Clan Ground (The Second Book of the Named)

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.

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.”

“Why did you choose to teach a treeling instead of teaching clubs?”

Ratha saw Thakur hesitate. “I teach cubs herding. I am not a Firekeeper,” he said. “I taught Aree because he has a special ability that the cubs do not have. His paws are different from ours: they are made to grasp the limbs of trees as he climbs. He is not as clumsy as the cubs. He doesn’t knock things over.”

“The cubs understand what they do when they serve the Red Tongue,” said Shongshar softly. “Does your treeling?”

“No,” Thakur admitted. “He understands only the actions necessary to care for it.”

“He does not share the feelings that we have for the fire-creature. He does not know its strength and its power.”

“No,” the herding teacher replied, his green eyes glowing angrily. “How can you expect a treeling to understand such things? There is no need for him to understand. He just does what you tell him.”

“Then he is an animal, like the dapplebacks and three-horns,” said Shongshar with a hiss in his voice and a gold glitter in his eyes. “He is witless, like my cubs that you and Ratha took from clan ground. Is an animal to serve the Red Tongue?”

Ratha felt her own eyes narrow and her nape rise. “Enough, Shongshar! It is Fessran I would hear, not you.”

The Firekeeper leader lifted her chin and eyed Ratha coolly. “Clan leader, I share many of Shongshar’s feelings. You know better than I how fiercely we fought for the Red Tongue in the days when Meoran ruled the Named.”

“Yes, you ran with me then and your feelings were your own,” growled Ratha. She regretted her words as they left her tongue, for Fessran flinched visibly and her amber eyes took on some of the same hard glitter as Shongshar’s.

“The treeling’s skill is impressive,” she said. “However, I do have some questions. You have only one treeling and there are many Firekeepers. Do you intend to catch more treelings and train them in the same way?”

Thakur looked at Ratha. “I hadn’t thought about that. I got Aree by accident. He was injured when I found him. It may be difficult to catch others.”

“If we accepted Aree and let him do the difficult tasks for us, we would no longer try to do them for ourselves,” Fessran pointed out. “What would happen then if the treeling were to run away or get killed?”

Thakur had come to sit beside Ratha and she felt him tense at Fessran’s words. “I don’t think Aree is going to run away and I am certainly not going to let anyone kill him.” He glared back at the Firekeepers.

Ratha decided it was time to interrupt. “There will be no talk of killing,” she snapped. “Thakur has offered to share his treeling’s ability and you should be grateful.”

“Clan leader, we did not mean to offend either you or Thakur,” said Fessran. “We think that the treeling’s skill is valuable, but there are some problems. After all, Thakur did not know what the creature would do when he snatched up a torch and began running around us. I think you would agree that more training is needed before the treeling can really be trusted.”

Ratha tried to control her temper. Fessran might be irritating, but she had made some points. Aree’s last display showed that the treeling was still unpredictable, and there remained the problem that there was only one of the creatures. Nonetheless, Ratha was pleased with Thakur for trying to jolt the Firekeepers out of their complacency.

“All right,” she said at last. “Thakur, you are to continue teaching Aree. To make things easier for you, Fessran will assign a Firekeeper to build and tend a fire near your den. Do you both agree?”

Fessran glanced at Shongshar and looked uncomfortable. “Is there anyone you would like?” she asked Thakur.

“If you could spare Bira, I wouldn’t mind working with her,” Thakur answered.

He stayed beside Ratha as the Firekeepers put out their fire and left. He smoothed his ruffled fur with short angry strokes of his tongue.

“Fessran will let you have Bira,” Ratha said as the dusk closed around them.

“She may. I wonder what else she’ll do.”

Ratha looked at him sharply, but he was only an outline and two eyes in the growing darkness. “She will do as I tell her as long as I am clan leader.”

He sighed. “I wish you hadn’t put it that way,” he said softly and padded away with his treeling on his back.

During the next few mornings Ratha visited Thakur at his den to be sure Fessran was doing what had been promised. Each time she went, she found Bira there along with a well-made little fire and a stack of wood that was always kept full. The young Firekeeper seemed to enjoy watching Thakur teach Aree. Ratha watched her carefully for signs of the same hostility that other Firekeepers had shown, but there were none.

Aree’s instruction was progressing well. The treeling seemed to understand that capricious actions, such as those he had performed in front of the Firekeepers, were not acceptable and would result in a scolding. Thakur reported that Aree had become more obedient, and she could see for herself that the herding teacher had managed to accomplish this without breaking the creature’s spirit. Every once in a while Aree looked at Thakur with a mischievous glint in his eyes, but the treeling took his task seriously and never deliberately disobeyed.

Ratha watched and felt encouraged. Soon Thakur would be able to show Aree to the Firekeepers again, and they would be unable to find any fault with the treeling’s performance. Perhaps she and Thakur could also devise a way to capture more treelings. Aree might be able to lure another one down from the branches. If the captured treeling was a female, she might bear young. Or Thakur might climb one of the fruit trees with Aree and look for a treeling nest that might shelter young ones. If they could find and train more of the creatures, Fessran might be willing to accept the idea.

She made her plans carefully as she rested in her den or lay atop the sunning rock. Each morning she asked Thakur whether Aree was ready. The last time, instead of saying no, he had told her to assemble the entire clan on the following day. This was something for everyone to see, he said. Not just Firekeepers.

On the evening before the assembly was to take place, Ratha visited him to be sure he was prepared. She came just before sunset and was only halfway to his den when she heard someone running toward her on the path. Thakur galloped up to her, his whiskers trembling and his fur on end.

“Aree’s gone, Ratha!” he gasped.

Disbelief shot through her. “What? He can’t be. You never leave him alone.”

“I did. Just for a little while. I left him curled up in my den. I had to get some wood; Bira let the woodpile get low. Thornwood is best, but I can’t get into a thicket with Aree on my back, so I left him.”

“How long ago?” She began to pace beside him.

“I had just come back from teaching my herding pupils. I left Aree in my den, went to get wood, and when I came back I couldn’t find him. I looked everywhere,” he added mournfully.

“Did you try to track him?”

“Yes, but there was such a smoky smell in the air that I couldn’t follow his scent.”

They reached his den. Ratha trotted over to the ashy bed where the teaching fire usually burned. She lifted her nose and sniffed. Thakur certainly was right: the air was too acrid to detect the treeling’s scent. Carefully she pawed the dirt and cinders. If the fire had been burning recently, they would still be hot. They weren’t.

Then why did the whole place smell like someone had been throwing ashes around, she wondered.

“Where’s Bira?” she asked, suddenly.

“She’s not here. She only helps me in the mornings. I thought I’d build a fire myself and then get a Firekeeper to light it.”

Ratha glanced up at the few trees that stood about the den. Their branches were outlined against the red and gray sunset, but she saw nothing on them that looked like the hunched form of a treeling. She helped Thakur look through the bushes, but neither one of them found anything.

The wind had begun to stir, blowing away the acrid smell in the air, but Aree’s scent had faded too. The treeling was gone and there was nothing either one of them could do about it.

Thakur crawled into his den and laid his head on his paws. “It’s my fault,” he moaned. “I shouldn’t have left him alone. Aree, wherever you are, please come back. I miss you.”

“Thakur,” Ratha said softly, “I have to go and tell everyone that the gathering won’t happen tomorrow.”

“Tell the mothers they can keep their cubs for the day,” Thakur growled. “I don’t feel like teaching. I may be doing some other things, such as asking a lot of questions. Maybe I should start now.” He raised himself up and started to crawl out of the den, but Ratha put a paw on his back.

“No,” she said. “You stay here. If there are any questions to ask, I will ask them and I will bring you the answers.”

“I suppose you can get better ones than I can.” Thakur laid his head on his paws again.

His dejection and the misery in his voice made Ratha hot with indignant anger. Whoever had taken the treeling or driven it away had done more than deprive Thakur of a companion. They had stolen his hope and wounded him badly.

She licked him gently on the forehead, trying to comfort him in his grief and anger. At last he fell into a troubled sleep and she left, resolving that she would either find Aree or have her revenge on whoever had stolen the treeling.