Banner nodded, letting Kusac’s hand go and sitting back. He could understand that the decision wasn’t an easy one after what he’d been through. “And the proof there has actually been a coup?”
“I did read him, and if you scroll through the reader, you’ll find a broadcast by K’hedduk from the Prime world proclaiming himself Emperor. In it you’ll see he had two of the Brotherhood Ambassadorial guards killed and skinned. Their pelts are lying at the foot of his throne.”
Banner closed his eyes briefly, then pushed his sadness at the deaths of two of their own aside. When K’oish’ik was retaken, then they could all mourn them. “Does Kezule know you can remove the marker?”
“He doesn’t. I thought it better considering his paranoia about telepaths. That’s between me and Zayshul anyway, and he agreed to that.”
“We need to speak to the rest of the crew.”
“Then you’ll back me?”
He hesitated. Kusac had changed, and he wasn’t thinking of the stark physical changes since he’d been shot. He’d always seemed slightly alien, but that had been because of his upbringing as a Telepath and his Link to Carrie. Now, there was something else about him, something that had more in common with Kezule than anything either Human or Sholan—even down to the way he’d gone into a healing coma like the Valtegans did.
“You don’t trust me, do you?” said Kusac. “I can’t say I blame you, considering how much of the truth I kept from you.”
“Don’t ask me that now, Kusac. From the start, I haven’t agreed with what we’ve been doing for Kezule,” admitted Banner. “You’ve yet to convince me that we aren’t removing K’hedduk to replace him with a worse Emperor—Kezule.”
“He doesn’t want the throne. Prince Zsurtul is still on Shola, he says. He wants to put him back on the throne but reform the whole setup—make it a monarchy, not an Empire, and stop the City being walled off from the ordinary people. Ch’almuth is willing to form an alliance with K’oish’ik and let many of their people emigrate there so the world can be rebuilt in return for protection from the M’zullian raids. They’re more advanced and populated than the M’zullians know, but they can’t defend themselves adequately.”
“I’ll believe it, when I see it,” Banner said dryly. “Just so you know, we were on the point of drugging you and removing you and Shaidan from here by force, except you came barreling up to the hydro level with that gun.”
“And you were building weapons against my express orders,” Kusac said, without rancor. “There’s been wrong on both sides, mainly mine, I admit, but the safety of my son was at stake, Banner. We need to deal with the real situation on K’oish’ik, not squabble like cubs among ourselves.”
“True, but you’ll need to earn my trust back, Kusac. You kept one hell of a lot from me, including the fact you’d regained your Talent. You killed the guard that shot you, didn’t you? And messed with Dzaou’s mind. What have you done to mine?”
“My abilities have been returning in fits and starts. The guard was a matter of instinct, I did it to survive. No one was supposed to get shot. I don’t have a rogue Talent, Banner. Look at the provocation I’ve had from Dzaou yet all I did was make him forget his plans to use the nitrate compound to make explosives.”
“What did you do to my mind?” Banner repeated more forcefully, now convinced Kusac had done something to him.
Kusac’s gaze didn’t waver as he said, “On the way here, you worked out that my Talent was returning. I needed to hide that from Kezule so I had to make you forget it, that’s all.” He hesitated a moment. “And I blurred my appearance slightly when I was with Shaidan so none of you could see the resemblance between us.”
Banner searched Kusac’s face, nodding slowly. “I don’t think you’re a rogue, but your abilities are frightening. Just how did you heal yourself as fast as a Valtegan Warrior?”
“I’d tell you if I understood it myself. It may be something to do with the marker, or when Annuur and Kzizysus operated on me. They said they’d had to establish new connections in my brain because the implant had damaged the natural ones beyond repair.”
“I didn’t know that.”
Kusac smiled wryly. “Few people do. Only my family, because we didn’t know if it would be a success. Banner, I swear neither you nor my crew have any reason to fear my abilities.” He reached out, his fingertips briefly touching Banner’s jawline. “I told you there would be no more lies. I meant it.”
He appreciated the gesture, knowing that by doing it, Kusac was apologizing for the past and showing a willingness to reestablish their friendship. Right now, though, he wasn’t sure he could handle that.
“You’ve made a good start, Kusac,” he said, getting to his feet. “Just make sure you keep it up. We’d better go and talk to the others. They’re in the mess having second meal. You’re going to have to deal with Dzaou. He got so bad while you were in sick bay that when Kezule gave us our knives back, I withheld his.”
“I intend to. As soon as we’re joined by any Sholan unit, I want him shipped out of here. Until then, let’s all try to keep him under control,” said Kusac as he rose to his feet.
When they reached the mess, it was almost empty because the next shift had begun. Kusac did notice that among the four Primes present were two Security staff—Zhalmo and a male he didn’t recognize. He assumed it was one of Kezule’s sons who’d been off-world when the coup had happened.
Jayza greeted him warmly as they joined them at the table. He noticed the youth did a fair job of hiding the shock he felt at his altered appearance. He had no illusions about how thin he’d become, nor the state of his pelt. A shower was one of the first things on his agenda, if they were staying. Khadui’s greeting was more reserved, and Dzaou’s sullen glare was what he’d expected.
He briefed them on the situation, passing the reader round for them to see, and waited for their response.
“You’ve sold us out to Kezule just to get your son back,” said Dzaou angrily, almost throwing the reader back at him. “At least now maybe the others can see you for what you are, a traitor!”
“Dzaou!” said Jayza sharply, glancing at Shaidan as the cub moved closer to Kusac.
“How can you ignore the facts?” demanded Dzaou, pointing at Kusac. “Look at him! He’s wearing Kezule’s collar! He’s not free, none of us are! It’s just another of his damned lies!”
Banner looked at him and frowned. He knew the other had just realized he was still wearing the collar.
“Kezule’s paranoid about telepaths,” he said. “When we captured him, Carrie had to force a mental contact with him to get the information we needed. He’s never forgotten that because to him then, females, especially pregnant ones, were feral. If you want to leave now, you can. Shaidan and I will remain, though, and contact Haven for reinforcements.”
Dzaou laughed mirthlessly. “I can just see Kezule taking you to a comm unit to speak to Haven! I’ve been reading up on the Valtegans. We were their slaves, nothing more. That may be a psi damping collar, but it’s also a slave collar!” He looked from Banner to Khadui. “Don’t listen to him, he’s nothing more than Kezule’s pet, and his wife’s! Look at what he’s wearing if you don’t believe me!”
All eyes turned to look at him, taking in the earring, the beaded bracelet he still wore that Shaidan had made for him, his braided hair, and the psi damping collar round his neck. Acutely aware of his son’s distress and fear over the mixed emotions around him, he looked over to Jayza.
“Jayza, will you take Shaidan to Security?” he asked. “This is no place for him right now and they have psi dampers there.”
“Sure,” said the youth, getting up. “Come with me, Shaidan.”
As Jayza passed him, Dzaou grabbed for his belt knife, pulling it free and pushing him aside as he leaped back from the table.
Fear raced through him, fueling his system into alertness. Grasping his son, he threw himself backward off the bench, rolling into the clear space by the servi
ng counter and coming up in a crouch beside Zhalmo and her companion.
“Take him,” he said, thrusting his son into her arms as she jumped to her feet. “Get him out of here! You,” he said, pointing at her colleagues, “Stay out of this! It’s a Sholan matter!”
Clutching the yowling and screaming cub, she ran for the exit as Kusac kept his eyes on the slowly advancing Dzaou. Anger at the fact he should have seen this coming was pushed aside as he glanced over to Banner and Khadui. They were on their feet now, circling Dzaou, trying to come between them. This time it couldn’t be solved by letting them defuse the situation. He had to deal with it now as a Brotherhood Officer and a Warrior Leader.
“Have you done mouthing off at me now, Dzaou?” he said mockingly. “Finally got up the courage to put your words into actions and Challenge me? Or are you just going to attack me when I’m unarmed?”
“Since they haven’t the backbone to do it, yes!” he snarled. “With that collar on you, you can’t mess with my mind again. The Blood Rite Challenge, Kusac! To the death, just as I promised you! Without you, Kezule can’t succeed.”
A commotion to his left made Kusac risk a glance at the counter in time to see Kezule come running out of the kitchen and stop dead on the serving side.
“Contain him,” the General ordered his people as Kusac, senses now fully extended, caught a flicker of movement from Dzaou.
“Challenge accepted,” he said. “Keep out of this, Kezule. This has been brewing between us for a long time.”
“Dammit, you can’t fight him, you’re still injured,” said Kezule angrily. “You’ve not even got a weapon!”
“I’ll manage,” he said. Looking directly at Banner, he sent him a mental request to borrow his knife, knowing he’d be able to pick him up.
Banner blinked, his jaw dropping slightly open as he automatically reached for his belt knife. Realizing what he was doing, he hesitated.
“None of that matters in this Challenge,” smiled Dzaou, crouching down and shifting his knife from hand to hand. “That’s the point of it. He’s a traitor to Shola and deserves to die!”
Kezule lifted the countertop and took a step into the mess.
“You can’t interfere,” said Khadui sharply. “It’s a legally issued Challenge!”
“Challenges to telepaths are illegal,” said Banner.
“He’s not a telepath when he’s wearing that collar,” sneered Dzaou, keeping an eye on them while still advancing slowly on Kusac.
He almost missed seeing Banner’s knife come spinning through the air toward him as his Second finally committed himself. Only the fact that it seemed to be traveling at half the normal speed meant he could reach up effortlessly to catch it.
Flicking his ears in thanks, he crouched down, extending his tail for balance and flexing his injured leg, wincing when the bandage pressed on the wound and cut into his expanded thigh muscles. The analgesic was wearing off now. Ghidd’ah hadn’t expected him to be doing much walking, never mind fighting a Challenge.
“Move the tables out of the way,” ordered Banner, dragging at one of the benches. “Give them space to fight.”
“Do it,” Kezule ordered his people, moving toward the nearest table.
Dzaou glanced round at them, then rushed at Kusac, hoping to take him off guard.
He was ready, and sidestepped him, neatly blocking the other’s knife arm hard with his own. Dzaou staggered back in slow motion, shaking his arm slightly to get the feeling back into it. His altered sense of time still seemed strange and confusing and he hesitated instead of following through. Not just that, but he was getting an echo of the pain he’d caused the other. Pushing it aside, when Dzaou turned on him again, he backed off, stumbling slightly as his full weight was taken by his injured leg.
It gave Dzaou the opening he wanted and darting forward, he slashed at Kusac’s knife arm, just grazing the surface.
The shock jolted him back to reality. He wasn’t mobile enough for this, and Dzaou knew it. This had to end quickly, one way or the other. Strengthening his shielding while still allowing his passive senses their maximum range, he waited for him to make another slash. This time, when Dzaou pulled back, he flung himself at the older male, knocking him to the floor, using his weight to pin him down while trying to grasp hold of the other’s arms.
Dzaou was now heavier and fitter than him, and Kusac was hard pressed to remain on top as he thrashed from side to side, arching his body up off the floor in an effort to throw him off. His injured thigh took several blows against the floor, making him cry out in pain. Flexing his claws out, he sank them deep into Dzaou’s arm and shoulder, managing to hold on, but he had to drop Banner’s knife. Meanwhile, Dzaou was trying to force his own knife arm up and stab at his unprotected back.
Snarling his pain and anger, Kusac lowered his head, trying to sink his teeth into Dzaou’s neck, but he’d dropped his chin to protect it. Snapping at his face to distract him, he bit down hard on Dzaou’s right shoulder, shaking his head from side to side, causing the flesh to rip.
Dzaou yowled in agony, redoubling his efforts to throw him off. Claws raked their way down his side, but he ignored them because Dzaou had lifted his chin! Opening his jaws, he pulled them free of his shoulder then sank his canines deep into the exposed throat. A sudden sharp pain high in his side almost made him let go, but he ignored it and bit even harder. When Dzaou’s blood spurted hot and metallic to the back of his throat, making him gag, he knew it was all but over. As Dzaou’s body began to convulse under him, surreptitiously he reached for the knife still in his side and pulling it free, let it fall unnoticed beside the dying male.
He let go, spitting out blood as he retracted his claws and weakly pushed himself into a sitting position. Beneath him, Dzaou’s struggles were getting weaker and he was making rasping sounds as he fought for breath. He sat back, legs still straddling his enemy, his senses swimming with pain and fatigue. There was one more thing he had to do. He was not leaving Dzaou to die by drowning in his own blood. He’d seen Kaid kill Ghezu that way, but he could afford to be more merciful.
Dzaou glared up at him, the hate and malice undimmed even now as blood sprayed from his neck and bubbled out of his mouth. With shaking hands, he pushed Dzaou’s flailing arms aside and taking hold of his head and chin, gave a sharp twist. The crack of his neck breaking echoed through the room. Reaction set in, and his strength spent, he collapsed on top of Dzaou’s lifeless body.
Banner reached him first. Carefully he was eased off Dzaou and helped to sit up. He had to bite back a hiss of pain as they pulled his wounded side. Dzaou’s knife had penetrated almost to the hilt, but he was keeping that to himself for now. A wet towel was thrust at him and with trembling hands, he made an effort to wipe the blood off his face and mouth. He could see Kezule, his face almost white with shock, crouched in front of him, and knew the Valtegan was reliving the moment when his throat had almost been between his jaws.
“Sorry about the mess,” he mumbled, trying to keep his breathing shallow as pain stabbed through his chest with every breath. He attempted to wipe his hands on the now carmine rag, hampered by Banner trying to inspect the shallow slash on his forearm.
On some deep level, he was aware that part of his mind was assessing the damage he’d taken and attempting to deal with it.
“Forget it,” said Kezule, taking the towel from him and handing him another damp one. “Were you injured? We can’t tell. You’re covered in blood.”
“He would be,” said Khadui, holding a drinking bowl of water up for him. “He bit clean through Dzaou’s carotid. Personally, I’d have let him drown in it.”
He drank, grateful to get the taste of blood from his mouth, even if it meant swallowing some of it.
The shaking had almost stopped now as he accepted another towel and wiped his face and neck again. He couldn’t leave here covered in gore—if his son saw him ... He shuddered at the thought. Blood had got underneath the metal collar and was sticking it uncom
fortably to his pelt. Reaching up, he pressed his fingers into the recesses and giving a small mental push, he keyed it open, then thrust it at Kezule.
“It was never any use once I knew it was there,” he said to the startled Valtegan. “I shut it down in the punishment booth. You can give me my torc back now.”
“Your son has it,” said Kezule, taking it from him, for once looking at a loss.
“Gods! It looks like a slaughterhouse!” he heard Zayshul exclaim in shock moments before she pushed Kezule and Banner aside and crouched down beside him. “You had no right to let him do this,” she said angrily, looking up at them briefly. “And you’re a fool, Kusac! You’ve been injured, again! Let me see to those wounds right now!”
“Not here. I’ll go to the sick bay. Can you help me up?” he asked Banner. “Your knife, I had to drop it. Should be beside Dzaou.”
“I’ll find it,” said Banner, taking hold of his arm as Zayshul moved back to allow Khadui to take the other. “It was a good kill, if a little messy.”
He grunted as he struggled to his feet. As well as the wound in his side, he hurt everywhere. “I should have done it sooner. Which reminds me.” He pulled himself free of Banner, looking around the room, seeing the other three Primes starting to pick up the scattered furniture. There was one last thing he had to do, one last debt to settle while Kezule’s people and his own were here to see it. “Kezule.”
“What?” asked the General, turning to look at him.
Kusac punched him hard on the jaw, sending the Valtegan reeling backward into a table.
“That’s for sending the Ch’almuthian female to my room. Now the past between us is over,” he said with satisfaction as Kezule staggered to his feet, rubbing at his cut and bruised mouth.
He felt the commandos instantly tense and move toward him but Kezule stopped them with a gesture. “Agreed,” he said, glancing at the smear of blood on his hand before accepting the almost clean towel Khadui held out to him.
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