there been a disgraceful outcome of any of Felinera's royal queens..."

"Except Munkustrap's mother..."

"Yes..." he agreed reluctantly. "And as much as I see it hurts you to be bound by a loveless marriage, it was decreed the day you were born that you had a duty to fulfill to your people. For the good of all Felinera you must carry that deed out, Cassandra. No matter how much it hurts..."

Cassandra's sleek, angled face fell to the ground at his words, knowing the truth in them but unwanting to accept it. Skimble had told her what she already knew, and to hear it finalized like this was condemning: pulling the lever that would drop the guillotine. The tom couldn't stand seeing his princess in such pain, and gently taking her chin he smiled as he brought her face up.

"You are still young yet, Cassandra," he said. "Young and wild, you yearn for the freedom of the forest when you are trapped inside these walls. You stand out among your family because you are different. Your blood dictates you are to sit on a throne, but your heart dictates you were meant to run the woods. I've watched you grow up, and I've seen this in you. So any decision you make, no matter what the outcome, I will support it. Behead me if it is necessary, but I know you will make the right choice."

Cassandra smiled sadly at his words, her tail curling to brush his in a gesture of sincere gratitude. "Thankyou, Skimble. You are a true friend..." She reached out and brushed his cheek, which he bowed his head respectively to. "I will do nothing to shame my family, and yet my heart wants to leave this place. I have seen the result of Grizabella's leaving, and I do not want to inflict that kind of grief on my family, but..." She shook her head, drawing back. "I will consider my options. Thankyou again for the comfort you've given me, Skimble...you have always been my guardian." Gently kissing his forehead, Cassandra stood in one graceful movement and swept back across the dark castle grounds toward her tower, where she would wait out the night in anticipation of tomorrow...

Dawn came in a blooming flower of gold and pink, its petals reaching out to cover the black sky of night. Its center peeked over the rolling countryside hills of Felinera in an explosion of golden light, warming the sky but doing nothing to ease the tense excitement that already hung in the air. On her beautiful white mare Cassandra rode slowly through the town square, her stone-faced composure of true royalty set on her regal features. Flanking her was her maid, Demeter, on a smaller brown and white pony. Though she had not yet changed into her gown that would be worn that evening, the pearly rose dress she wore now was the color of the creamy clouds of dawn above, standing her out as a rose among weeds.

The contesting toms looked up or stood respectively as Cassandra passed them, her slanted eyes roving over each and every prize they had brought from the forest over the night. Some had nothing, a few birds or fish at most, while others had the well-sought antlered deer and elusive foxes. Stopping at the end of the row of flags, she eyed Alonzo with the same detached coldness as the previous day. He hadn't rose to meet her face, and only when the clap of her horse's hooves stopped before him did he look up, preceded by his companion Carbucketty. At there feet lay five slain Pollicles: the dog-like beasts that roamed the forests. Large-fanged and large-muscled, they were a difficult animal to kill. The surprise that Alonzo and his companion had brought five back themselves she refused to let register on her face. Instead, she insulted them.

"Do you two have not even the decency to clean yourself after a hunt for your princess?" she stated flatly.

Alonzo, dirt-ridden from fighting and his tunic ripped and torn with stains of Pollicle blood, merely flicked back one black ear and grinned knowingly. "If it would please Milady, we will just be getting filthy again in the later competition. I would rather spend my strength fighting for something rather than grooming myself."

Gritting her teeth to keep from an undesirable outburst, Cassandra turned her nose into the air and prodded her white horse on by, not giving the two another thought. Demeter trotted quickly after, having not said a word.

"Why did you say such?" Carbucketty asked when the princess was beyond earshot, perplexed.

"There is something about these royal bloods that you must know, Carbucketty," the older tom answered, crouching to resharpen his spear heads. "They think they are gods. The peasants of Pawprin look up at them as superior beings." He held the spear aloft, testing its balance and weight. Perfect. "And perhaps they are, but as I am a traveler, I have no loyalty to them. I have seen too many royal families in my time to think of them than any more than cowards hiding behind money and a crown."

Whiskers quivering in obvious puzzlement, Carbucketty paused a moment before continuing. "Then why are you trying for this contest?"

"I have my reasons," was all he said.

Cassandra found her older half-brother Munkustrap at one of the tents set up near the far entrance to the town square. Examining the archery tools that would be used in a later contest, the tom of silver-striped fur glanced up warily at the princess and maid servant's approach.

"I am going out for my morning ride," Cassandra said simply. "I will be back before noon."

Fluffing back the velvet red cloak he wore lined in white ermine fur, Munkustrap waved away the bowmaker and moved his black stallion closer to his sister. "Be sure you are," he nodded. "For the games will start not much after, and you will need to be prepared for tonight."

"I understand, Brother." She turned her mare and galloped for the forest, Demeter following.