Outcast (3 page)

Even Fin-Kedinn seemed shaken. "But you must. He's your kinsman." When the Wolf Leader did not reply, he said, "Maheegun, I know this boy. He was marked against his will; he's no Soul-Eater."

Maheegun frowned. "You misunderstand; this is not my choice. Did I say that I
will
not vouch for him? No.
35
I said I
can
not. This boy is the son of the Wolf Mage, yes. But he is
not
Wolf Clan!" For a moment, nobody spoke.
"Of course I'm Wolf Clan!" shouted Torak. "My mother named my clan when I was born, just like everybody else. And Fa gave me my clan-tattoos when I was seven!" "No," said Maheegun.
Drawing close to Torak, he put out his hand and touched Torak's cheek with his forefinger.
Torak flinched. He caught the Leader's musty smell of wet reindeer hide. He felt the callused finger trace the old scar that cut across the clan-tattoo on his left cheek. "Not Wolf Clan," murmured Maheegun, and his yellow eyes pierced Torak's.
"Clanless ..."
There was a stunned silence. Then everyone spoke at once. "What are you talking about?" cried Torak. "I'm Wolf Clan! I've been Wolf Clan since the night I was born!" "It's only a scar," protested Fin-Kedinn. "It means nothing."
"How could he be clanless?" exclaimed Renn. "Nobody's clanless! It isn't possible!"
"Maheegun is right," rasped Saeunn.
36
All heads turned to her.
"The scar is no accident," she declared. "The boy's father made it on purpose, to show that he is not truly Wolf."
"That's not true!" Torak burst out. "Besides, how could you even know?"
"He told me," said the Raven Mage. "He sought me out at the clan meet by the Sea." Her flinty gaze caught his. "You know this. You were there." "It isn't true," whispered Torak. But in that instant, he knew it was.

He was seven summers old, and Fa had left him with a gaggle of jeering children while he went off to speak to someone--he wouldn't say who. Torak had never seen so many people. He'd been frightened and excited and proud of his new clan-tattoos, although it was annoying that Fa had covered them up with bearberry juice, saying they needed a disguise, making a game of it.

The rain had stopped, and the trees dripped sadly.
Clanless,
they murmured.
"How could this be?" said Fin-Kedinn.

"Only his mother knew the answer," Saeunn replied. "She declared him clanless before she died." Suddenly she struck the earth with her staff. "But this is of no concern to us! It alters nothing! The boy has no clan to vouch for him. By law, he must be cast out."

 

37

 

"No!"
shouted Renn. "I don't
care
if he's clanless! This isn't
fair!"
She ran into the middle of the clearing. Her wet hair clung to her neck in little red snakes, and her face was fierce. Torak thought she looked older than her thirteen summers, and beautiful.

 

Saeunn opened her mouth to silence her, but Fin-Kedinn raised his palm to let her speak.

"You all know Torak," began Renn, fixing them with her gaze. "You do, Thull. And you, Luta, and Sialot and Poi and Etan ..." One by one, she named the Ravens. Then she named those in the other clans whom Torak had met over the past two summers. "You all know what he's done for us. He destroyed the bear. He rid the Forest of the sickness. This winter we would have been overrun by demons if it hadn't been for him."

She paused to make them think about that. "Yes, he did wrong. He hid the Soul-Eater tattoo when he should have told us. But he doesn't deserve to be cast out! How can you stand by and let this happen? Where's the
justice
in it?"

 

Fin-Kedinn ran his hand over his dark-red beard. Doubt crept into the faces of some of the watchers. But there was no swaying Saeunn. Again she struck the earth with her staff. "Clan law
must
be upheld! The wrongdoer
must
be cast out!" She rounded on Renn. "And let there be no doubt, if anyone dares help him,

38
they too will be cast out!"
Renn glared at Saeunn in silent rebellion, but Torak caught her eye and shook his head.
Don't. You'll only make it worse.
Afterward he could never remember much of the rite of casting out, except for fragments, like flashes of lightning in a storm.
Renn looking on with her fists clenched and her shoulders up around her ears.
Aki stroking his axe.
Luta swallowing tears as she offered the basket of river clay, for all to mark their cheeks in mourning.
"The outcast shall be as one dead,"
intoned Saeunn.

One by one, each of the Ravens took a piece of Torak's gear and destroyed it, then purified their hands with a spruce bough, which they threw on the fire--just as they would have done if he'd actually died.

 

Thull took Torak's fishing spear and buried it under the trees.

 

Luta laid his cooking skin on the fire. Dari did the same with his auroch-horn spoon. Etan stamped on his birch-bark drinking cup. Sialot and Poi took his arrows and snapped them in two.

Others took his waterskin and his seal-hide winter clothing--which he'd outgrown and had been saving for bedding--and burned it.
39
Finally, Renn laid his medicine pouch gently on the embers. She was the only one to look him in the eye. Torak knew she would have said she was sorry if she could.

As the clearing filled with the bitter stink of burning hide, Saeunn made Torak lie on his back and tattooed his forehead with the mark of the outcast: a small black ring, like a Death Mark.

 

like a Death Mark.

At last he stood alone, with nothing but his bow, three arrows, his knife, medicine horn, and tinder pouch. All had been daubed with red ochre. As for one who is dead. So far Fin-Kedinn had taken no part in the rite, but now he walked toward Torak. His hand shook slightly as he took his knife from its sheath. Torak braced himself.
It hurt more than he could have imagined. Without a word, the Raven Leader cut the clan-creature skin from Torak's jerkin and placed the tattered wolf fur on the fire. Torak bit his lower lip as he watched the fur blacken and smoke.

"The outcast has until dawn to get away," said Fin-Kedinn. His voice was steady, but the glitter in his eyes betrayed what this was costing him. "Until then, he may pass freely in the Forest. After that, anyone who sees him must kill him." He paused. Then he made the

40
sideways cut of the palm, which meant outcast. "It is done."

Torak stared at the fire, where the last trace of the boy he had been--Torak of the Wolf Clan--blazed, collapsed in a heap of glowing ash, and was blown to nothingness by the wind.

 

Behind him, a murmur ran through the crowd. He turned, and was startled to see the watchers parting to let someone through. He saw Maheegun place a hand on his breast and bow low to the newcomer. He saw the rest of the Wolf Clan do the same.

Then he realized why.
A great gray wolf padded into the clearing. Raindrops beaded his silver fur, and his eyes were amber, like sunlight in clear water.
Dogs fled. People drew back. All except Renn, who gave Torak a defiant nod.
Torak knelt as Wolf padded toward him.

There were times when Wolf would have leaped at Torak and given him an ecstatic welcome, waggling his paws and grunt-whining as he licked his nose and smothered him in wolf kisses. This wasn't one of them. Tonight Wolf was the guide, his eyes alight with the mysterious certainty which came to him at times.

They touched noses, and Torak's gaze briefly grazed Wolf's in greeting.
Pack-brother,
he said in wolf talk.
He saw Maheegun stiffen.
Yes,
he told the Wolf
41
Leader silently.
I may not be Wolf Clan, but I can do what you cannot. I can talk wolf.

He rose to his feet, and together he and Wolf passed through the crowd to the edge of the clearing. Then Torak turned for one last look at the people who had cast him out.

 

"I may be outcast," he told them, "and clanless, but I'm no Soul-Eater. And I will find a way to prove it!"

 

It was a dank, chill night, and Torak ran through the Forest with Wolf running tirelessly beside him. They didn't stop to rest: without a sleeping-sack, Torak would have frozen. Better to keep going. That way, too, it was harder to think.

The sky was beginning to turn gray when Wolf halted: ears pricked, hackles raised.
Uff!
he barked softly.
Danger!
Soon afterward Torak heard it too. Birch-bark horns in the distance. The baying of dogs.
His hand tightened on the hilt of his knife.
Aki hadn't wasted any time.
42

FOUR

Wolf heard the dogs baying, and flicked one ear in scorn. They couldn't catch him! But they might catch Tall Tailless. As always, his pack-brother ran on his hind legs, which made him piteously slow: Wolf had to keep stopping to let him catch up. And because he couldn't smell or hear very much, he would never get away from the dogs if it weren't for Wolf.

But he made up for it by being so clever. Sometimes he was even cleverer than a normal wolf. Earlier he'd hidden his scent by swimming through a Fast Wet. Then he'd woken a Bright Beast-that-Bites-Hot and

43 smeared ash on his face, paws, and over-pelt. Wolf didn't like that because it made him sneeze, but he understood why it had to be done. He just wished Tall Tailless were faster.

With the wind behind them, they wound among the trees, following the trails which wolves had made long ago when the Forest was young. The baying faded, and Wolf raised his tail to tell his pack-brother that the pursuers were far behind.

 

They kept going.

 

The ground became stony. They climbed a rise where watchful pines whispered encouragement. Tall Tailless slipped, scattering pebbles that hit Wolf on the nose.

Tall Tailless pulled off his beaver-hide over-paws and climbed on in his bare pads. Wolf had often seen him do this, but he still found it disturbing. And Tall Tailless had such strange paws! The toes of his hindpaws were stubby and useless, while his front toes were very long and good at gripping. Wolf watched in admiration as his pack-brother used them to grab juniper branches and haul himself up the slope.

Suddenly Tall Tailless disappeared. Wolf's pelt tightened with alarm. Then he saw that his pack-brother had found a Den. It was hidden behind the junipers, and it smelled of pine marten and hawk. Wolf gave a disapproving bark. 44

Not here!
During the Great Cold, he'd been trapped by the bad taillesses in a Den like this one.
Tall Tailless stayed on all fours, panting. If he'd had a tail, it would have drooped. If only he didn't need so many rests!
Then Wolf remembered when he was a cub, and needed lots of rests himself, and Tall Tailless had carried him in his forepaws.
Feeling bad, Wolf rubbed against his pack-brother and licked his ear. Tall Tailless was shaking. Wolf smelled pain and anger, chewed up with loneliness and fear.

Why was this happening? Wolf didn't understand. Many lopes away, the dogs were angry because they couldn't find the scent.
Where! Where!
they yapped. The wind carried the smell of their anger and that of the young male tailless from the pack which smelled of boar. But
why
were they hunting Tall Tailless? And why had he left the raven pack? Sometimes a young wolf leaves his pack to start one of his own, but this didn't feel like that. This felt wrong.

The lead wolf of the raven pack had spoken harshly in tailless talk. He'd taken his great claw and torn the wolf fur from Tall Tailless's over-pelt: the wolf fur that had been part of Tall Tailless since Wolf first knew him. The lead wolf had done this terrible thing--but underneath, Wolf had sensed his biting sorrow.

45
The pack-sister puzzled Wolf even more. She hadn't tried to stop the pack leader, and she hadn't come with Tall Tailless.
What did it mean?
Down in the valley, the dogs were casting about for the scent. His pack-brother couldn't hear them yet, but Wolf's fur prickled.
What is it?
Tall Tailless asked with his eyes.
Wolf glanced at the beloved furless face. Tall Tailless couldn't lope much farther. Wolf had to make sure that the dogs didn't find him.
Grunt-whining softly, he nudged his pack-brother under the chin.
I'm sorry, I must leave. Don't follow.
Then he was out of the Den, racing down the slope.

He flew over the rocks and splashed through the Fast Wet, thrusting it aside with his big paws. Scrambling up the bank, he shook himself dry and set off again. It was good to run freely, without waiting for Tall Tailless, and he felt no fear of the dogs. Compared to a wolf, dogs are like cubs.

 

As he ran, he noticed things in the Forest that troubled him. A viper gliding up-Wet with her head held high. An owl feather caught in bracken. An oak tree whispering secrets to its vast and ancient pack. It reminded him of the bad taillesses who'd kept him tied up in the tiny stone Den.

"Where! Where!"
yelped the dogs.
46
Wolf forgot the bad taillesses and slowed to a walk.

He reached the valley bottom, and a tangle of scent trails. Through the trees, he saw the young male from the boar pack, clutching a great claw in his forepaw and stinking of blood-hunger. In the other paw he held a scrap of silver hide which smelled of fish-dog and Tall Tailless. Wolf recognized this as a scrap of Tall Tailless's old over-pelt.

One of the dogs sniffed the silver pelt to remind herself of the scent.
Now Wolf understood. The pelt was helping the dogs find his pack-brother. He must take it. Then they would chase him, and he would lead them away from Tall Tailless. Wolf's claws tightened with excitement. He felt the power in his shoulders and haunches, and knew with a fierce joy that he could lope faster than the fastest dog. Placing his pads with care, he crept forward.
47

FIVE
A smell of earth and decay clogged Torak's nostrils. The cramped little cave reminded him of the Raven bone-grounds.

 

Don't
think about that. Think about staying alive. The clamor of dogs had faded. Whatever Wolf had done, it seemed to have worked; but Torak wished he would return. He told himself that Wolf would find him when he was ready.