Clan Ground (The Second Book of the Named) (15 page)

As he drew near, he swung away from his path and made a small detour that took him near the buried ashes of the bonfire. Again, Ratha could tell that he meant only to glance at the site and trot on, but suddenly he stopped, sniffed and wrinkled his nose. He paced across the ash-flecked soil until he smelled her mark, where she had watered the buried ashes. He grimaced and looked up at the sunning rock.

She felt uncomfortable at having given in to that earlier impulse. Now she had told Thakur, in a way that no words could, how she felt about the Firekeepers’ gathering.

“So you were there and you didn’t like it either,” he said at last.

Either? Ratha narrowed her eyes at him. She flicked her tail, indicating that he should jump up beside her. When he was there and settled, she said, “I see I wasn’t the only one who hid and watched.”

“I didn’t think a herder would be welcome in that group, and I was right,” Thakur answered. “You, clan leader?”

“I might have been welcomed, but my presence would have made Fessran think again about frightening those cubs the way she did.”

She could see that Thakur’s next words were chosen carefully. In a quiet voice, he said, “You can forbid another gathering like that.”

She stared at him in disbelief. “Forbid it? Just because Fessran built the fire too large and scared some of the cubs? They were too young for such a thing anyway.”

“Ratha, I know you well enough to tell how you feel about something. Your words may not tell me, but your mark on those buried ashes does.”

“Arr,”
she said, feeling foolish. “I was in a bad mood when I did that.”

“And Fessran had nothing to do with your bad
 
mood?”

“All right,” Ratha snapped. “She did. But let me tell you this: I may not like how she does things, but what she does works. She told me to make Shongshar a Firekeeper and she was right. We are no longer losing guard-fires because the Firekeepers are too timid. The herdbeasts are safer than they have ever been. That is what is important to me. Fessran has done well and I am not going to interfere with her, so you can dig a hole and bury that idea.”

She thought Thakur would lose patience with her, but he only twitched his ears back and then let them come forward again. His eyes held suppressed excitement, as if he had something to tell her but hadn’t found the opportunity until now. “Suppose I were to show you another way to master the Red Tongue, a way that doesn’t require that cubs have their whiskers singed in order to prove themselves.”

She looked at Thakur as he sat there with the treeling on his back. Aree added his gaze to Thakur’s and the combination of the two stares made her feel uncomfortable.

“You haven’t found such a way ... or have you?”

“Just follow me, clan leader,” he said and jumped down from the sunning rock.

Ratha didn’t catch up with him until he was halfway to the farthest guard-fire. She heard him mutter, “Good. Bira hasn’t given up on me yet,” and he sprinted ahead, leaving her behind once again.

By the time she arrived, he was speaking with Bira. The young Firekeeper gave a start when she saw Ratha and looked back at Thakur as if asking for reassurance.

“You can go,” he said. “Don’t worry. It’s all right.”

Ratha watched the yawning Firekeeper trot away, her tail swinging. She noticed that Bira had left Thakur plenty of wood, although the guard-fire was starting to burn low. The wood was in two piles: a large one, carelessly stacked, and a small one that looked like kindling laid for a new fire.

“She shouldn’t leave without kicking dirt on the guard-fire and burying the ashes,” Ratha said, with a disapproving glance after Bira.

“She knows her duty. I asked her to leave the fire for me. She does that for me every morning. Fessran doesn’t know,” he added.

“Hmph,” Ratha growled. “You should have asked her.”
 

Thakur ignored her. “All right, Aree,” he said to his tree-ling, “let’s show Ratha what you’ve been learning.”

She heard several clicking sounds and had no idea where they had come from until she saw Thakur’s jaw move slightly. Aree hopped down from the herding teacher’s shoulder and bounded over to the large woodpile. He selected a slender branch that he could hold in one paw and returned to Thakur.

He gave Ratha a grin. She glowered back at him, unimpressed. “All right. He can get wood. That will save the Firekeepers some work.”

Thakur clicked his teeth again and gave a soft hiss. Aree held up the branch and curled his ringed tail as if asking a question. The herding teacher snapped his jaws together again and Aree, to Ratha’s horror and amazement, scampered directly toward the fire.

Her legs acted as fast as her mind did. She was halfway to the treeling when she was suddenly flattened by someone pouncing on top of her. Only the knowledge that it was Thakur kept her from flipping onto her back and raking his belly, and even so she was tempted.

She tried to get up again, but he held her down. He was looking not at her, but at the treeling. “Go on, Aree. It’s all right. She didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“What are you trying to do? Make Aree jump into the Red Tongue?” she hissed.

“No. Watch,” said Thakur’s voice in her ear. When she stayed still, he got off her and stood alongside.

Aree approached the fire carefully and laid the stick among the coals. When the branch caught, the treeling pulled it out and held it up with the Red Tongue blossoming at the end. Gripping the branch with both paws, Aree shuffled over to Thakur and placed it between his open jaws. Gently Thakur closed his mouth, being careful of the little fingers near his teeth.

Ratha watched in amazement. It was not so much the act itself that drew her attention but the ease with which Aree performed it. It was evident to her at once that the treeling’s paws were much better suited to this task than the clumsy jowls of even the bravest Firekeeper.

Thakur growled deep in his throat and opened his jaws. Aree took the lighted brand and placed it back in the fire. Ratha began to get up.

“Wait. He’s not finished yet,” said Thakur. Again he clicked his teeth and again Aree scampered away to the woodpile. This time the treeling came bounding back on all fours, his ringed tail wound around another stick. He looked up and cocked his head at Thakur with solemn black eyes on each side of his banded muzzle.

“All right, you can do it that way if you want,” said Thakur good-naturedly, as if the treeling understood him. He clicked his teeth and made the same hiss as Ratha had heard before. The treeling went to the fire, took the stick from his tail into its paws, and lit the end as he had done before. He held up the small torch to Thakur. The herding teacher left his place and sat beside the pile of kindling.

The treeling inclined his head at him again. “Come on, Aree. I showed you how to do it,” he said, leaning forward to coax his companion. After some hesitation, Aree held the torch firmly and shuffled to the pile of kindling. He seemed a little confused about what to do next and Thakur bent down, nudging the treeling’s elbow with his nose.

Aree crouched in front of the kindling and poked the lighted brand between carefully laid sticks. The treeling took care not to disturb the arrangement and soon a second small fire was crackling happily beside the first.

Thakur made a purring sound. Aree’s eyes brightened and he dashed over to his teacher to receive a reward of licks and nuzzles. He scrambled up Thakur’s back and perched there happily, winding his long ringed tail around Thakur’s neck.

Ratha’s jaw hung open until the wind began to dry her tongue. At last she recovered her voice. “How did you teach him to do that?” she asked.

“The same way I have always taught the cubs herding. When they do something right, I praise them. When they don’t, I correct them, and when they are confused, I show them what to do by doing it myself. Aree was already curious about the Red Tongue and I encouraged him.”

“And you were careful to make sure he didn’t hurt himself. Even so, I didn’t know treelings could be so clever. You know that most of the Firekeepers can’t light a pile of kindling without knocking it flat. The Red Tongue dies and then they have to set the wood up all over again.”

Thakur began kicking dirt on the guard-fire and Ratha helped him bury the ashes. The second fire they knocked apart with their paws and scattered the smoking tinder.

“Well, clan leader?” he asked when they were done.

“Yes!” Ratha said eagerly. “Keep training him. I’ll tell Fessran to make you a nest for the fire-creature near your den.”

She thought that would please him, but instead a shadow passed across his face, darkening his green eyes. “I’d rather use Bira’s guard-fire,” he said.

“You don’t want to show Fessran what Aree can do?”

“No. Not yet,” Thakur said and quickly added, “Aree needs more teaching. You saw how I had to help him. He should be able to do it all himself.”

She suspected that he had another reason for wishing to delay, but she decided not to press him. Soon he left to teach his herding pupils and she went back to the sunning rock, feeling more at ease than she had all morning.

Ratha didn’t see Thakur again for several days, letting him have time to work with the treeling. She knew that the Firekeepers were planning another gathering and Fessran might repeat what she had done at the previous one.

She made sure she was atop the sunning rock early the next day when Thakur came trotting by with Aree on his back. This time she jumped down and went to him.

“Herding teacher, the Firekeepers are having another gathering soon. I want Fessran to see your treeling before she speaks to the cubs.”

She could sense his reluctance, but he finally answered, “Yes, you’re right. We should try it. Perhaps I’m wrong about her.”

Ratha wanted to ask more questions, but Thakur looked slightly impatient and Aree began to scratch himself.

“Meet me here tomorrow, after your herding pupils are gone,” she called after him. “I’ll bring Fessran and we’ll have the fire ready.”

He waved his tail in answer, but the look on his face told her he didn’t think they would have much success.

Arrr, he’s just being cautious as he often is,
she told herself.
I think Fessran will be pleased with Aree.

The Firekeeper leader arrived in the late afternoon. She brought some others with her, including Shongshar and her eldest son Nyang. Fessran was eager to learn what Ratha had to show them, but even her insistent questions couldn’t pry Ratha’s secret loose. After the Firekeepers had built the Red Tongue’s nest and set the tinder alight, she told them to sit and wait until Thakur came.

At last he padded into the long shadow of the sunning rock, tired, dusty and smelling strongly of herdbeasts. Some of the Firekeepers eyed the treeling and drew back their whiskers. It was not a promising start.

Despite the bad beginning, Ratha grew more hopeful as the demonstration progressed. She could see that the additional days of training had been well used. Aree performed better than he had when she’d seen him the first time. She could tell that the Firekeepers were impressed, but she also sensed hostility, as if they resented the treeling’s skill.

Shongshar sat next to Fessran, muttering things in her ear. Each time he spoke to her, the interested expression that had been on her face when Thakur began to show Aree’s skills faded a little more, until her expression was as wooden as the others’.

Ratha knew Thakur had anticipated this. He gave her a meaningful glance as he set Aree to laying out kindling for another fire. This task was not something she had seen before and she watched in fascination as the little paws placed each stick carefully against the others, making a perfect nest for the Red Tongue. Not once did the treeling drop a stick or knock the pile over. With Thakur’s careful guidance, Aree took a torch from the original fire and lit the new pile.

The Firekeepers’ eyes widened despite themselves. Even Shongshar looked impressed, although Ratha was sure he didn’t want to be.

Perhaps Aree also felt the challenge from the Firekeepers, for the next thing the treeling did was unexpected. Seizing a stick small enough to carry in one paw, Aree plunged one end in the fire, drew it out and galloped around the Firekeepers on three legs, carrying the Red Tongue. Thakur’s whiskers drooped in dismay and he chased after the treeling. That was exactly what Aree wanted. He scampered toward Thakur, leaped up on his back and rode him with the firebrand lifted high in both paws.

As soon as Thakur stopped, Aree bounced down from his back, tossed the firebrand back into the flames and swaggered back, his tail curled high, expecting the usual reward of licks and nuzzles. Ratha could see that Thakur had no choice but to praise the creature. The treeling’s antics were not what he had planned, but they were equally astonishing. The Firekeepers’ jaws hung open in amazement.

Shongshar, not Fessran, was the first to speak. “Your tree-ling is skilled, herding teacher,” he said, studying Aree closely. The treeling fluffed his fur at him and wound his tail tighter around Thakur’s neck. “Did you spend much time teaching him?” Shongshar asked.

“Yes, I did. Aree is clever and learns fast, but he took a lot of work.”