* * *
Yaut was already moving the instant Oppuk began his strike at Caitlin. Moving, in the way that only a great kochan fraghta can move, at a moment of clan outrage. To all those who watched, he seemed more like a predator than a Jao.
But Yaut krinnu Jithra vau Pluthrak was far more dangerous than any predator. With its power and vast associations, Pluthrak could select and shape the finest fraghta. Deadly as well as shrewd—and Jithra was a kochan famous for its savage fighting skills.
Large and powerful as he was, Oppuk had no chance at all. Nor would he, even had he been facing Yaut's charge directly. What followed would simply have taken a bit longer. Not much.
* * *
"Holy shit," hissed Tully. Even his glee at seeing Oppuk brought down was an undertone. Mostly, he was just shaken, finally seeing Yaut's full fury unleashed.
Yojimbo, for sure.
Oppuk's great Jao bones were crushed and mangled in the fraghta's hands like so many chicken wings. Each grip perfectly placed, the maximum possible leverage applied—each blow, the same. Then, a sudden and utterly vicious kneedrop to the lower spine, done while Yaut positioned Oppuk's shoulders to prevent any cushioning of the impact. Tully could hear the vertebra give way.
And I thought he gave me a hard time!
It all took but seconds. Yaut ended by seizing Oppuk's heavy nape and, one-handed, heaving the broken body back onto its knees.
Then, slapping the back of Oppuk's head to lower it and expose the neck vertebrae, Yaut half-crouched and drew a dagger from his harness.
Staring green-eyed with fury at the Narvo representatives, the fraghta bellowed: "I demand his life!"
His posture meant something too, Tully was sure, but he didn't know what. He'd never seen that posture on any Jao before.
Specifically, that is, Tully didn't know what it meant. The general idea was clear enough.
Readiness-to-dismember, let's call it. Or, how about: give-me-any-shit-and-you're-all-dead-meat?
* * *
Nikau krinnu ava Narvo did not think to argue. Oppuk's transgression of custom was so extreme that his life was forfeit the moment the first blow landed. No, the moment the blow was even launched.
Human or not, the female was in Pluthrak's service, not Narvo's—and the fact that the Pluthrak in question was now kroudh was simply irrelevant, under the circumstances.
Bad enough, that Oppuk had admitted to killing a member of his own service. But that deed, however barbarous, was a matter for Narvo to settle privately. Never—never—did the great kochan attack the service of another. They did not do so, for that matter, with the service of a minor kochan. Even a taif. That was the open road to civil war, which the Naukra existed to prevent—and the Bond would prevent even quicker. Had the Pluthrak fraghta not demanded Oppuk's life, the Bond Preceptor would have done so.
In truth, Nikau was relieved. Oppuk's unsanity—outright madness—was so obvious to all that Narvo itself could now escape with comparatively little damage from this hideous affair. They could be faulted for selecting Oppuk in the first place, and for leaving him in place, to be sure. But . . .
That could be explained away, over time. Eventually, it would be forgotten, as a clean wound leaves behind nothing worse than a scar. And, for the immediate purpose, Oppuk would serve splendidly as the focus of all outrage. At long last, the wretched creature would be of use.
Besides, Nikau thought there might be a small victory to gain here.
* * *
"Take his life," the Narvo elder stated, firmly, her own eyes green with fury. "Narvo casts him out."
Yaut grunted and began to position the dagger for the killing thrust.
"Not you!"
He looked up, puzzled. The old Narvo female was pointing toward Aille's service.
"Not you, fraghta. Since the insult was delivered upon a human, let a human in the kroudh's service take Oppuk's life. Narvo insists."
Yaut had to force himself to restrain his anger. The Narvo's ploy was obvious—and petty. She would try to gain what little satisfaction Narvo could from the situation by having a human bungle the business. Driving a blade through heavy Jao vertebra in a proper killing stroke would be difficult. A human would most likely hack away, dissolving the ritual of the moment into crude butchery.
Petty . . . and stupid.
Now, Yaut had to restrain himself from showing any humor. The Narvo elder might not be unsane, but she shared Oppuk's bigotry. There was at least one human in Aille's service, Yaut was sure, who would serve the purpose admirably.
Not Caitlin herself or Kinsey, of course. Neither of them was strong enough. Nor Kralik. He was a soldier, in the end, not a warrior. And, besides, his personal ties with Caitlin would probably make him too angry to do the deed properly.