Munkustrap, at least, didn't have any in season females to deal with. Moya wasn't due for another month, Vyktorea informed him, and Gritelboen was only just fully matured. He danced with both of them after the feasting that night, confident that by the time they started making sexual advances, he would no longer be the object of their desire.
When he tired of dancing, he made a great show of passing Gritelboen off to Groultyghur before sitting down beside Bilbaely, Vyktorea, and Aughustas, the healer's handsome, brindled brown mate.
"I'm glad to see you recovering so well from your accident, Macavity," Aughustas said, butting the ginger chief in the shoulder. "The tribe runs more smoothly with you in charge."
"Well, Moya does a good enough job, I think," Munkustrap said uncomfortably.
"Not as good as you, though," Bilbaely countered. "And Groultyghur is always making trouble for her because he doesn't respect her as well as he respects you. Or hadn't you noticed?"
"Actually, I hadn't noticed him respecting me all that much either," Munkustrap said tightly.
"You're his older brother, Mac," Bilbaely pointed out. "He may not like to admit it, but he does respect you a little. Moya, on the other hand…"
"Are you approaching a point?" Munkustrap asked uneasily.
Bilbaely shrugged. "I suppose my ultimate point is that you need to be figuring out who your successor will be," he said. "And some of us are wondering when you're going to choose a mate."
"What business is that of yours?" Munkustrap burst out, thinking this a very personal topic.
Aughustas gasped in surprise and Bilbaely bristled, and Munkustrap felt his stomach turn to stone when Vyktorea winced and said, He's the Old Wise One.
Oh no, he thought, I've done it now.
Don't worry. Vyktorea continued. Macavity is very touchy on this subject so that outburst wasn't really out of character. Just don't back down!
"I know you prefer to ignore it, Macavity," Bilbaely said stiffly, "but the fact remains that you are the oldest unmated male in the tribe. If you weren't our chief, I wouldn't be so concerned, but since you are…"
"Have you ever thought that I might be waiting for the right female?" Munkustrap said through his teeth.
"Are you expecting the Everlasting Cat to send her down from the sky?" Bilbaely asked in exasperation.
"Perhaps he has his eye on one from the Jellicle tribe," Aughustas cut in quickly.
Munkustrap did his best to look defiantly at Bilbaely, though it sickened him to think that this was probably true. The Old Wise One started to say something, but was cut off by Vyktorea.
"I wish you'd leave the Jellicles alone," the calico Coricat burst out suddenly. The three males stared at her in astonishment. "The tribe is small enough without you whittling away at it."
"Darling, I thought you had broken all ties with your old tribe," Aughustas said quietly.
"I still have two sons there," Vyktorea muttered bitterly, "and one of them was just a little kitten when I was…brought here."
"Tell us which ones they are," Bilbaely offered, "and maybe we can bring them to you."
"No, you leave them where they are!" Vyktorea snapped, tears starting to form in her eyes. "Why can't you stop fighting the Jellicles and live at peace with them? Do any of you even know why the Tyghurss and the Jellicles are enemies in the first place?"
The three males were spared from answering when there suddenly came an anguished scream from the dancing ground. They all jerked around and saw that the cry had come from Groultyghur; the one-eyed Coricat was struggling with Moya, who had a death grip on his ear with her teeth.
"Geteroff, geteroff, geteroff!" he yowled as he kicked and clawed at her repeatedly.
This, at least, is pretty clear cut as to what I should do, Munkustrap thought, sprinting over to the fracas. Morghen was already there, trying in vain to get a strong hold on his mate.
Throwing caution and concern for his personal safety to the winds, Munkustrap threw his arms around Groultyghur's waist and yelled, "Stop it, both of you!"
"Moya, let go!" Morghen urged.
Finally they were able to pull the two apart with a terrible howl of pain from Groultyghur. They made a grisly spectacle, with blood running from several places, not all of it their own.
Moya spat out a mouthful of blood and fur and glared at her opponent. She had deep scratches all down the front of her body and she leaned on Morghen for support. "Beast!" she hissed.
"Wretch!" Groultyghur shot back. There were deep claw marks on his shoulders and hips and blood trickled down into his blind eye from his ravaged ear. He strained against Munkustrap's grip and snarled, "You interfering, treacherous, greedy slut!"
"Useless good-for-nothing," Moya spat.
With a yell of rage, Groultyghur momentarily broke free from his brother's hold and launched himself at the Siamese-colored female. Morghen pulled her back in a protective embrace, but Munkustrap had already re-restrained the furious male, pinching him in the sensitive area at the base of the neck to keep him subdued.
"That's enough!" Munkustrap snapped. "I want to know what started this." He glared first at Moya, then at Groultyghur as they both spoke up at once in their defense. He silenced them with a wave of his paw. "No, not a word from either of you. Who saw what happened?"
"I did," Grizelda said meekly.
"I did, too," piped Peder.
Between these two older kittens, Munkustrap got a pretty good idea of what had happened. Apparently Gritelboen had been trying to make Groultyghur jealous and started flirting with Demeetre, a white male with black stripes who was Moya's younger brother. Her attempt was successful, of course, and the volatile Coricat had attacked the anticipated opponent for his lady's affection. Moya, seeing her brother being harassed by her long-time rival, immediately leaped to his defense, with predictable results.
"Let go, let go!" Groultyghur hissed as the kittens finished their story. He scrabbled frantically at Munkustrap's paw on his neck.
"Are you going to behave now?" Munkustrap inquired, allowing his claws to prick the younger male's skin.
"Ow! Yes, I will! Now let me go!"
Munkustrap released him and gave him a little push. Groultyghur turned and hissed at him, then glared balefully at Gritelboen, who was still unconcernedly snuggling up to Demeetre.
Munkustrap sighed and rubbed his temples. "All right, all right," he said tiredly. "Vyktorea, take them and get them fixed up. I'll deal with them in the morning."
Vyktorea nodded and together with Tobit and Aughustas, escorted the injured fighters back to her home. As Munkustrap watched them go, he felt a tug at his paw and looked down into Lydis' lilac-grey face.
"M-Macavity," she stammered, "will Mama be okay?"
It took him a second to realize that she must be referring to Moya. "Don't worry, little one," Munkustrap said comfortingly, stroking the kitten's head. "Your mama is tough. This will hardly set her back."
"B-but…aren't you going to punish her?" Lydis asked, her yellow-green eyes wide.
"Ah, well, I…" Munkustrap faltered, wishing Vyktorea were still there.
Bilbaely then jumped in. "I think she and Groultyghur have punished each other with the injuries they caused."
"Well, I don't know…" Munkustrap said uncertainly, feeling that at least some kind of restitution should be made.
"Anyway, they probably won't be able to hunt tomorrow," Bilbaely pointed out, "so I hope you can, Macavity."
"I think so," Munkustrap nodded.
There was an uncomfortable silence. Well, not entirely silent. The caslikohs were still crooning a moody melody.
Finally, Morghasa spoke up. "Well, Groultyghur has managed to spoil the mood yet again," she complained. "I suppose we might as well go home."
There was a general mumbled agreement and the Tyghurss went their separate ways. As Munkustrap returned to the home of the Tyghurss chief, he wondered if Macavity was having half the troubles that he was.
©1999 Delilah