The herders muttered among themselves and soon confirmed that Shoman was not helping to guard the remaining animals, nor was he anywhere else in the meadow. In fact, no one remembered having seen him since the middle of the night.
“And Bundi’s not here either,” said Thakur abruptly.
“There’s something else I don’t understand.” Cherfan narrowed his eyes. “We keep the dapplebacks out in the center of the meadow during the night. We don’t let them go behind these bushes; it’s too easy for them to wander away. If someone killed a mare here, he would have had to drive it away from the flock and the beast would have fought and made enough noise to bring all of us running.”
“Unless it was lured here by someone it knew,” said Ratha.
“All right. The dappleback may have been lured here and then killed, but none of us heard it scream. A dappleback will cry out when it feels the touch of fangs.”
“Not if there are a pair of attackers,” Thakur said quickly. “One lures the beast while the other hides. When the beast is distracted, the other leaps out and bites behind the head. The creature dies quickly and quietly. I’ve used the same method in culling.”
Cherfan wrinkled the fur on his brow. “Shoman … and Bundi? Perhaps Shoman would do such a thing. I’ve never trusted him. But Bundi?”
“I caught Shoman with a piece of meat he was using to bribe a Firekeeper,” Ratha reminded him. “Bundi was with him. He said they were both being shunned by the rest of you because of their injuries from the Red Tongue.”
“Shoman killed that dappleback to revenge himself on us?” Cherfan’s puzzlement began to give way to anger.
“Not for revenge,” said Ratha. “I think he was forced to lure it here and kill it.”
“Forced? By whom? And where is the meat? He and Bundi couldn’t have eaten it by themselves.”
Ratha glanced at Thakur, then turned her gaze back to Cherfan. “You will find the carcass in the cave where the Red Tongue is kept.”
A wave of mutters and growls spread through the herders. Some looked uncertain while others raised the fur on their napes and showed their fangs. Cherfan flattened his ears. “You’re saying that Shoman killed the beast for Shongshar and Fessran? Why?”
“Because he and Bundi were made outcasts by the Red Tongue’s mark and sought to placate the Firekeepers by any way possible. Shongshar knew his desperation and used him,” Ratha hissed.
A wave of muttering and growling spread among the herders. Cherfan flattened his ears. “No one is allowed to kill herdbeasts without your order.”
“And I did not order anyone to take that animal,” said Ratha, staring meaningfully at the other herders. “Shongshar and Fessran have disobeyed me and clan law. The carcass is stolen meat and they have no right to it. If the Firekeepers are left unpunished, they will steal again and the rest of us will go hungry.” She paused and then growled, “Do you want to hear your bellies rumble because of the Firekeepers’ greed?”
“No!” came the answer in many voices. “Lead us to the cave and we will take back the stolen meat.”
“Listen to me,” cried Ratha. “It is the Red Tongue in the cave that gives the Firekeepers their strength. They have stored wood there to feed it. If we take back the wood as well as the meat, the cave-fire will starve and die.”
“We will take back what they have stolen!”
“You do not fear the Firekeepers?”
A chorus of roars and howls rose from the group. “There are more of us than there are of them. To the cave!”
With Thakur and Cherfan flanking her, Ratha led the outraged herders up the creek trail. At first the group was boisterous and noisy, but as they drew close enough to hear the song of the Red Tongue, they became quiet. Uncertain looks passed back and forth among the herders and Ratha knew that the sense of awe that subdued those who came before the fire-creature was creeping over them again.
Thakur could sense it too, for he put his muzzle to her ear and whispered, “Don’t hesitate, Ratha, or these brave herders will desert us.”
She was grateful for the smell of dappleback meat that lingered in the air along the path. The scent fanned the herders’ anger anew and kept them pacing steadily behind her. When they reached the last stretch of the trail, Ratha whispered her final instructions.
With a roar as loud as the booming of the falls, her pack charged the cave entrance and the two Firekeeper guards. The guards tried to fight, but only managed to avoid being trampled as the herders knocked them aside and surged into the cave.
Again the fire-creature rose up before her, writhing and hissing like a live thing, but this time, Ratha was too angry to be cowed by the sight. She looked beyond the fire to where a group of Firekeepers pulled and tore at a half-stripped carcass. Nyang lifted his head, his muzzle ash-streaked and bloody. Fessran dropped the haunch she was chewing and stood up while the others glared back at Ratha over the bared ribs of the kill.
Only Shongshar continued to eat, holding a chunk of liver between his paws and slicing it with his side teeth. Ratha could hear muffled growls among the herders, but none of them came forward to challenge the Firekeepers at their feast. Many of them glanced uneasily at the Red Tongue in the center of the cave, as if expecting it to leap out and sear the first herder who made a move.
Ratha turned her gaze to Fessran. Fessran stared back haughtily, but a flicker of guilt crossed her face. “This meat is forbidden,” Ratha said in a voice that echoed around the walls of the cavern. “Leave it.”
Some of the Firekeepers exchanged glances and a few backed away from the kill.
“No!” Fessran leaped over the carcass and stood before it, lashing her tail. “We who serve the Red Tongue have taken what is rightfully ours. Eat without shame, Firekeepers, for it is the creature that we tend that guards the herd from raiders.”
“Yes, Fessran. Tell them to eat without shame from a beast killed wrongly and dragged to a cave in secret,” Ratha snarled.
“When those who keep the herdbeasts hold back meat from us who watch the guard-fires, then we have a right to such a kill,” cried Nyang, from behind Fessran.
“Ptahh! All in the clan have an equal chance to fill their bellies when the kill is eaten where it falls. Anything else is greed or arrogance, litterling.” Ratha glared at Nyang, but he ducked behind Fessran.
“What you think is equal, clan leader, is not enough for us,” Fessran said. “Serving the Red Tongue is difficult work, and it is a long way to the meadow.”
Ratha spat again. “You shame yourself by speaking lies you don’t even believe, Firekeeper leader. You know as well as I that to steal and hoard meat from a kill is an act that strikes out against the clan and my leadership.” She met their stares one by one until she fixed her eyes on Fessran. “Who ordered that herdbeast to be taken without my knowledge. Was it you, Fessran?”
“The beast was killed by herders.” The Firekeeper leader spoke sullenly.
“Yes, by a pair of herders who were told that they had to lure the beast and slaughter it in return for being allowed to enter this cave. In return for being allowed to crouch before the creature that I brought to serve the Named, but which now has birthed a litter that feeds from us like cubs from their mother.”
“You dare!” Fessran’s eyes were blazing. “You dare to speak of us that way. We serve the power of the Red Tongue, clan leader, and that power answers to none except itself!”
Ratha waited until the echoes of Fessran’s voice had faded into the hollow roar of the cave-fire. “Are those words your own, Firekeeper?” she asked with bitter sorrow thick in her throat. “Did you force Shoman and Bundi to make that kill?”
Fessran tried to answer, but the word would not leave her tongue. She stood, shaking, staring down at the floor between her feet.
“I did. I did!” screamed Nyang, lunging over the kill to face Ratha. His face, stained with blood and distorted by hate, was no longer that of an older cub but of someone filled with menace and malevolence.