Clan Ground (The Second Book of the Named) by Clare Bell Read Free Book Online Page A

Thakur, will eat after me and then Orange-Eyes will fill his belly. Fessran, you will follow.”
    Thakur gave Fessran a questioning look.
    “You’ve earned it, herding teacher,” she said. “And so has he.” She got up and stretched. “I suppose I have too.”
    “Fessran, get some sleep. And Orange-Eyes,” Ratha said. “Thakur, please stay.”
    After the Firekeeper and the silvercoat had gone, Thakur leaned toward Ratha and asked softly, “Will you tell me what troubles you?”
    Ratha turned her head and stared at Thakur, wrinkling the fur on her brow.
    “Fessran was asking you to accept Orange-Eyes and make him a Firekeeper, wasn’t she?”
    In spite of herself, her jaw dropped. “How did you know? Your ears must be keener than I thought. Or I spoke louder than I meant to.”
    “No, I didn’t hear you. I’ve been around Fessran long enough to know that when she wants something, she chases after it.”
    “I told her that I haven’t decided. If he does stay with us, I don’t know whether he should be trained as a Firekeeper. It’s true, Fessran does need some more torchbearers.”
    “And you are willing to give her what she wants?” said Thakur with surprise and more than a trace of annoyance. “I thought that if he stayed, he would be trained as a herder.”
    Ratha fought the feeling of guilt that crept over her at the sound of disappointment in his voice. She felt drained by the bristlemane attack and knew she had not chosen her words as carefully as she should have. She hoped Thakur could sense her weariness and not press her further, but this time, his usual selflessness had been pushed aside by anger. He waited, a subdued glitter in his eyes.
    Ratha looked at her toes, the ground, the fire; anything but the questioning green eyes. “Thakur, what else can I do?” she burst out at last. “Fessran says she must have torchbearers who have the strength of will to master the fire they guard. If the fires die, then we of the clan have no hope against the Un-Named or the bristlemanes.”
    “Has Fessran persuaded you that Orange-Eyes alone would make such a difference?”
    “He would teach; he would inspire others to try harder. If any torchbearer would make a difference, I agree with Fessran that he would be the one.”
    “I have no doubt that he would,” said Thakur. “I also have no doubt that Fessran is thinking not only of him but of the cubs he might sire. Perhaps he might father a whole family of cubs strong and brave enough to guard the Red Tongue, if they have wit enough to remember which end of a torch to take in their jaws!”
    Ratha couldn’t help ducking her head and drawing back her whiskers. She felt lost and uncertain. Where was the patient teacher and friend she thought she knew?
    “Thakur, why are you so upset about this?”
    Thakur took a long breath. “Before tonight, I would have said it was only because I feared his young would be witless. That is worry enough, but now I have seen something else. I find this hard to explain, but I have seen him looking at the fire and I don’t like what I see. Ratha, he is not one of the Named, even though he has enough light in his eyes for a whole litter of cubs.”
    “I thought you liked him.” Ratha was puzzled.
    “I can like him and still fear him.”
    “Fear him! A half-grown cub!”
    “One who can rip the nape out of a full-sized bristlemane?” Thakur said, spacing his words. “No, Orange-Eyes is not a cub. I have seen him looking at the fire, and I sense that in some way he may understand it better than we do.”
    “Well, then, if he does, maybe he can help us find other ways to manage it.” She lifted her chin, trying to recapture her confidence.
    “No, Ratha. It’s not that kind of understanding. He knows what the Red Tongue has done and can do to us. I have a feeling in my belly that his sort of knowledge may be dangerous.”
    Ratha felt hot and cold. She wondered whether it was just the fire’s breath on one side of