If we may think of the mind as a landscape, with all its possibilities of form and tone encompassed in the scope of nature, from the ancient forests of wild oak that border our northern shores at Kiyikoy, to the ordered genius of our rose gardens here at Topkapi Palace, and in this scope wonder of the different characters we would like to meet, fancying perhaps a light riverside country stroll, or a saunter in sunset city streets, we would understand through opposition how miserable a cat Longshanks now was by beholding the prospect of a barren land, carpeted in broken tree trunks, roots and stumps, the carcass of a forest smouldering in the dank fog, lifeless except for shadows of fleeing animals and dying plants.
The alley cats were not lying when they said Longshanks had lost his mind. The benevolent structure of the average cat brain had been tipped, the pressure had ground away his bearings, his senses had revolted and left the body with a spinning mess of doubt and fear to drag around the rooftops of Istanbul.
After his last meeting with Mr Respectable, in which he had accused Mr Caring of treason but failed to prove his point, Longshanks had taken a turn for the worse. His confidence plummeted. His appetite disappeared. He was haunted by the uncertainty of what would happen next. He was sure there would be something. He knew that Mr Respectable would have his revenge, but it was not until he saw two ladies of the rooftop holding a small slip of paper, and on seeing him then hide it quickly and walk away, that he realised how difficult his position now was.
The awful part about it was that he just had no way of knowing who knew what. Who had seen the photo? How many cats from his tribe? How many from the other tribes? Did anyone doubt its contents? Was there no one that assumed him innocent?
At first he had not wanted to think about it. After all, he had only seen them holding a slip of paper, he did not know that it was the slip of paper, he had not been able to see what was on it. If there was any possibility that the photo was not out then he couldn't take the risk of checking. How would he bring it up without describing that thing which he desperately wanted to hide?
As the day passed however he grew more certain. He replayed the reaction of the two ladies in his mind, he studied their faces, and in them he saw suspicion. If it was the case that the photo had been seen then he would have to do something. He would have to confront his fears and explain to the lords and ladies of Istanbul that he was innocent. But oh then how he cursed himself for having not told a soul about it before. He should have done it immediately. He might have cleared the whole thing up on the very first day and how different his life would have been at this moment. And how to do it now? No one would believe him, he was sure of it.
In the evening he was yet further dismayed when a captain of his knights cancelled the meeting they had planned. He received a message instead, saying that the rooftop knights had been summoned to an emergency conference by Lord Wellington.
Longshanks then waited for the end, sat on the edge of a rooftop overlooking the sea.
It was there that the four cats of the moment found him.
'We have news!' Mr Caring cried behind him.
Longshanks turned to see the four cats approaching across the rooftop. Had his guard deserted him entirely?
'You'll be delighted to know Longshanks that the wedding is back on. We found Izabel earlier today in the palace, hiding in the chambers of the human princess. She was quite upset as you can imagine after everything she's been through but now she is resting, and we have her consent, the wedding is scheduled for one week from now.'
Longshanks looked at them blankly. Why did they have to taunt him so?
'More news' said Mr Respectable, 'which I think you'll enjoy almost as much as we did. After you accused us of treason we decided that we had to do something, had to make some effort to save our names. Quite quickly, we decided that we had to be the ones to stop Izmir, Ahmet and Fatma. Who then could deny our commitment to stability in this society? So, there you have it…'
He turned and nodded to Mr Security, who from behind his back brought out in one paw the bundle of Ahmet and the rucksack of Fatma, and in the other brought out the severed head of Izmir. He tossed them contemptuously on the floor in front of Longshanks.
'The aspiring traitors have been thwarted,' continued Mr Respectable, 'my compliments to Mr Security as always. Now, the only slight issue we have is that Izmir did manage to unite the three treasures of the cats before we were able to get to him. We took them off him, don't worry about that, but as the unification of the treasures was the condition of the prophecy, we might have an issue. The prophecy Mr Ordinary.'
Mr Ordinary passed Mr Respectable a scroll.
Mr Respectable read:
'In times of deepest, darkest strife,
A cat from the East, from Izmir become,
A hero to form, and for his wife,
Three treasures unites, from enemies won,
To bring down the walls, to lift the streets,
To help the poor, to raise the weak,
A true hero will come to save the cats,
From two evil kings with one evil pact.'
'Now what do we have to say about that Longshanks?' he asked.
'Mr Respectable must you?' retorted Mr Caring, 'The implication is entirely obvious.'
'Yes but we want to hear him say it' said Mr Ordinary.
Mr Security guffawed.
Longshanks scowled at the four cats of the moment. In truth, he was a little confused. He was so upset that his brain was functioning only very poorly.
'Oh put him out of his misery' cried Mr Caring. 'I can't bear to see such suffering!'
Mr Respectable narrowed his eyes and looked down on Longshanks with utter scorn.
'I want to hear you say that I am the saviour of the cats' he said.
Anger cut through the fog in Longshanks' mind.
'I will kill you Respectable' he said.
'No' said Mr Respectable, 'you won't. But I will tell you what is going to happen. Tonight you will be deposed by your own guard. Tomorrow night, the gutters will rise against the rooftops. You will watch as they destroy the order you have staked your life to. In your place, they will choose me as ruler of the world. My marriage to Izabel will enshrine my supremacy. The sacred bloodline of cat kings will pass through my loins. My kittens will build a civilisation that lasts a thousand years.'
The other three cats of the moment clapped.
Longshanks staggered to his feet.
'Never… I will never allow it…'
Finally he had reached the moment where his enemy had declared himself, but he could not say that he was any less confused than before. All of this nonsense about the prophecy made him feel ill.
'How will you stop us?' asked Mr Ordinary. 'You don't seriously suppose that you can turn everything around now do you?'
Longshanks departed, stumbling. He just had to get away from these awful alley cats. Somehow though he would stop them, he swore it.