Клэр Белл - The Named - The Complete Series

Ratha narrowed her eyes at the pack. She sensed that the herders among them did not seem as vengeful as the Firekeepers; in fact the latter had to bully the herders into sullen complacency.

“There is the one who murdered our leader and teacher! Tear out her throat!” cried a Firekeeper and he clawed a herder, who flinched and growled, “Yes, tear out her throat!”

“Let her taste the same meat she gives to others!” cried someone else among the herders.

“Ptahh!” Ratha spat back. “You herders know the meat he gave you. He dragged away your beasts to glut himself and those who served him while leaving you nothing. Why do you howl for him?”

“He gave us power and strength,” roared one. “He gave us the dance in the cave,” howled another.

“The dance,” said Ratha. “And was that dance ever for herders? Were the ones who worked to feed the Firekeepers ever allowed to come before the cave-fire to feast and share in the celebration?”

The herders exchanged looks with each other, despite the Firekeepers’ prodding. “No,” muttered one. “They said our coats were too dirty and that we must watch from a distance and be grateful that the Red Tongue would even permit us in the cave.”

Other mutterings broke out, and Ratha could hear more complaints being spoken against Shongshar’s attitude toward those who tended the clan’s animals.

“I’m glad Shongshar’s dead,” roared someone else, and with a start Ratha recognized Cherfan’s voice. “I’m tired of crouching to those singe-whiskered fools and hearing that we herders aren’t worthy to approach the Red Tongue.”

Heads turned among the herders and more voices joined Cherfan’s until they broke from the rest of the clan and crowded around Ratha. Cherfan faced the Firekeepers and bellowed, “All right, now we’ll see how brave you are in a fair fight!”

But Ratha could see that the Firekeepers still held the advantage. Although there were more herders in the meadow, Cherfan had no way of summoning their help without forcing a confrontation. And whether the sides were matched or not did not matter to Ratha. This battle would cost the clan heavily in lives no matter who won.

“If she wins, she will forbid us to crouch before the fire creature or offer ourselves in the dance,” she heard one Firekeeper growl to another. Muttering spread among them and one yowled, “Attack now! She has killed the fire-creature in the cave. She will keep the Red Tongue from rising again.”

“No!” cried Ratha, turning to face him. “You are wrong!”

Even Thakur and Fessran stared at her in astonishment as she waved her tail for silence.“Hear me, Firekeepers,” she said. “I understand your wish to crouch and dance before the Red Tongue. I once thought that was wrong and should be stopped, but I know better now. I killed the cave-fire because it was being misused.” She paused, looking into their eyes. “Tell me yourselves. Was it right to look down upon the herders and take their beasts when your bellies were already bloated? Or to keep them from the cave unless they brought you meat?”

Several Firekeepers lowered their heads and stared down at their paws.“No,” Ratha continued. “Shongshar did wrong by making you believe that serving the fire-creature made you more deserving than the rest. He used your belief to make you do fierce and cruel things you would not have done. That is why he died.”

A Firekeeper raised his head.“Then you will allow us to honor the Red Tongue as well as use it to guard the herds?”

“Yes. I have said nothing against honoring the fire-creature itself. Listen. This is what I will do. We will enlarge one of the old fire-lairs to make an earth-cave in the meadow where the source-fire may be kept. There dry wood can be stored and the fire will be safe from rain. It will be guarded, but anyone, Firekeeper or herder, may enter for warmth, and they may crouch and lower their whiskers before the fire, if they wish.”

“I don’t think that’s enough,” growled another Firekeeper, glaring at Ratha. “Shongshar allowed only us to approach Red Tongue and crouch before it. The herders should tend their dapplebacks.”

Yowls and hisses rose from the herders and the fur on their napes began to lift. Ratha feared that she might not be able to avert a fight.

“Listen to me, both of you. I brought the Red Tongue to the clan for all to share. The Firekeepers were created so that their skills could benefit the rest of us. Herders, the Firekeepers need you as much as you need them. Neither of you can survive without the skill of the others. If you follow me, I will see that both herders and Firekeepers share the fire-creature in a way that is good for both.”

Again mutters broke out from the Firekeepers. The one who had challenged Ratha tried to speak again, but was silenced by his companions. She waited until the Firekeepers had stopped scuffling and speaking among themselves.“Clan leader,” the first one said, “most of us think that what you have suggested is wise. But we need our own leader. We would like Fessran to return to us.”

“I think that can be done,” said Ratha as she turned to her friend and said in a lower voice, “Now that you know the pitfalls along this path, I can trust you to tread it with care.”

A few Firekeepers separated themselves from their companions and glared at Ratha.“I still don’t like it,” complained the same one who had objected before. “You think that Shongshar was wrong to take meat from the herders and give it to us? We need more than they do. We have to be strong. What’s wrong with that?”

With a roar Fessran sprang forward.“I’ll tell you what’s wrong with that, you greedy wretch!” He skittered away as she glared at the others in his group. “What Ratha offers is fair to all, and I intend to support her. Either you obey my orders, or you leave the Firekeepers. Is that clear?”

With sullen growls they reluctantly agreed.

To pull Shongshar’s body up out of the gorge took the efforts of Ratha and her companions. When that was done, she sent Thakur and Fessran to search for other survivors of the disaster who might have fled and were now in hiding. Gradually they began to come back, their coats soaked and their eyes haunted. Some coughed and wheezed from the water in their lungs, while others walked stiffly, pained by sprains and bruises. When they were all assembled, Ratha led them down to the meadow.

Fessran and Bira took care of the half-drowned Firekeepers, treating them like a large litter of disobedient but still-loved cubs. Fessran made them dry themselves by the fire, a new blaze that had been lit from the fire-lairs. Bira soothed those who still trembled from their memories.

Ratha found the bodies of those who had died in the flood and helped to bring them to be laid under grave-trees at the edge of clan ground. Among the dead was the herder Shoman. Another, as she had feared, was Fessran’s son, Nyang.

Some of the more wrathful herders wanted to tear Shongshar’s body and scatter his bones, but Ratha sternly forbade them from approaching him. Carefully and respectfully, she and Thakur carried the body through the meadow and laid it beneath Bonchewer’s grave-tree.

In the following days, she and Fessran reorganized the Firekeepers, reducing their number and sending some to be retrained as herders. Now that she had control of the Red Tongue again, she could encourage Thakur and the others who had treelings to resume training them in the art of caring for fire. She was pleased to learn that Aree had not forgotten her careful lessons and the young treelings still retained much of what they had learned. She and Ratharee joined in with the others and soon were spending many of their evenings learning what treeling paws could do.