Клэр Белл - The Named - The Complete Series

Fessran agreed.“We must protect the fire and the animals.”

“All right, bring your Firekeeper scouts back in. Tell Thistle I want her as well. Thakur, you and Cherfan have the herders get all the herdbeasts into the meadow. Fessran, set up guard-fires around the herd and the fire-den. Have torches ready.” Ratha paused. “We won’t strike first, but we’ll be ready if New Singer does.”

Fessran left, but Ratha asked Thakur to stay.“Herding teacher,” she said, “I am surprised you haven’t suggested that we try to speak with New Singer. Or True-of-voice, either.”

“If it was just the one group of hunters, I would,” he replied. “Having to deal with a second is too much — it stretches us too thin.”

“Also, we don’t have Quiet Hunter. And Thistle is distracted. Look, if nothing happens in a few days, I will try to speak with True-of-voice or New Singer. I don’t want to lash out at either without cause. At the same time, we can’t leave ourselves vulnerable to attack.”

“Reasonable, yet responsible,” Thakur said.

“I learned from you,” Ratha said softly.

“That pleases me, yearling. I’ll go get Cherfan and secure the animals.”

A tense stillness lay on the air as the Named prepared for the unknown yet still attended to the necessities: the cubs, the animals, and the fire. Ratha hoped that this would last only a few days, but she was ready for conflict. She tried not to get anyone angry or excited. A mistake by an over eager torchbearer could plunge the clan into an unwanted fight. Instead, she sought her own calmness, blended it with determination, and spread it among her people.

If New Singer held off, then perhaps she could approach him. And/or, perhaps, True-of-voice, asking him to change the song that drove his son and his peers out, and receive them again. If the Named had unintentionally caused this split in the hunter tribe, they could help heal it.

I don’t want this to stop me from reaching out, Ratha thought as she watched her clan go about their tasks. I also don’t want to undermine my own people.

I have to stop chasing my tail about this. What I’ve done is right, and I don’t need Thakur or Fessran to agree, although I’m glad they do.

I’ve done what the Named have been afraid to do before; I’ve thought beyond just the needs of our clan and extended help to others. Even if we have to pull back temporarily, reaching out to True-of-voice and his people is right. Perhaps someday we can extend such friendship to the Un-Named.

Each day that passed without a fight breaking out was a victory for Ratha. Although she kept a tight watch on New Singer and his all-male group, she saw no indication that the fledgling tribe wanted conflict with the Named. This was the fifth day after she had given the alert and she thought she might send Thistle-chaser and an escort to attempt to speak with New Singer.

This may all be worry over nothing, she told herself as she lay in a half-sphinx on the sunning rock, watching the morning sun rise. What is happening between True-of-voice’s tribe and New Singer’s renegades probably has nothing to do with us.

Ratharee stirred in the warm fur on Ratha’s belly.

“What do you think?” she asked her treeling. The creature gave what Ratha thought was an enormous yawn for a small animal. “Have I managed to walk this tricky path, with True-of-voice on one side and New Singer on the other? Have I helped others without harming the clan?”

It was beginning to appear that she had. The day looked beautiful, promising. Warmth began to bathe the sunning rock as Ratharee jumped up to Ratha’s nape, settled herself, and began grooming.

“Have you managed to convince your friend and second in command that you’re getting mushy-brained, talking to a treeling? Yes, you have.”

Ratha snapped her head around. Fessran was sauntering toward the base of the sunning rock.

“Ho, singe-whiskers,” Ratha teased back. “How stand things on clan ground?”

“Well, my leader, things stand the same as they did yesterday and the day before and the day before that. Not a move or a peep out of any of our strange neighbors. To rudely interrupt the … ahh … conversation you were having with your treeling, I’d say yes, you have once again managed to tiptoe a path through the crocodiles.”

Ratha couldn’t help a cat-grin. Fessran was certainly in good form this morning.

“Well, I’m looking forward to getting a bit more sleep when you relax things a bit,” said the Firekeeper, in response to Ratha’s query.

“I’ll ease off after I’ve settled things with New Singer. Thistle and I should be able to go over there tomorrow and talk to them. We’ll also recover Quiet Hunter. Then I’ll approach True-of-voice.”

“In the mean time, Thakur, Cherfan, you, and I will keep on as we have. I assume that guarding the Red Tongue and the herdbeasts are the most important tasks?”

“They are,” Ratha replied, trying to inject a note of somberness into her voice, but the brilliant, playful freshness of the day made it difficult. And she was feeling relieved and rewarded at having made it over another barrier in the path of the Named….

After she had patrolled, she would reward herself with a good meal, a thorough grooming, and a nap in the shade of the old live oak.

“I think that New Singer’s group is already falling apart,” Fessran observed. “They’re scattering; he doesn’t have as many as he did at first.”

“All right, but keep a close watch,” Ratha said.

With an elegant wave of her ash-streaked tail, Fessran pivoted around to leave.

“Just wait until you get a treeling,” Ratha yowled.

“I don’t need one of those flea-pickers,” Fessran retorted. “Unlike some people, I don’t have any fleas.”

Ratha watched her friend stalk off. If Fessran was any indication, things were getting back to normal.

I hope the only problem I have after this is what to do about Bundi and Mishanti’s rumbler-beasts.

She did her patrol as she intended, checking in with everyone and hearing the latest reports. Fessran was right. New Singer’s band appeared to be fragmenting, its members dispersing, perhaps returning to their parent tribe. It was possible that the entire situation would resolve itself.

Ratha was glad she had used patience. She felt she was still young, for a clan leader, but growing more mature. She didn’t have to pounce on things so quickly; she could wait, watch, and think before choosing the best move.

Ratha lifted her head and felt the sun warm her face. A feeling of contentment washed through her, replacing the worry. She had done her best for all, even though it was difficult. No one, not even Thistle, could ask any more of her. She’d done it without harming the clan. That was the most important thing.

After a meal and a good pelt-licking session, she told Fessran where she would be and what to do if something did happen. Then, with Ratharee on her shoulder, she ambled over to the old oak and settled in the leaves from last season, smelling their aroma and letting herself drift luxuriously into a well-deserved snooze.

“Ratha!”

“Clan leader!”

“We’re being attacked!”

The calls came in two voices, startling Ratha. Feeling Ratharee grabbing her nape, she jerked her head up. She blinked. A moment ago she had been in a contented doze; now, if she believed what she was hearing…

No, it couldn’t be. Someone was trying a trick, or some half-grown litterling had gotten scared. The scents and voices told her that the pair was the yearling Mishanti and his older friend Bundi, sharpening her suspicions.

She felt Ratharee’s fingers tighten in her fur as she jumped up from the leaf litter. Yes, it was the terrible two again.