Ratha and her treeling both fluffed their own fur, exchanging glances. Fessran had left one thing unsaid, which was how Ratha was going to keep the rumblers from disrupting tomorrow’s herding show. Well, she was clan leader, so she’d have to figure it out. She lowered her head and went to find the two mischief makers and their charges.
She discovered the culprits deeper in the forest, near the edge of clan ground. Both were sitting on their rumblers’ heads, Mishanti now on Grunt, Bundi on Belch. Everyone looked and smelled disgruntled. Belch was starting to destroy another tree crown. Mishanti looked startled when Ratha approached; Bundi just gave her a resigned look and flopped along Belch’s head, his paws dangling just behind the rumbler’s eyes.
“I’m not coming up,” Ratha said meaningfully.
“Glad you not Fessran,” Mishanti said, swatting his beast’s ear down with a forepaw. Grunt lowered his long neck. To Ratha, the rumbler’s motion looked like a tree falling. Her body wanted to skitter away, but her determination kept her still.
“I can get Fessran if you want,” she said through clenched teeth, eyeing Grunt.
“Oh, no, we fine without.”
At the edge of her vision, Ratha saw Bundi slide off Belch’s huge back and land without incident. Grunt conveyed Mishanti down to Ratha’s level, and the half-grown cub climbed off while the rumbler inspected Ratha. She could handle its mild gaze, and its breath wasn’t offensive, but when an unexpectedly long purple tongue extended and tried to lick her, she backed off, walking stiffly.
With a commanding wave of her tail, she beckoned Bundi and Mishanti over.
“I’m sorry, clan leader.” Bundi said, his eyes down. He dragged a claw along the ground. “It’s just that they really like us.”
“Lots,” added Mishanti. He peered up at Ratha, his head cocked to one side. “We in trouble? Two big troubles?”
“Are you going to have them culled or driven away?” Bundi asked, his scent tinged with sadness.
“Not if you help me keep them away from True-of-voice and his people.” Ratha replied, not saying that all of the Named together couldn’t drive off the beasts, much less cull them. “They follow you all the time, don’t they?”
Bundi waggled his whiskers in a yes.
“Well, if you stayed here with them during the herder’s display, that might work,” Ratha suggested.
“We’re supposed to be part of the show,” Bundi said.
“You don’t have to be.”
Bundi’s eyes widened. “But we want to be. You’re not going to swat us out, are you?”
“If that’s the only way to keep your creatures from destroying everything, I will. Unless you have another idea.”
“Trap them,” Mishanti said. “Tall canyon, pile big rocks.”
“Do you think that any rock pile we could make would be much more than a bunch of pebbles to them?” Bundi asked scornfully.
“I’m going to lay this prey right before you,” Ratha said. “I will not allow your rumblers to disrupt this display. It is too important both for us and True-of-voice’s people. If this means that you are both out of the show, then you are and that’s it.”
“Arrr,” Bundi and Mishanti grumbled together. Then Bundi stared at Mishanti. “Grunt and Belch will stay here even if there’s only one of us with them.”
“You, me, both in show,” Mishanti objected.
“Not together. You can be here while I do my herding part, then I’ll come replace you and you can go do yours.” Bundi turned to Ratha. “Clan leader, if you set things up so that I’m at the end and Mishanti is at the beginning, then we can do it. Please.”
“I can still make changes,” she said, noting the sudden urgency in his eyes. It is important to Bundi to join us in the show. He cares about it as much as he cares about the rumblers, a part of her whispered. “All right, I’ll do that, even if I have to argue with Fessran. Are you sure you can keep Grunt and Belch away? It will mean a lot of running back and forth.”
Mishanti grimaced. “Maybe you put us and rumblers in show. Then no running.”
“Good pounce, Mishanti, but no catch. Grunt and Belch have to stay here.”
“Then running. Bundi getting too fat anyway. Needs running.”
“I am not too fat,” Bundi exploded, diving at his partner. The brief flurry ended with Bundi sitting on top of Mishanti. Only the tip of the half-grown cub’s tail and the ends of his whiskers showed under Bundi’s paws and belly, but Mishanti’s defiance was still alive, although muffled. “Are too fat, too. Squishing me!”
“Enough cub-play!” Ratha snapped. “Don’t make me drive Grunt and Belch off with the Red Tongue!”
Bundi climbed off Mishanti, and both sat, suitably chastened. Ratha smoothed her fur.
“You two make sure that Grunt and Belch stay here. If you can’t, I’ll send Fessran out with the Firekeepers to enforce my orders. Am I understood?”
Two sets of whiskers waggled assent.
“I’ll see you tomorrow at the display,” Ratha said. “Assuming this idea works.”
“It will,” the two answered together.
As Ratha began to pad off in the direction from which she had come, she heard Bundi say, “Just because you’re a scrawny little river-crawler doesn’t mean— Ow, Mishanti! Yarrr, Belch, quit that … .”
Ratha quickened her steps. She had to get ready—she would be very busy tomorrow.
Chapter Four
The Named rose early and ate lightly. Ratha saw Bundi and Mishanti, who had stayed with their rumblers overnight, take turns at the meat, fish, and grouse meaclass="underline" one eating while the other made sure the rumblers stayed at the edge of clan ground.
Ratha, washing her face after lapping water from the creek, noted the efforts of the two. Maybe things would go well after all.
She hoped so, since she was certainly prepared to enjoy herself. She nose-touched with a freshly washed Bundi and sent him off to look after the rumblers. He would send Mishanti back, since the youngster had an early part in the herding show.
Both Thistle-chaser and Quiet Hunter would serve as interpreters, but they had also asked for a part in the show. Ratha knew what Quiet Hunter would do, since the lead herder, Cherfan, and Thakur had been giving him some instruction. Thistle, however, said she planned something a bit different than just a presentation of the beginner’s skills she had been learning.
Thistle and Quiet Hunter arrived well in advance of the main body of True-of-voice’s people. Thistle had her treeling, Biaree, as well as a short coil of vine rope.
Though Ratha, when she was young, had often imagined what her cubs would be like, she could never have predicted Thistle-chaser. Even Bone-chewer, Thistle’s Un-Named but gifted father, had often wondered aloud where the cub got her sea-green eyes, rust and black pelt, and wiry little body. Even the stunting Thistle endured after Ratha had injured her in a fit of disappointed fury could not completely account for her small size. The light in the eyes that the Named so valued had been late in coming. Ratha was too impatient and afraid that her mating with an Un-Named male had tainted her litter.
Now Thistle’s eyes, once clouded, shone with the Named gift. They glowed as if they were sunlight seen through green seawater.
Quiet Hunter, Thistle’s chosen mate from the face-tail hunting tribe, was a light dun with no special markings except muzzle-patches and brown tear-lines on his face. His honey-brown eyes and patient temper were a gift to the Named from his own people.
Anyone who saw Thistle-chaser and Quiet Hunter together would know that they had a special partnership, deeper than the usual attraction that drew mates to one another.
Thistle’s fur was clean and shining. Quiet Hunter had also obviously taken pains with his grooming; every hair was in place, and he smelled strong and sure.