Clan Ground (The Second Book of the Named) (14 page)

He gazed down at the treeling, who was crouching between his forepaws, looking up at him with inquisitive eyes. “Teaching you to care for the Red Tongue is only the beginning,” he said softly, and he listened to himself as if someone else was speaking. “There is much more we can do together.”

He watched the black paws deftly combing the fur on the treeling’s tail and sensed the beginning of a freedom he never knew he had been denied. Ratha was right. The skill of those fingers had started to become his own and it was a gift with far more power than he ever expected.

The sun was hot on his back and the sound of cubs squabbling and chasing each other far down the meadow reminded him that he had students to teach. Quickly he quenched the guttering fire and buried the ashes.

The teaching session with the young cubs began and ended late. It was almost dusk when the mothers came to take their litterlings back to their dens. Thakur stayed to care for his small teaching flock until another herder arrived.

“Could you keep my animals separated from the rest?” Thakur asked Cherfan. “It would save me from having to retrieve them from the main herd tomorrow morning.” Absently the big herder agreed, but his attention was on something else. A new fire flickered across the pasture near the sunning rock.

Cherfan stared and wrinkled his forehead. “Looks like the Firekeepers are having a gathering,” he said finally “Oh, don’t worry about your teaching herd. I’ll make sure your animals are grazed apart from the others.”

Thakur felt annoyed with the Firekeepers. He often liked to climb onto the sunning rock at dusk to catch the last warmth of the sun and watch the moon rise from behind the trees. Well, he would have to find another place tonight, or go and rest in his den. Despite his irritation he was curious about the gathering and decided to wander over and investigate.

The fire was large and cast its light far into the twilight spreading across the meadow. Smoke poured over the grass and billowed up into the sky. On his back, Aree sneezed and shook his head. Thakur’s throat stung as he circled upwind, away from the smoke haze.
The Firekeepers have built a fire far bigger than they need,
he thought crossly.

As he approached, he saw someone pacing back and forth in front of the bonfire, while others sat in a group facing it. Thakur swung back downwind, willing to brave the acrid smoke in order to catch the smells of those assembled in the gathering. He recognized most of the adult Firekeepers, including Fessran, Shongshar and Bira. He also caught the odors of some of the cubs. By now, he knew most of their individual scents. Thakur was not surprised to smell Fessran’s cubs, Chika and Nyang, among others, but he was surprised that her son Khushi’s scent was among them.

Khushi was to be trained as a herder,
he thought. The cub had been among the students he taught earlier in the day, although Shongshar had come and fetched him early, saying that Fessran needed him. Thakur was sure it had not been Khushi’s own idea to come to the Firekeeper’s gathering. He did not smell happy.

The herding teacher caught another scent, so mixed with smoke that it only hinted at who it belonged to. Was Ratha here? Thakur wasn’t sure. The darkness, which had now fallen, and the fire’s glare made it hard to recognize anyone by sight. Smoke filled his throat again, making him cough, but the roar of the fire overwhelmed any sound he made. Carefully he made his way to the back of the group and sat close enough to see who was standing in front of the bonfire.

It was Fessran and she had stopped pacing. She faced the group and sat down. Shongshar sat off to the side, with Fessran’s three cubs. He was watching her intently as she began to speak.

“My first words are for the young ones who seek training as Firekeepers. You are at this gathering tonight because you are the best. You have been chosen to come here because you are the strongest and the cleverest of the cubs born in the spring season. You are here because we who serve the Red Tongue will not accept anything less.”

Aree moved restlessly on Thakur’s shoulder. Thakur gave him a nudge to quiet him, and then crept further into the gathering, trying to see the faces of those listening. The Firekeepers sat straight, with bristling whiskers and self-satisfied expressions. Most of the cubs looked awed and excited, their eyes glowing in the firelight. Khushi, sitting between his two siblings, lowered his head and nervously licked a front paw.

“You look at the Red Tongue and it frightens you,” Fessran continued. “Why? Because it is stronger than you are and fiercer and wilder? Yes! It is a creature far greater than any of us. It can live forever if it is kept fed and it can grow larger than any animal. The fire-creature takes, as its prey, not only the beasts of the forest, but the forest itself, and, when it is angered, nothing between ground and sky escapes its rage.”

Fessran’s eyes seemed to have a glint to them that was not her own yellow-amber, but a deeper shade ... almost orange. Something made Thakur look off to the side at Shongshar. He was leaning forward over the cubs, his gaze intent, his eyes narrowed. His jaw moved as if he were speaking the same words to himself and the fire’s glare flashed on his sabers.

Fessran continued, “We may warm ourselves before the Red Tongue and see by its light, but we may do so only as long as we are worthy. And how may we prove our worth? By striving to be as strong and fierce as we can. By thinking not of our paws or our whiskers, but of our duty to the Red Tongue. By refusing to show fear even when it claws at our throats and our bellies. That is what the Red Tongue demands of us.”

Fessran paused and surveyed the group. Khushi looked more miserable than ever. “Not all of you will be chosen to train as Firekeepers,” she said. “I must know which of you are worthy.” Her tail twitched restlessly as she curled it over her feet. “Those cubs who think they are brave enough to carry the Red Tongue, come and stand before me.”

Some youngsters strutted forward, their tails high and their whiskers bristling with confidence. Others, like Khushi, crept forward nervously, unwilling to be shamed by their littermates. They arranged themselves in an uneven row in front of Fessran. The harsh light of the bonfire made them squint and blink. She paced before the cubs, studying each one in turn.

“Good,” she said finally and looked toward Shongshar. “Bring me a torch,” she commanded. He lit a dry branch and brought it to her. The cubs’ eyes widened and they sat still, their gaze fixed on the Firekeeper.

Thakur tensed. What was Fessran doing?

The Firekeeper swung around, the torch clenched in her jaws. The flame fluttered and roared as she swept it across in front of the cubs’ faces.

Several youngsters squealed in terror and fled with their tails between their legs. Others, like Chika, skittered away, turned and faced the flame with ears laid back. A few cubs flinched and crouched, holding their ground. The fur rose along their backs and bristled on their short tails.

Fessran also looked startled, as if she hadn’t expected so many of them to flee. Thakur saw her glance toward Shongshar as if seeking reassurance. Again she passed the torch in front of the remaining youngsters, trying to rout them. All but Nyang backed away, hissing.

It was all Thakur could do not to jump into the midst of the gathering and snatch the brand away from Fessran. He only held back by telling himself that she must have a reason for this, however harsh and cruel it seemed.

She gave the brand back to Shongshar, who replaced it in the fire. “So,” she said, looking out over the Firekeepers and the shaken cubs. “You see that being chosen to serve the Red Tongue isn’t as easy as you thought. Those of you who stayed within the gathering circle have shown you can fight the fear. Return to your places.”

“Firekeeper leader,” said one cub in a high quavering voice. “The ones who ran away haven’t come back yet. Someone should look for them.”

Fessran turned to Bira. “Find the litterlings who fled and take them back to their mothers. None of them are worth training.”

Bira left. Thakur felt disbelief hit him and drain through him. He had disciplined cubs himself and treated them harshly, but never had he seen youngsters so deliberately terrified and humiliated. Did it matter to Fessran that her son Khushi had been among those who fled?

He looked again at the cubs who remained in the gathering and saw the fright and rage on their faces turn into fierce determination. Perhaps this was Fessran’s way of inspiring them, by making them angry enough to fight back and demonstrate that they were worthy to become Firekeepers. Even so, her tactics seemed cruel and unnecessary.

Then he realized that some of the crowd had noticed his presence and other heads were starting to turn. Hastily he ducked down and backed out from among them. He flattened in the grass in the darkness, suddenly aware of his racing heartbeat. Fessran had begun to speak again, distracting attention from him. Quickly he wriggled away on his belly until he was far enough from them to run. As he paused and his eyes grew accustomed to the night again, he saw a form flee from behind the sunning rock.

The figure was slender and lithe, with a long tail. It was gone before Thakur was sure that he had seen it. “Ratha?” he muttered to himself in the darkness, but he wasn’t sure. His first impulse was to follow, but the smoky haze that now filled the air made it impossible to track by scent. He decided it would be best to return to his den to rest and think.

On the way to his lair, he visited Ratha’s on the chance she might be there. He found it empty. Feeling uneasy, he sought his own den and the refuge of sleep.

Chapter Eleven

The night winds had blown away the smoky haze and the morning was clear. Ratha lay atop the sunning rock and watched the dawn. She thought about the previous evening and the Firekeepers’ gathering. Her ears swiveled back and the tip of her tail twitched as she remembered what Fessran had done to the cubs.

There was no need to frighten them like that,
she thought,
nor to build such a large fire. A smaller one would have kept everyone warm.
Her tailtip twitched again.
But warmth wasn’t what Fessran wanted from the Red Tongue last night,
she reminded herself.

Ratha hadn’t really meant to hide and watch in secret. She had been late and by the time she arrived, the flames of the gathering fire were leaping into the night sky. The Red Tongue’s roar concealed her footsteps and its acrid smoke hid her smell. She could hear Fessran speaking, however, and the Firekeeper’s words weren’t what she expected to hear. The mood of the group was unusually grim and tense, as if they were readying themselves to fight some enemy instead of welcoming the youngsters who were to be trained as Firekeepers. Even the small cubs had serious expressions on their faces, although a few just looked miserable.

She had stopped her approach, sensing that her presence would disrupt what was happening. For a while, she stood still, listening, torn between her wish to approach openly and her need to know more about this gathering. At last, with a pang of regret for her choice, she circled downwind, through the billowing smoke, and found a place behind the sunning rock where she could watch and listen without being noticed.

The sunning rock. She had been there last night and she was here again. If she leaned over the edge and looked down, she knew she would see her own pugmarks in the dirt where she had crouched beside the base of the stone. If she looked the other way, she would see the freshly turned soil mixed with ash where the Firekeepers had buried the remains of the bonfire. This morning, she had squatted there and watered the place before climbing onto the sunning rock, taking some satisfaction in that small act of possession. She turned her back on the site, preferring to look out over the pasture to where the dapplebacks and three-horns grazed, with the herders tending them.

One thought remained in her mind, however, and it kept irritating her like a bone splinter between her teeth. The harshness of the Firekeepers’ test had startled her. Although she knew it was necessary to eliminate timid cubs from those who were to be trained, Ratha found herself disliking Fessran’s method. The idea was so uncharacteristic of her friend that she wondered if someone else, such as Shongshar, had suggested it.

“Ptahh!”
Ratha spat, disgusted with herself. “You know better than that. If anyone has her own ideas about things, Fessran does.” Yet, as she thought about the Firekeeper leader, she felt uneasy. Fessran had been a staunch friend and her only ally when she had first taken the Red Tongue before the clan. She had rewarded her by giving her the keeping of this new and awesome creature. It was an honor, but it was also a burden, and Ratha had hesitated before she placed it on her friend.

Often Ratha had watched a fly land on the fresh meat of a kill, knowing that one small insect could lay enough eggs to fill the carcass with maggots and taint the meat. Last night she had admitted to herself that the Red Tongue had its own taint, and she was beginning to think that even the stubborn herder who had been made Firekeeper leader was not immune to it.

As she lay there with her thoughts, she heard a rustle in the grass. She pulled her feet underneath her, crouched and faced out in the direction of the sound. Soon she saw Thakur trotting toward the sunning rock with his treeling on his back. He didn’t look up and he kept his steady pace, as if he meant to pass by on his way to the meadow’s far side.