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Authors: W. Bruce Cameron

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BOOK: The Dog Master
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Another part of the cave also lured them; the same world-scents pouring in through spaces between rocks and dirt. The pups yearned to smell more, to explore and learn.

One day, with the man gone and the mother-wolf asleep, the three pups took out their frustration on the barrier between them and the outside, digging with their tiny paws at the soft dirt and nosing aside the stones they found. It was the first day that the males deferred to their larger sibling—when she pressed forward to dig, they hung back to allow it. She would dig until she lost interest, but her brothers' continued efforts would eventually attract her attention again, and then they would once more step aside to allow her access.

The lush odors became stronger. Soon she could poke her nose out of the den, inhaling the yet-to-be-discovered in deep snorts. Panting and whimpering in excitement, her brothers danced around behind her, and eventually she allowed them to have a turn. It was something she understood, another new thing that day: she would make decisions and her brothers would follow her lead.

Yet it was one brother, and then the next, who first squeezed out of the den and into the sunshine. The big female pup held back, conflicted, smelling her mother behind her. Yes, she wanted to go out there, but something also told her to stick close. Normally, the wolf parents would guide their young when it came to exploring the world.

She thought of the man, and wished he were there with them. She whined, her instincts telling her this was dangerous. She should stay in the den.

In the end, though, she pushed through the hole and followed her brothers.

 

SIXTEEN

Year One

Shadows were long, the day nearly done, when Calli stepped into the communal area of the settlement. She felt sore from mating with Urs, but the sensation, which had once given her a secret joy, held no comfort for her today. She was simply tired, looking forward to night and to sleep.

Albi approached her and Calli stiffened, realizing the council mother wanted a conversation. As she drew closer, Albi held out her thick arms for an embrace Calli hardly expected.

“My daughter,” Albi murmured.

Calli stood woodenly inside the hug. Albi's shoulders were ridiculously big, her bones solid and arms fleshy.

“I am happy for these developments,” Albi gushed warmly. “I have always thought of you as the smartest woman of all the Kindred, even at your age. With my help over the next five years, you will be a great council mother.”

“Plus,” Calli could not resist pointing out, “I will be married to your son.”

“Of course,” Albi replied, almost as if this were an afterthought. “That is the reason for my great happiness.”

“Why do you do this?” Calli asked. “Yes, there were birds squawking as they fluttered about, but none would dare to attack you in the nest. I know my name is often spoken as the next council mother, but I was not moving against you. You could have won without this marriage.”

Albi regarded Calli with shrewd eyes. “Yes, you see? The smartest one. Birds squawking, indeed.”

“Why?” Calli persisted.

“Well,” Albi said with a sigh, “you will understand when you are council mother. All the women support you and vote for you and then they turn on you. They hate what they have created. They become jealous and petulant. Everything you do, they see as wrong, or inadequate. They need a council mother, but they resent that need. The only way to maintain power is to manipulate circumstances. To think, in other words, in mists and shadows.”

“If they do not want you as council mother anymore, why cling to it?” Calli challenged.

Albi's look turned pitying. “You are, in so many ways, a child. You will understand someday. This is why it is a good thing we have five years, for me to teach you all you need to know.”

Gasps and murmurs caught their attention. Albi and Calli looked over toward the edge of camp, where someone was limping out from the deepening shadows.

Renne.

*   *   *

Silex watched as the unmarried women paraded past the men, who sat mostly cross-legged, each with a piece of reindeer bone cracked open to expose the juicy marrow. It was a ritual intended to mimic when the female wolves saucily waved their asses in the males' faces when it was time to mate, though in this dance courtship was far from predetermined.

The men pretended boredom, or to be more interested in good-naturedly shoving each other, but they were watching hungrily as the women sauntered around. The women were laughing behind their hands, tossing wildly enticing glances at the men before darting their eyes away.

It was good, Silex reflected, to indulge in this familiar ritual, to pretend everything was as it had always been, but the fact was that there were so few single women and so many men, it lent a brittle tension to the proceedings, threatening the very stability of the tribe.

His sister Ovi was in the line—the Wolfen recognized no formal couples until marriage, which often occurred quickly after a man and a woman declared for each other. But she was promised to Silex and so it was eyes-off for every man except Duro, who Silex noticed was staring at Ovi with unconcealed desire.

Ovi was oblivious. She did not seem to know why she was even there, and she walked as if her feet hurt. She did not seek Silex's eyes. Silex, on the other hand, was focused as intently as any lion. His eyes could not leave the brown legs, the rippling hair, the female curves underneath the garments, which were decorated with feathers that bewitched him.

Fia.
Silex could not imagine any man desiring a woman the way he craved Fia.

Fia caught Silex staring at her and laughed at him, taunting him, and his mouth went dry. Fia's parents both had the same curl to their hair, an exotic feature given to only a few of the Wolfen in any generation. Some found the difference unsightly, but Silex was bewitched by it.

A few men had stood, offering their marrow bones as enticement for a private conversation, but they were largely rejected. Too soon; the dance needed to play out more.

Silex could no longer wait. When he rose, all took notice—he was their leader. If he took Ovi aside now, it would be signal for the rest to pair off. Sometimes, after a dance such as this, there were weddings within mere days and children less than a year after that.

Ignoring Ovi, ignoring everyone, Silex walked up to Fia, who stared at him in shock, the laughter gone from her eyes.

“I wonder,” Silex offered formally, “if you would like to share this with me?”

*   *   *

Calli ran over to her friend Renne, who had obviously been attacked. Her nose was bleeding, her eyes were blackened, and a gash in her cheek pointed in a straight line to a wrecked mouth. Soon Bellu and Coco and everyone was there, all the women, crowding around Renne, touching her.

“What happened? Was it the Cohort?” Bellu cried fearfully. This, of course, was ridiculous. An encounter with the Valley Cohort and Renne would not be here.

“A bear?” someone else guessed.

The light was fading so quickly now that the women needed to pull Renne over to a fire to get a closer look at her. She went without resistance, the women gasping when they got a better view of her wounds.

“What happened to you, Renne?” Coco asked solicitously.

Renne did not answer. Instead, she stared with dark, unreadable intensity at Albi, who had come up to join the group.

Calli, looking back and forth between Renne and Albi, understanding, and it made her sick.
Albi had done this.

“We are all aware of how dangerous it is to go against the will of the women's council,” Albi observed quietly. “We are the hands that hold the Kindred together. The men hunt, but we make all the important decisions, and our decisions cannot, not ever, be ignored.”

Bellu turned a mystified look to Calli, clearly not understanding. Calli bit her lip. “You did this, Albi?”

“Night is falling. It is time to gather the children and call out to the men,” Albi said decisively, ignoring Calli.

No one moved. The women were rendered immobile by the implication of Calli's question. They glanced among themselves, horror written on their faces. They began to murmur quiet, shocked protests.

“Night,” Alibi insisted again, more forcefully.
“Now.”

Renne was not even looking at the council mother. Instead, her gaze was intent to her right, and Calli followed it.

Palloc had left the men's side and had wandered into the communal area. Drawn by the circle of women, he had approached them and their fire until he caught sight of the person standing in the middle. Renne, the blood still streaming down her chin, her one eye nearly swollen shut. Inhaling sharply, Palloc stood, stunned.

Renne lifted her hands to him, as if willing him to come another five paces and take her in his arms.

“Palloc,” she pleaded, weeping openly. “Palloc.”

Palloc turned away. Not meeting Renne's eyes, he began walking carefully over to the men's side of the settlement.

And then the rain came.

The first drop was followed instantly by thousands, a roar of it, the fires sizzling angrily under the assault. The drama of Renne's injuries was obliterated by the sudden storm.

Nearly as one, the Kindred cheered, because the rain would fill the water holes and the lumbering mammoths would come to drink and wallow, and there would be food for the winter. But all Palloc could think was that somehow, what he was doing was so wrong it had torn open the very sky, a shame bringing a downpour of celestial tears. In his mind he saw himself going to Renne, defying his mother, declaring his love for her. That was what he wanted to do.

But he did not.

*   *   *

For a wolf, a howl isn't just enticing—it's compelling, an imperative as strong as the urge to hunt, to feed. So when the she-wolf and Mate heard the ululating song of their old pack on the wind, the tantalizing cry stretched thin by the miles between them, they reacted by racing toward it, cutting fresh tracks in the shallow snow. They could hear in the howl the joy of a meal just eaten, but it wasn't the thought of food that drew them. It was the experience of mingling their voices with other wolves that they craved.

Enough time elapsed, as they ran, for the she-wolf to develop an unease. Smoke, the dominant bitch, would not welcome their trespass. For the first time since setting off on her own, the she-wolf was affected by the instinct-deep aversion to invading a larger pack's territory. They hadn't just gone for a day-hunt, they had voluntarily separated from the others. They would not be welcomed home—they would be attacked, perhaps even killed.

When the large female slowed, it had no effect on Mate. He was intoxicated, heedless, lusting for the pack. It was as if he had forgotten all that had transpired since the summer.

She slowed further, watching Mate's retreating back, waiting for him to sense that she was no longer right behind him. Though she could not calculate that her odds of surviving alone, at her age, were slim, her instincts told her she and Mate were a hunting pair and must remain together.

But Mate did not look back.

 

SEVENTEEN

Fia did not answer Silex when he proffered the glistening marrow, but she did not stay in the dance, either—she marched away, so that he was not at all sure what he should do. Follow her? Return and sit with the men and accept their good-natured jeers?

In the end he trotted after her like a little boy trying to catch up to his mother. Her eyes flashed angrily as he drew up alongside.

“Fia,” he said, his words sounding as rehearsed as they were, “I have known you for a long time. I have always appreciated your spirit, the way you…”

She whirled on him. Her face was flushed, breathtakingly beautiful. Her amazingly smooth skin—he wanted to put his lips to it.

Silex had spent many hours fantasizing about what would happen when he finally unveiled the secret, told this woman of his affections. Some of the more vivid imaginings were clouding his mind as she glared at him now, so close to him he could feel her passions as a heat. “And what,” she hissed, “did you suppose would happen
now
? That you would mount me? Because you are our leader, our dominant male?” Her contempt hardened her eyes.

“No, of course not.” Silex inhaled, trying to get his thoughts in order.

“Then what do you want from me?”

“I thought … we have always laughed together and I believed you probably knew how I felt about you.”

“But now you are promised to Ovi.”

“Yes, I know that is what my father wished, but he did not care what was inside me.”

“So? Why does that matter to me? It is decided.”

“Fia,” Silex pleaded. “Are you saying you have never felt anything for me?”

Her hot eyes lost some of their fury at his plaintive question. “You never said anything,” she finally answered.

“My father forbade it.”

“Forbade what?”

“For me to tell you how I felt, that I have loved only you since we were children. That I think of no one else, nothing else, but you, always you, eternally and forever you. That I cannot stand the thought of any other man with you, that I need you. I love you.”

She stared at him. Moments went by, Silex in agony. “Fia?” he finally asked timidly.

She lunged for him and kissed him desperately, nearly knocking him down. Silex's legs went weak, his head dizzy. They were both panting, grasping at each other, and then she pushed him away. “No!”

“Fia…”

“I cannot be this person. You tell me you love me, but you marry her!”

“I will not.”

She shook her head. “Oh no, you tell me that now because you want me to copulate with you, but you will marry Ovi, and you know it. It is what your father wanted, it is what the Wolfen want. Everyone agrees.”

“I do not love Ovi.”

BOOK: The Dog Master
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