CHAPTER TWELVE

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Luisa’s final and most interesting rite was with the runners, led by Mr. Cooper.  The runners were a postal service, their ranks and access defined by colourful sashes. They delivered messages around the network of tunnels and corridors that made up Cataindar and were summoned with the yell of runner!

She had been paired with two young catains Ginger and Flecks. Ginger was male, his colouring of fur the same as his name, and Flecks a female, with brown fur and white patches on her ears and shoulder blades. Luisa learnt they had known one another since they were kitains.  Once shown around their sorting room, she was handed a red sash, the lowest-ranked colour. They set out at a jog.

“Alright princess, well, we got a pretty easy day today, but still a whole load of messages to get done, including a bunch in the Dryliad, so we won’t need to run too fast, anyway, let’s get to it.”

Message by message they traversed Cataindar’s length and Luisa had the chance to observe the differences in Cataindar’s structure and design. In the area surrounding the Great Cavern the corridors were sculpted high, with carved arches. Adoring the walls were the crumbled remains of decorations and catain runes.

Jogging along Flecks explained that on the runner’s oldest maps this area was called ‘Carchar’, and that’s how they referred to it. Carchar also housed the scougers and readers training rooms and quarters, entry to which was forbidden to all but runners with the highest-ranked sash.  They delivered their message to a runner that stood to attention at the scourger’s iron gates. Luisa eyed his gold sash, as a group of armed scougers entered the gates.

This is sweet.

Continuing their run Flecks and Ginger were chatty and kept Luisa informed. They passed the huge glass doors and brass piping that marked the readers area. The readers were Cataindar’s academics, administrators and political leaders.  The abbot was always chosen from the readers and once elected it was a position kept for life. The readers also practiced the arts of the dewin, the details of which were kept secret. 

The areas immediately beyond Carchar, were called Labordy. This region housed Cataindar’s lesser guildens. The corridors were regular, human, height. They retained a faded grandeur, decorated with cracked wooden carvings. For the runners each door was at least numbered and possessed finely carved knockers, (Flecks explained a knocker was a popular carving choice for the Cataindar Carver Championship). 

As they went further and further afield, the corridors began to slope downwards. The structural quality declined, the ceiling lowered and the ground became uneven underfoot. The features rapidly declined the further they snaked down into the depths of cataindar, along with this decrease in quality, was an increase in Catains. Their jog was slowed to a walk as they pushed through tight crowds of gaunt catains. They were thin but busy, bustling around, with small carts, carrying water, pieces of root. All stopped, waved, bowed and curtsied.  Unnumbered rickety doors, were tucked in close next to one another, some forgoing a door for just a small curtain.

Luisa struggled not to cover her nose. The air was thick and stinky. Their progress slowed further still, Luisa’s hair was plastered to her forehead, and sweat ran between her shoulder blades, the red corduroy of her dress clung wet to her skin.

Clearwater will definitely need to wash this again.

They passed a corridor that Luisa noticed went ten feet in its intended direction and then abruptly ended in a shabby makeshift wall.  A wood plaque hung, and dotted on the walls jagged texture were a number of small root statues and a lit candle.

Luisa stopped, looking at the Catain runes,

“What is this?”

“Oh… a claim,” Ginger looked grim, his fur clumped in perspiration, “It was a really bad claim a long time ago.”

Flecks shuddered her fur rising and falling, “That led to quite a big village once, then the whole thing was… claimed.”

“A claim?”  Luisa looked up at low ceiling above her head, it was roughly excavated,

They meant a cave-in.

“Yeah,” said Flecks, “this part of Cataindar is called the Drylliad. This claim happened years ago, just before Ginger and me were born. We have had two since, all in the Drylliad. It’s not as old, not as secure… anyway. Come on, let’s get these messages delivered, so we can go.”

Behind each shabby door that opened were the residents of the Drylliad. Their hollow eyes lit up to have their messages delivered by their new princess. Each made sure to bow or curtsy graciously, showing their ribbed bodies,

Luisa was glad when they got out of the Drylliad and headed back to Labrody.

Ginger and Flecks led her to a little place called the Runner’s Café, which was a noisy room filled with tables, stools and runners with an array of coloured sashes.

Ginger went on to tell Luisa a story about the scouger leader Finn, who was Ginger’s mother’s cousin twice removed.  They shared a similar colouring, though Ginger had a darker fur and brown eyes. He couldn’t get far into his tale without Flecks leaning back on her stool, clutching her chest,

“Oh dragons! Oh Finn! Finn is my favourite scouger, he is so gorgeous I can’t even hear his name without having a furball attack!”

“Finn is a hero, ” said Ginger with authority, he spoke mostly to Luisa, and flecks was still swooning, “he was the only Catain to…”

Flecks interrupted again, listing off Finn’s qualities on her paw,

“He is the leader, he has been in like, a million fights, he has killed loads of baddies, and he is just generally totally amazing.”

“Well whatever,” said Ginger, “I like Thorne anyway, now she is beautiful and an amazing fighter.  When I become a scouger I am going to marry her and all our kitains will be readers or scougers.”
Flecks laughed scornfully,

“Haha Ginger you’ll never become a scouger! You were too weak as a kitain and now you’re an old ratface! And anyway, you can’t fight!”

Ginger reacted badly, pulling his face into a snarl.

“Take back calling me a ratface!”

“Never, ratface!”

Ginger pounced at Flecks and they rolled around in the café with Flecks landing on top pinning Ginger to the ground.

Ow, Flecks, let me go!

There was a hubbub in the café, older catain runners called out,

By the dragons!”

Stop that!”

In front of the princess as well!”

Flecks released her hold as the Head of the Runners, Mr. Cooper, had seen the scuffle and was currently pushing his way past runners towards them.

Ginger! Flecks!” He hissed, drawing back his teeth while approaching the three, Ginger and Flecks fled on all fours, tails up in panic, Luisa followed, running behind them feeling very identifiable as the only human in Cataindar, she looked round to see Cooper stopped, quite out of breath and laughing to himself. 

Back in her quarters, Luisa wished she could skip the day at her grandmothers'.

Her rites were finally completed. Tomorrow she would be going passed the iron gates she had seen.

Finally the day of the scougers had arrived.

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Tim

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