Tani managed to stop giggling. She could just see all that. Her hands signed. "I have small-name, yes. I am," this time she spoke the length of her name aloud. Then her hands moved again. "It means Sunset. I am the daughter to Bright Sky. After the Bright Sky of a fine day comes the Sunset."
"Your father is here?"
"My father was killed by enemies many years ago. My mother was killed by the same enemies. The enemies destroyed my home. I live in the home of my mother's brother now."
There was a soft hiss of commiseration from around the camp. They knew how that could be. Jumps High considered swiftly. With her name-trial completed, this one was free to choose. Sometimes a female without immediate family chose to change clans. It would be a big advantage to have in their clan one who could warn when the Death was coming. And the clan already owed her three lives. He signed again.
"You share our clan home. We are people of the Djimbut clan. I will speak to the One-Who-Drums-Thunder. My mate will name you our cousin. You will be a woman of the Djimbut clan if you wish. Stay with us, not stay with us. Still you will be kin. Is it good?"
Tani felt a tear trickle down her cheek. She reached over to clasp Jumps High's hands. She could only nod as the tears came faster. He gave an almost human-sounding sigh and patted her shoulder.
"Make your choice later. Now eat and drink with us. Rest a little. Then we must ride. We will be with the clan by sunset. Sunset will be with the clan."
Tani began to laugh and their own laughter rose with hers. But as she ate and drank she realized something. Partly because of the finger-talk, which limited them to simple discussion to some extent, she had assumed the natives to be not stupid exactly, but maybe not that clever. But Jumps High had made a pun by using an alien name in the signing. That was anything but dumb. She was still thinking about it as they rode, so that she persuaded Jumps High and his warriors into telling her more about their way of life.
It was akin in many ways to that of her father's own race in the days before the white-skins had come. Gradually as she watched the quick signs she came to understand what they had first believed about her. They were wrong, Tani thought. But not so wrong. Many of the tribes including the Cheyenne had once had the custom of fasting alone in the wilderness or desert for many days to learn their true name. In recent generations as many had returned to some of the old ways, this was done again. She had never done so. She had been too young at first, and then there was no more Earth and the few of the blood who survived had spread far and wide across a number of worlds.
She'd learned from Logan that the Quades were a mixture. Storm was wholly Navaho by a different father, while Brad, his stepfather, was part Cheyenne. And Logan, Storm's halfbrother, was a mixture of Navaho, Cheyenne, and white. No doubt some of their customs differed, yet she had felt very at home with them. All but Storm. The Beast Master who sought out a war to fight and allowed his beasts to die. Storm was leaving to talk to native friends, Logan had told her. She was talking to native friends, too, now. She went back to teasing Jumps High into telling more of the old tales told around their clan fires.
Chapter Eight
Storm's party had ridden most of the day. For much of the ride one or another of the Nitra had been absent. Scouting ahead, Storm believed. It had been an odd ride. He was with the group but not of it. None had spoken further to him and it was as if he were almost unnoticed. Not that this was more than an illusion, he knew. If he'd tried to leave they'd have noticed him very quickly. Toward dark they'd come to a camp. Nothing elaborate, merely several puff bushes clumped around and to one side of a rock spire. But it would provide shelter for the night.
The one who knew the sign-talk had indicated Surra. "The big animal will hunt?"
"She will hunt now. She will bring back meat for us. You will not shoot when she returns?" Storm added.
The warrior eyed him with the air of a grandmother being told how to suck eggs. "We will not shoot. We are hunters, we will know when she returns."
Nothing more was said. Surra hunted successfully and returned to share the small deer she had killed. Baku had flown and returned to sit on one foot using the other and her beak to pluck the fat grass hen she'd taken. One of the warriors walked slowly to stoop beneath her busy claws and retrieve some of the undamaged feathers. He plucked grass and some of the puffs from the puff bushes. From these he twisted an odd shape, which Storm studied with interest.
The thin grass cord had become a net that imprisoned several of the puffs, and below on a further length of cord hung a tiny swirl of soft breast feathers. The warrior looked up to see Storm's gaze fixed on him. He spoke to the one who knew how to sign. Storm waited. The oldest warrior turned to look at him, then his fingers spoke.
"We pray to the Thunder which lives in the sky. This is our prayer sent up to the Thunder. All birds belong to the Thunder. That tree is a sacred tree." His hand pointed to a lone falwood tree. "We send the feathers of a bird and sacred-tree leaves to speak for us. You understand?"
Storm nodded. The puffs were lighter than air, since at the right time of the year they would detach from their bush and float away to seed a new bush in some other location. He also understood the idea, it was not so different from many he'd known as a small boy on Earth. He watched as the warrior holding the odd construction walked toward a solitary falwood tree. He collected several of the dry leaves and wove the pieces through the puffs. Then he returned to the fire and in turn each warrior touched the small ball of grass and puffs. Then it was carried to the edge of the camp.
The warrior who had made it raised it up into the air. The wind came in a greater gust and it sailed from his fingers out across the land below the small rise on which they had camped. Storm watched. The floating symbol rose and fell in the air, dipping and swaying with the small feathers below swinging on the thin grass cord. It did not touch ground again for so long as he could see. The Nitra about him twittered approval. The oldest turned to Storm and signed.
"That is good. The Thunder has heard and listens to us. Our prayer is accepted. Now we make camp and sleep. Tomorrow the ride will be long, but the next night we sleep with clan."
Storm nodded. He shared Surra's gift with the Nitra, who roasted it over the campfire. Everyone ate quickly, before Storm rolled into his blanket and slept. He was alert enough to mark the guard change as each Nitra in turn took watch, but other than that awareness he slept well. He woke to saddle his mount with the others of the group.
"Which way do we ride?"
"Toward the mountains. It will be a long ride. Will the big animal be able to keep up?"
That was a problem, Storm thought. Surra had been tired enough by last night and they'd only ridden half a day. She'd be unable to stay with them in a complete day of hard riding. Nor was it practical to take her with him on his mount. He could let her ride behind the saddle briefly, for a short lift across a wide shallow stream or over some other obstacle the big cat did not approve, yes. But not as a second rider for many hours. He looked up.
"She cannot run so long. Maybeso we can ride slower, take a while longer to reach the camp?"
There was a twittering of discussion. It became heated, then died as the oldest Nitra spoke in tones of decision. Then he signed,
"We can take an extra day. Ride more slowly. But that is not so safe. Death-Which-Comes-in-the-Night hunts here in these lands. We wish to leave swiftly from this place. We listen to your wisdom."
Surra came to rub against Storm's knee and he stroked her. More than once she had ridden on supply carts. She'd been carried on a packhorse that was only lightly loaded, apart from Surra. The ranch horses, which were used to her, would accept carrying her at need and at Storm's command. It would be uncomfortable for her to ride and they had no spare mount, anyhow.
He worried that what he said might bring trouble. If Surra couldn't keep up, they could decide to see that she stayed behind—permanently. Although, their Thunder-Drummer had said to bring him and they seemed to coun
t the team as part of that order. He dropped to squat on his heels, his fingers flicking through the signs.
"I do not wish to make danger for you. But where I go the big animal goes too. Maybeso you ride on ahead, leave me signs for the trail. I can follow more slowly with the spirit friend."
"We do not leave you alone."
That was one idea that he could discard. Storm signed again. "Anyplace you know that may keep away thing that kills in night?"
"There is noplace we know where that is sure."
That was another idea he could forget. "Any road shorter? Maybeso with help of spirit friends there is a shorter road I could take? I take that with them, I go ahead and you catch up to me later?"
That produced a vigorous twittering from one of the warriors. His fingers pointed and his hands waved as Storm struggled to understand. It appeared the Nitra did know of a shortcut that might be taken if. . . the finger-talker returned to Storm.
"That warrior hunted here once many seasons ago before we moved camp. He say there may be a shorter road but it is not easy."
Sometime later Storm was agreeing heartily with that. Still, he was fascinated by the path they were traveling. It hadn't been made by the natives; that was certain. Instead it was akin to the steps he had once used that were cut into the cliff near the sealed caves. This was another cliff, but it led down into a deep canyon. On the far side the shallow niche steps led upward again.
Three of the Nitra had taken all of the mounts and were riding hard to reach the far side by passing around the canyon head. At that end the rush of water over generations had flattened out the end of the rocks, so a ridden horse could climb down and back up the shallower slope. Storm and the youngest member of the Nitra quartet were on foot with Surra. Hing clung to Storm's shoulder as they trotted along the animal track. Something used this path, but what he couldn't say. The earth was beaten hard and the light rains had not yet penetrated this far into the desert.
They reached the other side of the canyon and Hing leaped down to begin the scramble upward. The steps had never been deep, Storm believed. After years of erosion they were even shallower now and there were places where it was hard to climb. By the time they reached the top both were breathing hard and pleased to rest a while before the mounts and riders came in sight again. Only Surra had found the way short and easy and she was always happy to relax in the sun. But the canyon climb had taken many miles from the journey.
Now they had no need to hurry. Those who had ridden had changed mounts back and forth, making more speed than usual. They could ride steadily but quietly, allowing their mounts time to cool down, and still reach the camp before nightfall. Yet there was agitation amongst the riders as they came up with Storm and his companion. They said nothing until both were mounted again and they had turned onto the trail. Then the oldest warrior nudged his mount to ride beside that of Storm. His hands began to weave the story.
"Many groups from the clan have gone out at the command of our Thunder-Drummer. Our scout found signs left on this trail that another group rides with success." Storm wondered what unfortunate had been seized, and what attributes had made the Nitra believe this other one to be special, but the fingers continued to flash signs. He concentrated.
"It is ill fortune for a group that went before us, on the same trail into your lands. The scout saw no sign they had returned. He rode back along the trail to seek them out. He found only death. He thinks they found no one who was as our Thunder-Drummer described. So they begin to ride back again. They camped that night in a shelter by rocks. Death came in the night for them."
"Ill fortune for warriors," Storm signed back. "All were dead? No one escaped the Death-Which-Comes-in-the-Night?"
"No one."
"How did this happen? Did none guard, watch over sleep of friends?"
The signs seemed to take on an exasperated tone. "They were all young. Young warriors fear nothing, believing themselves invincible. They slept without guard by the fire. They died where they lay."
So four young and careless Nitra had been killed. What had happened to their mounts, then? There had been none brought along by the riders of this group. Storm asked.
"That is strange. The other group who finds one to bring for the Thunder-Drummer, they camped at that shelter first. Our scout says the signs are clear. They camped there only a little time, then they packed and left the camp. They took a site further away down the trail. At first light one of them went back to the first camp, found what had happened. They gave the dead the clan rites, then they took the horses and rode for the clan."
Storm mulled over the information. It seemed that someone in that first group must have felt danger. The horses were the interesting thing. The killer had taken four Nitra, smaller prey, when they could have had four horses.
"Your other group took the dead warriors' horses? Why did the horses not run when Death-in-the-Night came?"
The oldest Nitra made it clear he understood the implications.
"The horses were tied very tight and could not get free easily. They were a small way from the camp. There was much sign, the horses fought hard to be free but could not escape. Yet Death-Which-Comes-in-the-Night did not take horses. It chose Nitra. Frawns died before Nitra. Horses died before Nitra. But now Death-Which-Comes has tasted Nitra blood, it takes Nitra only if it can find us."
Damn. If that was right, whatever these things were, they were targeting people. They'd take animals if they found nothing else to hunt and eat. But if there were people around they'd take them in preference. Were people easier prey, or did they taste better?
"I found a young warrior of our people dead by that death," Storm signed, thinking as his hands moved. "His blankets where he'd bled on them were eaten, the wood of his bed chewed, too, where his blood was on it. You find horses dead. Is it so with them? Is the ground where blood was spilled eaten away?"
"Not so. But so where the Nitra die. Death feasts on our blood. It seeks out every drop and leaves nothing."
That must be at least a part of it. There was something in the blood of the natives and humans that attracted the killers.
"Your people are great hunters. You travel far trails in the desert. You even know trails across the Big Blue. Have any of your clan ever known death like this before?"
"We have never seen it. In all clan history our Thunder-Drummer says there is no knowledge of this."
"Humans and Nitra die. Horses and frawns die. Have you seen the bones of other kills? What else does this thing kill?"
"We see the bones of feefaw birds. There are more than usual. Not so very many more, but more than die most seasons. We think that is not the death itself. With less frawn in these lands, the feefaw have less frawn hair for nests. The nestlings die more easily from the cold at night. The parents use the nests later. They too die from winter cold if the hair is not there for lining. We do not see other bones."
Storm rode in silence the rest of the day. Already this killer thing was causing subsidiary deaths. That wasn't good at all, and it was like a puzzle. What did humans, Nitra, and Norbies have in common with horses and frawns, apart from life itself? Hing rode happily, squeaking now and again as she saw something that interested her. Storm refused to put her down and by the time they reached the camp she was indignant about it. However, he continued to grip her gently. If she vanished into one of the Nitra shelters she could be mistaken for a danger. He had no desire to have her injured or killed.
Her complaints came louder and he was vaguely aware of someone approaching him.
"I'll take her."
It took a breath before he realized that the words had been spoken. His gaze jerked downward to meet that of Tani. "What are you doing here?" he gritted through his horror.
"Jumps High asked for my help. He said the medicine woman wanted to talk to me." Mistaking the reason for his agitation, Tani was reassuring. "It's okay. I sent Mandy to tell the ranch about it. They know I'm with Norbie friends."
Norbies
! Friends! Storm opened his mouth and shut it again abruptly. How could she know? It seemed no one had thought to tell her about the Nitra. That they were the wild tribes in contrast to the Norbies' more civilized ones. That they hung the hacked-off bow hands of enemies in their shelter smoke-holes to cure. Or that they warred with humans, Norbie, and even other Nitra tribes on occasions. That they ... he held himself motionless as one of the Nitra warriors walked up to the girl. She turned to face him and their hands flashed. So, she'd learned the finger-talk somewhere. Probably from tapes, her signs were the more formal versions. Not fast but quite fluent. He read the signs and blinked.
Tani was addressed as a clan-friend and cousin to the warrior who spoke. His gaze was caught by a movement and he saw the girl's coyote pair slipping through the crowd to rejoin her. The Nitra appeared to accept them. His gaze shifted to scan the camp. There, on the branch of a dead tree. The paraowl. He looked back at Tani in time to see the warrior finish signing, then pat her shoulder as he left. Storm said nothing but his eyes widened, then narrowed slightly.
That had been something about a new name. He remembered Nitra customs and half guessed at some of the reasons she might be safe. He dismounted slowly and handed Hing to the girl.
"She wants to explore. Can you tell your friends that she won't hurt anybody and if she takes anything she shouldn't, I'll give it back."
Tani nodded, her hands moving as she faced the crowd, smiling happily. To Storm's amazement some of the Nitra smiled back at her. He waited until she had finished and released Hing, who scurried off at once.
Beast Master's Ark Page 10
