Book V: Chapter 8 | Invocatio

In what was once the arena, where the large towers and chutes loomed over and the stands surrounded the grounds, all of the cat people had gathered.
At the center stood Alexander and Barbara, as representatives of House Pliny and House Pampanianos. Next to them knelt the Queen of the cats. The elaborate crown she once wore was no longer on her head—Barbara and Alexander held it between them.

First Yoki, the twice captive, spoke, she wore the long robe with wide sleeves traditional to the Priesthoods of Tacissius.

“We will begin the proceedings by first invoking the favor of Necoccan!.”

The Pirate Queen, looks up and prepares to stand before Alexander orders her to remain.

“This is no longer your duty.”

“What do you mean this is no longer my duty, I am Psycho Nana, I am the beloved of…”

“The religious duties and obligations fall to the protector of the city. As its conquerors, that is us.”

Barbara explained slowly as if speaking to a child.

From the crowd to the stand, emerges Olivia, wrapped in the silken green robes of the priesthood.

With Haughty defiance she places on her head the wool and leather Felidae ears attached to a bronze headband. Her nose painted black with lamp black with whiskers painted on her face.

The former queen was aghast.

The crowd howled and hissed. The new conscripted Felinid guards tried to enforce order, but they themselves looked uneasy.

“You can’t be serious! He won’t accept anyone. This is an insult to him and his memory.”

“Isn’t that for him to decide?” Barbara asked.

“Taccissi Ne? Uxor Necoccanae.” “Necone Non Necare Hostis Nobis.”

Olivia dances while swaying her hips back and forth.

“Necone nec necatus mihi, nec nequitia nequities nomenatis.”

She opens the bottle of the alcohol and pours it before the great Icon of Tacissius and Necoccana. Before stepping away

There is a period of silence. The Cat people looked on almost pleading for some divine spark of wrath. Some clear disfavor. There was nothing.

“Now to see if the gods have accepted it.”

Olivia places some fish next to a small cage. Then opening the cage 3 cats come out, and begin devouring the fish.

“Sunderre, priestess of Tacissius and Necoccanna, speak, have the gods prohibited these hungry cats from feasting.”

“They have not commander.”

“Are the cats eating happily Sunderre?”

“Yes, commander, they are eating happily, the gods are pleased.”

Olivia speaks back in a loud voice, proclaiming to the crowds.

“The Gods have accepted our sacrifice, we shall continue with the treaty.”

Barbara and Alexander took turns reading the agreement.
The cat queen answered each clause:
“I will do this on behalf of my people, nya. Yes, I agree, nya.”
“Will you agree to join our city in our wars?”
“Yes, I will agree to this, nya.”
“Do you agree to allow our Romans to protect your city from within the walls?”
“Yes, I agree to this, nyaaaa.”
“Do you permit a quarter to be constructed within the city, into which only those Citizens of Plinia have may enter?”
“Yes, I agree to this, neeya.”

From the distance, Galle and her men watched—somewhere between impressed and amused.
Her old mentor, Kuga, scratched the grey and black hair head behind his ears. “Look at the faces of the crowd, wan. They’re looking at their queen like she’s being undressed in front of them, gururu.”
Galle nodded, “Humiliation in dignity, wan.”

It was all very formal, but essentially they forced her to beg for her own position back.
“They don’t think this will work, do they, kun?” Kuga muttered.

In the distance, Barbara and Alexander turned to the crowd, Alexander speaking in Latin, Barbara translating to Common.

“The Queen has accepted our terms, and now she will offer sacrifice to our gods. To the Genius of Pliny.”

Olivia and Titus wheeled out a large Mural covered with a sheet to be placed eventually in the town square. They pulled back the cloth.

There was the shrouded image of Pliny the Elder, wearing the Toga Praetexta with purple stripe. But the image itself mimicked the style of their own deity: Large head, large circular eyes, nose absent, mouth made into a small frown. The figures' tiny arms held up in the same gesture of blessing as seen on Necoccan.

Barbara stifles a laugh at the grotesque image, then dutifully pours wine into a bowl, and gives it to the cat queen.

The Queen takes the bowl looks at it, sees her humiliated reflection in the wine dark liquid.

“In case you were thinking of doing some thing silly. You are now in the midst of a sacred act, and our people take desecration very seriously.”

Barbara’s condescending gaze met the pirate queen who looked up to her in impotent anger.

“If this is too difficult for you, we understand, and can find someone else to do it.”

Barbara gave a warm smile, which only highlighted the scratches given to her across her face.

The Queen abandons her useless rage.

“I-ne offer this to The Genius-gya of Pliny-sempai. May he-ne protect Pliny-sempai, as sempai protects us-nyaa.”

She pours the liquid into the sand and bursts into tears.

Alexander and Barbara place the crown on the weeping figure.

“Ecce Regina!” “Behold Your Queen!”

The trumpets and drums of the Band drowns out the gasps and jeers of the crowd.

Once the queen offered sacrifice and poured wine for the Roman gods, Barbara and Alexander placed the crown back on her head and allowed her to stand.

The other elves in attendance shouted, “Pro Plinia! Pro Pampaniani! Pro Federati!”
The cat crowd, unsure what to do, applauded along with them. A band played.

The Cat Queen bowed her head. “I… I am restored, nyaaaa. But this crown feels heavier than before, nya.”

Galle shook her head and walked out of the arena, gu.
She went outside and saw Pliny and Pampanianos directing carts of loot. Some were carried by donkeys and horses, but others—disturbingly—by blemmyes, manipulated through methods now well-practiced.

“Pampanianos, a word with you, please, gururu.”
Both Pliny and Pampanianos stopped.

“So you didn’t even bother to attend your own coronation ceremony, gau! You finally have your first ally, and you can’t even be bothered to show up to her submission, wan?”
Pampanianos smiled. “Not showing up was the point. It was deliberate.”
“You deliberately snubbed her, kun?”
“Yes. I don’t question the way you manage your tribe. Don’t question how we manage ours.”
“I am questioning it, gururu! At least from my eyes—and I’ve had fair experience with my father running tribes—you’re being naïve with this city, wan.”

Pliny was amused. “Oh? Do tell.”
“You can’t seriously think this humiliation will endear her to you, kun? The hatred I saw in her face was immense. She’ll rebel at the first chance, gururu. She won’t thank you for the crown. So why did you do it, kun?”

Pompanianus laughed. “We’re not surprised if she revolts. We’re counting on it.”
“You’re counting on it, kun?”
“Simple. She barely has control of her people. She owes tribute. She needs us to hold her throne, and she’ll need us to crush her rebels. Over time, she might recover—but by then, cats in our armies will be loyal to us, not her. Her city will be weaker still, drained by tribute. If she revolts, we’ll replace her with someone more amenable. There are plenty of pirates eager for her role.”

Galle was surprised. “I thought you were being generous and virtuous, kyan. Clearly you’re just insane, gau. But… whatever the case, thank you for helping me back there, wan. I don’t know what came over me, but I appreciate your offer.”

Pompanianus nodded. “There’s no shame in despair under those circumstances—only in acting on it. You’re an admirable warrior. You inspire loyalty in your tribe. That’s valuable. Our offer still stands: if you wish to join our federation, or live among us in the city, you may.”

Galle crossed her arms, tail flicking. “Thanks, wan. But I don’t think you’d like me as one of your federation allies, gururu. I’m not like cats. Our tribes aren’t lapdogs. We bite our friends as much as our enemies, if it helps them, gau.”

Pliny laughed. “Look at that—you’ve found yourself a philosopher. The Cynic of Galle, true daughter of Diogenes!”
“I have no idea who that is or what you’re talking about, gu. But anyway—I can’t take up your offer. I’ve nowhere to go. I was expected to bring sacred kelp back. Now that you run the city, can I hope your generosity extends to us, kun? Can I purchase some kelp, nya?”

“Yes,” Pampanianos said. “How much?”
“Fifty pounds, wan.”

Pampanianos stopped one of the carts, filled with dried kelp. He lifted down a crate.
“Each of these holds about fifty pounds. Take four—two hundred pounds. Bring them back to your tribe, in triumph, with the compliments of House Pampanianos and House Plinia.”

The Cat Queen lowered her eyes. “So much kelp, sha… yet none of it truly mine, nyaaaa.”

Galle’s heart skipped. Excited, she still asked, “Weaponized generosity, wan. What’s the catch, kun? We’re in no position to help you, ku. We fight our own wars. My father needs this kelp as a good omen for battles against the ants.”

Gale watched them leave before looking at the treasure they left behind.