“Sire! Rapsari to our north, eight-squared…”
“Sire! We need reinforcement…”
A flash in mind space, lumbering rapsari in wedge formation, closing in on the prides who held the perimeters. They were built like raiders but quadrupedal and bigger, much bigger. They made these to kill tuskvor. In that instant he realized how long the Tzaatz had been anticipating his attack. They have kept their own secrets well. In the vision the wedge slammed into his perimeter guard like an in-falling comet, fangs slicing tuskvor flesh, and then a Tzaatz screamed and leapt and he nearly died as he pulled his variable sword in line to block the blow.
“Ztrak Pride! To me, defensive circle now!” He screamed the command, and blocked again as the Ftz'yeer swung overhand. His warriors responded, and he anticipated another attack, feinted low and then sliced his opponent's belly open when he fell for it. There was no time to celebrate the victory — two more Tzaatz leapt to attack him. He parried one and dodged the second, and then had to fall back to the forming defensive circle. The sthondat extract aids my anticipation. He felt another attacker closing from the flank, pivot turned and cut him in half almost without effort, and then he was in the circle. Something popped and he ducked in time to avoid a monofilament net that flew over his head to entangle the czrav warrior beside him. He turned and hooked his slicewire into the mesh and brought it up, ripping the net open, but the distraction left him vulnerable, and the Tzaatz he had just blocked whipped his slicewire up and under Pouncer's sword arm. Pouncer leapt vertically and the slicewire cut empty air instead of amputating his arm from the armpit up. He swung as he came down and decapitated the Tzaatz from above, spinning in midair to gut the second one even as he screamed and leapt. Victory, for a heartbeat, but more netguns were firing and the tight defensive circle of czrav was disintegrating. A mind flash showed tuskvor in lakes of blood, his support prides fighting for their lives as the Tzaatz cut the Citadel off with eights and eight-squareds of rapsari.
We will live or die in the next moments. The czrav beside him went down and he slipped sideways and brought his slicewire up to gut the Ftz'yeer who'd overextended himself to gain the kill. These Ftz'yeer are too good. In the raiding campaign he had grown used to the low standard of battle discipline in the Tzaatz rank and file, but Ftzaal-Tzaatz's elite were as good as any czrav, and here with the advantage of surprise and numbers they were going to win. His defensive circle was starting to collapse under the pressure. More netguns popped, and he risked a glance backward to see a quarter of his force struggling under the monofilament mesh. They mean to take us alive. That was bad, that meant the Ceremonial Death…
No time to consider it. He stepped forward, feinted, blocked and slashed downward, and a Tzaatz fell at his feet gushing blood. They will not take me alive… He stepped back again. The defensive circle was getting smaller. His death of honor would come soon. Flashes of pain and fear struck him in mind space. His force was being slaughtered. The Tzaatz had laid their trap well. But I can save what I can. The prides outside the Citadel walls could escape, if they could disengage from the rapsari. It would be a shameful retreat, but the shame would be his, and he would not have to endure it long. His warriors would survive, with their honor intact. Sometimes honor demands that we accept shame. He keyed his vocom to give the order.
“Ftz'yeer! Hold!” The voice rose over the din of battle, and Pouncer looked up, surprised. The kzin who gave the order was standing by the high-arched entrance to the main hall, broad shouldered in red-and-gold armor. The circle of Tzaatz drew back, and Pouncer looked around the antechamber. He had a pitiful pawful of warriors left, standing back-to-back and watching warily for any renewal of attack. They were outnumbered four-to-one at least, the outcome of the battle, this part of it anyway, was in little doubt. Why did they stop? He reached out with mind awareness but sensed only the presence of his enemies.
“Zree-Rrit-First-Son-of-Meerz-Rrit, show yourself.” The Tzaatz leader's eyes searched the circle, searching. “An honor truce has been commanded.”
Honor truce? Why? He stepped forward. “I am Zree-Rrit.”
The Tzaatz made the gesture-of-respect-to-an-enemy. “I am Ftz'yeer Leader. Come with me.”
Warily, Pouncer followed him into the Great Hall, his warriors coming after him. Could it be a trap, even with the Pride-Patriarchs watching? It seemed unlikely; the Tzaatz had victory within their grasp without the need for trickery. Inside the vaulted chamber he understood the reason for the sudden truce. C'mell was there, her four-sword deployed to guard a small group of kzinti in noble's robes.
“Look what I have caught for you, Zree-Rrit.” C'mell's tail stood straight with pride and pleasure as she met his eye. She made the gesture of mate-fealty and pointed. In the center of the ring of slicewires was Kchula-Tzaatz. There were others at the front of the hall, Zraa-Churrt and the Pride-Patriarchs he had asked to come bear witness to the traditions, his traitorous brother Scrral-Rrit — and Rrit-Conserver! No, he is Kzin-Conserver now. He resisted the urge to greet his old mentor. There will be time for that later. He looked to C'mell and returned the gesture. She must have infiltrated her small force into the Great Hall and taken the Tzaatz leader by surprise. She has forced Kchula to the truce and saved us all. There were sporadic sounds of battle from outside the hall, but they quickly faded. Skalazaal was over. Now it was time for skatosh.
The Pride-Patriarchs were watching, and Kzin-Conserver himself. I must be true to the finest point of honor. He stepped forward, drawing his variable sword, waving C'mell's warriors out of the way so he could stand before his enemy face to face. “Kchula-Tzaatz. For the death of my father, for the usurpation of my birthright, for the dishonor you have brought this house and the Patriarchy, I challenge you to single combat.” Fear in Kchula's mind. His mind-awareness was increasing again; it seemed to come and recede in gradually diminishing waves. Pouncer dropped into attack crouch. He is old and fat. I will finish this here. He shot a glance at Scrral-Rrit. And I will deal with my traitorous brother later.
There was a commotion at the entrance to the hall, a wedge of Ftz'yeer entered, and a black-furred kzin. Ftzaal-Tzaatz dismissed his bodyguard and drew his variable sword. “I stand for my brother.” The black killer stepped forward, extending the slicewire of his variable sword. “Leap if you dare, Rrit.”
Pouncer had turned to face the newcomer, and he screamed and leapt, his own slicewire blurring around to catch Ftzaal before he could take a defensive stance, but Ftzaal turned sideways and brought his blade up and blocked the blow effortlessly. Pouncer fell back before Ftzaal could counterstrike, but Ftzaal followed, delivering a swift left-right combination that Pouncer wasn't ready for, nearly breaking his guard. Pouncer flexed his knees to bring his center of gravity lower and present a smaller target, hiding behind his own blade as though it were a sapling. There was a split second while Ftzaal flowed into a lower stance to match him, and in that instant Pouncer kicked out with his forward leg, hoping to connect with his opponent's knee and break it. Ftzaal was ready though, and pivoted slightly, catching Pouncer's heel with his own and hooking it forward. Pouncer sprawled to the ground. I've been trapped. Even as he had that awareness he was rolling to get out of the way of the killing blow he knew was coming. Ftzaal's blade came down a handsbreath from his head. Pouncer knocked it clear and rolled again, flipping back to his feet, and the pair faced each other, eyes locked. I have the mind gift, what is he thinking? But Ftzaal's awareness was muted to his mind sense even this close, and Pouncer couldn't see enough to give warning of the Black Priest's next move. The black fur gene is at work.