Ursa Kane

DEDICATION

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The divorce was final in 1997. Ursa Kane was written in 1998, original titled Ruye. It sounded better than divorce therapy. It was my only story to survive the move to Cincinnati.

This book was also the key to finding my soul mate.

Thanks Lynn for convincing me to write my stories down. To the real Munchkin, love always. I hope you like the character.

I

The city sits high in the mountains, hidden by the morning mist. Serpent gates with their missing walls show the path among the clouds. A building here, a rooftop there, the rumble of a waterfall in the distance. A bridge connects what still lays hidden.

Above it all, the palace sits, made of the surrounding rock and tree. Regal, with an ornate and mysterious design. The mist never touches more than its base. By an unspoken command, its face shall never be covered. To those who search for admittance through the chaotic terrain of the mountains and the deranged puzzle that is the city, there behind decorative cedar doors the Great Bear sleeps.

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So you wish to hear the ramblings of an old woman? And a rather famous one at that. Or would that be infamous? Sit, and I will tell you everything. I am not from this place. Nor did I come down from heaven, by order of any god. Though I admit that he has been with me every step of the way. The funny thing is, I climbed this mountain to get away from everyone. To get away from the insanity. The only thing I ever wanted was to be left alone. To live in peace. That was never in my cards.

As many times as I have walked the streets of Ruye, I am still amazed at how much it has grown. It was only a small village when I first arrived. Now it is a small city, with beautiful carved gates and the beginnings of high walls. The streets are cobblestone instead of dirt. So many things have changed over the years. And I have grown old. My dark hair is now white, and my smooth pale skin has turned wrinkled and dark from the sun. But, I am not complaining. I have outlived many friends and even my husband. God rest his soul. I still have my sons and my grandchildren. It is their right to continue what started so long ago. Here I sit in my room overlooking the plaza. Kia stays with me. He sits on his perch and preens his iridescent blue feathers all day. The silly thing speaks only one word, his name and scarcely that. Kia was a gift from a villager. The person lived on Valcoona Island, to the west of here. Kia was only an egg when he first came to me, and it is surprising that he survived. But life is full of surprises as I have found out. It only takes one surprise to set your life into a spin. Where everything once held dear is ripped away, and you must build anew from less than nothing.

My name is, or rather was, Danielle Alyssa Kane. That all changed when I arrive on this island. This beautiful prison I now call home. I still remember everything. I was having a terrible time. Breakfast was horrid, the taxi late, and I missed my flight. The airline even lost half of my luggage. The half of which had my clothes in it. I kept thinking Becky would be so worried about me if I did not make it to the party, let alone the tournament. But as luck would have it, I was able to get a ride with a friend of a friend. I never thought as I stepped onto that tiny plane my life was about to change. I was more concerned with the funny looks I was receiving. My clothes were bound for who knows where, but I still had my gear. The bags contained the uniform and belt I wore that fateful day. Strange how it all happened. That uniform saved my life. Only I would know about it, for we never reached our destination in the Bahamas. I suppose it was presumed that we had gone down over the sea and perished. Just another fatality of a freak storm. That is my one regret. Never to see family or friends again. Or at the least, to let them know I lived. When that storm came upon us, I feared death. It was difficult being enclosed in such a tiny capsule as the wind and rain beat into us. The lightning was always too close for comfort. Prayer was the only thing I could turn to. I had no knowledge of planes. But I knew the pilot was scared. Even more so when the instruments went wild with a life all their own. The only other thing I remember was the pilot saying he sighted land and would head for it.

There is a blank spot in my memory after that, only darkness. That is until I saw the Scarecrow. Morgan Zayac was his name. I can look back on that day and smile now. Though, at the time, I thought I had landed in a mad house. I had opened my eyes to find myself in a strange room with murals on the ceiling and hulking furniture that served no purpose. The room was something out of an old mansion where the people threw nothing away and collected the ghastliest things. The bed was even gaudy, and the carved birds in the headboard were painted in such a way you needed sunglasses just to look at it. When I tried to get up a wave of nausea and dizziness halted me. So I stayed in bed for, I do not know how long, until someone came. I had so many questions.

II

There seems to be a gate to this world in the middle of the Atlantic. Storms are its keeper. The gate itself is fickle and one-way. We are all prisoners of this place, were the past lives once again. I shudder to think what happened here to create this place. Is this the lost Atlantis of legend or its tattered remains?

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The click of the door was the only thing that announced his presence. He made no noise when he walked into the room, to the side of the bed and set a covered tray on the table. Tall and lanky, the breeches and coat he wore made him look like he was dressed for a family wedding or masquerade ball. It also made him appear skinnier than he was. Silver threads shot through the long dark hair he kept tied back in a bow. The scarecrow wore the face of a stuffy English butler when he walked into the room, but it turned to one of sheer joy when he realized I was awake. His eyes sparkled with childish mischief, and his smile was dazzling. Even with being half hidden under that walrus mustache of his.

You’re awake. Thank goodness. I thought you’d never wake up. How are you feeling?

Like a drowned rat.

Here now, I’ve brought you something to eat. It’s just broth. I wasn’t sure if you’d feel up to having anything else.

Where am I? That was the one question which changed everything. His hazel eyes held fear as he looked over his shoulder as if expecting someone or something was watching us. When he turned back he asked in a low voice, Do you speak Spanish?

Yes.

How well?

I grew up with it. The neighbors couldn’t speak English well. Mrs. Hernandez taught me herself.

Good, good. It may save your hide, he said leaning back in visible relief.

What are you talking about?

The scarecrow took my hand in his before he spoke and sat down on the bed.

Listen to me very carefully. I know some of this, in fact all of this, will sound ludicrous. But it is true. I swear it. The plane you were on crashed not too far from here. The pilot didn’t survive. Le’on was about to have you taken to the slave quarters, but I stopped him, barely. I’m still not sure he believes me.

Slave quarters? What are you talking about? I was wondering which one of us had bumped their head.

You’ve crashed on Racqu’e Island. The east side unfortunately. Had you crashed several hundred miles to the west, you wouldn’t be in the mess you’re in right now.

Racqu’e?

Yes, you won’t find it on any map either. As far as the outside world is concerned this island and the islands near it don’t exist and never have. There is no American embassy, or British embassy, or any embassy for that matter. Right at the moment, you are about two inches from winding up in the slave quarters. And believe me, with Le’on running things, it is a living hell. If I can figure out a way to get you across the border, you’ll be safe. But the trick will be getting you there. What I need from you is information. For a start, your name.

Danielle, Danielle Kane.

Really? The scarecrow’s eyes lit up again. I can really pull some fast-talking with that. And the outfit you were wearing, what rank?

Go-Don, Fifth degree in Isshin-ryu

Fifth? You must have been in it for a while then?

Yes.

Listen, here’s what we’re going to do. First, we have to make everybody believe you are a high-ranking official. No, now just hear me out. Both of our lives are depending on you, understand? I’ll have you know I’ve laid my head on the chopping block for you. And believe me the jails around here are not pretty. Which is where I’m going to end up while you end up tied to Le’on’s bed if this doesn’t work.

He can’t do that.

The scarecrow placed his hand on my shoulder in an attempt to keep me calm.

Le’on can and he will. He was already drooling over you when they dragged you out of the plane. It took some fast talking to get you to the mansion. Thank God the master and mistress of the house are away at a party for a few days. The Cardobas are a pair of pain in the ass people, and they don’t care a whit about anybody but themselves, wealth and prestige. If you don’t believe me just wait. Keep your mouth shut and your eyes open. I am very, very serious. There is no cavalry that will come to rescue us; understand?

I hissed at him. How about the guys who wear white coats and carry the big butterfly nets?

Wishful thinking. His smile was so sad. I know what you’re going through. I went through the same thing twenty years ago. One minute, I was the entertainment on a private yacht. The next thing I know I am stuck on an island in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle. That is not supposed to happen. You would have been just a baby then.

Fifteen is hardly a baby.

Really? His bushy eyebrows rose. You look much younger. I’ll tell you what. Just to prove to you what I say is true, we’ll make up the wildest tale of who you are. Then we’ll see how gullible these people are. All right? Now, you said your name was Daniel Kane. Shall we say you are related to Quillan Con Kane, a very wealthy man of the Orient? One who has prestige, title, lands and enough money to buy the moon? Hence the strange traveling contraption we pulled you out of.

I counted the reasons on my fingers. One, there is no such person. Two, I am not Oriental. Anyone with eyes can see that. Three, I haven’t any money. And four, the moon is uninhabitable and worthless.

So what. They don’t know that. Besides, I figure we can tell them the reason you don’t look Oriental is that you take after your mother and grandmother. A duchess in Europe how about?

Why not make it the princess of Russia? The sarcasm in my voice was hard to miss, but he ignored it.

That’s even better. Wasn’t it Anastasia that was said to have escaped? Let’s say you grew up in Tibet, Shanghai, Thailand, or something.

Too far from Russia, try Tien Shan in China or Kobdo in Mongolia.

Oh, have you been there?

Nope. I had a high school teacher who was a fanatic on geography. His tests were a pain in the ass. Grumpy, I was definitely grumpy and my head was hurting.

Then Kobdo it is. Now, how did your family make its fortune?

I can’t believe I’m even considering this.

Just humor me. He was loving it.

It’s in the middle of nowhere.

So were the Indian reservations, and they landed on oil. That’s it. Gold and jewels, the mountains were flowing with them.

You’re nuts.

The scarecrow ignored me as he stretched out his hands like a two-bit movie producer. He’s second cousin to the emperor.

I take that back. You’re insane.

Here, eat some soup.

After helping me prop myself up on pillows, he handed me the bowl and spoon. Just to be a smart-ass, I threw the spoon at him and drank out of the bowl. The act only added fuel to the flame.

Good idea. Traditions would be different, and we could use that to cover our tracks. Now let’s see, what was that you said you were? Go something?

Go-Don.

Fine. That will be your title. Godon Kane, granddaughter of the illustrious Quillan Con Kane and brother to the emperor of Kobdo. How does that sound?

Like only a moron would believe this story. And I thought you said he was a second cousin?

The shrug of his shoulders preceded a response. So you’ve been promoted. Trust me. These people are indeed morons when it comes to titles. Eat. I have some tea and toast for you as well. Now remember, act like you’re wealthy and aloof. To you, the servants are just ants.

Does that include you? This time I scowled at him.

He placed his hand over his heart and stated in his stuffy butler act. I shall act as emissary. For it would not do to unwittingly insult you. Since I am the only one who knows anything about the family, I shall stay by your side at all times. After switching back to his mischievous side, he said, If you’re wondering how we can substantiate this silly story, I’ll leak it to the press. But I also have a few friends who will be delighted to verify the story.

You realize I’m just humoring you because I think you’re crazy.

Good. Just keep humoring me, and I’ll get you out of this mess as fast as I can. Believe me. I have your best interest at heart.

Why?

Why am I doing this, or why am I here?

Both.

With another smile, he said. Because I can’t resist a pretty face, and because I don’t like what these people do. Believe it or not Danielle, you’re trapped on an island in no place, or perhaps no time. These people still believe in kings and queens and arranged marriages for children at sixteen. Where women have no say, no rights, and their husbands can beat them, humiliate them, and everyone turns a blind eye. It’s even worse for those who have no title or money. If I can get you over the border, things will be different. It’s a different culture, and you will have a say in what happens to you. We just have to get you there, Ok? Now get some rest. I’ll gather some maps of the island along with clothes for you. Just remember to act arrogant while I’ll be the proper servant. Only let down your guard when you’re certain we’re alone. I’ll be back later tonight with dinner. Oh and don’t forget. Speak only Spanish.

With that, he poured me a cup of tea and left the room. I sat there for the longest time thinking. The only thing I could come up with that made any sense was that I was near, or on, Cuba. If half of what he said was true. All that took a backseat when the tea and soup took its toll. To get up out of bed was difficult and slow going. I did not get far when I spotted the chamber pot sticking out from under the bed. When I took into consideration how horrible I felt, had no idea where the bathroom was and was not too sure about making it to a toilet. I figured I’d have to tell the Scarecrow and apologize. When I crawled back into bed, I made a mental list of questions I needed to ask. The first thing was his name.

When he came in again, I’d been dozing. This time he had three young women in tow. All had dark complexions and wore long old-fashioned dresses and caps. The three women kept their eyes downcast and curtsied when they came into the room. One woman replaced the old tray on the table next to the bed with a new one she carried and left the room. The other two appeared to have a robe and a basket of something. The Scarecrow held a roll of paper, and he sat them on a nearby table. Before speaking, he bowed and clasped his hands together. His mannerisms were stiff and the Spanish dialect odd, but I could follow what he was saying. The women were there to take my measurements to make suitable attire. He would wait outside until they finished to answer any questions I might have. After I acknowledged him, he left as quietly as he had come, but I had a feeling he was listening at the door.

The two women helped me up from the bed and began their work. The younger tried to engage me in conversation but her chattering speech was too hard to follow, so I remained silent. When I didn’t answer one of her questions, she looked me square in the face as if she was about to say something nasty. But she looked away and remained silent through the rest of the sitting. I realized I must have been scowling. It’s a habit I have when I am tired or unwell. The girl must have thought I disapproved of her actions. Things seemed to go quicker after that. They both hurried from the room after leaving me sitting in a chair with the robe wrapped around me. There was no way I was returning to the bed.

The Scarecrow came back in and closed the door behind him. When he turned to me, he grinned. I don’t know what you did, but I have never seen Marie cowed like that. I thought she was going to pry everything she could out of you.

I tend to look mean when I’m tired. Besides, it was irritating not being able to understand half of what she was saying. It would have helped if she slowed down.

True enough. He chuckled as he picked up the paper roll from the table. I have a map for you.

I took the map from him and unrolled it. The map was hand drawn and painted showing the main roads and cities. The west side of the map though was almost empty as if it was a huge wasteland.

Only half of the map’s finished.

That’s because everything west of the border is considered wilderness and only savages live there. At least that is what the government tells the people. The border is four hundred miles as the crow flies, and it’s almost all mountain. So it makes it a difficult journey to cross by land. By sea, is a different story. It was then I realized he had a habit of talking with his hands when he was not in butler mode.

So who lives there?

People more inclined to think like us.

You’re being evasive.

He pointed as he talked and concentrated on the map. The pirates slash merchants live on the far island here. It’s volcanic, but there are a few settlements.

What’s your name?

Excuse me? he asked looking mystified.

Your name. You know mine, but I don’t know yours.

With a smile and a slight bow, he said, Morgan Zayac. At your service. Though I suggest you only call me Morgan. I’m just a servant remember.

Liar.

Don’t call me on it yet, my dear. We are not out of the woods. Study the map. You may need it. I also brought you a newspaper. I don’t suppose it would be too much to ask if you can read Spanish.

Yes, it is, I said.

Oh well. As soon as you’re up and feeling better, I’ll show you around a bit. Then everything will really start sinking in. By the way. Would you object to wearing a corset?

That’s like asking me if I liked being stretched out on the rack.

Thought so. Those twinkling eyes never seemed to dim. Don’t worry. I will take care of your wardrobe. Something suitable for a Godon.

Excuse me, but where’s the bathroom?

Chamber pots. There should be one under the bed. Sorry, no running water.

You’re kidding me.

Nope. You might consider yourself void of any and all modern conveniences.

With a sigh, I looked around the room. I don’t suppose you could clear out some of this garbage so I have a place to work out?

I’ll have it done immediately. And I’ll even bring up your gear. I managed to rescue that too before Le’on got a hold of it.

Thanks.

Don’t mention it.

After that, Morgan read the newspaper to me, front to back. Which really wasn’t much, but much of what I understood I found ridiculously funny. Politics was never my strong point. Fashion I couldn’t care less about and that went double for theirs. The entertainment which was not gossip was interesting. I spent a lot of time asking Morgan questions and found him a fountain of information on who was who. But I also found it disconcerting that his story never wavered and kept consistent all the way through.

The next day, I woke to find several men in my