Faormuc - J.B. Jones (reading an ebook .txt) 📗

That First Day

 The encouraging sunshine of a day that Michaela would remember sang to her. As it spread over the thriving farmlet it freed the voices of so many flowers of lustrous color. The blooms defined a border around abundant plants that arced toward the soil under the weight of ripening fruits and vegetables.  The young woman tended to the care of her pride and joy. She palmed errant pale whisps of hair from her face while she weeded and pruned; all the while, fussing at the green cat that played beside her.  Content to defy Michaela and swat at musically colored butterflies, the animal ignored her good-natured ribbing. 

 

 colored like music?  but I do hear them

 

MY Farm, Michaela always thought of it, separate from the holdings she and her husband shared. It was a walkable patch, perhaps two hundred strides in length and of narrower width by some slight bit. Four riders departed the nearby trail and violated its boundary.

 

 now  what is this

 

She rose to stand, shading her eyes with slim and soiled fingers while following the progress of the horsemen as their mounts ravaged her garden.  The slight woman bent to pluck a berry from one of the plants at her feet and stole a glance at her companion. With her tongue, Michaela squashed the berry against the roof of her mouth. She swallowed a burst of sweet nectar and chewed the pulp while giving free rein to her curiousity. She carried out a one-sided conversation in thoughts directed at her pet.

 

why are they are trampling MY Farm  who are these cretins

 

She shivered and goosebumps grew in the wake of the frisson that washed over her.  Michaela doffed her bonnet to wring it in both hands. Together, she and the cat watched the men approach. The first of many heart-felt wishes for the arrival of her husband came to mind.  Michaela spared a glance toward the orchard behind her.

 

The party, led by a young man outfitted in elaborate livery, - no, he is but a boy,  she realized - had not come far onto the property when the animal Michaela thought of as 'mostly-cat'  became wary. 

 

It came to its feet beside the young woman, pointing tufted ears at the trespassers. Leathery nostrils flaring, the cat sorted through smells in the air for the astringent signature of 'threat'. The cat sank into a crouch of feral readiness, grating a warning that trailed off to grumbles. Lowering its head, the feline drew back lips that exposed dampened yellowish teeth.  The tip of the animal's rigid tail twitched, echoing the creature's agitation. Glancing over a shoulder at the woman, the mostly-cat returned its attention to the intruders. It crept with two fluid paces toward the four men on horseback. 

 

 All but one of the horsemen and their mounts stilled.  The closest of those was a youngster of perhaps fifteen or sixteen summers. The young man sat the saddle of his active mount with confidence.  He was dressed in dusty black boots that came to his knees, blue breeches and a vivid surcoat that sported a colorful crest of some sort that Michaela did not recognize.  His companions wore attire just as dusty but more suitable to the trail. The rider observed the woman but paid more attention to the peculiar cat as he beat puffs of dust from his clothing and shifted atop his athletic steed to maintain balance.

 

 "And who in all the smoky Hells are you?" she thought at the invaders, the distance between them still too far for conversation.

 

The muscular horse under the youth, patience expended, chose that moment for defiance. It stabbed a forehoof into the dirt. A confident rumble from deep in its chest followed. Its rugged head bobbed as if to agree, 'we fight'.

 

That challenge snared the cat's attention and it crept several cautious paces closer.  At the start of its last stride toward the rider the wary feline froze into an attitude of vibrant concentration.  It halted a forepaw in mid pace, let it drift lower until grounded.  Eyes that never deviated from the rider atop his antsy mount grew animated, widening and narrowing, by turns.  Jade-colored hair bristled over the shoulders of the intense feline.

 

Michaela thought the animal appeared restrained somehow.  She heard a mixture of energetic growling and the quavered mewls of cat curiousity as those noises spread throughout the sun-blessed garden. Every sinew of its compact body vibrated. The cat's scrutiny of the rider seemed to be something different from mere predatory concentration to Michaela. Its approach was feline but the response to some prod, beyond her ken and perhaps any human's, altered what had been mostly-cat.

 

Sudden as thought, it rushed to the woman and turned, its splayed front claws foremost, stretching ahead. Near atop them, the raging threat of the no-longer cat squalled defiance as it faced the horsemen.

 

Michaela gaped, overwhelmed. The mostly-cat increased. As she watched, every aspect of civility sloughed away. The cat showed intense feral animosity; the effect more menacing than feline, by any measure Michaela considered.  A faormuc more.

 

"Col, I need you."

 

  At once, a recent argument between them sprung to painful recall.  "Michaela, I cannot read your mind.  That scary cat of yours may be able to, but I cannot!"  Close behind that disturbing memory came the ambush of a skin-tingling realization.

 

 storm bent

 

The cat looked at her and a hissing snarl spit from behind pointy fangs.

 

 The surge of Michaela's heart plumped a vessel beneath the skin at her temple. Her thought was tinged sore with a melancholy she would revisit another time.  It could not drown out the curiousity and burgeoning bloat of discomfort inflating her.

 

 The party of horsemen heeled their steeds into motion and crushed toward Michaela and the animated cat between them.

 

Michaela looked to the animal.  Colored the sedate green of a forest predator, and now glowing malevolence, it quivered as it dominated the territory in front of her.  As it grew more excited, muted-jade hair spread to reveal a subdued pattern of cloud grey.  Lightning shapes began between ears snugged firm against its too-large skull and forked along its flanks. Those markings came to life as the animal quaked.   And the beast grew to near twice its previous size.

 

She gasped and backed away, her eyes grew large and breath clogged in her chest. As frightened as she could remember, Michaela studied her pet, unable to find more than a smidgeon of what used to be mostly-cat. Michaela swallowed a scream, blinking those eyes made wide by the unnerving spectacle. With a hitching whoosh, breath returned to her and Michaela's thin brows arched to mirror the lines of astonishment that spanned her sweating brow. 

 

"What are you?" she thought. "And where is my kitty?"

 

On the heels of that absurd question came grudging but grateful acceptance.  Michaela worked at settling her emotions.  After all, she was not a complete stranger to oddity.

 

aye storm bent and ye would not be a cat neither but it is gladness I feel that you stand here with me my friend

 

The faormuc looked at her, insistent suggestions of an alien intelligence lay behind its intent eyes. Without warning, it turned and bolted.

 

*****

 "NO!"

 

She stamped her foot hard into the garden soil.  Dismay and murderous intentions clashed for her attention as she watched the creature run until it was absorbed by the greenery. 

 

The faormuc ghosted through the foliage toward where it knew the woman's mate to be, nostrils probing.  Scents it recognized pushed ahead of the breeze and compelled the animal to a halt. Stilled, its ears picked out the approach of the woman's mate and others from the rustle of the surrounding leaves as they came into the fruit orchard portion of the plantation.  Following another brief sniff of the air the cat rose and reversed course. 

 

Michaela was no less dismayed when the faormuc soon returned. It whispered through the plants to rest at her feet. She stood staring at the creature, yet to decide murder.  The critter groomed with blythe indifference to her.   No trace of the aggressive predatory intensity the cat had shown remained.  But it was still twice as large.

 

She could not pry her attention from the cat at her feet.  It sat beside her with attention for naught but athletic grooming.  The small and tufted ears perked and rotated to sounds of interest.  Now and again the faormuc looked back at the path it had taken earlier.  Following the animal's eyes, she looked where it directed.  Michaela squeaked her surprise at the whicker of a horse.  She had forgotten the trespassers for a few moments.  They were close.

 

Whirling with a pirouette that ended with her glaring at those who had ruined a fair bit of her farm, she spit out a greeting.

 

"What!  What have you done to MY FARM?  Not a step. Not one more step you inconsiderate bas..."

 

The colorful and confident rider was seven long paces from where the woman stood with her odd cat. While tapping a supple quirt against an itchy blemish on his cheek, he watched the waifish woman dodge and dart as she struggled to spy the damage done. He smiled at her until the heated berating she spewed got on his nerves.  His own temper surged. 

 

That a young woman, not long from girlhood should disparage him so.  And in front of his men; each bound to discretion, true. Yet, still.  He sat straighter in his saddle.  This cannot be. I am the Royal Heir. I shall instill the required discipline.  He heeled his mount a pace closer.

 

"Girl!  You!" 

 

The unpredictable animal lounging at the woman's side interrupted its face-washing in the middle of a casual swipe. The young Royal saw lengthy claws emerge from each paw as the cat stretched in the afternoon sun.  As those weapons reached toward him, it turned each to catch and reflect glints of light. An uncivilized squall erupted from the creature he watched, freeing strings of drool that fell from its jowls to the garden soil.  

 

Despite the afternoon warmth, the display was chilling to the young Heir. Confusion pinched the boy's pudgy face when he noted rainbows of refracted sunshine.  Near enough to discern with some slight clarity, he focused on the cat's talons.  They blazed in the sun's attention and looked to be crystalline? metallic?  He shuddered and thought to himself, "How can that be?"  He also thought that it would be a fine time for protection and regretted telling his men before they entered the farm, "I will handle this. You will await my command."

 

The faormuc allowed its ebon lips to part revealing a pointed smile. Flexing one rapier tipped paw, the cat squared its body to face the noisy boy and grumbled a surly warning.  Each claw dipped toward the pads, one by one, a not-so-benign wave.  With a jaw-clicking yawn it exposed a maw bristling with yellowed teeth that would rend flesh from bone. They were awash in fluid that leaked as streamers from its muzzle, reflecting as liquefied gold with the sun's kiss.

 

Deciding that scents in the air had changed to those of apprehension and sensing the astringency of threat fading away, the faormuc nodded once.  Broaching a dismissive sneeze, it returned to grooming.

 

Michaela was not so unperturbed. She hurled the pesky and demanding rider her undivided attention.  At the same time, her shoulders spread with an unconscious nod toward a larger appearance. The tiny woman seemed to inflate as she rammed her upper body toward the intruders, the slight point of her jaw in the lead.

 

"Are you insane?  Why are you killing my...my..."

 

"My children!" she thought.  Tears streaked the dust on her face into tiger stripes.

 

Tiny fists, rested first on the points of narrow hips, soon beat against her thighs. Michaela marched in place, staccato