Fire Wolf (Tekval Fitan Book I) by Pearson Moore

Author:Pearson Moore
Language: eng
Format: epub

Chapter Doe-Six and One

16 & 1

Tano Vinsi bae Ena

Glatos Fintkish

(Truth of Fire from Fang)

Python Clan

Moon After the Sixth Moon, Eighth Day

The Scimitar

A warm fire, a peaceful night wrapped in mammoth fur and bison hide, and neither dream nor terror of flame. Morning broke and Kretoshi celebrated the seer's ritual with Pligmashi's clan, thankful she could move fingers and arms almost without pain. More than that, she was grateful for clear thoughts and a light heart. It was the first good day in two moons.

Now she sat at dawn, Stok occupying his usual position at heart. Lumsha's eyes showed confusion, probably because she sat in the Tonku's place at spear. Kretoshi knew she always sat at firestone, opposite heart, unless Stok was on a hunt, in which case she became Chief Hunter and sat at the Matriarch's spear hand, which was the heart position. She must have wondered why she sat at spear, where she would be expected to demonstrate wisdom of neither hunt nor flame. It was that strange, uncomfortable place of listening to stone, listening to women, listening to the hunter's tale—and knowing not in heart but in muscle and bone. Stok and Lumsha listened to the Scimitar's telling of the Visions of Terror, Stok with intense concentration, Lumsha with fear in her eyes.

Stok was a mystery to Kretoshi's heart. He was Mammoth Heart, Netku Kertsu to Python and Blue Hills, but the Tasbuv called him Tusbal Klapsan bae Fintkan—Wisdom of Hoof and Claw. It was said Negvis, spirit of cunning, spoke only with wolf, lion, and bear, that Klatvis gave all animals strength but favored mammoth and rhino. But the Tasbuv said Stok heard Negvis and Klatvis, that he knew the deer's every hoofbeat, that his heart was canny as the leopard, that his arms were strong as the rhino. No seer ever saw or heard Negvis or Klatvis, but Stok did. No one in any clan could ever hope to understand him, for he gleaned wisdom that no one else possessed.

Lumsha was far easier to see in fire and flame. Many spoke of her as a great hunter, certainly more skilled in the hunt than most blood hunters. But she was as different from Stok as anyone could be. She didn't inhabit heart of deer or eye of wolf as Stok did. Take away Stok's spear and he remained hunter without equal. But take away Lumsha's spear and she was naked, incapable. In that sense she was no different from any other hunter. It struck Kretoshi that Lumsha might be the speared hunter with skill surpassing even Stok's. She was hunter-in-blood, granted the javelin in her fifth winter, granted the spear at six winters, rare for any hunter, unheard of for women. It was as if Skadmis herself had been born to Enubish Tribe, born to hunt, born to become Stok's lover.

Looking into the woman's face, seeing her frown in confusion at hearing the Visions of Terror, Kretoshi understood. There was a way to her heart, and it was not through Stok or nights of rhino death and sexual passion.

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