Sandor's Sunday Stories (the second one for the night, little ones)
*Blows out all candles but three*
Now, the following comes from a letter found in the dungeons of King’s Landing, written by a lord whose name escapes me. This was of course very many years before I was even born. Now, this unnamed lord was a sensitive soul, a lover of animals, always kept pets and spent most of his time with them. They made him very happy. He married young, to a woman of charming disposition, if a tad superstitious. They had birds, gold fish, a dog, rabbits, a small mokey, and a cat. The cat was remarkably large, and beautiful, completely black - a highly perceptive creature and highly perceptive. He named the cat Pluto and they were joined at the hip. For several years, the cat followed him everywhere, and they were mutually attentive to each other, but the man’s temeprament started taking a radical turn for the worse.
Daily, he became moodier, more irritable, more regardless of the feelings of others, and more violent. He treated his lady wife badly, and he began to not only neglect his animals, but abuse them. He drank excessively. And Pluto, who by now was old and grumpy himself, began to feel the brunt of the man’s ill temper. And one night when he came home in a drunken stupor, he imagined the cat was ignoring him, so he violently seized the cat who in turn, bit him in fright. So what did this lord do? He took a knife and gouged out his beloved cat’s eye!!! The cunt. Oh sorry. Young ones present…*cough*
The man wrote that he felt guilty, and the cat’s socket healed, but one day, the man took a sword to his beloved cat’s neck and ended its life. Why? Because he it had loved him. He wanted to damn his soul, so tormented was he. And on the night of that day, he awoke to find his bed curtains ablaze. He managed to get his lady wife and servants out fo the keep, but the destructon was complete, with it his wealth and the man was destitute. And when he inspected the damage, the plaster on the wall above his bed was shaped like a cat. A cat with a sword at his throat.
For months this lord’s deed haunted him, tormented him, and one day while drinking at a tavern, he came across another black cat, as large as Pluto had been, resembling him in almost every way except one: a white undefined splotch on his chest. He patted the creature, which purred loudly and followed him home, to the delight of his wife. but almost instantly, the lord found himself disliking the beast. Dislike? More a loathing. And all the while, as the man detested the animal more and more, that white splotch took shape more and more….
One night, the lord made to do the creature in with an axe, but was his lady wife caught his arm and in his evil rage, he buried the axe in her head. He then walled her up in the cellar of his keep, and waited. waited for the guards to come. And they did, some days later. They questioned him a while and asked to inspect the keep, which he triumphantly showed them. Yes, the lord was cocksure. He even led them to the cellar and banged his fist on the wall behind which the body of his lady wife was slowly rotting…..
….only to be answered by a sound not unlike that of a crying child. FROM BEHIND THE WALL!!!! The guards started undoing his wall, and to the lord’s horror, there with the corpse of his lady wife was that black beast. On on the cat’s chest, the white marking was clear. Clear as day.
*leans forward with a candle* It was the mark of an executioner’s sword.