Nyang smelled the meat, looked to either side to be sure no one else was watching and then fastened his jaws in it. Ratha let him eat half before she left her hiding place and stepped out onto the trail. At the sound of her footsteps, Nyang started and the other two whirled around.
“That meat is forbidden, Firekeeper,” Ratha said, lowering her head as the hair rose on the nape of her neck. Nyang tried to gulp down the rest of it, but he choked and dropped it as she showed her fangs at him. She turned to Bundi, who could not answer her accusing stare.
“The meat is mine,” Shoman said in a harsh voice. “It is from my share.”
“You know as well as I do that we eat from the carcass where it lies,” said Ratha fiercely. “Your share or not, it is stolen, and I will not tolerate such a shameful thing among my people.”
He looked back at her, half-ashamed, half-defiant. “Do you allow a good herder to be shunned and spat on just because he bears the scars from an accident that was not his fault? I am speaking of Bundi, clan leader, not myself.”
“What good would it do him to enter this cave?” Ratha asked. “The Red Tongue does not heal its own wounds.”
“It can heal the wounds that are made by malicious words. If Bundi and I enter the cave as if to seek forgiveness and emerge unharmed, and if this news is spread among the other herders, then we will not be treated as outcasts.”
Ratha wanted to ask why they had not come to Cherfan or to her, but another thought stilled her question. If Shoman had come to her, she could have ordered that all who were shunning him and Bundi stop doing so, but while she might have put an end to their acts, she could not have changed the feelings that showed in their eyes. Shoman had taken the only action he could, despite the risk. He had done it for Bundi as well as himself, and that made Ratha respect him.
“All right,” she said at last. “Nyang, take them into the cave.” With a last hungry look at the meat, the Firekeeper led the two herders in.
She picked up the remains of the meat, holding it with the tips of her fangs as if the taste was rancid. She pushed past the other Firekeeper guard, who had been watching in astonishment, and entered the low gallery that led into the cave.
She halted in the flickering shadows to watch Shoman and Bundi approach the fire. Shoman stood still, but Bundi crouched before the flame, ducking his head so low that his whiskers swept the ground.
Beyond them, on a ledge in the darkness at the rear of the cave, sat Shongshar and behind him Fessran. Their eyes were fixed on Bundi and they seemed to brighten as the young herder raised his chin as if to bare his throat.
Ratha leaped over a row of stone fangs and began to walk purposefully toward the ledge at the rear of the cave. Bundi halted in his supplication and crept away from the fire. If he had ignored her and bared his throat to the fire-creature, she knew she would have filled the cave with her roar, but she stayed silent and set her feet quietly.
Her path took her past the two herders. She stopped briefly, narrowing her eyes against the firelight and said, “Go now. I will make sure the others learn that you are no longer to be shunned.”
When the two were gone, Ratha continued her walk toward the rear of the cave.
“Why do you enter the Red Tongue’s den without permission from the ones who guard it?” Fessran’s voice came from the ledge, sounding hollow and threatening, yet there was also an edge of fear in her words.
“Because I am the one who tamed the creature for you, Firekeeper,” Ratha answered, looking up at the two on the ledge. “And I am growing tired of these cub-games. Call Nyang here.”
“My son? What has he done to offend the clan leader?”
Ratha had dropped the meat she carried in order to speak clearly. Now she picked it up and tossed it in front of the ledge. Both Fessran and Shongshar came to the edge of their perch and peered down, smelling the raw flesh. Shongshar fixed his eyes on Ratha.
“Your son accepted that meat from the two herders who wished to enter the cave. It was stolen from a clan kill,” she said.
“Then punish the herders,” Shongshar growled. “It is they who have done wrong.” Fessran’s eyes grew wide.
“It is also wrong to accept meat that has been stolen or to demand it in return for allowing in herders who would otherwise be unwelcome,” Ratha hissed.
“I think you misunderstand the intent of the herders, clan leader,” said Shongshar easily as he draped himself along the edge. The gesture was casual, but she could read the intent in his half-veiled eyes. He was larger and more powerful than she remembered and the shadows gave his orange eyes a strange hidden malevolence. She knew he saw how her eyes traveled along his body, registering his bulk and the powerful muscles of his neck and forelegs.
He shifted himself again and continued, “It is a long way down to the meadow, and some of us do not get the chance to eat as much as those who stay near the kills. If the herders try to even things out by bringing us some meat, I see nothing wrong with it.”
“Nyang is always hungry,” said Fessran, trying to sound motherly and indulgent. “He’ll eat anything without thinking about where it came from.”
“It is my responsibility to see that everyone has an equal share of a kill. Nyang gets no less than his share and frequently tries to take from others. There is no need for the herders to bring you meat. If you think this cave is too far from the meadow, move your wood somewhere else.”
Fessran glanced at Shongshar, but although he was aware of her gaze, Ratha noticed he did not look back at her. “I’ll talk to Nyang,” Fessran said at last.
“You should talk to all your Firekeepers. Before I leave, let me remind you that I will not permit anyone to steal from a carcass or accept meat that has been stolen.” She turned to leave and then looked back over her shoulder. “If I find that this has happened again, I will have this fire killed and the wood moved somewhere else. Do you understand me? Good.”
She whirled around, trotted across the cave floor, down the gallery and out into the sunlight. She felt cleansed by her anger and pleased that she had finally confronted this thing that had been festering in her mind like the canker made by a tick burrowing into her flesh. She felt as though she had found it and nipped it out. But she knew as she traveled down the trail in the hazy sunlight of late afternoon that she hadn’t yet gotten all of it.
Chapter Fifteen
The herders continued to visit the Red Tongue’s cave. Some did so openly; others were ashamed and furtive, sneaking up the trail through the shadows. Ratha knew she could do nothing to stop them, but she kept a careful watch to see that no meat was taken. Once or twice, she had read that intention in someone’s eyes as they sank their teeth into a haunch of three-horn, but her look and the slight lift of her lip as she growled quickly dissuaded them.
Her suspicion and the growing ascendancy of the Firekeepers over the herders poisoned the rough-and-tumble yet good-natured competition for places about a culled herdbeast. Ratha made sure that everyone received an adequate share, and there was in fact less inequality than there had been before. But everyone ate in a tense silence, punctuated only by the sound of tearing flesh. Ratha found herself eating less, for the atmosphere around a kill made the meat seem to taste rancid and stick in her throat. Even the cubs were subdued; they rarely dived in to snatch a piece of meat as they had done before. Perhaps they had learned that such antics could result in a fierce bite or scratch rather than an easygoing cuff.