Meerz-Rrit waved away his crouching obeisance. “Stkaa-Emissary, welcome to my home.”
Stkaa-Emissary studied Meerz-Rrit carefully. The Patriarch comes without guards, without retainers. Does this mean I have his trust, or is he simply that confident? The Patriarch was tall and very fit. The handle of his variable sword was well worn, its scabbard made for ease of use and not ostentation. His belt held no more than a pawful of ears. He does not need to duel often, Emissary decided, but when he does he wins.
“Clean kill I trust, Patriarch?”
There were half a dozen ornate prrstet in the room, set around a low obsidian table polished to a mirror gloss. Meerz-Rrit hopped on to one and reclined, inviting his guest into another with an open paw.
“Clean kill, Emissary. It was a satisfying one, a prime zitragor.” Four Kdatlyno filed into the room, carrying the still warm kill on a large platter, now cut into thick slices and seasoned. A pair of pointed skeceri blades skewered the meat so it could be handled and cut without bloodying the paws.
Stkaa-Emissary jumped up and settled himself carefully. “It is an honor to share it with you, Patriarch.” He began carefully, pausing to spear a section of haunch with his skeceri and tear at it, savoring the juices and spice. It was prime indeed, like nothing he had ever tasted on W'kkai.
“I trust you find your chambers comfortable.” Meerz-Rrit was solicitous, polite to a fault.
“The House of Victory is both spacious and lavish.”
“And your colleagues are congenial, I trust.”
“It is an honor to meet the leaders of the Great Prides, and fascinating to see how our species has adapted to life among the stars. There are more ways to be kzinti than I ever imagined.” He paused before getting down to business. “My goal here is simple, Patriarch. As you know, Stkaa Pride has borne the brunt of the campaign against the monkeys.”
“With honor, if not success.” The Patriarch beckoned to the Whrloo, which picked up a decanter and two flagons from the servitorb and buzzed to the table with them. “This is shasca.”
“Thank you, Patriarch.” Emissary lifted his flagon and sipped; the rich blending of fresh blood and fermented berry was exquisite on his palate. “It is excellent.” I am evolved for this world, he thought, and drank more deeply before continuing. “The kz'eerkti present us a unique problem. Not only have we been unable to conquer them, but we have lost entire worlds to their counterattacks. Now our base on Ch'Aakin has fallen, and W'kkai itself is suffering grievously under human embargo. Even this we retain only because they have not chosen to take it.”
“Hrrrr. In the time of my thrice-grandsire they besieged Kzinhome itself. Their forbearance is surprising.”
“It is not mercy that stops them.” Emissary paused for emphasis, drank again from the flagon. “The situation is not acceptable, not for Stkaa Pride, not for the Patriarchy, not for our species. We must finally subjugate them.”
“A worthy goal, and one I am surprised Stkaa Pride has not already accomplished.” Stkaa-Emissary flattened his ears at the implied criticism. “What will you ask of Rrit Pride in this regard?” Meerz-Rrit speared a hunk of zitragor haunch and wolfed it down.
“The humans represent a threat such as our species has never experienced before. I believe they now pose a threat not only to Stkaa Pride but to the entire Patriarchy. When the Great Pride Circle meets I intend to ask for the participation of all the Great Prides in an extended campaign to eliminate the monkey menace permanently.” Stkaa-Emissary made the open-pawed gesture of deference. “With your support, Patriarch, I am sure we will get it.”
“And your dispute with the Cvail Pride?”
“Cvail Pride presents a problem. Chmee-Cvail hopes to strangle us in order to gain for himself what we have lost.”
“With some considerable success, I understand.”
“Unfortunately true, Patriarch. A key factor in the loss of Ch'Aakin was our difficulty in moving supplies due to the intransigence of Cvail Pride.”
Meerz-Rrit turned a paw over in contemplation. “So perhaps Rrit Pride should throw itself behind Cvail Pride. Their success is a measure of a prowess that perhaps you lack.”
“No!” Emissary's ears snapped up and forward. “Patriarch, this is no longer a matter of gaining strakh enough for a world or a fleet. Great Pride rivalry weakens us, and we are in grave danger. This is a matter of species survival.”
“The monkeys possess only a pawful of worlds. Your pride's inability to defeat them speaks poorly of you, and now you inflate their prowess to excuse your incompetence.” Meerz-Rrit fixed his gaze on Emissary. We shall see how he defends himself.
“It is not the number of worlds that counts, Patriarch, but the number of sentients. Their homeworld numbers thrice-eight-to-the-eight-and-three individuals. Thrice-eight-to-the-eight-and-three! Their military potential is tremendous and their savagery unimaginable.”
“Savagery.” Meerz-Rrit flipped his tail dismissively. “How much ferocity does an herbivore need to catch a root?”
“As herbivores they do not understand the dangers of unrestrained aggression. These creatures do not fight wars like any other species. They fight without regard for spoils, they do not try to capture slaves, possess no concept of honor. They give no thought to the use of the land they acquire and thus use conversion weapons without restraint. Their single focus is the annihilation of their enemy, of us. They destroy utterly what they cannot possess, even what they simply do not care to possess.”
“Surely you exaggerate.”
“I wish I did, Patriarch. On Hssin they ruptured the domes from space; slaves and warriors alike drowned in their own blood. It was not a battle, not a conquest, just honorless slaughter; they did not even bother to scour the ruins for booty. It was the same on Ch'Aakin. I was there, and few enough of us escaped with our lives.”
“So you say. And yet time and again they have failed to follow up on their initial success. If they were as fearsome as you claim we would long ago be their slave race.”
“As herbivores they do not understand the folly of leaving wounded quarry alive. Believe me when I speak of their ferocity. They have no interest in slaves or booty. What does the tuskvor want with meat? But when the hunter draws close the herd will charge and trample all before it, not for gain but for safety.”
“Yet surely leading the entire Patriarchy in hunt-conquest cannot fail to enhance the strakh of Stkaa Pride at the expense of Cvail Pride.” Meerz-Rrit narrowed his eyes. “Perhaps even at my own expense.”
“Strakh is no use to slaves, or to the dead. When we met the kz'eerkti we enjoyed tremendous advantages in technology and space warfare experience. We failed to conquer them. Each new attempt has been better organized and better equipped, and yet now we lose ground. Their technology has become fully the equal of our own.”
“It is not technology that wins wars, it is the courage of the warriors.”
“Only where the combatants meet with honor, Patriarch. The way the monkeys wage war, only raw industrial strength counts. Already on their few worlds they match the entire Patriarchy. They never duel among themselves, so nothing slows their growth rate but lack of space, and they are content, even eager, to crowd closer than a basketful of kits.”
“Hrrr. I have seen the images.” Not that I have quite believed them. Emissary had too much status to lie, but Meerz-Rrit had no doubt he was presenting the truth to his pride's best advantage.