Клэр Белл - The Named - The Complete Series

Ratha held her ground. Bira’s pace slowed and her lashing tail went stiff. “I appreciate your diligence, Firekeeper,” Ratha said dryly. “But there are others who are waiting to serve their turn at duty.”

Bira’s eyes widened in dismay. “Clan leader! I didn’t mean …”

“I know you didn’t,” Ratha said, trying to make her voice sound kind. “Come back to the fire and tell me why you abandoned your cubs.”

Bira followed her back to the circle of warm light thrown by the guard-fire. Ratha saw that Bira’s red-brown coat was rough and her tail ungroomed and matted. The young mother’s nipples bulged with too much milk and she admitted that they hurt.

“Why don’t you go and feed your litterlings?” Ratha asked again. Bira flinched and ducked her head, saying nothing.

“Is there something the matter with them?”

Bira trembled and then gave a little jerk as if she wanted to jump up and flee. She turned her head away and gazed with longing into the night. This was not like Bira at all, Ratha thought. She had always been calm and level-headed, even as a cub. Her only fault was vanity; she was overly proud of her long bushy tail. That she had ceased to groom herself told how troubled she was.

As Ratha watched her, she grew more certain that she knew the cause of Bira’s distress.

“Bira,” she said softly. “Are you afraid your cubs have no light in their eyes?”

The young mother shuddered and suddenly the words burst out of her.“Shongshar thinks there’s nothing wrong with them, but he doesn’t know. I’m the one who sees the lack of something in their eyes. I’m the one who tries to get them to say their first word, afraid that they will never speak …”

“Bira, it’s too early to tell,” Ratha said, trying to make herself believe her own words. “Have any of the cubs in other litters begun to talk?”

“No … but they try. Fessran said that her little female is starting to imitate her and makes noises that are almost words.”

“Ptahh! Fessran brags about her young. All the mothers do,” Ratha said, trying to comfort her. “And you should know better than to listen to them.”

But Bira didn’t seem convinced. “No,” she said stubbornly, looking at the ground. “There is something wrong. Maybe I carried them too long or my milk is bad.”

“There’s nothing wrong with your milk,” Ratha insisted. Bira said nothing. She sat and shivered even in the warmth of the fire. For a long time she stared at nothing.

“Fessran asked to nurse your cubs,” Ratha said at last. “I told her to feed them. I can’t let litterlings starve just because you think there is something wrong with them. We need every cub we can raise. I want you to take them back and care for them until we know if they can be named. Willyou go and nurse them?”

Bira shut her eyes.“No, clan leader.”

Ratha sighed.“Well, I can’t drag you to your den and force you to nurse. Since Fessran is willing to feed your young, would you be willing to care for hers?”

“If my milk made my litterlings sick, wouldn’t it hurt hers?” Bira asked.

“I don’t think so,” said Ratha patiently.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause all this trouble … yes, I will feed Fessran’s cubs.”

Bira gave the guard-fire some more wood and then followed Ratha back across the meadow. The clan leader waved her tail at two other Firekeepers, who promptly took Bira’s place.

The young mother wasn’t sure that Fessran’s cubs would accept her, but soon Bira was lying on her side in the maternal lair with three cubs sucking and kneading her belly. Once she had been made comfortable, Ratha went to the other den to tell Fessran that her young were being cared for. Then she returned to her own den and fell into an uneasy sleep.

The next morning Ratha came by to see how Bira’s cubs were faring. When she arrived at the den, Fessran had finished feeding them and was gone. Shongshar was taking them out of the den to play. This was the first time she had seen his young in full daylight and she studied the cubs carefully.

Even though his litterlings were slightly younger than most of the clan cubs, they seemed older. They were larger, stronger and steadier on their legs than cubs in other litters. Although their heads had the same round baby form as other cubs’, there was a subtle hint that they would develop the same arched skull as their father. The color of the fur between their spots was a fawn so light it looked ashy, with touches of silver-gray. Their infant chubbiness couldn’t quite hide the heavier forequarters and longer forelegs. Their paws were large, showing that they would someday equal their father in size. The smell on them was more Shongshar’s than Bira’s.

She watched him too and saw that, unlike most of the clan males, who wouldn’t tolerate their cubs until they reached a sensible age, Shongshar was delighted with his. He abandoned his usual reserve and played with them as if he were just another cub in the same litter. He let them attack his tail, chew on his ears and climb all over him. Ratha had never heard Shongshar purr, but the continuous rumble that came from his throat as he rubbed his cheek against the little male was the sound of absolute contentment.

Yet, the longer she watched, the more she felt a growing uneasiness about the cubs. They played much as the litterlings in the nursery did: they stalked, pounced and wrestled; but there was something strangely lacking. Their movements were quick and their eyes keen; they seemed to notice everything that moved. But once the object, such as a swaying flower or their father’s tail, had been attacked and subdued, it held no further interest unless it moved again.

The litterlings in the nursery also were attracted by things that moved, but after the first clumsy pounce, the cub’s expression would change from the excitement of the hunter to the intent curiosity of one who hungered to understand its world. The litterlings’ eyes always held questions, even if their tongues were not yet ready to ask them.

Being careful not to disturb the three, Ratha edged closer so she could see more clearly. Shongshar’s eyes were glowing with affection and happiness as he tumbled the cubs about with his big paws. Their eyes were alive with momentary excitement, but there was nothing more. Trying to fight the chill creeping over her, Ratha stared hard until her own eyes ached, but she could see nothing. No questions, no hunger … no light. As much as she desperately wished to deny it, she knew Bira’s instincts had been right.

She felt as though she were looking at cubs who had been stricken with sickness and were soon to die. The sight of them suddenly made her belly churn as it did when she smelled rotten meat; she hated herself for her feeling. Now she knew why Bira couldn’t nurse them. If she had forced the young mother to care for these cubs, she would certainly have killed them and then run from the clan in shame and despair.

“Clan leader!” Shongshar had caught sight of her. Ratha gathered her feelings together and put them away. She forced herself to approach him.

“I see that they’re thriving on Fessran’s milk,” she said, unable to think of anything else.

“I’m grateful to her for nursing them.” Shongshar stopped and looked troubled. “I don’t understand what’s wrong with Bira. How could she leave such fine cubs as these? Look how quick and strong they are.”

Ratha knew she didn’t have to answer him. As clan leader, she didn’t have to answer anyone if she didn’t want to. She could just mumble something vague and walk away. She looked up into his eyes. The happiness had gone, replaced by the shadow of the same pain she had seen in Bira’s. Inwardly she hesitated, knowing that what she must say next would only add to his hurt.