"Do you cry 'enough'?" growled the Thane into Fritti's neck fur. Fritti was trying to catch his breath long enough to surrender when suddenly the jaws were gone from his neck and an ear-deafening yowl was echoing through the clearing.
Tailchaser rolled weakly onto his back in time to see Quiverciaw-leaping and twisting like a demon-cat-batting with his paws at Pouncequick. The kitten was hanging on grimly, needle-sharp kitten-teeth sunk to the gums in Quiverclaw's shiny black tail.
Finally able to dislodge the young cat, the Thane slid to the ground in pain and exhaustion less than a jump from where Fritti lay. Quiverciaw licked his wounded tail and stared reproachfully at Pouncequick, who haughtily returned the look.
The other cats surrounded Pouncequick, growling angrily, but Quiverciaw caught his breath long enough to wave them off, saying: "No, no, leave him alone. His protector fought bravely-and he, too, is courageous enough for his age. Not too wise in his choice of enemies, perhaps… well, no matter. Let him be."
Seeing Pouncequick safe, Tailchaser rolled onto his back with his paws in the air. First he saw myriad tiny spots floating above his eyes, and then for a time he saw nothing at all…
When he awoke, Fritti found that Pouncequick had become the center of attention.
The group of strange cats were huddled around him with expressions of surprise and amusement on their faces. Pouncequick was apparently telling them about Eatbugs; Tailchaser saw Quiverciaw laughing as Pouncequick attempted to duplicate one of Eatbugs' capering leaps.
Drawing himself quietly up into a sitting position, Fritti surveyed the cluster of strange cats. They seemed friendly enough, now-they had certainly put Pouncequick at ease-but Tailchaser was not so quick to trust. Who were they?
It was obvious that Quiverciaw was the leader. Even laughing, lolling on the ground, he had a look of controlled power and command. Beside him sat a fat, grizzled old torn, orange-and-black body striped like summer lightning, his stomach flattened against the ground between his stocky legs.
On the Thane's farther side were two more cats: one gray, one patched in black and white. Neither was as large as Quiverciaw, or the old tiger-stripe, but they were lean and well-muscled, with the quiet look about them of successful hunters.
The fifth cat, crouching along outside the perimeter of Pouncequick's audience, was very different. Seeing him, Fritti went cold all over.
The fifth cat was white as ice-thin, too; as slender as a birchtree branch-but this was not what disturbed Tailchaser.
He had strange, frightening eyes: milky-blue, and larger than any cat's eyes that Fritti had ever seen. Tailchaser remembered Pouncequick's story. For a moment he wondered if they were in some sort of cruel, slow trap.
But no… Pouncequick had told him of terrifying eyes, but Pounce must have seen this white cat.
Look at him, thought Fritti. If those were the eyes that frightened him, would Pounce be cutting capers for them? And not a red claw among them…
As Fritti looked from paw to paw, Pouncequick finally noticed him and called cheerily: "Tailchaser! Are you all right? Hangbelly said you would be. I'm just telling the First-walkers about our adventures!"
"So I see." Fritti walked forward to join the group. No one stirred to make room for him except Pounce-quick, so he squeezed in beside his small friend. Quiverciaw looked over to him with snake-slit eyes, but bobbed his head in affable greeting.
"Well met, Tailchaser. Did you have good dreaming?" he asked.
"I did not dream," Fritti replied. He gave Pounce-quick an affectionate nudge.
"Well now, well now…" said large Hangbelly, shifting his huge paunch to look Fritti over. "Here's the young warrior. You fought right well, nestling. How old do you be? Seen six Eyes, have you?"
"I shall have my ninth Eye in a few more sun-turns." He looked at the ground, embarrassed. "I am small for my age."
There was a moment of awkward silence, broken by the soft rasp of Quiverclaw's voice.
"No matter. Courage counts no Eyes. There is precious little enough, without we fail to acknowledge it. You answered the challenge, and fought as the Old Laws command."
Tailchaser felt he did not quite understand. "I didn't believe I had much of a choice." Hangbelly laughed at this, and Quiverclaw's lips curled in amusement.
"You always have a choice, laddie-kit," said Hang-belly, and the others bobbed assent. "Every day you have a choice, and if you want to, you can lie down in your fur and die anytime. But a First-walker never does y'see? And we respect your choice, too."
"I was protecting my friend."
"Very fair, very fair…" said Quiverclaw. "By the way, I would be doing a disservice to everyone if I did not offer face names. You and I have met through challenge, but my hunt-brothers are strange to you. Hangbelly you have spoken with." Hangbelly bared his teeth teasingly.
"This is Bobweave." A nod from the gray as he and Fritti sniffed at one another. "The fine, amusingly spotted cat-whom the Squeakers do not find at all laughable-" the black-and-white torn inclined his mottled head-"is Scuffledig. And the proud fellow who sits by himself is Eyeshimmer." The white cat turned and made the tiniest inclination of the ears toward Fritti, who took it as a greeting and returned a nod.
Scuffledig piped up, "When he isn't being mystical, he's been known to catch a vole or two himself."
"He is our Oel-var'iz. Eyeshimmer is Far-senser to the First-walkers." Pride was in Quiverclaw's voice, and respect. Fritti was impressed. What an unusual cat Eyeshimmer must be, to earn such regard from a natural leader like Quiverclaw!
"I am afraid that I am only Tailchaser," he said quietly. "I am not particularly special-and, I am afraid, rather on the small side… as I mentioned."
Hangbelly leaned over and nudged him with his broad head. "Here, then, nothing wrong with being small. Our Lord Firefoot was the smallest of the First!"
"Speaking of the First-with all respect-" said Tailchaser, "may I ask why you are called the First-walkers?"
"Ah, yes, there are many things that you young cats do not know," said Quiverclaw.
"And do you always hunt in a… pack, like this?" Fritti asked.
"Well…" began the black cat.
Pouncequick eagerly chimed in, "And what can Eyeshimmer do?"
Bobweave yawned enormously, then said in a disgusted tone: "They certainly are good with questions. I'm going to go kill some breakfast." He bounded lithely away.
Quiverclaw watched him go, then turned back to Tailchaser.
"Bobweave is not patient-but he has other qualities that more than compensate. I will try to answer some of your questions."
Hangbelly snorted behind him.
"The First-walkers," Quiverclaw began, after darting a glance at the hulking torn, "are the last pure line of those Folk who ran with our own Lord Firefoot in the days of the First. My blood ancestor, Lungeclaw, served him during the time of Prince Blueback.
"We are sworn to a paw-and-heart oath to guard that heritage. The days of valorous combat and oath-bonds and truth will never completely die, as long as the First-walkers survive." Quiverclaw looked solemnly at Tailchaser and Pouncequick. "If the Rules and Commands are not obeyed, life becomes scrabble and scrape; without dignity. We First-walkers keep the laws of the First, and give them life. It is not always easy… many whose blood runs true cannot live with our discipline."
The black head turned slowly past the assembly, then faced away into the forest. "Our numbers have dwindled," Quiverclaw said.
"And smaller still will those numbers shrink," said a delicate, high-pitched voice. Quiverclaw and the rest turned to look at Eyeshimmer, who still crouched some distance away.
"So you have said. So you have said," rasped the Thane wearily.