Ciara—Negotiations

	As far as Ciara was concerned, Blackpool was a disappointment.  Past the bright blue flags on the walls, it looked like barely more than a cluster of square buildings around a squat, fire-blackened castle.  It had taken them only three days, on their stolen horses, to reach the city, and it was hard to imagine that it had been worth the effort.
	“It looks awful,” said Ciara.
	“But it’s rich,” said Deirdre.
	As if that was something to be proud of.  Ciara snorted, and fussed with her mare's reins, trying, again, to remember how to use them.  She had been surprised when Deirdre had gotten the horses.  All the way from Conner’s camp, her mother had insisted that they would be going to Blackpool on foot.  Then, on the second day of their trip, Deirdre had slipped away after lunch, and come back leading the pair they rode now.
	“When did you become so mercenary?” said Ciara.
	“When I discovered that fighting was the only thing I can do right,” said Deirdre.
	Deirdre kicked her heels into her horse’s flanks, and he bolted up the hill.  Ciara nudged her horse to follow, and had to grab the mare's ears to keep from being bounced out of the saddle when the animal startled.  She'd never ridden any other horse besides Embarr, and she'd forgotten how used to each other they were.
	“You should have let me bring Embarr,” she said.
	“We're not going to get into that fight again.  I didn't want you to have him in the first place, and I saw what happened to you at Oseille.  You could have been killed,” said Deirdre.
	“That was your fault.”
	“I didn't shoot you.  And I didn't make you ride a barely trained stallion out into the middle of a fight.”
	“You just led the charge,” said Ciara.
	Deirdre flattened her ears, and flashed her teeth.  But Ciara saw her mother's tail curl with shame.
	“That horse of yours is too dangerous,” said Deirdre.
	“He’s my friend, and he always kept me safe.  I wouldn’t have made it to Oseille without him,” said Ciara.
	“You're as sentimental as your father.”
	“But I don't run away from people who need me.  What could he have done to you?”
	“Taken you back,” said Deirdre “I don't want to lose you again.”
	The gate swung quietly open in front of them and Deirdre pulled her horse back so they were riding side by side when they passed through.  Inside, Ciara was struck by how still the city was.  The streets were almost empty.  The few people who were out were huddled together in groups of four or five.  Nobody raised their voice above a murmur, and they scooted out of the way of the horses without looking up.
	“What's wrong with them?  Rabbits have more spirit than this,” said Ciara.
	“They're scared.  Not everyone has your self-confidence,” said Deirdre.
	“They're scared?  What's happening is their fault,” said Ciara.
	“Watch what you say.  They’re very proud of themselves, and they've still got the most powerful army in the world,” said Deirdre.
	“Then why do they need us?”
	Ciara yanked hard on the reins, and wheeled her mare around, forcing a nearby group of lynxes to scatter  The mare squealed and flung her head from side to side in protest, but Ciara had her under control.
	“What do they want?  There’s nothing in Oseille. It’s just a place for people to live,” she said.
	“I would have thought that was obvious.  You have land,” said Deirdre.
	“So?  There's land all around us, too.”
	“Most of it is thick forest, and that's no good right now.  And you have the markets.  And they can keep you safe.”
	“It wouldn't be worth what we'd have to give up,” said Ciara.
	They were attracting a crowd.  The lynxes who had scattered in front of the mare's hooves had drifted into a ragged circle around them.  The attention made the tips of Ciara’s ears grow hot with misplaced embarrassment, and she wheeled her horse in a tight circle, looking for a way to escape.  She had gotten used to being a curiosity at home, but then she had always had a place to run to when it overwhelmed her.
	“I have to admit, your rabbits seem to have done well for themselves, so far.  But it won’t last.  You know they’ll be better off with somebody else in charge,” said Deirdre.
	“Rabbits have survived for as long as foxes have, all by themselves.  We don’t need you,” said Ciara.
	“But we need you,” said Alana, behind her.
	The little cat broke away from the circle of onlookers, and took hold of Ciara's bridle, easing the mare to a halt.  The horse nuzzled Alana’s arm, and Alana murmured soothing sounds into the animal's ear.
	“Did you ever think to ask?” said Ciara.
	“Asking is what rabbits do,” said Alana, and she held up her free hand before Ciara could answer. “I know, I don’t like it either.  But that’s the sort of attitude you’re going to have to deal with.”
	Deirdre jumped down from her horse, and passed the reins to a pudgy male lynx standing nearby.
	“After you’ve come this far, you should at least think about it,” she said.
	“I have thought about it,” said Ciara.
	She dismounted, carefully, and let the same cat take her horse as well.  Deirdre put her hands on Ciara’s shoulders and pushed her across the street and down a narrow alley.  Alana caught up to them after a few steps, and took up a flanking position to Ciara's left.
	“I'm glad to see you again.  I wish it didn't have to be like this,” said Alana.
	“You seemed pretty eager, back in the Red Wolf,” said Ciara.
	“Empty bravado, that's all.  I was alone in enemy territory and some of those bucks looked pretty big,” said Alana.
	“They could have taken you apart before you could blink.”
	“Really?  I would have thought they'd have to wait until their brave vixen was finished with me,” said Alana, and she grinned.
	They passed through a maze of interconnected streets and alleys, which narrowed as they went further into the city.  The good stone streets gave way to old, cracked cobbles, full of puddles.  Several of the buildings they passed were well built, but badly damaged, and looked on the verge collapsing.  Ciara could smell raw sewage, leaking in from somewhere.
	“The place is falling apart.  What could you even give us?” said Ciara.
	“We can fight.  Your mother was right about that,” said Alana.
	“We don't need an army,” said Ciara.
	“I think you do.  You’ve been lucky, but everyone has to fight sometimes,” said Alana.
	“I don't think so.  Not as long as you can still think,” said Ciara.
	After a few more turns they came to a small courtyard paved with gravel.  A sickly tree grew in the middle of the yard, and the whole thing was surrounded by a rusted iron fence that was missing pieces all the way around.  The far end of the courtyard was filled with the solid brick wall of the castle.
	“Our secret entrance,” said Alana.
	The cat reached into her shirt, and took a key from around her neck.  They followed her across the courtyard to one corner of the castle wall, and an old wooden door, half hidden by shadow and a dying rose bush.
	“That's some secret,” said Ciara.  
	Alana huffed, and wrestled the door open.  The old wood was half rotten, and swollen with the damp, and it stuck and ground so over the rocks that Ciara was certain half the city must have heard it.
	“If you're really going to try to talk to my mother, you need to be polite.  I know what you think of us, and I agree.  But she won't,” said Alana.
	With that, the little lynx vanished into the darkness beyond the open door.  Ciara started to follow her, until Deirdre threw an arm across her chest.
	“Whatever you decide, I won’t blame you,” said Deirdre.
	“You mean, as long as I decide to let them have their way,” said Ciara.
	“No, I mean that no matter what.  Giving Sabia what she wants is just the least painful option,” said Deirdre.
	“Nice of you to think about that, now.” said Ciara.
	The old door led into a cramped stone room with standing water on the floor and patches of mold on the walls.  A single torch hung in a sconce in the wall, and shed just enough light to let them find their way.  The room was empty except for a short flight of stairs that led up to a curtained doorway.
	Alana was already at the top of the stairs, waiting for them.  She held the curtain open for them with the tips of two fingers, and wrinkled her nose at the moldy stink of the cloth.  The steps were freezing under Ciara’s bare feet, and the corridor at the top of the stairs was no better than the room at the bottom.  Water seeped down the walls in wide rivulets, and made the stone floors slippery.
	Eventually they came to a wide set of polished double doors.  They were dark with age, but they were well cared for, and their brass handles had been polished.  Alana took another key from around her neck and when she unlocked them, they swung open at her touch.  On the other side, the castle was an entirely different place.  The floor was covered with a dark blue carpet so thick that Ciara's feet sank into the pile as she walked.  Ornate tapestries hung on the walls and, Ike the ones in Cearnach, each tapestry showed an important event in the city’s history.
	“These are what are left of the family quarters.  Sabia can do whatever she likes here, and she doesn’t trust foxes,” Alana said.
	“I’m not going to be bullied,” said Ciara.
	“No, listen.  Mother isn’t a bad person, but she's not very modern.  And she enjoys fighting,” said Alana.
	At the end of this hall was a single, wide door made of light wood, with an ornate silver handle.  Alana knocked on the door three times and drew back.  The pale door swung open as smoothly as the doors ahead of them, and Ciara's breath caught in her throat.  Sabia at all what Ciara had been expecting.  Queens were supposed to be like Fithir, tall and confident.  Sabia was almost as short as Ciara was, and so thin that the black dress she wore hung in loose folds over her arms.  But the old cat's back was straight, and she wore her pride like armor.
	Deirdre bowed politely to her, and Alana dipped in a quick curtsey.  Sabia ignored them and stared at Ciara.
	“You are a guest in my city, child,” said Sabia.
	Ciara felt Deirdre’s elbow dig into her side and her mother hissed something in her ear, but she ignored it.  She kept her attention on Sabia instead.
	“I'm your prisoner,” said Ciara.
	“Maybe.  I never expected that your mother would actually bring you back to me,” said Sabia.
	“I never planned to come.  What would be the point?”
	“Smart girl.  You're only here now, because my daughter asked me to see you, and wouldn't let up until I agreed.  But since you're here, won't you show me the respect I'm due?”
	“You haven’t earned any respect from me, yet,” said Ciara.
	Deirdre prodded her again, hard enough to make her ribs ache, but Sabia only grinned.
	“Good.  I was afraid that you were going to be as soft as the rabbits you live with,” she said.
	“I try, every day of my life.  But I'm still too much of a fox,” said Ciara.
	“You will never be anything else,” said Sabia.
	The old lynx waved a hand at the room behind her, gesturing for them to go in, but Sabia grabbed Deirdre’s arm before she could pass.
	“You have things to do,” she said.
	Deirdre stiffened, and Ciara hoped that her mother would refuse.  She was afraid of being left by herself, in the middle of a strange city.
	“You gave me your word, you won't hurt her,” said Deirdre.
	“She's only a child.  As long as she  behaves herself, she'll be fine,” said Sabia.
	“You know what I'll do to you if you hurt her,” said Deirdre.
	“That might be fun to see.  But I don't hurt little girls, you know that.  There's no sport in it,” said Sabia.
	Deirdre hesitated a moment longer, and Ciara reached out to take her hand, to get her mother to stay.  But Deirdre walked away, tail dragging on the ground, without looking at her.
	Sabia’s quarters were as stark as a military barracks.  She had a bed and a desk in one corner, across from the only window.  The floor was bare stone, with only a thin carpet from the door to the foot of the bed.  But there was a small iron stove in the middle of the floor, and the air in the room was stuffy and dry.
	Sabia pulled a hard wood chair out from under her desk for Ciara, and eased herself down on the edge of her bed.
	“I want to help you,” said Sabia.
	“By attacking my home?” said Ciara.
	“I will destroy your town, to keep Connor from having it.  But I'd rather save it, if I can,” said Sabia.
	“She means it,” said Alana “Mother, I told you, that's not the way people do things now.”
	“That's their problem.  Now hush, girl.  Your opinion doesn't matter now,” said Sabia.
	Alana snorted, and perched on the shelf under the window, with her arms wrapped around her knees.  The little lynx gave Ciara a sympathetic glance and turned to stare out the window, her stub of a tail whipping back and forth.
	“How can you help me?” said Ciara.
	“I'd have to leave a permanent garrison there.  It wouldn't be very big, just two hundred fighters during the war.  Maybe a hundred after,” said Sabia.
	“And that's it?”
	“That's a lot,” said Sabia.
	“It's too much.  Fire can be put out.  Houses can be rebuilt,” said Ciara.
	“Can dead rabbits be brought back?” said Sabia.
	Fear made Ciara's stomach cramp, and she was angrier than she had ever been in her life.
	“You aren't going to win like that.  Do you really think all you have to do is flex your claws, and we'll roll over?  Don't be stupid,” said Ciara.
	“I told you,” said Alana.
	Sabia folded her hands in her lap, closed her eyes and tilted her head up towards the ceiling, like she was praying.  The light from the window showed how ragged with scars her fur was.
	“You’re afraid, aren’t you?  You’re terrified that when you die, everything you’ve done will come apart,” said Ciara.
	Sabia flattened her ears and snarled, showing every one of her teeth.
	“I'm not afraid of anything, I fight because I enjoy it,” said the old lynx.
	Ciara wrinkled her nose at the stale smell of Sabia's breath, and wondered how she had ever felt at home around predators.
	“Connor’s afraid,too.  Because he doesn't have an heir.  But you do,” she said.
	“I used to think so,” said Sabia.
	The old lynx stood,and smoothed herself out, replacing her anger a smile.  Ciara didn't believe her.  The old cat's ears stayed close to her head, and the tips of her fangs showed when she spoke.
	“You’ve had a long trip, and you must be tired.  Alana will find you a room, and we will talk again tomorrow,” said Sabia.
	“I don't think so.  I've had enough, and I'm going home,” said Ciara.
	“Stay the night, anyway.  I think your mother will want to see you in the morning.”
	“She can go on wanting, then.”
	She got up to leave, and Alana unfolded herself from her perch under the window.  The girl reached the door first, and put her back to it, blocking Ciara's way.
	“It's not quite that simple.  The gates have already been barred,” said Alana.
	“Now?  Sunset is still hours away,” said Ciara.
	“Yes, but you can never be too careful, can you, princess?” said Sabia.
	“I knew this was a mistake.  I wanted to keep everyone safe, not just my friends.  I forgot I can't trust anyone else,” said Ciara 
	She shoved Alana out of the way, and fled into the freezing hall.  All of the doors they had passed were still open, and she could smell fresh air coming in from the courtyard below.  She leaped down the stairs, slipped and skinned her knees on the slick basement floor, and tumbled out into the weak afternoon sunlight.  The bandage on her arm slipped as she picked herself up, and she could feel blood trickling down her arm.
	“It was worth trying,” said Alana.
	Ciara didn't have the strength to be surprised.  She only wondered why the little cat was there.
	“Why do you care?” she said.
	Alana leaned against the castle wall, and nibbled at the tip of a claw for a minute before answering.
	“What you do you want me to say?  That's it's because I care about what happens to your rabbits?  They're your friends, not mine,” she said.
	“I know better than that,” said Ciara.
	“The truth is, if we try to fight anyone again, we'll lose.  And that would kill this city.”
	“Cearnach survived.  You burned it to the ground, and now it looks better than it did before.”
	“That's because your father knows when to back down,” said Alana.
	“I'm not sure,” said Ciara.
	Ciara's legs were stiff with the long ride, and the cold, and she hadn't slept much since she'd left Oseille the first time.  Now that she was out in the open again, and away from Sabia's terrible barracks room, she felt crushed under the weight of her exhaustion.  But there was still a hot little kernel of anger in her chest, which wouldn't let her stop.
	“Don’t bother about finding a room.  I don't care what your mother said, I don’t trust her,” said Ciara.
	“You're not supposed to.  But let me give you something, just for tonight.  You could get in trouble, wandering around here after dark,” said Alana.
	“I’ll take my chances,” said Ciara, and she turned and ran.