“Sounds intriguing. The Ragoru do honor the color of the Mother. Please continue.”
“Do you? Well, that is a fascinating root to the rumors of your kind.” She laughed. “Imagine everyone being scared to wear Red and be bright in coloring in fear of Ragoru’s coming to gobble them up!”
“Are you saying that you wish for me to devour you, little human?” he asked with a husky growl. “I may enjoy the flavor too much to stop.”
She flushed hotly, her arousal peaking feverishly. She watched his nostrils flare and his pupils dilate. It would be so easy to say yes, but they still didn’t know what might come with the huntsmen and Vordri’s uncertainty. That stayed her from speaking of the things that she desired.
“Well then, that puts you in the perfect frame of mind for Little Red. You see, there was this girl and this big bad wolf...”
Chapter 16
Vordri watched Mishar disappear over a snowy hill, making his way back to the den, his brother’s fur blending in with the snow. If he hadn’t known what he was looking for, he would have struggled to spot him. That was comforting for Vordri to know. Everything seemed better lately, though he still worried about huntsmen entering their territory. The edge had eased over the days, but it had been enough to restore much of his temper. He still worried but that worry had recently grown to encompass an odd human female.
The human confused him. Mishar often displayed signals of desiring to mate with Emala, but nothing like those demonstrated by Korash. Even he felt stirrings when he was near her and it bewildered him that an alien had such an effect on him. He was having a harder time coming to terms with it than the rest of his triad. The only comfort he enjoyed was seeing Korash finally take full leadership of their triad. Though Vordri was a worrier and would always be overly protective of his family, it relieved a lot of tension knowing that Korash was assuming more responsibility and had a sharper attention on their family and territory. He’d never minded sharing the burden when their triad was young and Korash had been recovering from his own losses, but over the revolutions it had worn on him. Now it was as if a weight had been lifted and he couldn’t help relishing the intense feeling of relief.
Kicking the snow up as he loped along the border of their territory, he grinned, enjoying the way the ice in the air prickled along his fur. He’d covered a lot of ground and couldn’t wait to return home. It wasn’t every day that Mishar beat him, but it had become a sort of game between them. He expected their nervous energy was also due to the fact that the end of the moon cycle approached.
Soon, their family would have to decide what to do about Emala.
He knew what his triad brothers wanted, and despite his confusion he wanted it too. There had been no sight of huntsmen and the Withering Days would soon be approaching. Any decision would definitely have to be made before they went into heat sharing their den with their little human. It did mean sacrificing the possibility of rogs, but he had given up on that dream revolutions ago when he knew that his triad would never be accepted by a female of their kind. That Emala would have room in her heart for all of them—regardless of their triad’s imperfections—seemed a fair trade for him. He smiled at the thought of her arms reaching out to embrace him even as she lay against Korash and Mishar’s pelts.
He was still indulging in the daydream when three large silhouettes emerged from the tree-line right in front of him that skirted their territory border. He bristled, unable to determine at first what they were, but he relaxed slightly when he realized it was another triad moving along their border. They were nearly at the first standing stone now, their bodies like shadows against the snow in silver and gray hues. Although he was relieved that it was not huntsmen, he was still wary. Ragoru triads of this part of the continent had good reason to be leery and mistrustful of each other. Attempting to steal mates and territories was not beyond the worst of them.
One of the males, a silver, turned his head toward him, his yellow eyes cutting through the distance. He raised two hands, one gesturing to convey peace and the other that he wished to speak. Vordri hesitated, but all three males stood patiently at the edge of the standing stone, leaving the decision of whether to approach or not up to him. Vordri’s ears pricked and he scented the air. There was nothing hostile about the males. They were not behaving as an invading triad. In fact, they were carefully keeping to the outer perimeter of the territory. Again, the male gestured a desire to talk, his movement becoming urgent as the gray male beside him seemed to lose interest, his head glancing in the direction from which they’d come with concern.
They wouldn’t wait much longer for him to decide. Their lead wanted to keep moving.
Vordri made his decision. They had to know something important for them to be making such an effort to communicate. Snow kicked up around his flanks as he loped over to them. The males shifted at his approach but held their ground. The silver male who’d communicated smiled and stepped forward a pace or two, two of his hands held up in greeting. Vordri returned the gesture as he neared.
When he came to stand in front of the triad, he saw that they were younger than he’d expected. They barely seemed of age and yet already bore scars. From the placement of a few, he knew them to be from fights with other Ragoru, but some had been inflicted by humans. The sight made him feel sick. Males that young should not have been so riddled with scars in various stages of healing. A few were still raw and pink. The gray lead caught the direction of his gaze and grimaced, but Vordri was not so ill-mannered to embarrass the lead to ask how his triad came to such condition.
“You have information?” he asked. Though it was the silver who’d initiated communication, he directed his question to the lead as tradition demanded.
The male inclined his head, the wind ruffling his fur. “Huntsmen. They’ve been descending the western side of the mountain for many days now. They come with their hunting beasts and mounts into the woods in ceaseless numbers. Their beasts howl and scent for something.”
“For what do they search?” Vordri asked with dread. He knew what they were looking for, but he hoped that he was mistaken, and it was just another attempt by the huntsmen to flush out Ragoru.
“We are not certain. The lead huntsman is older, graying with age. He holds something in his hand that he occasionally gives his beasts to scent. It looks similar to the coverings the huntsmen wear over their soft bodies but not. It is hard to explain what we only caught a glimpse of from a distance.”
“I once spied a female among their number passing with her kin through the woods. It reminded me a little of her coverings but the texture less coarse,” the silver offered helpfully. Vordri’s stomach sank. He had no doubt that they had one of Emala’s coverings and were using her scent as a weapon against her.
“Where are they now?” he growled worriedly.
“They have not pressed eastward yet. I think the snows on this side of the mountain discourage them for now, but we wanted to warn you. We have evacuated from the forests where we were raised in hopes of finding a peaceful territory in which to den. Others will be fleeing east as well with the huntsmen on their trail. I would suggest that your triad keep to your den as much as possible to avoid notice. The Withering Days come soon,” he concluded quietly. He shook the falling snow from his fur and sighed, sounding far too weary for a young male. “We must press on until we can find a comfortable cave in which to wait out our heat. May the Mother bless you with Her union and keep you safe.”
“May the Mother bestow her kindness and bounty upon your triad,” Vordri returned solemnly.
The males smiled and each inclined their head to him in a respectful farewell as they broke through the snow ahead of them. Vordri lingered for a moment to watch them as they disappeared into the woods, his heart hammering against his chest. He turned and raced at full speed through his territory, familiar trees and stones passing by him. Although he knew that the huntsmen were not yet near, his instinct demanded he get to Emala and see to her safety. H
e did not stop his brutal pace until he slowed just enough to burst through the door without taking it off the side of their den.
As he entered, Korash looked up at him sharply from where he was curled protectively around Emala, and Mishar, who’d crouched beside them, stood, his body coiled with tension as if to attack. Both breathed out a sigh when they saw that it was him, but that relief did not last long.
Mishar’s fingers flew, demanding answers, but it was Korash who got up and gripped him tightly with four hard hands and growled when Vordri did nothing but stand there, panting, his mind still reeling with shock and then upwelling relief to see Emala safe in their den.
“Vordri! What news do you have that has put you into such a state? Speak, brother,” Korash demanded with a sharp squeeze of his hands.
“Vordri?” Emala’s voice finally snapped him out of his panic.
Pushing by his triad, he dropped in front of her and cast his arms around her, holding her so close to his chest that he could feel her heart beating against him.
“Vordri, what’s wrong?” she whispered, her small hands stroking through the fur that she could reach from where he had her pinned against him. He shuddered and looked up to meet the worried gaze of his triad.
“A triad passed by with news... The huntsmen are coming. They are still in the west. We must decide what to do now. We cannot afford to wait until the full moon. The Withering Days are approaching fast and with the huntsmen on her trail with their hunting beasts, we cannot delay this any longer.”
“Oh, blessed Mother,” Emala whispered in horror, “I swear this was not what I wanted. I had hoped that maybe Erik would give up with the early snowfall. I didn’t want to believe he would actually descend the mountain after me.” She gripped his scruff, drawing his attention back to her. Her eyes shone with understanding. “I trust you to decide what is best.”
He closed his eyes, misery weighing heavy on his heart. He could feel Mishar moving with agitation to the left of him and even Korash’s eyes felt like they were burning holes through him. He turned and met his lead’s gaze.
“What is your decision, Korash?”
Korash let out a long breath, and Vordri could see his mounting aggression dissipating once the male had noticed that Vordri wasn’t going to attempt to push a decision on their family. The lead looked at them, his amber eyes hard as stones. To Vordri’s surprise, he asked one question in a low voice. “Do you still believe that Emala will harm our family, Vordri?”
Vordri turned his peripheral eye toward the female but kept his primary eyes locked on his lead. “No. I think we face risk keeping her with us. We all must be aware of it. Her presence here will bring the huntsmen.”
He watched as Emala bowed her head in acceptance. His admiration rose. Though she reached a hasty conclusion, she was keeping her word. After watching his own mother harangue her mates and use duplicitous methods to secure her will in every matter, even those which threatened the safety of their family, a warmth stirred in his chest.
Korash bristled, ready to fight for her right to stay but Emala stayed him with a gentle touch to his chest. “Vordri is right,” she said. She swiped at one eye and smiled, though her eyes were shiny and sad. “I cannot stay here. I endanger you. It was naïve of me to hope that Erik wouldn’t continue to hunt for me on this side of the mountain, but I refuse to put any of you in danger.” She took a deep, shaky breath. “I insist that you take me as close as you safely can to the nearest village. I will find my way from there.”
Mishar adamantly signed his protest over and over, growing more vehement until finally he curled despairingly around Emala. Vordri couldn’t bear the sight of his brother’s grief, and, in truth, he couldn’t bear the thought of her leaving either. Who would sit with him in the evenings and tease him while they made baskets together? Who else would make their home so inviting and smell so sweet? It wouldn’t take long for her scent to fade, no matter how hard they clung to it. Although the idea of mating with a furless human still baffled him, he didn’t want to let her go. It would be smart to do so. It would be safer to do as she asked and set her outside a village to be found by her own kind. She might even find a human mate... Vordri flinched at the idea, a low growl threatening to break out of his chest.
He couldn’t bear it. Any of it.
“No,” he growled, his eyes meeting Emala’s startled green gaze. “I don’t want you to leave us.” He glanced over at Korash. “I am in agreement with whatever your decision is, but I wish to state that I acknowledge the risks and dangers and wish to keep Emala here with us.”
“Emala remains here with us,” Korash stated firmly, though his eyes softened with affection as he looked upon their family. “We all recognize the possible dangers. We will remain in our den and allow the snows to hide us. Over the next few days, I suggest we increase our efforts to procure supplies for the month ahead and the Withering Days.” He paused and then spoke slowly. “The Withering Days will take us as nature, and the Mother, wills it.”
Vordri inclined his head in agreement. If they could resist mating with her through the Withering Days, when they were in the midst of their heat, they would know for certain that mating was not meant to be. Males in their heat would be unable to resist solidifying their mating with a compatible female.
They would wait and see.
Emala looked back and forth between all of them. “Withering Days?”
Vordri smiled at her. “It is a special time for the Ragoru when the light dies from the world and the Mother is tended by her mates, the lords of the house, the hunt and the borders, to return life to the world.”
“Oh,” Emala said, her interest piqued. “That sounds similar to Mother’s Night among humans. How do you mark it?”
“I suspect that you will see for yourself,” Korash joined in, a bemused expression flitting across his features. Vordri empathized. If their instinct dominated them as it should, there would be no way she could miss exactly how the Ragoru marked the occasion. Mishar chuffed from where he was still curled around the female. Emala glanced at all of them in confusion and then shrugged before turning to snuggle back into Mishar’s embrace.
Vordri’s ears tilted toward her and he eased closer to his brother, her sweet, warm scent filling his nose. An ember of doubt began to burn bright in his mind that he would survive the Withering Days without claiming her for their own.
Chapter 17
The next several days were a whirlwind of activity. The males protested when she’d rolled up the sleeves of her increasingly threadbare dress and dove in to help, but they eventually yielded with considerable grumbling from Korash and a chastising look from Vordri. Though Vordri was typically happy to allow her to help, it seemed that not even he was pleased with the idea of her helping with unpleasant tasks. Mishar had merely chuffed and hugged her close to him, nuzzling her affectionately with his muzzle before setting her down again.
After three days of endless working and learning more than she thought she’d ever want to know about butchering meat, curing hides and smoking rations, Emala was beginning to feel the physical strain. The males always kept an eye on her and helped whenever she became overwhelmed but had stopped insisting that she “go rest.” Despite her exhaustion, she discovered a love for working side-by-side with them as a unit. It also helped that she’d been learning how to sign with Mishar since before her arrival at the den in her desperate desire to communicate with him. That she no longer depended on having another male nearby to translate freed everyone to be able to work together. She still got stuck from time to time when she encountered an unfamiliar sign from him, but it wasn’t too often to be an inconvenience.
It was Mishar who approached her now, holding a large clay bowl. She still wanted to learn how to make those, but when she asked about it Vordri had laughed and said that he would have to show her when the wet season came, when the clay was soft in the ground near the riverbeds. Apparently collecting clay was a seasonal thing. She hadn’t real
ized until living with the Ragoru how much of daily life outside of the Citadel was regulated by seasons. They had large hothouses in one part of the Citadel that were tasked with growing fresh fruits and vegetables all year round. It had never occurred to her that so many things were constrained by their appropriate seasons.
“I take it that we are work buddies today?”
Mishar grinned and nodded as he slowly signed to her. He still had to be reminded from time to time to slow down so she could follow his gestures. The way he signed to his triad brothers was such a blur of movement that she had no hope of keeping up with the conversation. We clean the ash from the hearth today.
Emala refrained from pouting. In truth, it was perhaps the easiest task anyone was going to have that day; it just never failed to make her filthy. Unlike living in the Citadel with its running water, the den had a room at the rear with a deep pit and several ventilation shafts. Although the guys usually did their business outdoors when the weather was good, she was grateful for their waste area in their den since it allowed her a relatively comfortable place to see to her needs. As comfortable as squatting over a hole in the ground could get. When not in use, the hole was kept covered, but they depended on copious amounts of ash followed by lavender to control the smell. Since their noses were more sensitive than hers, it was a duty that everyone took very seriously.
As expected, it didn’t take them long to finish their task, and Mishar spent much of it smiling as she chattered at him, though he chuffed with silent laughter when his eyes swept over her when they finished. She glanced down at her arms. Her arms were dark gray with ash, and even rolling up the sleeves hadn’t spared them from collecting soot. She had no doubt that her hair and face were just as coated given how close she leaned over the cold hearth. She shivered from the cool air inside of the den. The sooner they got the fire going, the better.
White: Emala's Story (Ragoru Beginnings Book 1) Page 11
