pretty, Anthony!”
“Can you not manage plain, simple verse?”
“Surely Rustam would have scorned such frills!!”
“Well, what else would you expect of the clean-up boy?” Moti asked, and the others howled with laughter.
Anthony turned red with embarrassment and anger, clamping his lips shut to hold in hot words. Then his shoulders slumped, the flush faded, and he sighed. Once again, anger kindled within Balkis at seeing him so mistreated.
She could not help herself; she had to go to him, try to cheer him. She glanced out the rathole to make sure it was in shadow, unlikely to be seen—and it was indeed; the rat had chosen well. She squeezed her head through, and the rest of her flowed after, heart pounding. Then she skirted the wall, keeping tables and chairs between herself and the older brothers until she had to dare the last two feet of open space between a table and Anthony's stool. She covered the distance in two steps, not so fast as to attract attention, not so slow as to leave her exposed too long. There, she turned once to make sure all of her was under the stool and hidden from enemy eyes, and stretched forward to butt her head against Anthony's calf and twine herself about his ankles as well as she could without being seen.
She felt him stiffen, and hoped it was not with alarm. Her heart hammered—what if he leaped to his feet and kicked the stool over, thinking he had felt a rat?
But Anthony knew animals too well for that. His hand dropped down to swing beside the stool, apparently in weariness and negligence, but Balkis recognized a signal when she saw one, and stepped over to push her head against his palm. Anthony fondled her head, and she quivered with pleasure.fighting down feelings of alarm—a lost kitten was a lost kitten, after all, no matter the species, and Anthony was a friend who needed such reassurance as she could give.
Perhaps not—if he needed reassurance, his fear for her was greater than that need, for when his brother commented on Rustam's bravery in facing an overwhelming enemy, Anthony said, “It may be, Moti, but it also may be that he had more courage than sense. If he had been prudent, he would have known to
go back home where it was safer
“Just the kind of thing I might expect a sissy-boy to say,” Moti sneered, but Baradur caught the slight emphasis on the last words and frowned. “An odd way to say it, clean-up boy. Have you some hidden meaning?” His glance followed Anthony's hand; too late, Anthony drew it back to his lap. His brother hooted. “What are you hiding there beneath your stool?” He jumped up and came toward Anthony, sidestepping to see around his leg.
Anthony turned with him, looking wounded. “How could you suspect me of concealing anything, brother?”
“Because he does!” Moti made a grab and yanked Balkis out from beneath the stool, banging her head on the seat as she came. The room swam about her as he held her up with a cry of victory.
She clawed and yowled in spite of the nausea. The lad, though, must have tormented cats before, because he kept his hands and wrists beyond her range as he held her up with both hands, crowing, “Look, brothers! Anthony has brought a friend home, a little friend!”
The brothers shouted with delight and crowded in to begin a new and rather sinister game.
“Were you feeding her under the table?” the father demanded, his face darkening.
“And look!” cried Moti.” Tis a female! Anthony has found a girlfriend!”
“Aye, Anthony!” chorused Philip and Kemal, and Baradur demanded, “Shall you sleep with her, then?”
“Anthony the cat lover!” Kemal crowed, putting such a leer into the words that he gave them a double meaning.
“She will keep the rats from this house if you let her!” Anthony cried. “Let her go!” He leaped to catch Balkis from Moti's grip, but the lad pivoted, keeping Balkis from Anthony's reach, crowing, “Do you want her, then? Catch as cat can!” He tossed her to
“Can you not manage plain, simple verse?”
“Surely Rustam would have scorned such frills!!”
“Well, what else would you expect of the clean-up boy?” Moti asked, and the others howled with laughter.
Anthony turned red with embarrassment and anger, clamping his lips shut to hold in hot words. Then his shoulders slumped, the flush faded, and he sighed. Once again, anger kindled within Balkis at seeing him so mistreated.
She could not help herself; she had to go to him, try to cheer him. She glanced out the rathole to make sure it was in shadow, unlikely to be seen—and it was indeed; the rat had chosen well. She squeezed her head through, and the rest of her flowed after, heart pounding. Then she skirted the wall, keeping tables and chairs between herself and the older brothers until she had to dare the last two feet of open space between a table and Anthony's stool. She covered the distance in two steps, not so fast as to attract attention, not so slow as to leave her exposed too long. There, she turned once to make sure all of her was under the stool and hidden from enemy eyes, and stretched forward to butt her head against Anthony's calf and twine herself about his ankles as well as she could without being seen.
She felt him stiffen, and hoped it was not with alarm. Her heart hammered—what if he leaped to his feet and kicked the stool over, thinking he had felt a rat?
But Anthony knew animals too well for that. His hand dropped down to swing beside the stool, apparently in weariness and negligence, but Balkis recognized a signal when she saw one, and stepped over to push her head against his palm. Anthony fondled her head, and she quivered with pleasure.fighting down feelings of alarm—a lost kitten was a lost kitten, after all, no matter the species, and Anthony was a friend who needed such reassurance as she could give.
Perhaps not—if he needed reassurance, his fear for her was greater than that need, for when his brother commented on Rustam's bravery in facing an overwhelming enemy, Anthony said, “It may be, Moti, but it also may be that he had more courage than sense. If he had been prudent, he would have known to
go back home where it was safer
“Just the kind of thing I might expect a sissy-boy to say,” Moti sneered, but Baradur caught the slight emphasis on the last words and frowned. “An odd way to say it, clean-up boy. Have you some hidden meaning?” His glance followed Anthony's hand; too late, Anthony drew it back to his lap. His brother hooted. “What are you hiding there beneath your stool?” He jumped up and came toward Anthony, sidestepping to see around his leg.
Anthony turned with him, looking wounded. “How could you suspect me of concealing anything, brother?”
“Because he does!” Moti made a grab and yanked Balkis out from beneath the stool, banging her head on the seat as she came. The room swam about her as he held her up with a cry of victory.
She clawed and yowled in spite of the nausea. The lad, though, must have tormented cats before, because he kept his hands and wrists beyond her range as he held her up with both hands, crowing, “Look, brothers! Anthony has brought a friend home, a little friend!”
The brothers shouted with delight and crowded in to begin a new and rather sinister game.
“Were you feeding her under the table?” the father demanded, his face darkening.
“And look!” cried Moti.” Tis a female! Anthony has found a girlfriend!”
“Aye, Anthony!” chorused Philip and Kemal, and Baradur demanded, “Shall you sleep with her, then?”
“Anthony the cat lover!” Kemal crowed, putting such a leer into the words that he gave them a double meaning.
“She will keep the rats from this house if you let her!” Anthony cried. “Let her go!” He leaped to catch Balkis from Moti's grip, but the lad pivoted, keeping Balkis from Anthony's reach, crowing, “Do you want her, then? Catch as cat can!” He tossed her to
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