The Terror of the Raiders

Chapter Ten - Evil

Human avoidance had unfortunately become Charles' default, the instinct pounded into him by harsh experiences. He liked humans – they just didn't like him back. Most of the time he just wanted them to become his friends.

But that wasn't always possible. So, he waited.

It had been almost noon when the raiders had docked their ship, but the crowd of men kept growing as the sun slowly began to descend. Not until pink and purple began to streak the horizon did the area start to clear out.

From where he had been concealed for most of the day, Charles judged the lengthening shadows and they empty deck until at long last he considered it safe to move.

The little black kitten slid his way down the side of the ship. Thankfully when he landed it was on his paws this time, and his utter relief at having a steady surface under his feet was so strong that he could feel every muscle in his body relaxing from the sensation.

He felt intoxicated by the joy of it.

An accurate feeling, Charles reflected, as he took a step forward and almost toppled. It seemed that he'd gotten more accustomed to the rocking boat that previously thought.

It was terribly embarrassing for a cat – even one as young as him – to be as clumsy as a drunken fisherman.

He focussed all of his scattered attention back to his paws, to taking each slow step as steadily as possible. His ears flicked forward and his gaze dropped down.

Charles was determined not to fall.

His concentration was so strong that he barely noticed when he'd crossed from the wooden planks of the deck to a packed dirt path along the edge of this rather large village. And he didn't realize that there were humans near by until one of them picked him up.

The little boy couldn't be more that six winters old. He squealed with such joy that it hurt Charles' ears as he was roughly scooped up.

A shaggy mop of rich brown hair fell into a pair of bright blue eyes as the child looked down at his catch. Charles focused on the smudge of dirt down the ridge of his nose, and the generous splatter of freckles along his cheeks. Anything, really, to keep him calm enough not to lash out in surprise and fear.

The boy babbled along in the same strange tongue that the raiders had been using. Even his natural immature voice was deepened by the tones natural to this language. It was all nonsense to the kitten, but didn't seem to have any of the malicious undertones that children could be prone to using before starting some trouble or another. Usually with Charles at the receiving end.

An excited smile had split the boy's face wide enough that he was baring his teeth. The mouth opening and closing as unfamiliar sounds left it.

He paid attention to these small facts about his captor. The logical assessment and intake of information kept his heartrate steady and his claws sheathed as he was dragged further inland.

It didn't take long for them to arrive at their destination.

This was made obvious to Charles when the boy jolted to a stop and thrust the kitten upwards. Charles had to blink twice before his brain could catch up to his eyes, the rapid spin-about in the boy's grasp had made him a little dizzy.

The eccentric little human was still making his noises, bumbling along into the air as he showed his catch to a concerned looking adult woman.

"Ma!"

The little boy exclaimed as the woman took the kitten. Her eyes were the same and her face was dusted with just as many freckles, although her hair was much darker.

She patted the air with her empty hand and hushed her son, responding with softer tones in the same strange words.

Then she moved that hand towards her body until it was gently stroking Charles between his ears where her was pressed up against her torso. The kind touch was unfortunately unfamiliar to him, more used to a harsh smack or rough throw as he was.

It was enough to finally lower his guard and let him just enjoy the human company that he so rarely received.

Together the three of them made their way down the homes towards one near the end of the small strip. The little boy pulled open a door for his mother, and she stopped petting the kitten long enough to brush her fingers through her son's hair.

Then she placed Charles back into the boy's outstretched arms, making sure that his hold was gentle this time. She made her way to the fire at the centre of the house and the pot steaming over it.

This is nice, Charles thought.

It was nice not to be feared or hated for merely existing. It was nicer to have humans who both didn't mind him, and could actually see him to make that decision, unlike the blind old weaver from his home village. It was nicest of all to be inside the warmth of a hut with a kind hand stroking his back.

He almost didn't believe it, and the shock kept coming when the woman came back over and offered a piece of boiled rabbit that she'd fished out of the pot.

"Shh. Good boy."

She reassured him, using the same endearment that the raiders had on the ginger tom and two of the only words that he'd been able to learn. It was all so wonderful.

Which of course is why it wasn't able to last for very long.

A burly man barged his way into the home, sneaking up on the woman until he was close enough to place a kiss on her cheek with a loud smacking sound that had the little boy giggling.

He turned to his child with a tired grin, but the large hand paused midway as he reached out to the boy. His face darkened and became cold when he registered the creature his son was holding.

Words erupted from his lips in anger, the only ones Charles could understand were "black", "magic", and "evil".

His ears tucked back against his skull and the fur stood along his spine. The man was talking about him.

Stomping over to the little boy and gesturing wildly at the kitten. He grabbed Charles' scruff roughly and ripped him out of the little boy's arms without any concern for the feline.

Next came the march of shame back to the doorway with Charles still dangling from whitened fingers.

And finally, the toss out into the encroaching darkness.

It had been too nice to last.