The Blood of Ten Chiefs

by Robert Asprin

  It was over.

  He shook himself. With some strain he pulled his hand away from his face and forced his eyes open. "Do you hear anything strange?" he asked.

  An eerie shiver went down Woodlock's spine, judging by the way his shoulders hunched slightly. "No… do you?"

  "Strongbow?"

  **Nothing.** The archer still looked at him, but now his expression was different.

  "You didn't send?" Bearclaw asked. This disturbed his friends. Bearclaw didn't ask things twice.

  **Just told you.**

  "Someone from the holt?" Woodlock hoped.

  Bearclaw struck him with a reproving look and barked, "I know all of you."

  Woodlock almost apologized, but frowned instead and moved a few steps down the branch, away from his chief. "We should get out of the tree. If it happens again, you might fall."

  "Yes…" Bearclaw fought to clear his mind. "Out of the tree."

  They didn't have to help him down. He had recovered quite enough to drop steadily into the ferns below by himself, but they did watch him. By the time they were all standing at the base of the tree together, Woodlock was muttering again; it gave him comfort to think things out aloud, even as Strongbow found solace in his perpetual silence. "It could be a trick," the gentle elf suggested. "Maybe the humans have found out how to send and are trying to draw us out."

  Bearclaw shook his head. "Those five-fingered stench piles have all the cunning of dry moss. Humans sending- that doesn't make sense."

  **Who needs sense?** Strongbow argued.**We know what they're doing. It's time to respond, Bearclaw.**

  "No. Not yet."

  **Are you saying we're not going to fight? Not going to kill them?**

  "We'll fight. But killing humans might not be like killing deer. I don't want to go in blind."

  **I'd go in hacking.**

  "You would. But you don't have the whole tribe to worry about, and I do."

  Woodlock's mouth curled upward on one side. "Good for you," he said. He didn't care what Strongbow thought.

  The archer gripped his bow tighter and brandished it threateningly before Bearclaw.**But it's the Way.**

  Bearclaw struck him with a look. ' 'Maybe the Way doesn't work all the time. I have to find out why they're coming toward the holt."

  **We're easy prey if we wait. They'll find the Father Tree-**

  Sharp knuckles crashed across Strongbow's jawline, reeling him backward. Somehow he managed to stay on his feet and brought a trembling hand to his mouth.

  "I know that, stinkhole!" Bearclaw hissed. "Think past Now for once! There's something different about this." He paced away, his body taut and twitching, bare arms strung like bowstrings. He spun on Strongbow, his words striking out in a personal attack. "Use your head for something other than a place to put your nose. We can't kill them all, no matter how well we fight. And we'll have to kill every last human once we start. If we don't, they'll come back on us like bad meat and we'll never be done with it. Don't forget how easily they can have more whelps."

  **They're vulnerable at night,** Strongbow shot back.**And they're stupid. They spread themselves too thin. We can kill them now!**

  **We can't!**

  Strongbow had to lean forward slightly to brace against the abrupt shock of Bearclaw's sending.

  The chief spun around and blasted with molten thought.**This is more than just an attack on the holt, fool!**

  "We have to use more than our instincts, Strongbow," Woodlock echoed.

  Strongbow lashed out instantly. His nail-hard sending made Woodlock flinch.**Stay out of this!**

  Suddenly the archer was wrenched back around by a force more physical than sending could ever be. He found himself face to face with ferocity. Bearclaw's eyes speared at him, looking ultimately wolfen tonight-nothing elfin here anymore. "Leave him alone."

  The two elves locked glares and did not look away.

  Without blinking, Bearclaw rumbled, "I gave you something to do, Woodlock. Do it."

  Woodlock knew he lacked the strength to stand between these two if they were truly determined to challenge each other. With a despondent sigh, he set his lips and melted into the forest.

  Bearclaw gritted his teeth at Strongbow. "Are you challenging my authority9''

  **What if I am? Who says your line must be the only chiefs of the Wolfriders? The rest of us have something to say about it too.**

  "Oh? Do you? And who would be chief? You? Treestump? Maybe Rain or Woodlock."

  **Or my lifemate. She's got all your experience and four times your judgment. I spit on your chief-blood.**

  Bearclaw circled the archer now, prowling around him with a disgusted expression curdling his features. "You do and I'll make you lick it up. You're the one who always wants to follow the Way. Well, the Way says from parent to cub-my parent to my cub-straight back to Timmorn's blood."

  **Too bad you don't have Timmorn's brain.**

  Bearclaw's teeth showed as his lips quivered back in rage. Veins bulged in his arms. Too furious to speak, he sent his feelings directly to Strongbow's mind.**I should kill you for that.**

  Strongbow's head snapped sideways, his gaze landing on the mossy ground beside him.**Tonight might mean the deaths of many Wolfriders. Including you.**

  They leered at each other with a mutual bitterness so spiny it nearly drew blood. Finally, Bearclaw broke the spell. "Then you can howl ever my carcass."

  He stalked off the way Woodlock had gone. Behind him, torchlight flickered between the trees.

  He was still stalking when Woodlock popped out of the branches, breathing heavily, and gasped, "I counted twice eight of them. And there are more coming from the camp. I'm sure they outnumber us."

  Bearclaw thought about it. What Strongbow said made sense* If a chief had said those things, there might never be a chance to think about it; it would already be done. But because the ideas came from a source outside himself, Bearclaw automatically resisted. Yet Strongbow's logic was good. Certainly the humans would spare nothing and no one if they found the holt, no matter what caused the anger. Sixteen or more humans…

  In his mind, Bearclaw carefully considered his Wolfriders. They could all hunt, of course, but fighting was different. Redmark was the best tracker and he loved the chase, but he usually left the actual kill to someone else, unless he was alone. Clearbrook could fight as well as Bearclaw himself, but she thought she might be with cub and he didn't want to take any chances. Amber was fair with a knife, but she had an infant even younger than Bearclaw's tiny son-the little she-cub called Nightfall. Skywise…no. Too young for this kind of thing. Eager, but too young. One-Eye-yes. Now, there was a fighter. Steady, but willing to give in to the killer's instinct at the appropriate second. Strongbow-went without saying. The archer's lifemate, Moonshade, was always dependable, especially if she and Strongbow could fight near each other. Rain… no. Rain never participated in the

  hunt, coming along with the hunting party only to ease the death-pain of an animal who had not died quickly. He would put the thrashing, agonized prey at ease, calming it so that its last moments would not be moments of terror, until the Wolfriders could dispatch it with a single thrust to the brain. Then there was Longreach, as good at amusing the tribe as he was with**Blood guilt.**

  Bearclaw staggered. His hands clamped the sides of his head. He plunged sideways into Strongbow, who had followed him through the forest at a slight distance.

  "Bearclaw!" Woodlock caught the chief's elbow.

  Something was in his mind. Bearclaw knew that for certain now. "Stay back," he choked, wrenching away from the others and stumbling to the center of the clearing.

  **Dangerous.**

  Grimacing, his teeth bared again, he forced his hands down and willed himself to relax. Something was trying to overpower him-or contact him. There on the mossy mound in the clearing, he stood still.

  Strongbow and Woodlock shared an uncomfortable glance-almost an embarrassed awareness of each other-and immediately look
ed once again at Bearclaw's back. He turned away from them. They couldn't see his face at all.

  Bearclaw no longer fought the invasion. He gave himself to the impassioned sending as it overwhelmed his thoughts and replaced them. He felt nauseated, disoriented. Pictures of carnage flooded his mind-images of mutilation, of blades or teeth chiseling through bone while on the run-panic- splattering flesh-blood.

  Were they images of madness? Or intent? -And which was worse?

  "There's something out there."

  The others stiffened behind him.

  **Humans?**

  "Not humans. Something else."

  Woodlock unconsciously moved closer to Strongbow. "And it's sending? What could do that?"

  **Animal?**

  "One of our wolves?" Woodlock offered.

  Bearclaw frowned. "Our wolves don't send like… like what I'm getting."

  "What are you getting?"

  "Images… no-feelings. Like the hunt and the kill."

  "Something out there means to kill?"

  "Or has already," Bearclaw concluded.

  Woodlock scanned the forestscape with new apprehension. "And the humans are blaming us… Bearclaw, what can we do? Reason with them?"

  **Invite them home for a game of stones,** Strongbow sent on a sting of bitterness.

  Woodlock's anxiety made him face the archer boldly now. "But I don't want to die fighting a cause that's not ours! The Wolfriders shouldn't pay for something we didn't do."

  Insulted, Strongbow pushed past him and confronted Bearclaw.**What is it? Can you tell?**

  The night became a bodiless enemy, its silence like an animal's throaty growl. The three Wolfriders stood alone in its midst. Even Woodlock and Strongbow imagined they felt something-perhaps only because Bearclaw did.

  "A bear," the chief murmured, "or a big cat… a longtooth-maggots! I don't know. Maybe something we've never seen before. It's out there, hiding or waiting…"

  "But how can it be sending?" The tremor came out in Woodlock's words no matter how hard he tried to steady it. He forced himself to unclench his fists, loathing the images of Rainsong's beautiful face crumpled in fear when she learned of this. He longed to have the problem solved and finished before he had to go back to the holt and tell her what was going on. Bearclaw would surely order him home when

  things got bad-he always did. Woodlock knew he was nothing with a blade and only fair with a bow, but he shuddered at the idea of waiting at the holt to see if death was coming tonight. "If it killed humans, how can we defeat it? And if it hurt them, why would they head toward our trees?"

  "Maybe they don't know what it is either," Bearclaw said. "If you were human and you didn't know what animal hurt you, what would you think?"

  Woodlock stared at him and tried to put it together. Bearclaw waited, hardly even breathing, forcing his tribe-mate to piece out the problem. It was hard for a Wolfrider to think like a human, to imagine life among the animals and trees while not really a part of them. The humans hid from the night- usually-and they either hunted or feared all the creatures of the forest. Woodlock's task was a strain. Bearclaw continued to wait.

  "No…" Woodlock's eyes drifted closed. "Our wolves!"

  **Our wolves?** Strongbow hadn't put it together yet, either.**What do you mean? What do the humans want with our-** He stopped suddenly, and nearly choked on his own sending. His eyes glazed with sudden knowledge.

  Bearclaw looked at him. "Now you know. And Woodlock's right. We shouldn't pay for another beast's kill. And neither should our wolves. We've got to get the humans off our trail. Woodlock, go back to the holt and tell our pack to move into the hills and stay away for a few days."

  "But if we have to fight-"

  **We can't fight the humans without our wolves!**

  "Swallow it, Strongbow! We'll fight them on squirrel-back if I say we will. Get going, Woodlock."

  "All right… Bearclaw?"

  "What?"

  This time Woodlock's message was sent rather than spoken, excluding Strongbow as he gazed at his chief.**We'll follow you, no matter what happens.**

  Touched to calmness, Bearclaw breathed deeply and squeezed Woodlock's shoulder. Then he gestured him off into the woods toward the holt.

  He and his archer stood in the core of their home forest, between their holt and the encroaching humans, whose torchfire they could now smell strongly as it wafted through the trees.

  "We've got to find the longtooth," Bearclaw said.

  **First sensible thing you've said all night.**

  Bearclaw hovered a moment before leading the way in the direction the poignant sending had come from. "Let's hope it's not the last."

  The images of fear and hurt and flesh flayed to the bone led Bearclaw unerringly to the area of forest where the beasts lay together in their thicket. As he came nearer, he moved more slowly, trying to piece together more and more of the images as they came to him. They no longer caused him pain, but something was touching the deepmost parts of his being-even his soulname fluttered toward the surface now.

  And that frightened him.

  Could he be so much beast himself that a longtooth or a demon-beast or something with thoughts so horrible could actually reach his soulname? Joyleaf knew his soulname, as a Recognized lifemate must. And Crest had known it before she died. She had been his wolf for moons uncounted, and when she saved his life during an attack by enraged waterbirds in the far lakes, Bearclaw had given her his soulname in gratitude. It was part of the Way, as Strongbow would have insisted, but it was also a matter of choice.

  Now, though, he had no choice. His soulname floated near the beast's sending star at the top of his mind, swimming in and out of the kill-thoughts, ready to jump into one of them and be taken freely by the invader. All at once he had something else to guard besides his holt and his tribe. The barriers to his personal self were being clawed down. Only

  constantly reminding himself that he was chief and had responsibilities kept him from fleeing in the opposite direction, farther and farther from the distressing thought waves gushing over him now. Behind him, Strongbow was still apparently unaffected. This sending came only to Bearclaw. So close now, he ached to know what beast this was who stirred his soulname and almost caught it.

  Before them, still many paces away, lay a giant fallen tree, sheathed in vines. Its plate of roots rose high out of the ground. Evidently some cataclysm of the earth had pushed it out, and it had collapsed, sacrificing itself to the nourishment of other life. Now it hid the source of Bearclaw's shredded perceptions. He stopped. Behind him, Strongbow stopped too.

  "There," the chief said quietly. "It's there."

  **Will it attack?**

  "If it has to," Bearclaw whispered.

  In his mind he saw a blackness that had life-a creature more dark than a bottomless pit, blacker than the starless sky, driven by instinct and yet-more than instinct. It knew the difference between sense and impulse. It had chosen to send; he felt that clearly.

  **We'll have to kill it.** Strongbow drew an arrow.**I'll do it.**

  "Stay where you are. I haven't decided yet."

  **What needs deciding? It's the only way we can prove to the humans that we didn't hurt them.**

  "I'm getting tired of you. Now stay here."

  **You're not going alone.**

  "I'll go as I please," the chief snapped, teeth showing. Moment by moment he became more like the images he saw.

  He started forward, slowly, but a hand in the crook of his elbow pulled him back. Astonished, he looked to his side and saw the face of embodied determination.

  **You are not,** Strongbow sent,**going alone.**

  Mellowed by the disorientation in his mind, Bearclaw let

  himself be overcome by Strongbow's willingness to face the unknown at his side. Others would not be so willing, he knew. It was a gift. He would accept it. "Then, follow."

  He moved once again toward the wall of vines.

  The two elves moved carefully, one
step at a time, around the huge plate of torn roots, around to the other side where hedgy overgrowth concealed their quarry. Strongbow kept his bow nocked and ready to fire. A longtooth or a bear would attack instantly, without warning. He couldn't be sure of Bearclaw's condition, with all this sending and confusion, but he was sure of himself and kept the arrow leveled over Bearclaw's shoulder.

  "I feel pain," Bearclaw said, hushed, "but not body-pain."

  **What, then?**

  "Heart-pain."

  Strongbow resisted the cold shiver that ran down his arms.**Didn't know you had a heart.**

  Even in the midst of "heart-pain," Bearclaw smiled his wicked smile.

  They stopped abruptly as a faint glow of torch flame washed across the vines before them. The humans were coming closer. Time was sifting away.

  The elves froze still and remained still until the torch glow passed. Each of them felt the new urgency-having passed them, the humans were now between them and the holt. If anything was to be done, it must be done soon.

  Too soon for Strongbow.

  He nudged Bearclaw out of the way and approached the vine hedge quickly, before Bearclaw could shake off the numbness of the beast's sending.

  The chief blinked, his concentration broken. To his horror, Bearclaw watched his archer shove through the vines and take aim at a looming shape that rose before them there. He heard the twang of the bowstring and a distinct thud as the arrow struck not flesh, but the hard ground. Incredible! Strongbow had missedSounds of struggle flashed at him, both into his ears and into his mind through sending. Strongbow was sucked into the vines. The leaves closed up.

  "Strongbow!" Bearclaw rushed forward, eyes so wide they burned. He grated to a stop at the vine hedge, gripped by a notion no Wolfrider had had before; the beast sent whole-thought into his mind!

  Reversing the course, he sent,**Don't hurt! We can help!**