Vyktorea didn't know what to think when the hunters returned with a restrained and heavily guarded Jellicle chief who winked when he saw her. "What's this?" she cried. "How did you ever manage to capture Ma-uh-unkustrap?"
"It was pretty simple," Grumbuskin grinned. "Macavity had him nicely distracted and I snared him with my bola."
"You caught Munkustrap?" Moya exclaimed as she approached, almost at the same time that Groultyghur burst out, "You finally got the Jellicle chief!"
By now a good portion of the Tyghurss tribe, along with most of the kittens, had gathered to see the imprisoned Jellicle. Macavity could barely contain his relief at seeing them all again. But he wasn't in the clear yet. This was driven home to him when Lydis came up to sniff him and was snatched away by Morghen, her father.
"Is that Munkustrap?" asked a dubious Peder. "The fierce Jellicle chief? He doesn't look so big and fierce to me."
In response, Macavity snarled and bared his teeth at the impertinent kitten, who gasped and scurried back to his mother, Morghasa. Macavity was rewarded with a cuff from the Coricat who wore his body.
"Enough already," Munkustrap snarled impatiently. "While the feast is being prepared, someone can go tell the Jellicles that we have their chief and if they want him back alive they should follow our instructions. The rest of us will decide on a ransom."
"Who are you going to send to the Jellicle settlement, Macavity?" Groultyghur asked, an eager glint in his eye.
Munkustrap hesitated. He wasn't exactly sure who was the best cat for the job, but he knew that it wasn't Groultyghur.
Grumbuskin! Macavity said urgently. Send Grumbuskin. And Morghen should go with him.
"Grumbuskin and Morghen will go," Munkustrap answered.
You should send some proof-- Macavity began, but his brother had already thought of that.
"The Jellicles will probably want proof that we actually do have their chief," Munkustrap commented. He reached for Macavity's throat and the grey and black cat instinctively drew back. But Munkustrap only snapped the black and silver collar from around his neck and handed it to Morghen. "This should do; it has his scent on it. Give it to his mate and tell her that if she wants to see him alive she will meet our demands."
Munkustrap shuddered inwardly at the thought of the heartache that this would cause his darling Demeetar, but what else could he do? The two brothers nodded and were gone, then he was left with his prisoner and the rest of the Tyghurss watching him.
"So what are we going to do with him in the meantime, Mac?" Moya wanted to know.
Take me back to your home. Macavity instructed. Say that there are some things you want to ask me.
"I want to question the Jellicle first," Munkustrap said quickly. "Then we can decide on the ransom. I will talk with him alone," he added when Moya moved as if to follow them.
Moya was a little surprised, but nodded and watched them go. Macavity sometimes worked in strange ways. No doubt he was brewing up a plan already.
"Where is Munkustrap?" Demeetar demanded when the Jellicle hunters returned without her mate.
"I don't know," Alahnso answered, looking perturbed as well as worried. "I know he was with us when we ambushed that last ghatsa herd, but nobody remembers seeing him after that."
"He's probably injured somewhere, unable to call out," Cazondra said calmly, though her eyes betrayed her concern. "We should get a search party together and look for him."
"Don't you think we already did that?" Plaetoh snapped irritably. "We couldn't find him!"
"We searched the area thoroughly," Admeetus added, placing a gently restraining paw on Plaetoh's shoulder. "If he was hurt and thrown by a ghatsa, surely we would have found him nearby."
"He might have been knocked senseless," Cazondra pointed out, "and when he came to, wandered off half-witted."
"Oh, my poor Munkustrap!" Demeetar cried. "We have to find him!"
"Perhaps we should consult with Old Dutironomy first," Alahnso suggested uncertainly. "We have to tell him anyway."
"Tell me what?" the Old Wise One queried as he approached the anxious group with Grizabella at his side.
Alahnso bowed his head to the old cat and explained the situation. Dutironomy frowned and exchanged a glance with Grizabella, but didn't appear overly concerned.
"Cazondra thinks that he might be wandering around with half his senses," Alahnso finished. "But even so, I feel sure we would have seen him in our search."
Dutironomy shook his head, "No, I don't think Munkustrap was hurt or even killed on the hunt…"
"Oh, I pray that he wasn't killed!" moaned Demeetar, who was being comforted by her two sisters.
"No," Dutironomy continued gravely, "I think Macavity and the Tyghurss may have had a paw in his disappearance."
"Oh no!" Demeetar wailed, and the others made similar noises of distress.
"But why do you suspect the Tyghurss?" Bombalurina asked curiously.
"Why not?" Rhimara grumbled. "They're usually up to no good."
"It's just a…" Dutironomy glanced again at Grizabella who looked away, "…a feeling that I have."
"The Jellicles nodded. They knew better than to question Old Dutironomy's feelings.
"So what are we going to do?" Alahnso wanted to know.
As if on cue, two male cats appeared out of the underbrush and approached them. One was large, about the size of Admeetus, with long, sandy-colored fur. The other was a little smaller, white with lilac-grey stripes. We know them as Grumbuskin and Morghen. The Jellicles just recognized them as enemy Tyghurss and reacted accordingly.
"Do not attack!" Dutironomy boomed as the hunters all tensed, growling and hissing. "Let's hear what they have to say first."
Reluctantly, the hunters obeyed, but they formed a protective cluster around Dutironomy and the other Jellicles.
"Thank you, Old Wise One," Morghen bowed his head slightly, then scanned the group. "Which one of you is the chief Munkustrap's mate?"
"That would be me," Demeetar said a little nervously as she took a step forward. Bombalurina and Rhimara moved up behind her, watching the two intruders warily.
"This is for you," Morghen said, and held out something shiny.
Ignoring her sisters' protests, Demeetar took the object from him and gasped when she recognized it. It was a leather collar, dyed black and studded with a few decorative bits of silver. She held it to her nose and sure enough, it carried the scent of the Coricat she loved. "This is Munkustrap's collar," she said weakly. "Where is he? What have you done with him?"
"Nothing yet," Grumbuskin growled. "But that will change if you don't meet our demands."
"What demands?" Alahnso, Plaetoh, and Admeetus snarled in unison.
"Our chief Macavity is at this moment deciding on an appropriate exchange for the return of your chief," Morghen told them. "We'll come back later with his choice." And he and his brother turned to leave.
"You sons of rats!" Plaetoh exploded. "I'll show you what you can do with your demands!"
He might have attacked the retreating Tyghurss but for Demeetar, who with a wordless cry, threw her arms around her son's waist and hung on for dear life. Then Vyktorea grabbed him on one side and Tughar on the other. Grumbuskin sneered over his shoulder before continuing on. Morghen didn't even slow.
"I would've torn them both apart if you'd have let me!" Plaetoh complained angrily when they were gone.
"What good would that have done your father?" Admeetus asked calmly.
Plaetoh had no answer for that and so asked, "Well, what are we going to do, then?"
"I suppose we will have to wait," Dutironomy said solemnly, "and see what demands Macavity comes up with."
"It should be interesting," Grizabella said under her breath.
©1999 Delilah