Клэр Белл - The Named - The Complete Series

“Ratha, watch yourself!” came a screech. Thakur bounded toward her, but the snarling faces of an encircling raider gang cut off her view of him. They were capturing all the females, the clan leader being no exception.

Ratha let her rage turn her into a spinning fury, slashing and raking with claws, tearing and ripping with teeth. When she had to pause, chest and throat burning, raiders lay about her, but more surrounded her. Behind them she caught a glimpse of New Singer, silently commanding his forces. The sight of him enraged her, but despite another wild flurry, they closed on her and seized her. She felt her feet being pulled through the grass as they hauled her away after Fessran and Bira.

Despair flooded over her rage, mixing to form desperation. Attacked again. Defeated again, just like she had been when Shongshar took over the clan and drove her out. No. No. She wouldn’t accept that.

Throwing her head around wildly, she caught sight of more rogues closing in on Thistle-chaser.

Not my daughter. Not Thistle!

She screamed, a sound that made even her captors start. Maddened, she heaved and bucked, renewing her struggle, feeling enemy teeth breaking as she tore away or slammed into them.

They pushed her down, crushing her, pulling her head back, stretching her neck. She saw New Singer approaching, bending his head down over her. The points of sharp teeth at her throat slid through her fur to her skin. New Singer’s breath was hot beneath her chin. She felt the points start to dig in, stretching, and then breaking through skin into less-resisting flesh.

New Singer was closing his mouth slowly, letting her experience the gradual buildup of pressure in his jaws, savoring his triumph.

Very well then. So this would be her end. The proud bearer of the Red Tongue slain by outcasts from a dream-walking hunter tribe. No, not slain just by the enemy, but by her mistakes and misjudgment. She had blundered badly. She was not worthy to lead the Named. It was better that she die in the teeth of the enemy. It would be quick and less painful than watching her people fall under New Singer. More merciful than being exiled and having to watch from a distance as her people suffered under a tyrant as they had under Shongshar.

So she would die and another would lead the Named. She was ready. She wouldn’t flinch or cry out no matter how deep those teeth went.

Suddenly the teeth went sideways, making her gasp with an unexpected pain. Then with a jerk, they yanked free. The sound of Named males roaring, and then a sudden jostling, made her realize she was no longer in the claws of the enemy. Paws were rolling her over, getting her feet underneath her. Tongues were licking away the blood from her throat. Suddenly she felt a flash of resentment. No. She had been ready to die. She could not bear what life had done. She wanted New Singer to finish his task and eliminate a failure of a Named leader. Having to know and face what was happing to Thistle-chaser, Fessran, Bira and others because of her was torture beyond bearing.

Cherfan loomed over her, his face bloodied but triumphant.“I wasn’t going to let him kill you, clan leader.”

Then another voice: Thakur.“Ratha, you’re free. Can you get up? We didn’t get New Singer, but we got you back, which is more important.”

She almost welcomed the sudden faintness from blood loss. She trembled on the edge, wanting to dive into that enveloping dark. Thakur, you are wrong. You shouldn’t have wasted your effort to rescue me.

She felt herself propped up on one side by Thakur, on the other by Cherfan. Despite the bleakness in her heart, she made her body do as the two males and the rest of her people demanded.

Where were the rest of her people? She blinked, forced herself to look around. She saw the faces of clan males, but there were no females. Had the enemy killed them all? What had happened to the cubs?

“We have the cubs here,” said Thakur, swinging aside to show her litterlings in the gentle grasp of their sires, brothers, or uncles.

Ratha gasped,“What happened …?”

“New Singer changed his mind,” Thakur answered, his voice grim. “Again. We made it too hard for him to kill our young, so he’s taken a new trail. He just wants to get rid of us clan males; whether he kills or drives us out makes no difference to him.”

“Why? What’s he doing? My head is spinning, Thakur. I can’t get a claw or a tooth into this. I could fight the Un-Named when they preyed on our herds. I could even fight Shongshar when he took over the clan. This New Singer … he keeps twisting and turning…. I feel that every time we strike at him, we get a clawful of air.” She paused and said ruefully, “Every time I try to understand him, I feel as though I’ve got air between my ears.”

“Yearling,” he said, using his old name for her, “I am beginning to understand. I can’t explain to you now. We have to take the cubs to a refuge and then get the herdbeasts.”

“But Thistle … Fessran … Bira …” Ratha stumbled.

“They were alive the last time I saw them. If New Singer is doing what I think he is, he won’t kill them.”

“Am I the only female they didn’t take?” Ratha looked around again for her daughter, her friends, still not able to accept that they were gone.

“Yes, clan leader.”

Ratha glanced at Thakur. His choice of words was deliberate. Whether or not she wanted the task or felt worthy of it, she was still the leader of the Named. Something cried in her to plunge into a rescue of the captured Named females, but she knew that the immediate survival of her people depended on saving the cubs.

She struggled to push the black fog out of her mind and think.“We have to find a safe place before any of New Singer’s rogues return.” She made herself speak, addressing all the clan males. Her eyes met theirs, but only briefly, for a part of her couldn’t bear to see any looks of judgment that might cross their faces. “I know one and it isn’t far.” She forced her voice to be strong. “Thakur, you know it, too. Do you remember the leaning stones above the waterfall where we hid when Shongshar threw me out?”

“Yes. We’ll go …”

Ratha knew why he stopped himself. Again she had to force words from her tongue.

“Take the cubs and follow me. Hurry, before New Singer gets wind of this. As soon as the cubs are safe, we’ll go back for the herdbeasts.”

“I’ll go find Quiet Hunter, Ashon, and Bundi and meet up with you,” volunteered Mondir. Then he looked at Ratha, his gaze steady. Even though his expression was mild, it seemed to stab her in the tender part of her feelings. “We’ve lost, haven’t we?”

“For now, yes,” she managed. “In the long term, no, not if we can save our litterlings.” She bent down and picked up a cub that had fallen from its father’s back, willing her legs not to turn to water.

With the youngster in her jaws, she sprang into a canter, Thakur beside but slightly behind her, the others following.

She led the clan males along a route she remembered. The experience seemed so long ago, although she knew it was only a few turns of the seasons. She skirted the borders of clan ground, up a pine-wooded slope, shadowing a three-horn trail that climbed along a rocky creek bank. Her party passed the huge cave where Shongshar had held his fire-dance, and reigned, a bloated tyrant, over the Named. Now the waterfall that had once fallen in the free air plunged through the roof of the cave and made another cascade out the former entrance, its flow washing out the previous access path.

The waterfall washed away the evil that the Red Tongue had been twisted into and those who had done the twisting. As Ratha climbed past it, she wished that there could be such a simple, clean resolution to the threat that she and the Named now faced. This situation was more complex, less easy to divide into absolute good and evil.