Side-by-side, they set off for the gathering. Part of the way there, Thistle stopped, flipping her tail back and forth. Ratha recognized indecision. “Something else troubles you?”
“Think you would be mad at me. For saying that True-of-voice should show you what his hunters could do. Teased you. Shouldn’t have. Made fawn die. Sorry.”
“I was angry at you,” Ratha said as the two paced together. “Maybe I still am, a little.”
“Can understand that. I should think more before pouncing. Not make so many Thistle-messes.”
“We caught something out of that incident, as much as I don’t want to admit it.”
Thistle crooked her tail, looking up in puzzlement.
“We would have found out about the song’s ‘blindness’ later, perhaps after we’d given True’s people the use of fire. I prefer to know it now.”
Chapter Eight
Instead of sitting on the sunning rock, Ratha decided to take her seat on the lower outcrop nearby. This morning she wanted to be with, not above, her people. The clan, who had arrived, settled around the outcrop. Thistle fell behind Ratha as mother and daughter approached the gathering.
“No, stay at my side,” Ratha commanded.
As the rising sun chased off the dew, the Named made way for Ratha and Thistle. Ratha caught looks of mild surprise mingled with approval. She was pleased that Thistle had earned the right to walk in honor beside her mother. The clan surged around the pair, rubbing foreheads and licking faces. All the Named were there except for Mishanti who was looking after the rumblers, and Fessran’s older daughter Chikka, who was minding the small cubs in the nursery.
Ratha draped herself across the outcrop with Thistle beside her. She began slowly, almost softly. “What happened at the gathering yesterday is troubling. It will affect our decision whether or not to share the Red Tongue with True-of-voice’s people.”
She looked across at Fessran, who sat with Bira by her side and the Firekeepers around her. Then Ratha’s gaze went to Thakur, with Ashon and the other herding students, and then to Cherfan and the working herders. Bringing her gaze back to the Firekeepers, Ratha said, “Fessran, I’d like to hear from you first. When the black hunter killed the fawn, you were furious. Has this changed your feeling about sharing the Red Tongue?”
“No it has not, clan leader. Even though Thakur had to sit on me to keep me from shredding that belly-biting killer, I still believe that my Firekeepers can safely share the Red Tongue with them.”
“How can we prevent what happened yesterday?” Cherfan asked gruffly. “Yes, this time it was a fawn, but next time it might be a grown three-horn, a striper, or—”
“The mistake yesterday,” the sandy-furred Firekeeper leader interrupted, “was not in showing our herding skills. It was in letting a hunter actually get his claws on our herdbeast. This will not happen with the Red Tongue if only Firekeepers tend the flame.”
Ratha saw heads turning to exchange looks. Fessran had obviously made a strong point. “Bira,” she said, pointing with her nose at the ruddy-gold young female whose plumed tail curled around her feet. “You did well yesterday when you prevented a fight. What do you think?”
“If we place several Firekeepers at each campfire to prevent anyone from meddling with it, I will agree with Fessran. Quiet Hunter has spoken about the litterlings shivering in the wind. I feel it would be wrong not to help them,” Bira replied.
“Can the Firekeepers keep the campfire safe?” The question came from Mondir. Beside him, Khushi, Fessran’s son and also a herder, lifted his whiskers in support.
Hazel-eyed Drani had a suggestion. “If we keep the Red Tongue on clan land and bring the other tribe’s small cubs here …”
Before Ratha could stop Fessran, the Firekeeper leader snorted. “Haven’t you had enough of carrying our own litterlings around, Drani? The fur between my teeth makes everything I eat taste like cub hair.”
“Besides,” added Bira, “would the hunter cubs’ mothers allow us anywhere near them?”
“Then their mothers can bring them,” said Drani, refusing to back down.
Bira gazed at Fessran, “That’s not a bad idea.”
“Not all mothers will,” said Quiet Hunter softly. “If you make it harder, fewer will use it. Cubs will still shiver.”
Ratha swiveled her ears as they spoke, taking in all the opinions. She agreed with Bira. Letting the face-tail hunting tribe come to the Red Tongue on clan ground would be safer. Should they even allow that? Her eyes sought Thakur, who, so far, had said little.
“Herding teacher?” she asked.
Thakur sat up a little straighter. “I often take a longer view on things. Basically, we have only two choices. We either share your creature with the face-tail hunters, or we deny it. If we decide to share, we must know the risks and prepare for them. There is no halfway point.”
Again Ratha saw heads turning, eyes meeting. She showed her teeth slightly to quell any interruptions.
“If we don’t share, we must accept what the decision means,” Thakur continued. “This hunter tribe has a strong will. If they want the Red Tongue enough, they will take it. The only way to prevent this is to separate completely from them.”
Ratha felt her jaw drop a little. Thakur usually wasn’t one to claw such sharp lines. He also, however, wasn’t one to avoid facing the uncomfortable or unpleasant.
“This is not a taste I savor,” she heard Thakur say. “We would either seek a new home for ourselves and our herds or use the Red Tongue to keep the hunters away.” He turned his gaze to Thistle-chaser and Quiet Hunter. “Such a choice would be hard, especially for the two who just came to us.”
“You would chase the hunters away with the Red Tongue?” Fessran asked. “That is not like you, Thakur.”
“I didn’t say that,” the herding teacher answered patiently. “Only if we choose that branch of the trail, we must follow it.”
Ratha waited while Thakur gathered his thoughts to continue. Her glance fell on Bira, who looked as if she needed to speak. “Thakur, can you wait to finish? Bira has something.”
Thakur agreed and the young Firekeeper stood up, tail down in a gentle curve, whiskers, fanning out. Sometimes Ratha envied Bira’s even temper. “Why do you think that the answer only lies on one side of a clawed line?” Bira asked Thakur. “Keeping the Red Tongue here while letting the hunters warm their cubs is being careful.”
“True, but it is still a choice to share. You are right: doing so might reduce the risks, but risks are like fleas, they never go away entirely.”
And sometimes they bite you when and where you least expect it, Ratha thought.
“I also think we should let Thistle and Quiet Hunter speak,” said Bira calmly. “If we do choose to separate from the hunters, it will affect them the most.”
Quiet Hunter also rose, his ear tips trembling. “This one would … I would … do all I could to persuade True-of-voice not to do wrong with the clan’s gift. If the two tribes must be apart, Thistle and I would suffer.”
“Drani’s idea is good one,” said Thistle when it was her turn to speak. “Would be even more careful, though. Maybe start slowly with hunters coming to just one Red-Tongue-nest on clan land. And all Firekeepers watching it.”
“Then later, if it works, two,” said Fessran, her tail tip flicking in growing excitement. “I’m willing to start very slowly and to pull back if needed.”
“Isn’t this really the clan leader’s decision?” asked Mondir, glancing at all the others, then at Ratha. “I mean, she can listen to us, but she has to choose.”
“Yes, you have given me that responsibility,” Ratha answered him. “But this is so important, I’d like to see the clan agree as much as you can. If you can’t, I will make the choice.”