Клэр Белл - The Named - The Complete Series

Something in me whispers that he could grow into a leader of great wisdom, Ratha thought.

Thistle glanced up at her, sea-green eyes glowing.“Can’t say it the same way you can, Mother, but he is … just … good.”

“If you are happy with him, that is good.” Ratha took a deep breath. “Now, you wanted to speak to me before the gathering.”

“Also would like to see Quiet Hunter have both clans,” Thistle began. “Know it will be difficult. Dangerous, too. Afraid of what could happen if we share Red Tongue. More afraid, maybe, than Quiet Hunter.” She stopped, looked down at her paws, then up, a stubborn glint coming into her eyes.“Feel that Red Tongue is way too dangerous to share at start. When True-of-voice and others see Firekeepers, they will do same, only better, like Thakur and three-horn fawn. Like killing — they won’t just grab and pull down, they won’t be able to stop. Something bad will happen, like killing fawn when not needed. Understand?”

“I think so,” Ratha said.

“Love Quiet Hunter, but can’t agree with him on this. Must use something else to draw two tribes together. Song is too powerful and … blind … for using Red Tongue.”

“Thistle, to be honest, I feel the same. I hate the way that True-of-voice claws into his people’s minds and twists them, like breaking a herdbeast’s neck.”

“Then you won’t—”

“I can’t say that yet, Thistle. If my choice just affected me, or just me and you, I could, but it affects so many. There are other things as well.”

“What other things?” Thistle asked, her whiskers starting to bristle.

“Well, you said that True-of-voice’s song is very good at doing the things it knows about. The Red Tongue isn’t one of those.”

“Didn’t know about herdbeast takedowns either,” Thistle retorted.

“Yes, but True knows hunting very well. Even though that black belly-biter repeated nearly everything Thakur did, he was still hunting, not herding.”

Thistle cocked her head.“Are words fighting feelings inside you? Hear scratching and yowling.”

For a moment Ratha did not know what to say. She also wished Thistle wasn’t so perceptive. “Yes,” she finally answered. “But they have to fight.”

“Because of you being clan leader.”

Because of me being what I am, Thistle.

She noticed that the sun was growing warmer and the shadows shorter.“The gathering will start soon.”

“I can speak at it?” Thistle asked as Ratha started to turn. She felt Thistle’s tail brush tentatively across her back.

“Yes, both you and Quiet Hunter. Everybody will have a turn, but since I have talked to both of you before the gathering, let others go first.”

Thistle’s tail lifted in agreement, and then flopped across Ratha’s. They slid alongside one another, exchanging affection and scents.

“You are like Quiet Hunter,” Thistle whispered in her ear.

In that you can disagree with both of us but still love us, Ratha thought, feeling the fur of her daughter’s forehead against her own. The hairs met and mingled, finding their way through and past one another to sensitive skin.

Side-by-side, they set off for the gathering. Part of the way there, Thistle stopped, flipping her tail back and forth. Ratha recognized indecision.“Something else troubles you?”

“Think you would be mad at me. For saying that True-of-voice should show you what his hunters could do. Teased you. Shouldn’t have. Made fawn die. Sorry.”

“I was angry at you,” Ratha said as the two paced together. “Maybe I still am, a little.”

“Can understand that. I should think more before pouncing. Not make so many Thistle-messes.”

“We caught something out of that incident, as much as I don’t want to admit it.”

Thistle crooked her tail, looking up in puzzlement.

“We would have found out about the song’s ‘blindness’ later, perhaps after we’d given True’s people the use of fire. I prefer to know it now.”

Instead of sitting on the sunning rock, Ratha decided to take her seat on the lower outcrop nearby. This morning she wanted to be with, not above, her people. The clan, who had arrived, settled around the outcrop. Thistle fell behind Ratha as mother and daughter approached the gathering.

“No, stay at my side,” Ratha commanded.

As the rising sun chased off the dew, the Named made way for Ratha and Thistle. Ratha caught looks of mild surprise mingled with approval. She was pleased that Thistle had earned the right to walk in honor beside her mother. The clan surged around the pair, rubbing foreheads and licking faces. All the Named were there except for Mishanti who was looking after the rumblers, and Fessran’s older daughter Chikka, who was minding the small cubs in the nursery.

Ratha draped herself across the outcrop with Thistle beside her. She began slowly, almost softly.“What happened at the gathering yesterday is troubling. It will affect our decision whether or not to share the Red Tongue with True-of-voice’s people.”

She looked across at Fessran, who sat with Bira by her side and the Firekeepers around her. Then Ratha’s gaze went to Thakur, with Ashon and the other herding students, and then to Cherfan and the working herders. Bringing her gaze back to the Firekeepers, Ratha said, “Fessran, I’d like to hear from you first. When the black hunter killed the fawn, you were furious. Has this changed your feeling about sharing the Red Tongue?”

“No it has not, clan leader. Even though Thakur had to sit on me to keep me from shredding that belly-biting killer, I still believe that my Firekeepers can safely share the Red Tongue with them.”

“How can we prevent what happened yesterday?” Cherfan asked gruffly. “Yes, this time it was a fawn, but next time it might be a grown three-horn, a striper, or—”

“The mistake yesterday,” the sandy-furred Firekeeper leader interrupted, “was not in showing our herding skills. It was in letting a hunter actually get his claws on our herdbeast. This will not happen with the Red Tongue if only Firekeepers tend the flame.”

Ratha saw heads turning to exchange looks. Fessran had obviously made a strong point.“Bira,” she said, pointing with her nose at the ruddy-gold young female whose plumed tail curled around her feet. “You did well yesterday when you prevented a fight. What do you think?”

“If we place several Firekeepers at each campfire to prevent anyone from meddling with it, I will agree with Fessran. Quiet Hunter has spoken about the litterlings shivering in the wind. I feel it would be wrong not to help them,” Bira replied.

“Can the Firekeepers keep the campfire safe?” The question came from Mondir. Beside him, Khushi, Fessran’s son and also a herder, lifted his whiskers in support.

Hazel-eyed Drani had a suggestion.“If we keep the Red Tongue on clan land and bring the other tribe’s small cubs here …”

Before Ratha could stop Fessran, the Firekeeper leader snorted.“Haven’t you had enough of carrying our own litterlings around, Drani? The fur between my teeth makes everything I eat taste like cub hair.”

“Besides,” added Bira, “would the hunter cubs’ mothers allow us anywhere near them?”

“Then their mothers can bring them,” said Drani, refusing to back down.

Bira gazed at Fessran,“That’s not a bad idea.”

“Not all mothers will,” said Quiet Hunter softly. “If you make it harder, fewer will use it. Cubs will still shiver.”

Ratha swiveled her ears as they spoke, taking in all the opinions. She agreed with Bira. Letting the face-tail hunting tribe come to the Red Tongue on clan ground would be safer. Should they even allow that? Her eyes sought Thakur, who, so far, had said little.