The Cat

The cat sat on the mat.  But it was no ordinary cat, and this was no ordinary mat.  Mitzi was a Siamese seal point that considered herself the Princess of all cats, one whose peerless pedigree had descended unblemished down the ages and whose lithe grace was the envy of all felines, large or small.  Everything about her was unhurried, as though she knew all that was about to occur and had commanded the order of its appearance.  One day she would be a Queen and she would rule in her own right.  It was ordained.  Lions, tigers, leopards, cheetahs, jaguars, panthers, cougars, margays, all would do her bidding.  The smaller wildcats and their domesticated cousins would fall naturally into line.  Even now, they deferred to her.  So there she sat, compact, serene, majestic, composed.  The mat lay quietly, waiting for any hint of command from its mistress and then it would launch itself wherever she willed, for this was a mat that was the envy of all flying carpets that crossed the kingdom with their regal charges.  The mat was named Socrates.  It had been handwoven by one thousand maidens and made of the finest eternal silks and it exhibited all the colours of the rainbow, and all the shades in between.  When so inclined, it could fly faster and higher than any creature of the air, and even outpace the swiftest arrow, and yet it could stop or turn in an instant, while all the time, Mitzi would feel as though she was stationary. 

The pair were known all throughout the lands and they travelled everywhere with impunity, for they were under the protection of the Maharaja, and a fiercer lord the people had never experienced.  His rule was always obeyed for otherwise it carried terrible consequences.  Even his wife, the Maharani, had found that out to her cost, for she had sought to besmirch the High Chancellor’s reputation with falsehoods, but the truth of the matter had been brought to the Maharaja’s attention by one of her own chambermaids, and the Maharani had been cast into the dungeons, from which her return was, at best, unlikely.   Mitzi liked her lord’s company and would often softly pad her way into the Great Chamber when he was holding Court and hop up into his lap to be stroked and caressed.  She would press up under his chin to attract his attention, an act that prevailed over affairs of State.  She also had access to his bedchamber and would curl up on the opulent bedspread between his feet, her constant purrs lulling him to sleep. 

Mitzi and Socrates would even accompany the Maharaja’s forces on their campaigns to seize more territory of strategic or resource significance, or in battles to protect the existing empire.  Perhaps “accompany” may not describe the relationship accurately, for they flew far above, and out of range of any missiles or catapults, but were in a position to observe the progress of conflicts and deployments of troops.  Mitzi had a fascination for these tactics.  For her, it was the equivalent of playing with little toys or balls of knitting wool; she even used to air-swot with extended claws as though she could influence the outcome. 

In late Spring, Maharaja Srithi Gupta embarked on yet another campaign to extend his large Indian empire and his armies soon crossed the Mahanadi River into the land of the Swangala, where they met with staunch resistance.  Srithi Gupta forced his troops onward and brought his great elephants to bear on the defenders.  They were capable of trampling all before them and he sensed another great victory.  Mitzi in the skies above, crouched, watching in awe the scattering Swangala.  But what she also observed, which her master’s forces could not yet see, were onrushing prides of Asiatic lions that were heading straight for the elephants.  There were so many of them and they jumped onto the elephants and bit at their tails and trunks and dug their sharp claws in.  Soon the elephants broke off their attack and headed away from the fight, returning to the ford across the mighty river.  The lions stood their ground and watched as the bellowing creatures made their escape.  The lions then targeted Srithi Gupta’s exposed troops who also turned and fled back across the Mahanadi to their own territory.    Unfortunately, during the crossing, Maharaja Srithi Gupta’s galley capsized and he, and his entourage, all drowned in the strong current.  The Swangala did not pursue the retreating army but were content to remain on their own lands.  Their leader was young and bold and had been in the thick of the battle from the beginning.  All the lions answered his bidding and returned to the hills from whence they had come.  His soldiers cleared the battlefield and tended the wounded on both sides, then sent a messenger to the opposing forces that they could retrieve their wounded without harm to themselves; which they did.  And so the hostilities ceased. 

Mitzi and Socrates flew back to the palace; she had a heavy heart for she would sorely miss her lord.  The sorcerer was waiting for them: the Maharani had gone mad as a result of her long incarceration and the empire needed a rightful leader – it was now time.  Mitzi stretched and yawned.  She enjoyed her life; it was carefree; she could observe without being involved; no responsibilities burdened her- even her food was brought to her, and there was a marvellous freedom.  But perhaps life was more than this.  She had been far too young when her father directed his Court sorcerer, the Wizard Paradhi, to change his beautiful daughter into a Siamese, giving her great powers of observation and memory, and yet protecting her from aggressive suitors and palace intrigues.  The years had passed and Mitzi had learnt so much through these powers.  Srithi Gupta had left the instruction that she was to be restored on his death, and so it was now her time.  She was to become the Maharani and would rule as a ‘great Queen’ in her own right.  Wizard Paradhi uttered his incantations over the head of the sitting Mitzi and she transformed into the most stately Princess, soon to be Maharani.  All those nobles and lay people who were gathered in the Chamber witnessed this deed as a confirmation of her right to title and bowed before her. She acknowledged them as a regal personage would. 

As this transformation was taking place, another amazing transformation was similarly occurring.  The magnificent mat morphed into a throne.  It was the finest throne they had ever seen; the finest in all India; in all the Near and Far East there was nothing to compare, for it was the purest marble, inlaid with gold and its extremities were studded with large sapphires, rubies, diamonds, emeralds, all set in veins of lapis lazuli, and it seemed that the whole structure was alive with stardust.  The seat itself was the comfort of lambswool.  As Maharani Mitzi sat, an aura enveloped her and spread across the room.

Mitzi ruled for forty years and brought great peace and prosperity to her empire.  She was skilled in the arts of strategy and diplomacy from all her years of observation and she took a benevolent attitude to her neighbours, who never again rose against her.  She granted special trading rights to the Swangala because of their conduct on the battlefield and she and the young commander fell in love and were married, and he served as her loyal consort all the remaining years of their lives.