Chapter 5: A Requiem in Arms

Rattonius knelt, immersing himself in the chilling feel of the cobblestone. Wiping his needle clean against his robe, he stripped it from his back. Mobility was essential, and regal he was even without it majestically catching the wind.

His shoulder guards dropped next. Protective, but heavy as well and reducing the reach of his claws. They fell, their clamor echoing aloud.

King Earnshaw, sharpened his claws in preparation. Leaving behind deep streaks in the rock.

"Preparing yourself to get eaten? I'll make sure to end you in one bite to repay this courtesy!"

Rattonius ignored the king's mockery. Too much was at stake to leave things up to chance. He got up, only his trusty needle in paw. Extending it forward, he made sure to internalize its reach exactly.

"A little more than my arm," he concluded before bringing it to his face and finally pointing it straight at his opponent.

"Come then, King of Beasts! Let us end this battle in a final dance!"

Spouting one final laugh, Earnshaw pounced at the serious rat, a sting to his paw informing him that telegraphed attacks will not suffice.

Extending his claws, he waved them in Rattonius' direction. The nimble rat dodging and poking at every attempt the cat made to connect with him.

Angry that even his famous double-paw stance yielded little result, the king let out a mighty roar.

"You're a feisty one, I admit! But do you truly believe you have a chance at victory? Pricking my paws will wear you out, and eventually I'll be the quicker one!"

Undeterred, Rattonius' eyes stayed pinned on his foe's arsenal. Darting between the paws, he constantly and correctly anticipated which one would move in next.

"As the wind grinds even the tallest mountain to dust, I'll be the victor of this bout. If ten thousand strikes are what is needed, then ten thousand strikes I will deliver upon you!"

Angered, Earnshaw increased the speed of his strikes and the number of feints behind them, but to no avail.

"Is... the rat winning?"

The dukes looked at Linton in concerned horror, then in surprised relief when no commanding reprimand followed. Free to speak their minds, most simply nodded.

"NYEOW!"

The lord screamed when a strike dug deep into his paw.

The rats, not wanting to distract their hero and savior, watched silently, their eyes boggling erratically with excitement.

"Enough with this prickly nonsense! Fight me like a real rat!"

Turning, a swipe of his tail disarmed the Gutter King, and with a sinister gleam in his eyes and his pupils widening, Earnshaw announced his hunting routine with a low growl, inching toward his now unarmed prey.

Soon Rattonius found himself backed into a corner, and closing his eyes, he returned to that fateful moment by the stream. Grabbing hold of that same feeling, courage ignited his heart once more.

"In desperate circumstances, the boldest plans are the safest," he concluded.

The moment of contemplation this caused in Earnshaw was as good an opening as any. Rushing at the cat king, Rattonius dodged a reflexive swipe and wasted no time burying his incisors into the one place he knew was not covered by thick fur.

The king jumped high into the air, screaming bloody murder as Rattonius' fangs buried themselves in the king's crown jewels.

Earnshaw turned into a tornado of fury, tossing, turning, jumping, falling. Anything, anything to get this fiend off his scrotum.

Rattonius, getting clobbered himself in this uncontrollable frenzy, finally released his lock when a glint caught his attention.

Heavy was the king's breath, the indescribable pain persisting and pulsing throughout his body.

"Have you... no honor? To stoop to... such low... means?"

Earnshaw was surprised when he saw Rattonius standing before him, arms stretched out as if he were planning to embrace the panting cat.

"What is the meaning of this?" Earnshaw finally gave in.

"This is my proclamation of victory. Clearly I have bested you in combat! A feat witnessed by all to see. Preserve the little honor my teeth left you with and admit defeat!"

"Admit defeat?" Earnshaw rose, blood pooling around his paws and dripping from between his hind legs.

"We are not rats. Nobles know not what defeat means. There is only one victory, and it's celebrated on a corpse!"

Furious, Earnshaw jumped at Rattonius in a final attempt to squash the annoying bug. A decision he regretted as a sharp pain ran through his chest.

Screaming, the lord fell onto his back, revealing Rattonius gallantly poised atop his chest. With a swift thrust, the rat drove the needle he had hidden with his tail past the fluff and deep toward the king's heart.

Flailing his paws, Rattonius endured the slashes until finally they subsided. Raising his bloodied weapon toward the sky, elated squeals spread throughout the alley, the cat host paralyzed by uncertainty.

Heathcliff, in tears, made his way down to be by his father's side.

"The victor is me!" Rattonius proclaimed.

"Fear and honor me, for the day has come where rat and cat unite under one—"

Rattonius was interrupted as the corpse below his feet trembled. Its last embers of life unleashing a parting inferno.

The last thing Rattonius saw was the gaping maw closing around his head.

The crashing sounds from that fateful encounter rang in his ears. The afterlife had come for the soul they were denied, and neither courage nor divinity could keep death at bay.

"Forgive me all." he whispered in a tiny voice.
"For I am not salvation, I am doom."

Rattonius' head came clean off. Lord Earnshaw smiling as he took the usurper with him to the lands beyond.

Heathcliffs cries haunted the winds as he held his fathers lifeless body in his paws. As both sides mourned the same.

"The king... is dead"