Catland - a humorous fantasy

Chapter Eleven: At the Twine and Bell

"Declare your names and your business here!" shrilled the voice of the cats' captain.  Greg realized, with a sinking feeling, that he had absolutely no idea what a plausible answer might be.  Was "Gregory Tilson" a reasonable name for a cat?  He wasn't even sure if it was a reasonable name for a human being.  He wasn't sure of much, just at the moment, except that those spear-points looked awfully pointy, and he had absolutely no desire to test their pointiness by means of his own soft flesh.

Luckily for him, Millicent now stepped forward.  Greg was certain that his wily companion would contrive some cunning lie that would disguise their identities and intentions and leave them free to go about their business.

"My name is Millicent Lamley," said Millicent Lamley.  And Gregory Tilson cringed in despair.

"What brings you here?" spat out the cat captain—a large and fierce-looking orange specimen.  "This entrance has been abandoned for decades.  You were spotted halfway down the ladders, you know.  If you thought to approach unnoticed, you were gravely mistaken."

"My dear captain," said a voice from off to one side.  "Such a thought never entered our minds."

The spears clacked and rattled as they swung round to confront the newcomer.  It was Leopold, lounging against a rock at the base of the final ladder.  In fact, he was draped across the rock rather seductively, and his white female form showed to advantage.  The captain's manner changed slightly—becoming less gruff, more reasonable.

"Look here," he said, "you were risking your necks, coming down that way.  If you weren't trying to creep in unseen, what the devil were you trying to do?"

"Why, to make a grand entrance, of course!" declared Leopold, propping himself up on his elbows and swinging one foot playfully.  "Any fool can waltz in at an open gate.  We wanted something a bit more—theatrical.  And you must admit, we achieved our aim."

The captain's eyes narrowed, but it was plain that Leopold's words were having their effect.  His manner was now dubious, rather than hostile.  In another minute he would be eating out of Leopold's hand.

"But see here now," he protested weakly, "you still haven't told me who you are.  And why are you so keen to make an entrance?  To impress who, exactly?"

"Why, all and sundry!" proclaimed Leopold without hesitation.  "You, for a start.  We are special envoys from the Kingdoms of the East, and our time here is wasted if we miss any opportunity to impress upon you—all of you!—how exotic and mysterious the East really is."

And Leopold winked—exotically and mysteriously—as if to drive home the point.  The captain's last resistance crumbled.  He put up his spear, and all the cats flanking him followed suit.

"You must forgive us for the rude welcome," he said earnestly.  "We aren't accustomed to strangers here.  Especially not Eastern strangers!  Our king will be most gratified to learn of your presence.  He expects you, of course?"

"Oh, gracious, no!" exclaimed Leopold, sliding off his perch and sauntering over to the overawed cat captain.  "And you mustn't tell him, either, you naughty man.  Our mission is cloaked in the greatest secrecy.  Er—theatrical secrecy, of course.  And I simply couldn't encounter a new-minted king without taking a long scented bath beforehand.  I must look frightful."

The captain clearly did not think Leopold looked frightful.  His wide eyes roved up and down the white cat's body as if with a feverish will of their own.  However, he had no wish to argue with the exotic creature in front of him.  This ivory-coated beauty wanted a bath, and a bath is what she would get.