Клэр Белл - The Named - The Complete Series

“Enough!” Ratha cried.

The torchbearers fell back. The silvercoat crept to the base of the sunning rock. Thakur heard the murmurs around him and knew that the stranger’s courage had impressed even those who bore the greatest hatred for the Un-Named.

The silver lifted his streaked and smeared muzzle to Ratha and stared directly into her eyes.“Orange-Eyes is worthy. Orange-Eyes stays.”

She crouched on the edge of the rock, her lips drawn back to show the tips of her fangs. For a moment Thakur thought she would pounce on the Un-Named One and shred the rest of his face for his impudence. As green and fire-colored eyes met, Thakur saw in Ratha’s gaze a reluctant and surprised admission of respect. There was a further moment of tension between them; then she wrinkled her nose at the stranger and relaxed.

“All right, Orange-Eyes is worthy,” she said. “He stays, at least for now.” She got to her feet, cutting off the mutters and growls of astonishment and outrage. “The gathering is ended. The Firekeepers may eat now. To your dens, the rest of you. There are still beasts to herd and day willcome soon.”

She waited until the group had begun to disperse before calling,“Thakur, come to the sunning rock.”

His tail curled in surprise. Ratha jumped down and stood beside Orange-Eyes. The Un-Named One had regained his feet, but only by leaning heavily against the base of the rock.

“Clan teacher,” Ratha began, “since you have the most patience of any of us, I ask you to take charge of him for the night. Give him some meat from the Firekeepers’ kill and show him the stream where he may wash the blood away. If he is still alive tomorrow, bring him to my den.”

Ratha drifted up out of deep slumber. She became aware of the damp, chilly ground under her chin. She squirmed further back into her den, into the warmth still held by dry leaves and grass, leaving only her nose poking out into the early morning wind. When the breeze died, the sun bathed her muzzle and dried the dew on her whiskers. She was slipping back into sleep again when a cold shadow fell across her face.

She came awake instantly, jerking her head up and pulling her paws beneath her. She squinted at the two figures who stood against the sunrise. One she recognized as Thakur, but the other she couldn’t place. Who was this skeleton with such a ragged pelt and strange long fangs? Then she caught the stranger’s pungent stink and winced.

“Last night,” said Thakur’s voice softly. Ratha didn’t need his words to remember.

“You’re early,” she grumbled, crawling from the den and trying to smooth her rumpled fur with her tongue. She was further disconcerted when neither of her visitors said anything. They waited while she stretched and groomed. She found herself taking longer than she usually did, for the stranger’s direct gaze irritated her.

“I see he survived the night despite the Firekeepers’ games,” she said to Thakur, allowing her tail one irritable wag. She saw his ears swivel back slightly and she imagined what he must be thinking.The Firekeepers’ game? No, Ratha, the dance-hunt is yours and you gave the order for it to continue.

At least he had the tact not to speak the thought aloud. She shook her head, making her ears flap. Had she really turned her victory celebration into a test of courage for the Un-Named One? And had she promised him he could stay with the clan as a reward for enduring the Red Tongue’s terror? She groaned softly to herself.I was half-mad last night. I think we all were.

She sat up, curling her tail over her feet.“Bring him here and let me look at him.” She immediately regretted her request when Thakur led his charge in front of her. The full sunlight did nothing to disguise his appearance and seemed to intensify his smell. New blisters overlay old mange and along his ridged back and sunken flanks ulcers showed from festering fly bites. Where parasites and fire hadn’t ravaged him, there were the bites and scratches from the frenzied Firekeepers.

Ratha felt sick and ashamed. Driving him away or giving him an honorable death would have been better than unleashing the torchbearers on him.He would have died last night had I not seen the light in his eyes.Why didn’t you die, she thought at him sulkily.Then I wouldn’t have to bother with you.

She caught the scent of medicinal herbs and knew that Thakur had applied a chewed-leaf poultice to the Un-Named One’s burns. They probably looked and smelled better than they would have otherwise.Thank you for showing him some kindness, Thakur. She looked at the herding teacher and felt her gaze soften.

“Lie down if you want,” she said to the Un-Named One. He dropped his hindquarters, but the rest of him remained upright. Ratha felt irritation creeping up on her again. She pressed her tail under one hind foot to keep it from wagging. Every look and move the stranger made seemed softly defiant.Inside that starvation-ravaged carcass, she could see the build of a powerful young male, and she found herself wondering what sort of opponent he would be at his full strength.

“Do you still wish to join us?” she asked.

“Orange-Eyes came to join clan. Is all Orange-Eyes wants, leader.”

“Here in the clan we use names when we speak to each other. You know Thakur. I am Ratha. You will also be given a clan name if you stay with us.”

“Will take clan name and learn clan ways, Ratha-leader.” The silvercoat flinched at his mistake and added, “Is not ‘Ratha-leader’ but ‘Ratha,’ yes?”

She relaxed. He was trying to please. Perhaps his defiance was all in her own mind.

“Yes.” She took her foot off her tail.

“I’ll take him to the meadow with me and he can watch while I teach the cubs,” Thakur offered. He turned to the Un-Named One. “Do you feel strong enough?”

“Legs still …,” the other said, groping for a word. He raised a paw and flailed it, giving Ratha a rueful grin.

“Shaky,” Thakur supplied.

“Legs still shaky, but belly much better. Not learning bad for Un-Named One, yes?”

“Yes, you do seem to be learning quickly,” Ratha agreed. “All right, Thakur. Take him with you. If you want more leaves for his burns, I found a new patch by the stream near the meadow trail.”

“Good. I’ve nearly stripped my old one bare.”

Something small and active jumped from the Un-Named One’s pelt and landed near Ratha’s foot. She hopped away as he scratched himself.

“I suggest, Thakur, that you make him roll in the fleabane before you do anything else, or we’ll all be scratching.”

During the next few days, curiosity nagged at Ratha despite her trust in the herding teacher. It was too soon to tell how Orange-Eyes would take to life among the Named. Thakur did say that his strength was coming back and he displayed a sharp interest in the teaching sessions, but as the days went by, she itched to see for herself.

Meetings with the Firekeepers and minor disputes over whose den was dug too close to whose kept Ratha busy. This morning she decided to creep away before anyone else could find her.

The day was bright and hot. Sun and shade dappled the trail through the broken forest to the meadow. Birds flew from oak to scrub thorn, dipping so low over the trail they nearly brushed her back. When she reached the meadow, she made her way through the dry grass, craning her neck to peer above the waving stems and spot the herd. There it was; a small flock of three-horns and dapplebacks that the herding teacher had taken from the larger herd in order to exercise his students.

Thakur and the yearling cubs stood together on one side of the flock. The youngsters gathered around him, their ears cocked, their spotted rumps squashed together, their short tails lifted. He was explaining something; she could hear the rise and fall of his voice, but couldn’t understand what he was saying. The cubs seemed attentive. No. Wait. Wasn’t one missing? Where was Drani’s son Bundi?