The Dog Master (25 page)

“Father, if I throw a spear and it does not hit anything, why does it fall down? Why does it not keep going until it strikes an animal or a tree?”

Silex pondered this one as they walked through the tall grasses to the fireside. “It is,” he finally replied, “as when a wolf gives chase to a young deer. If unable to take the prey in, the wolf will break off and lie down to rebuild its strength. Once a spear has found no target, it does the same, coming to earth so as to be ready to take flight again when needed.”

Cragg nodded, thoughtfully regarding the spear in his hand.

“Kindred!” someone hissed. “Over there!”

As one, the Wolfen instinctively ducked down. Silex looked in the direction the hunter was pointing and spotted them: about two hundred paces away, a group of perhaps fifteen Kindred men, their spears raised, were splaying out in a ragged line, standing rigid as they stared at Silex.

“Why have you come to our side of the river, Kindred?” Silex asked quietly. But he knew the answer. There had been so few rains, this odd, cool summer, that most game had vanished. Even from where he stood, the Kindred looked thin with hunger.

With this head start, Silex knew they could easily evade an attack—they were Wolfen, able to run faster and longer than any other creed, especially the lumbering Kindred. But they had Cragg with them—the boy would have to be carried.

His hunters all appeared terrified. “There is no reason to fear,” Silex said sternly. There was, but acknowledging the fact would only be as adding small sticks to a fire. He strode briskly to where everyone crouched, his eyes fixed on the Kindred, who had not moved. “We grab the food, our weapons, and Cragg, and run upriver. They will not pursue us very far,” he stated calmly.

“They are very close,” one of his men breathed.

“Steady,” Silex replied. “All is good.”

“I will lure them,” Denix blurted. Silex glanced at her but before he could even reply, Denix was up and running, holding her spear at her side. She was headed straight for the Kindred.

“Denix!” Silex yelled in frustration.

*   *   *

Dog was tall for his age, tall and lean, but Calli's three-year-old son was the opposite: he had big bones and his one good leg was oddly muscular, as if the spirits who had twisted his weak leg had given favor to the other.

It was time for the naming: all the children who had survived to their third summer would be given their legends, their formal names, and then, of course, their nicknames. When the hunt returned, the Kindred would all gather in the common area for a ritual that was nearly as joyous as the winter weddings.

When the hunt returned.
Calli sighed. Most married women greeted their husbands with relief and happiness, but when Palloc came home he never even acknowledged that Calli was there. The entire tribe was made tense by their arrangement, with him sleeping on the men's side like a bachelor. Since that day he had so brutally taken her three years ago, he had not touched her or spoken to her. When Dog went to see his father, the boy usually came back bitter and sullen: he, too, was part of the odd separation.

No man had ever done this—willingly left the bed of a young, fertile wife. There was no precedent and the women's council had never discussed what, if anything, should be done, because Albi would not allow the subject to be raised.

“The hunt should return soon, I hope they have found reindeer!” Calli said to Bellu.

“My son has been so sick,” Bellu replied glumly.

Calli nodded soberly. Bellu's own child, who had been fussy at the breast and who seemed to cry most nights, had been through a rough winter. He was often unable to keep his food down, and recently had fallen somehow, getting a weeping wound under his eye that had taken all summer to heal. “Is he well, now?” Calli asked politely.

Bellu wiped a tired hand on her brow. “I am doing all I can do for him,” she replied.

Calli searched for something to say. “Your mother must be excited for the naming.”

Ador would be busy: as the oldest living female in her big family, she would name Bellu's son, her son Mors's daughter, and her son Vent's male child.

Calli's son would, of course, be named by the oldest female in her family—Albi.

Every time I demand his death,
Albi's voice whispered in her head.

For three years Albi had made no such demand, to the point where the women's council had become accustomed to the uneasy truce between Calli and her mother-in-law. But Calli knew Albi had not given up—she was merely waiting for the right moment to raise the issue of the curse again, use it to tighten her control of the council, which was growing weary of Albi's mercurial temper and authoritarian rule. As far as they knew, this was the year when Calli would ascend to the leadership role—everyone had heard of the marriage bargain.

Albi, of course, would never let it come to a vote. But how far would she go to prevent it? And Calli's plan—would it work?

*   *   *

The Wolfen hunters were all motionless, staring in shock as Denix ran straight toward the Kindred hunting party. Silex needed to get them moving. “Go!” Silex barked, scooping up Cragg. They took off, while from behind there was a shout as the Kindred prepared themselves for what appeared to be a mad rush by a Wolfen. Silex risked a look over his shoulder and saw Denix hurl her spear.

She was so clever, Silex thought. Her throw was from too far away to land even close to the Kindred, but it galvanized them and, as one, they gave pursuit. Silex slowed to a pace that the Wolfen could maintain for half a day or more. “They have been drawn off,” he told his tribe.

The Kindred were led by a tall man, and Silex recognized him. It was the same Kindred who had tried to spear him near the stream less than five years ago. Now he wanted to do the same to Denix.
I will kill you someday, Kindred,
Silex vowed.

He watched Denix's retreating back, proud of how fast she could run. She truly was the most swift of all the Wolfen. The Kindred were too stupid to realize she was deliberately keeping her pace just slow enough for them to gain on her a little with every step, enticing them forward. Soon Silex and his group would be out of sight, and then Denix would increase her speed, while the Kindred grew breathless and exhausted.

It was precisely the maneuver he would have wanted, with just one problem: Denix was leading the Kindred hunters directly toward where they had last seen the great she-wolf.

 

TWENTY-NINE

The she-wolf had gorged herself lazy on the meat from the man. She was still lying in the summer grasses where she had fed, the sun keeping her drowsy. Back at the den, she knew her pups were playing under the watchful eye of Mate. Thanks to the man, she would furnish a meal for her five offspring, who would soon be old enough to travel with their parents and rejoin the pack. She and Mate were the dominant pair.

When she heard the odd running sound, the she-wolf leaped to her feet. Astoundingly, the female human from earlier in the day was dashing through the grass, while behind her in apparent pursuit was a ragged line of male humans, many with long sticks. They were coming almost directly at the she-wolf.

Naturally, her instinct was to flee, but instead she was arrested by the bizarre sight of this chase, something she could make no sense of. She could smell the humans now, even though they were downwind, and hear their harsh panting.

As the female human drew close the she-wolf began running, but instead of fleeing for safety, she veered over and burst through the grasses directly in the female human's path. Loping ahead of the woman, hearing her shocked gasp, the wolf for a moment felt as joyous as when she ran with Mate when they were juveniles. It was play; running with this human.

Denix almost stumbled in her surprise when the wolf appeared in front of her, scarcely ten paces away and matching her speed exactly. For a moment her pursuers were forgotten—all Denix could focus on was the beautiful, plush fur of the huge wolf, the gorgeous tail whipping in the wind. Denix was
running with a wolf.

Then, with a peek over her shoulder that looked somehow gleeful and sly, the she-wolf streaked off, disappearing at breathtaking speed.

Denix glanced behind her. The Kindred were tiring, but had managed to close the distance until she was nearly within spear range. Denix decided to follow the wolf's example and stepped up her pace: Silex and the rest of the Wolfen must be far away by now. She had successfully teased the would-be killers along until they were no longer a danger.

Denix ran on, not bothering to see if the Kindred were trying to keep up. They would fade back; no one could catch a running Wolfen.

Denix had run with the great she-wolf. This was something that would not seem real until she told Silex about it.

*   *   *

Whenever Silex and Fia came together as husband and wife, he clutched her to him, amazed each time that he might embrace such a woman. His hands trembled as he stroked her face and her breasts, feeling the heat of her skin, as if his palms had a special sensitivity. When they were finished he would gaze at her and marvel at her beauty—she was never more lovely to him than just after they had mated. Especially now, when she was swollen with his child.

“Such a nice way to finish the day,” Fia remarked, laughing softly.

“Oh yes.”

Fia rolled onto her side and raised herself a little, supporting her head on her hand, her elbow crooked. He mimicked her move, so that they were face-to-face. This was usually how they held their most intimate conversations, often after mating, and Silex sensed there was something important she wished to discuss.

“Why do you suppose the wolf ran with Denix?” she asked.

He was surprised at the topic—though the Wolfen had spoken about nothing else for days, Fia had remained rather aloof on the subject. “I do not know, but I believe it is a good thing.”

“Could it be, perhaps, that the wolf was trying to tell us something about our direction?”

“Our direction? That we should stay the path, perhaps?” Silex liked the idea.

“Or change, maybe. Maybe we need to change something.”

“Oh?”

“You have stopped bringing women on the hunt with us,” Fia pointed out.

“They all have young children, now. And nearly all the babies are boys.” If anything, this success only proved that Silex had led them in the right direction.

“No, there are women who are neither married nor have babies.”

“When I allowed women to hunt, the Wolfen needed something drastic to cling to, give hope for the future,” Silex pointed out. “But that was three years ago. Much has changed.”

“And now we have gone back to the old way, and a wolf appears on the path and leads Denix as she runs away from the Kindred, who also bar their women from the hunt. So the wolf is telling us to leave the Kindred's way behind.”

Silex marveled at the way his wife's mind worked. “None of this occurred to me,” he admitted.

“So we agree we should return immediately so that you can take the unmarried women out on the hunt,” Fia concluded.

Silex frowned. “Immediately…,” he repeated.

Fia sighed. “I must return, Silex. I, too, need a new path.”

“What are you saying, Fia?” he whispered, alarmed.

“Oh Husband, the look on your face!” Fia blurted, laughing. “What do you think I am saying, that I am tired of you? Especially now, when I carry your child? I only mean that twice before I have been pregnant, and both times I had a bloody and unformed discharge, not a baby. And both times I insisted on being with you on the hunt. This time must be different.”

Since Silex had suggested this very thing several times, he kept his expression neutral. “Of course,” he murmured.

“And Denix. I would like her to remain behind with me.”

This also surprised him. “What? Why?”

“Is it not clear that the wolf delivered the message to her, and not you, for a reason? She, too, must need to change course. She needs to remain behind. She can help Brach protect the women and children.”

Silex frowned over the idea of losing his best hunter. “I do not think—” he started to say.

“Silex!” Fia snapped, her eyes flashing. “Hear me on this!”

“I just do not understand,” Silex protested, dreading his wife's sudden anger but truly mystified.

Fia sighed. Her expression lost its heat and became caring and sympathetic. “Silex, you do not see how she looks at you.”

“Who? Denix?”

“Denix. She respects your marriage, but that is not what her heart desires, Silex. I do not want her out on the hunt with you if I am not there. The other women—I do not worry so much about them. They are all afraid of my wrath.”

Silex shook his head. “You are mistaken.”

Fia gave him a pitying smile. “Oh Silex,” she said softly. “So wise, so smart, and so completely oblivious.”

*   *   *

The hunt brought back meat, though not as much as all had hoped. Still, there was food, and the good spirits carried over to the gathering of all the Kindred for the naming.

It began with Ador, who picked her girl grandchild first. She told the Kindred that the girl was lucky, finding ripe berries on her first expedition, finding pretty flowers whenever she looked. That was her legend, and her long name, “She Always Will Be the First with Luck” was shortened to “Felka Novus.” The Kindred applauded as the little girl raised her hands in triumph.

Ador then gave Urs and Bellu's son a legend describing him as a boy who was always sickly and clumsy when young, but he had healed from his broken arm at age two, he had struggled back from many stomach illnesses, and he would grow to be a man of incredible health. Salus Masculus. He also raised his fists in the air.

The short forms of their names were intuitively obvious: they would call the girl Felka and the boy Salu. Vent's son would always be pushing his way out in front of others as they marched, so he was Markus Trudo. He mimicked his cousins, holding arms up in triumph. Markus.