Cerberus by A. R. Silverberry

Author:A. R. Silverberry [Silverberry, A. R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tree Tunnel Press via Indie Author Project

1 From Act IV, Scene 1, A Midsummer Night’s Dream

Blaze

Until the cat came I lived a marginal existence. In 1689 such circumstances were not unusual for a child of uncertain origins, especially when that child is thrown on the mercy of a cold and mercurial lord. I was neither a member of the Earl’s household nor a stranger. I was neither formerly a servant nor without responsibilities. My chief job was to care for his monstrous horse, Devil, largely because I was the only one the beast would allow near enough to curry, saddle, and feed. I wasn’t paid for these activities, nor was I always required to attend to them. There were days when life was so dull, when so little was expected of me, that I took off for most of the day, exploring the surrounding woods and seashore.

It was on one of these sojourns that I caught my first glimpse of the cat. A storm had beaten down all morning but then passed, the last gasp of winter. I set off with no other aim than to wander through a fairyland of glistening fields and woods for a spell and then to park myself at the Earl’s pond, hoping to pull out a fish or two to fill my stomach. I was just casting my line when the cat came shooting over a high rock overlooking the water and dived in. She was nothing more than a gray blur, leaving me doubtful as to what I’d seen. A dozen seconds passed and then she burst up, wet and bedraggled, a good-sized fish wriggling in her jaws.

She swam to the flat stones where I was perched and climbed on. After dropping the fish at my feet, she gave herself a good shake, spraying copiously, and stood staring up at me with eyes as blue and luminous as seashells. A bolt of black lightning shot from her forehead to the end of her nose, the only other color in her silver coat.

She pushed the fish to me, as if to share. She ate her portion raw while I cut off a piece and proceeded to roast it over a fire. After our meal, we lay on the rock and slept until the sun cast long shadows.

I took up my pole, tipped my hat at her, and began hiking home. To my surprise, she followed. “I’ve got no place to keep you and nothing to feed you,” I said, pausing to run my fingers through her thick fur. It was the softest, most soothing thing I’d felt. She rubbed against my leg in reply. With a shrug I walked on while she trotted beside me.

A shortcut took me near the village. I had no mind to stop where I was assured of a fight with the local lads over the obscurity of my birth. Not that I was a coward. I generally came out the better from these scrapes, with bruised and swollen knuckles to show for it. But I had been away from my duties too long.

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