Клэр Белл - The Named - The Complete Series

Ratha hesitated to include the next one who came to mind. Herself.

She knew she still had deep-seated feelings she would have to wrestle with before she could understand and accept the ways of the hunters. She remembered how alien she had thought them and how willing she had been to attack them with fire. She had managed to hold back and think things through, but her temper, she knew, could still get her into trouble.

That is where Thakur would come in. He could guide her and advise her. He was older, more experienced, and, above all, patient. He could not only teach the age-old herding skills that the Named depended on, he could also teach tolerance, kindness, and insight. The younger cubs with more flexible minds, half-grown clan members such as Ashon and Mishanti, even the older Bundi, might also become bridges between the song-hearing, dream-stalking hunters and the alert, aware, individualistic Named.

Ratha thought this all out, packaged it carefully in her mind, with the right words, gestures, inflections, tail-waves, and even scents to express it.

One more difficulty remained, and she knew this would be the most difficult piece of the problem to chew apart.

What would she do with the Red Tongue? If she shared it, as she had started to do, would that act rebound again on her and her people? If she kept it strictly for the Named, would that be right? Was there some center trail that could minimize risks and benefits for both?

She yawned. She was starting to get dizzy with thinking.

Sitting up under the deep night sky, she shook leaf litter out of her coat and began to groom herself. The snap of a twig and soft footfalls made her pause, look up. Two shapes approached, one carrying a torch. The flame reflected on a copper coat and a red-gold one. Thakur had his treeling and Ratharee. Bira was reunited with Cherfaree. The herding teacher approached first, and Ratharee sprang from his back to Ratha’s. Before he nose-touched with her, he had to drop the load of wood in his jaws.

“Are you learning to be a Firekeeper?” she asked, half teasing.

“I’m just helping Bira.”

“Clan leader,” Bira began, “I thought you might like a little fire near your den. I’ll make you one, if you like.”

The night wasn’t that cold, but Ratha welcomed the thought of a bright friendly flame. She also sensed that Bira wanted to talk. After Bira and her treeling had built and lit the campfire, Ratha invited the young Firekeeper to lie down facing her. Wanting Thakur next to her, she gave the ground a pat with her tail, and he settled there.

“I just wanted to tell you and Thakur that I appreciated what you did for me. Tell Thistle, too. She was frightened, but she still tried to comfort me.”

Ratha waited, giving Bira time to untangle her thoughts.

“I’m feeling better now,” Bira said. I’m still having dreams about those horrible males in the courting circle, but I think they’ll go away. Especially since Thakur got there before they mated with any of us.” She looked at her paws, then said abruptly, “I know that sharing the Red Tongue with the hunter mothers and cubs helped bring all this on, but …”

“Go on,” Ratha coaxed.

“I still don’t feel that it was a bad thing to do. I wanted to help the hunters.”

“And you still have that wish.”

“Yes, even after what happened.” She gave a small cat-grin. “Am I crazy, clan leader? Rolling around with my tail in my mouth, scratching Fessran across the face, then turning around and saying that I want to build Red Tongue-nests for the young hunter cubs — I must be up a tree.”

Ratha exchanged glances with Thakur.“Bira, if you are up a tree, than I must be as well. I’ve been thinking about the same thing.”

Bira’s eyes widened. “You want to continue what we were doing? Letting me make the fires to warm their cubs?”

Ratha paused.“Yes, but not right away. We need to think of a way to do it so that what happened this time doesn’t happen again. I can’t do that by myself — I need all of the clan to help me, including you, Bira.” She paused. “We can take the opportunity to plan. The nights are warmer now and not as windy. The hunters won’t need the Red Tongue until the fall.”

“So you are willing to help them, after all that happened?” Bira asked.

“Well, you are,” Ratha answered with a cat-grin. “Bira, I can’t make absolute promises. We’re still feeling our way with the hunters. If we are respectful and careful, we can share my creature without hurting them or us. When the clan’s mating season is over, I intend to meet with True-of-voice again. I’ll tell him what I just told you.”

“I can’t ask for anything more than that, clan leader,” Bira said, getting a contented glow in her eyes. “Will the fire be all right for a while? I need to go feed cubs in the nursery.”

With a soft swish of her tail, Bira got up and padded away. Ratha went to the small woodpile and gathered up some sticks. She came back and fed the fire.

“What a trail my creature has led us along!” she said as she laid the wood gently in the hearth with her teeth. “What do you think will come next, Thakur?”

He sighed, but it was a sound of contentment, not worry.

She wiggled closer to him. He laid a paw over her. Nesting between them, the two treelings cuddled and groomed one another.

“My Ratha and her courage,” he said.

“Why courage, Thakur?”

“Because you’ve found out what courage really is, yearling.”

“I thought you told me. Courage is taking the risk of being kind.”

He nuzzled her nape, breathing gently into her fur.“That was only part of it. Real courage is being kind again, after you’ve felt that your kindness was thrown in your face. To risk it once more, or even twice more takes a special strength.”

Ratha felt warmed by the fire and by her mate. She had taken another step forward in learning leadership, though she wasn’t sure exactly when or how. “Thakur,” she said sleepily, “it wasn’t their fault. I mean True-of-voice and even New Singer. They were doing what their natures told them to. They didn’t mean the harm they did.” She paused. “They didn’t have a choice. I’m glad we do.”

“We can choose to be careful, and at the same time, we can choose to reach out,” Thakur answered.

“I know that we can’t prevent all the mistakes. Something like this could happen again, but I feel better prepared … and I will try not to be so hard on myself again.”

In answer he licked her nape. His closeness woke her heat again. Ratharee and Aree, sensing what was starting, scurried aside. Ratha flipped her tail mischievously.“You know what I want now?”

“I do,” he said, his voice deepening with hunger.

With a strong paw, he rolled her over, and they both tumbled into the shelter of her den.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Born in England in 1952, Clare Bell immigrated to the United States in 1957. She worked in oceanography, electrical engineering, and mechanical engineering before she wrote her first book,Ratha’s Creature (Atheneum-Argo Margaret K. McElderry, 1983), about a prehistoric wildcat who tames fire. She continued to write fantasy and science fiction for children and adults. She says,“I am still fascinated by prehistoric animals and big cats, as showcased in the five Ratha novels…. My stories show sociological themes, exploring how culture changes through technology, even one as crude as fire. The central theme of my fiction is evolution, a result of my being influenced early by the works of C. S. Lewis, Olaf Stapledon, and Arthur C. Clarke.”

Bell has multiple science degrees and works in technical areas in addition to writing fiction. She built and designed electric vehicles, and worked in Norway on the Ford Think EV. She also raced EVs in the Arizona Public Service Company — sponsored Solar and Electrics competitions. Her electric Porsche 914, race number 13, was a top-placing competitor. She helped lead the Women’s Electric Racing and Educational Team (WE’RE-IT), with the Porsche and a converted Rabbit (number 6) Hop-Along. After moving to the hills west of Patterson, California, Bell and her husband, Chuck Piper, installed their own solar, waterwheel, and wind systems.