The Dog Master (14 page)

Palloc swallowed. “Well, not outside of marriage if she becomes my wife.”

“Your wife is to be Calli Umbra.”

“What?”

“That is what has been decided. I told you I was working on a plan. Calli is smart, and the women have been thinking she would be a good council mother. I have promised her mother I will support such a move, but in five years. That neutralizes her as a threat for now. But it also keeps the power in our family.”

“That is your plan? That, that is not any sort of plan! The plan was to make me hunt master,” Palloc sputtered.

“You are a fool who copulates with a low-status girl, when you could have been married to Bellu and been hunt master. I need to protect myself. If you do not see how this also is good for you, you are as blind as old Hardy.”

“I will not marry Calli,” Palloc snapped back. “She of all women treats me with the least respect. I hate her.”

“Would you please not say so many stupid words? You make my ears ache. Once she is your wife, she will be forced to treat you with respect.
You
will force her—do you think you can manage to do at least that, Spear Master? If you cannot, your mother will come into your marriage and do it for you.”

“I am in love with Renne.”

“Then keep fornicating with her, I do not care!” Albi roared back. “That is where you just were, is it not?”

Palloc could not meet her eyes and looked down.

“No one else will have her, she is an orphan who cannot even make a decent rope. So do what you want. But you will marry Calli. It is the only way I will stay council mother.”

Palloc shook his head. “For five years,” he pointed out scornfully. “And then you will depend on me for food and wish you had found a way to make me hunt master.”

“I have no intention of stepping down in five years, you stupid hyena,” Albi snarled. “But this assures I will not be challenged in that time. Now do you understand?”

Palloc sneered. “So this is a plan to benefit you, then. You marry me off for your good, not mine.” He stood. “I was but one step behind Urs when he killed that lion. If not for that, he would never have been made hunt master. Even now, he is hesitant and unsure—everyone, not just me, can see that.”

“Now is not the time for a direct challenge,” Albi informed him. “The hunt hates change, and Bellu's family, as a voting bloc, is simply too powerful. How a woman as stupid as Ador can manage to be the only mother in the Kindred to have all of her boys survive to adulthood is a mystery, but there it is.”

Later that night, lying under his elk hide and trying to stay warm as the cold winds shrieked and threatened to blow out the fires, Palloc reflected on his mother's words, black fury in his heart. Maybe he had his own plan. Maybe he did not need her help. It would be easy, as spear master, to find times out on the hunt to be alone with the hunt master. Palloc would watch for such an opportunity, and when it came, he would strike.

He would kill Urs the hunt master.

 

FIFTEEN

Renne was bent over her rope when she saw the stick.

To anyone watching casually, she was spending the final hours before nightfall practicing her craft, clearly intent, seriously focused, and not easily interrupted. No one bothered to examine her closely or long enough to see that she was less bowed over her materials than folded in a cramp, her eyes closed, her fingers moving on her strip of hide without accomplishing anything other than appearances.

Palloc had come to her, had mated with her, and then had stood up and abruptly told her it was to be the last time they could be together. When, in her shock, she begged him to explain, he became cross and turned away without a word.

She sat cross-legged and her legs were wet from her tears. She was still bent over when the thick end of a walking stick thumped the ground in front of her.

Renne looked up, blinking. Albi towered over her, her face unreadable but her voice kind. “Come with me, child,” she said in low, sympathetic tones.

Nodding, Renne scrambled to her feet, wiping her eyes with a hasty hand. Albi's cane, a thick rod as big around as a man's arm, came down with every step as they walked out of camp, toward the low hills and shrubs that offered some privacy.

Renne found her heart pounding. Albi was silent, offering no clue as to the purpose of their hike. Where were they going? It was late afternoon, not a prime time for predators like lions, but not the safest time to be out, either. To stray so far from camp made Renne nervous.

They were now in the low hills, completely out of sight of the camp.

Albi stopped and surveyed the area. Nothing growing here yet—the rains had been nonexistent. They stood on the remnants of last year's grasses, clipped short by the deer whose tracks still scored the earth. Albi nodded, satisfied about something. “I understand,” she began, “that for women of your age, it is not enough that the council has graciously begun to listen to mothers in accommodation when a marriage is suggested. I even allowed Ador to approach Urs directly about him marrying Bellu, bypassing the council as if its blessing is a mere formality. And still, you want more. You want women and men to make decisions on their own, defying the Kindred way of life. Is that right?”

Renne found she was weeping. “Council Mother,” she began helplessly.

“You want to marry my son, and he wishes the same,” Albi continued tonelessly.

Renne nodded, wildly hopeful.

“You are in love.”

“Yes.”

Albi picked absently at a grey hair growing from her chin, looking deep in thought. Renne held her breath, waiting. The council mother shifted her grip on her pole and examined it, holding it as men held their spears.

“So,” Albi finally said. She drove the walking stick straight into Renne's stomach. With a cry, Renne doubled over. Albi stepped forward.
Crack.
The rod clubbed Renne on the head and she pitched to the ground, her face slamming into the dirt. Albi raised her stick and viciously jabbed Renne in the ribs.

Renne screamed. She rolled onto her side and drew her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her head.

“Look at me,” Albi said, eerily calm. Renne, sobbing, kept her eyes closed and her face hidden. “Renne. Look at me. Please.”

Bewildered, Renne lifted her head. The club whistled and smashed into her bleeding face, a tooth dislodging with the impact. Renne screamed again, spitting blood.

After a moment, Renne managed to make it onto her hands and knees. Her head hung low, thick blood seeping from her mouth, and she wailed, terrified.

For several minutes nothing happened. Renne, shuddering, managed to stop sobbing. She probed the soft, broken area in her jaw where the tooth had been, she pressed a hand to the gash on her cheek.

When Albi knelt beside her, Renne flinched. “Renne,” Albi said softly. “Look at me.”

Renne was not going to look at her.

“I will not strike you again. That is over. Look at me now.”

Raising her arm to protect her face, Renne risked peeking at the council mother with one eye. The stick lay on the ground next to them.

“You will have nothing further to do with my son. You will stop interfering with the will of the women's council. What is done is done. He would never marry someone like you, and for you to offer yourself to him outside of marriage is a trick that will never work. Instead of throwing yourself at him, you should get pretty and attract the affections of someone who is available. As council mother, I can help you to this end.”

“I love Palloc,” Renne grated.

Albi laughed—an ugly, insulting noise. “Oh child.
Love.
Look what love has gotten you.” For emphasis, Albi reached out a thick finger and drove it into the split in the scalp at the back of Renne's head. Renne yelped with the pain. “No, true love is what the council decides, and I decide for the council.” Albi stood up. “I am glad we were able to have this conversation, Renne. I would suggest you get back to camp as soon as you can stand—the scent of your blood will draw the wolves.”

*   *   *

Few women walked right up to the invisible line that marked the men's side of the settlement. Some sort of buffer zone existed, unseen, but there by tradition. Only an angry wife, calling to her husband to return to the home fire, might approach so close that her voice could be heard by the hunt as the men congregated.

It was after the meager supper when Calli invaded the buffer zone and stood with her feet virtually resting on the border that marked the men's side. “Urs!” she cried urgently. “Please, I need to talk to you!”

The murmur of conversation around the men's fire ceased. Urs rose, every man's eyes upon him, and made his way stiffly toward where Calli waited.

“Calli,” he whispered as he approached. “Please, you cannot come to our side and call for me. I do not know what they are thinking, now.”

“It is urgent we speak!”

“Come with me,” Urs ordered grimly, turning and marching away so quickly that Calli almost had to run.

They strode silently out of camp, not speaking until they were out of sight. Then Urs stopped and turned to her.

“Oh Urs,” Calli sobbed, collapsing onto him. Tears ran down his chest as she wept brokenly, and after a time his bearing lost its stiffness, and his arms came up to awkwardly embrace her.

“Calli, I do not know what, why you are crying. But please stop. Tell me.”

“Urs, I have been promised to Palloc.”

His face opened wide with shock.
“What?”

She nodded. “My mother just told me. It is to be arranged that I marry Palloc, and then, in five years' time, Albi announces for me as council mother.”

“Council mother,” Urs repeated. He nodded slowly. “This will be very good for you.”

“Urs!” she shouted at him. “I have to
marry Palloc.
”

His face became very serious. He held her by the shoulders, staring into her face. “Calli. Listen to me. We cannot fight this.”

“What? What? Are you not hearing me? Is that what you want, for Palloc, of all men, to marry me? To take your place in my bed? To give me the children who should be yours?”

“Of course it is not what I want,” Urs snapped. “Nothing is happening the way I
want.
But the council has decided, just as the hunt decided to make me hunt master. For the good of all, for the Kindred, it is not up to us to make our own decisions. This is the way it has always been.”

Calli stared at him with hot eyes. “It is because she is beautiful,” she finally said in a flat whisper.

Urs flinched as if she had slapped him.

“That is it, right? Bellu is so beautiful. You said you would always love me, but this was before you realized you could mate with
her,
” Calli spat.

“No, how can you say such a thing? Do you not understand what has happened? I have been made hunt master. Hardy cannot tell me anything, his words are incomprehensible, so all the decisions I make are on my own. I have to focus on finding prey, on a successful hunt. Matters of marriage have always been left to the women and I cannot compromise my position by attempting to interfere!”

Calli took a deep, shuddering breath, feeling a sour apathy seep into her heart. Somehow, none of this surprised her.

“It is very ironic, is it not?” Calli murmured softly. “You hunt master and me council mother. With such power, no one could deny us if we were to announce that we were to be wed. It would be done with our simple statement, and at the winter weddings, my mother would hand me to you and the Kindred would watch in joy.”

Urs frowned. “But you said five years,” he began dubiously.

“Oh Urs, do you really think I am saying this is what we should do
now
? I was just…” He would not, she suddenly understood, ever get her point, here. She shook her head. “Do you love me, Urs?” she asked abruptly.

He looked uncomfortable. “Yes,” he replied. “Of course. But Calli…”

“Oh no, Urs. Please.” Calli pressed her fingers to his lips, her voice barely a murmur. “Do not tell me anything but that. You love me.”

“I do, but now things…”

“Shhhh,” she said. She pulled at the knot on her hip, dropping her skirt away. “You love me.”

His eyes were large. “Yes,” he replied automatically. “I love you.”

It was not the same, lying there in the sparse, dead vegetation. Calli gripped her man fiercely, and when he put his lips to her breast a thrill went through her, but once he was inside her it occurred to her that soon it would be Palloc on top of her, staring at her with his strange eyes, taking her as a man takes a woman. She shoved such thoughts aside and watched Urs with wet eyes as he gave himself to his passion.

He is mine,
Calli thought with each gentle thrust.
He is mine. He is mine.

Year Nineteen

The little female pup was larger than her two brothers, something they were just beginning to sense as they wrestled and tumbled in the den. For the most part, this meant that the two males mounted largely uncoordinated attacks on her with their tiny teeth, combining forces when all three of them were upright but instantly pouncing on whichever wolf fell on his back. They played all day, ceaselessly, pausing only to feed or to nap.

For them, the man was just another animal to wrestle with. They felt no fear of him, nor really any sense that he did not belong as a member of their pack. He was in the den and he played with them; that was all that mattered.

When the man was gone they happily frolicked with each other. The mother-wolf, however, was not receptive to having the pups bite at her and they had earned enough snarls and snaps to stay clear of her during play.

The area of the cave that smoldered from the fire also brought down rich scents of the world on currents of air that swirled in the crevice. The pups did not understand what they were looking at when they raised their noses to the smells and peered at the sky, but the exotic odors were tantalizing.