Клэр Белл - The Named - The Complete Series

Together Thakur and Orange-Eyes charged them. The animals loped away, their tongues hanging and their short, ragged tails tucked between their legs. Instead of scattering, the bristlemanes circled back. Thakur spun to seek a retreat only to find himself blocked in every direction. He, Fessran and Orange-Eyes were completely surrounded.

He backed up against the two others, smelling their fear and feeling them shake. The downpour grew heavier, until he could barely see a tail-length ahead or hear the faraway cries of the other herders. He felt the fur on his neck rise in fright. The three of them would get no help from the other herders, who must be busy chasing the other raiders from the herd.

The bristlemanes closed in. Now he could see the black and yellow mottling on their pelts and the stiff, coarse manes along their necks. Their eyes shone cold and eager. The flesh of the Named could fill those bellies as well as herdbeast meat, Thakur knew. Their nostrils widened and their large ears trembled, swiveling forward.

The bristlemanes approached cautiously, their black muzzles lowered, their heavy jaws slavering. Their smell reached him, making him think of flies crawling over white bones. The Un-Named One’s growl sounded on one side of him, Fessran’s snarl on the other. Her snarl turned to a screech as a bristlemane dived for her flank. Thakur saw her twist away and fasten her teeth in the thick mane, but the fur was so stiff and heavy that, however she worked her jaws, she couldn’t bite deeply enough. Blood began to run, but the creature stayed on its feet, dragging Fessran with it.

Thakur had to guard himself as another bristlemane rushed him and snapped at his belly. He sprang onto the creature’s back, sinking his teeth into its neck. The bristlemane strained its head back, shoving against his jaws until they ached. Teeth clamped on his tail and a savage jerk nearly dragged him off.

He fell to the side, his forelegs wrapped around the creature’s neck as he sought frantically for a throat hold. The pull on his tail dragged his hindquarters loose and he heard the shrill cries of the other bristlemanes as they danced around him. He lost his grip and fell heavily on his side. Paws stepped on his flank and noses snuffled at him.

For a moment he could see only legs and bellies. The nearest set of legs shuddered and then staggered. The bristlemane went down with Orange-Eyes on top of it.

Thakur was near enough to see every detail. The silvercoat flung his head back and his lower jaw dropped close to the underside of his throat freeing the full length of his fangs. His head drove down, the teeth descending with the full weight of the Un-Named One’s forequarters behind them.

There was a tearing and grinding as teeth sheared through fur and hide to meet bone. The bristlemane screamed once.

Orange-Eyes lifted his muzzle from the ruin of the animal’s nape. Thakur stared at him, caught in a sudden cold fright stronger than his fear of the bristlemanes. He knew that the stabbing bite he’d seen was like nothing the Named had ever used.

He pulled himself from his daze as he regained his feet, becoming aware that the other bristlemanes had retreated, whimpering uneasily. A short distance away, Fessran worried the limp body of another. She gave it one last shake and left it. Thakur did not have to approach to see the mark of Orange-Eyes’s bite.

Fessran rubbed against Thakur, still shivering with rage. She spat and showed her fangs at the marauders. She turned to Orange-Eyes, who was wiping his muzzle on the soaked pelt of his kill, and said,“Thanks, youngster. Those teeth of yours are good in a fight.”

The Un-Named One looked at Fessran. His eyes were oddly wary. She didn’t seem to notice.

She knows he killed the bristlemanes, Thakur thought to himself. She didn’t see how he killed them.

“Are you injured, herding teacher?”

It took Thakur an instant to respond to Orange-Eyes’s question. “They chewed my tail, but nothing else.”

Hoarse brays and shrill barks came through the sound of the rain.“There are more of those belly-biters after the dapplebacks,” Fessran growled. “Come on!”

Together, the three of them bounded toward the noise.

The rain lightened, and Thakur could see further ahead. The rest of the bristlemanes had cut into the dappleback herd, trying to separate out an old mare and her late-birthed colt. Her coat was grizzled and her feet worn. Thakur knew the herders had marked the pair for culling, for the colt was sickly. So had the bristlemanes.

They ringed the mare and her offspring, forcing them away from the flock. She fought fiercely to regain it, lashing out with her hind feet. One marauder staggered away with its jaw broken and flopping loose. The others dodged her kicks and began to drive the colt down the meadow, nipping at its hocks. They broke into a fast lope, forcing the young dappleback to canter.

From the opposite direction came Ratha and the Firekeepers with newly lit torches in their jaws, but they were too far away and the pack was gathering speed.

Thakur lengthened his stride until he was alongside the bristlemanes. He saw Orange-Eyes and Fessran pacing him on the other side, across the backs of the bristlemanes. Encircled by the pack, the dappleback mare and her colt veered from side to side, trying to break through the ring of their captors. The mare’s sides heaved and her breath came in heavy grunts. Lather flew from her neck and her eyes rolled.

Thakur felt the breath burn in his chest as he panted. He knew he could outrun the bristlemanes over short distances, but they could travel far keeping this pace. They had already settled into a ground-eating lope that would soon weary the pursuing Firekeepers. If the pack got away with these dapplebacks, they would run the pair until they were exhausted, then harass and nip at the horses until they pulled them down.

He clamped his teeth together and put all his remaining strength into one last sprint. He glanced back to see an ugly muzzle open its jaws behind his tail. He raced ahead, lengthening his lead, knowing he would need every bit of the distance.

He bounced to a stop, kicked himself into the air, spun around and hurled himself broadside into the chest of the pack leader. The impact drove the breath from his lungs. With a choked howl, the bristlemane tumbled, and Thakur felt the animal shudder repeatedly as more of the pack piled into it. He clawed his way up through a confused mass of thrashing bodies and snapping muzzles. He heard shrill cries as the rest of the animals scattered in confusion.

With a triumphant whinny, the old mare sailed over his head and galloped away from the writhing heap of bristlemanes. The colt followed. From the corner of his eye Thakur saw the Un-Named One yank a bristlemane away by its tail and seize another. He didn’t bother to kill them but just thrust them aside as he and Fessran opened a path for Thakur. The herding teacher dragged his forepaw loose and thrust it at Fessran. He yelped in pain as she fastened her jaws on his leg and hauled him out of the fray.

Thakur caught the gleam of fire on wet pelts and knew the Firekeepers had encircled the bristlemane pack. Now that the rain was stopping, the torches remained lit. The bristlemanes huddled together in the center, their ears flattened, their howls turning to whines. Several Firekeepers brought unlit sticks that had been chewed to a point and sharpened in the flame.

The bristlemanes climbed over and around each other to escape the vengeful creature that surrounded them. A Firekeeper thrust a brand at a trapped animal and it retreated until it backed into the others and could go no further. Its cries became faster and shriller until they became a terrified wail. It crouched and shuddered, trying to bury its face in its flank.