back and forth on the edge of the sunning rock. “If we allow him to take a mate from among us, he must present the cubs he sires to the rest of us so we can see whether they have the light of the Named in their eyes.”
“I will be glad if they do,” Thakur said. “What will happen if they don’t?”
Ratha took a breath and halted her pacing. “If we judge them fit to raise in the clan, he and his mate will keep them. If not, the young ones must be taken far from clan ground and abandoned.”
She crouched on the edge of the rock and stared down at the silvercoat. “You, who would be Named, do you understand?”
“Orange-eyes must show his cubs to the clan and do what the leader says.”
“Yes. If you agree to that and bare your throat to the Red Tongue, I will accept you.”
The meeting erupted again as those who favored and opposed the silvercoat both made their opinions known. Triumphant roars and angry hisses filled the air. The emotions battered at Ratha, throwing her back. She leaped up, adding her voice to the tumult. “Be silent, all of you! The decision is mine and I have made it.”
The meeting quieted, but an undercurrent of muttering continued. She leaped down and stood before the gathering. “Are you ready?” Ratha asked the Un-Named One. “Then come to the sunning rock.”
She ordered two torchbearers to stand on either side while Fessran lighted another brand and brought it to her. Before she took it between her jaws she lifted her muzzle. “Crouch and bare your throat.” A sudden fear jumped in his eyes and she knew he remembered the dance-hunt. The clan watched, waiting. If his will failed him now, both he and she would lose.
She lifted the torch high. He took his place as she bid and lifted his chin, turning his head so that she could see the pulse beat in his throat beneath the fur.
“Now to them,” she said, around the branch in her teeth. Obediently he turned and bared his throat to the clan. The sight of his submission seemed to calm the group. He prolonged his awkward crouch with his head strained up until Ratha told him to rise. She flung her torch back into the fire.
“Stand before the clan ... Shongshar!” she cried. “Let the Named greet their new lair-brother.”
At first the newly named Shongshar stood alone, but gradually the clanfolk began to surround him, touching noses and exchanging cheek rubs. When Fessran and the Firekeepers joined in, things became more enthusiastic. Their friendly assault nearly knocked Shongshar over, but Ratha saw that he bore it in good humor, especially since they all left their torches behind.
The herders were less excited, but even Shoman grudgingly brushed whiskers. Thakur gave his pupil a formal nose-touch and came to sit by Ratha. Neither one of them spoke as they watched the crowd of well-wishers wash over and around Shongshar.
She couldn’t help feeling a small glow of pride. “You’re making a mistake,” said Thakur softly, his whiskers in her ear.
“Arr, don’t spoil it, Thakur.”
“All right. I am happy for him, but I hope you know the trail you’re running.”
“I have to. There is no other.”
He fell silent again. She felt deflated and couldn’t help but remember her uncertainty about the newcomer and the subtle defiance she had once sensed in him. Surely she was wrong about that ... or was she?
Suddenly, she was disgusted by her own ambivalence and told herself to stop fretting. I’ve done what is best for us. I can’t ask myself for more. Only the passing days will tell me whether I was right. I won’t think about it any more. I don’t need to hunt trouble.
Chapter Six
Thakur sat in the dry leaves underneath the oak and watched the yearlings manage the dapplebacks and three-horns by themselves. He hoped his training had prepared the young herders well enough for the work ahead of them. It was fall now, and the clan’s mating season had begun. During this time, the yearlings
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