Ratha's Courage (5 page)

“Yesterday we tried several ways of holding it on,” Thakur explained. “This seems to work the best.”

Ratha studied the way they had threaded and tangled the strips so that two ran under the mare’s belly, one across her chest and one behind her rump, below her tail.

The mare only grunted and blinked as the chest, belly, and breech straps were pulled tight. Thistle did have some trouble with the bellybands. Ratha thought they were tight, but when she looked again, they were hanging loose.

“Bump her in the belly with your head,” Thakur instructed Thistle. “She’s holding her breath.”

When Thistle did, the mare let out the inhaled air with a whoosh. This time the bellybands stayed cinched.

Thakur stood back, cocking his head and eyeing the result.

“A little big, but good enough. Now we need a cub.”

Ashon volunteered. Ratha helped Thakur lift him onto the mare while Thistle held the horse.

“Don’t let her go,” the cub said, sounding slightly nervous. His scent took on the slight saltiness of paw pad sweat. “I haven’t done this before.”

“We won’t,” Ratha answered. “This is just to see if it works.”

“Face-tail chaser scared of a dappleback?” Thistle teased Ashon.

“It’s one thing herding beasts. Riding them is another,” the cub retorted.

Ratha and Thakur backed away. Ashon settled onto the mare, gripping the hide covering with his claws.

“He’s a bit big for her,” Ratha observed. “He should be on one of the striper colts.”

“This first,” Thakur said firmly, and Ratha agreed.

With his teeth, Ashon grabbed a strap that lay low across the horse’s neck and shoulders.

“Feels good,” he said, his voice muffled by the hide between his teeth. “I won’t fall off.”

“Move around a little,” Thakur said.

Ashon shifted his weight. The hide stayed in place.

“Good, it’s not slipping. All right, cub, get down.”

Ashon hopped off the dappleback, who lowered her head and gave him a friendly nudge.

“Let’s make a few more of these hides and try them on the other herdbeasts,” Thakur suggested. “Ratha, what do you think?”

“I think that you have all done very well,” she answered, impressed by the accomplishment. Keep working with it.”

As they turned once more to the task, Ratha took her leave and set about once more on her rounds.

She enjoyed her people’s often startling inventiveness. It might well be that quality that would see them through instead of strength, determination, or even the protection of the Red Tongue.

When the sun was lower, Ratha went with Thakur and two cubs, Mishanti and Ashon, to the dappleback herd. The horses liked the mixture of sunlight and shade of the meadow’s edge.

Thakur stopped, nosed the two cubs forward. “Each one of you, choose a dappleback.”

Mishanti wrinkled his nose in a squint that wrinkled his tear-lines as he peered hard at the animals. He slid his paws forward, bowing his spine and arching his tail over his back until it nearly touched his shoulders. Then he made his decision, pawing in the air to point. “That one. Smells tame. Faded spots, white-speckled mane.”

“Ashon?”

The cub sat down and calmly surveyed the herd. “The light tan mare with black legs.”

Obviously the cubs were making choices based on their experience. The selected animals showed small scratch-scars on their shoulders, sides, and rumps.

The dapplebacks were lazy and not inclined to bolt and run. Together Ratha and Thakur strolled into the herd and easily separated out one horse at a time. They then turned each dappleback over to the cub that had picked it. Ratha watched, inhaling the horsey dry-grass aroma as the cubs exercised their herding skills by driving each dappleback in turn to the old oak. There, treelings would tie on the protective hide and the holding strap.

Ratha stayed close to Mishanti, and Thakur watched Ashon to make sure the cubs’ intended mounts didn’t have a burst of spirit and escape the young herders.

“Bet your dappleback throws you off,” Mishanti teased Ashon. Ratha noticed that the smaller cub’s speech was getting better, more understandable. He was using clan inflections and losing some of the oddities he had picked up from Thistle.

“Bet yours steps on your tail,” Ashon taunted back. He was taller and leaner than Mishanti, although he was actually younger. Ashon was one of Drani’s sons from her latest litter. Although where he’d gotten that silky background color and silver tipping on his face and feet, Ratha had no idea.

The cub would be beautiful when his spots faded completely. His appearance made Ratha think of the two male cubs from her first and only litter. Thistle-chaser’s siblings—they would be nearly full grown by now. Ratha wondered briefly what they looked and smelled like. Their smell would be similar to hers and Thistle’s, but with the distinctly male variation.

Her ears went back and down at the sharp bite of sorrow, but she swatted the feeling away before it could take hold. Having Thistle back was an unexpected gift; finding any of her brothers would be even more unlikely.

Quickly Ratha brought her attention back to Mishanti. He was getting distracted, letting his dappleback stray and graze. She trotted alongside the horse, giving it a meaningful glance to let it know that she was watching, even it Mishanti wasn’t.

Despite Thakur’s teaching and patience, Mishanti just wasn’t a very good herder. She was thankful that Ashon was shaping up to be an excellent herder, perhaps even good enough to become a teacher, like Thakur. That demonstration with the face-tail had been more than impressive, and Ratha liked the cub’s spirit. Ashon also paid full attention to what he was doing. His dappleback moved on briskly, with no hint of straying.

When the party arrived at the old oak, several other herding students held each horse gently with their forepaws while treelings tied the straps under its belly, beneath its tail, and across its chest. Though the horses tossed their heads and squealed, the hold-on strap went over their ears and down their short manes, resting around their shoulders.

Mishanti was eager to climb aboard, but Ratha delayed him, having him join with other young herders to surround the horse and escort it to the riding area. Ashon watched as his hide-draped dappleback was also ringed and moved. The cub looked calm, but Ratha could see his tail tip jumping like a cornered mouse in the grass.

Both cubs could hardly suppress their excitement as they followed their mounts. Ratha and Thakur trailed a short distance behind them. More of the Named joined them, curious about what was happening.

“All right,” announced Thakur, when they reached the show area. “Now pay attention. You, especially, Mishanti,” he warned when he saw the cub staring across the low grass at the assembled onlookers.

“Know rules,” Mishanti grumbled.

“Listen anyway,” Ratha hissed.

Thakur repeated the guidelines. The cubs competed in pairs, and the one who fell on the ground first was the loser. The thrown rider was to get his or her tail safely out of the arena, leaving the dappleback to be rounded up by the herders. Claws could be sunk into the protective pad only. Clawing or biting the horse would get a cub disqualified, as would an attempt to scratch his opponent’s mount. An accidental collision was allowed, but not a deliberate one.

Barely waiting for Thakur’s command to start, Mishanti and Ashon galloped to their dapplebacks. The herders held each beast steady as Ratha lifted Mishanti on by the scruff, pawed the hold strap into his mouth, and saw that he was securely settled on his pad. Thakur did the same with Ashon.

Ratha spoke quickly to Mishanti. “Remember, if it gets too wild, or Ashon’s dappleback gets too close to yours, jump off.”

The dappleback holders moved both animals apart. This would minimize the chances of a collision at the start.

“Ready?” Thakur howled, “Go!”

The herders in front of each cub-dappleback pair retreated quickly. Each little horse sprang free to the sound of cheers from the audience. Both cubs had supporters who yowled encouragement.

“Stay on him, Mishanti!” Among the voices, Ratha heard Fessran’s and Thistle’s.

“Ashon, show that daughter of a dappleback who is the herder!” That cry was from Thakur. Ratha decided to encourage both cubs and added her voice to the tumult.

The gray cub’s mount reared and plunged, throwing its rider’s hindquarters into the air. Ashon clung with his foreclaws, cub-fangs sunk deeply into the hold-on strap, tail whirling for balance.

Mishanti’s mount was more of a runner than a bucker, but the herders blocked its path, forcing it back into the arena. It then decided to scrape Mishanti off against a tree, but the cub was ready. Claws securely fastened in the pad, Mishanti hung his body over the opposite side. When the dappleback tried to rub him off on the opposite side, the cub hung the other way.

He almost lost his hold and he did lose his satisfied grin when the dappleback leaped up, trying to slam the cub against a low-hanging bough. He flattened, barely avoiding getting mashed.

Ashon’s dappleback bucked in tight, stiff-legged circles, snapping the cub’s head back and forth, but he clung with the same determination he had showed while mastering the young face-tail.

A “Yeharrrooow!” was jerked out of Mishanti as his mount leaped and twisted beneath him. It reared, flailing its four-toed feet and jerking Mishanti’s front claws loose. He slid backward on his pad, and the hold-on strap ripped out of his mouth. The little horse threw its heels up and its head down, standing on its front feet. The dappleback’s kicking handstand brought the cub’s tail and hindquarters into abrupt contact with the horse’s rump. Mishanti sailed high in the air, tumbling and squalling.

Ratha watched, mouth open. He would land a lot harder than she anticipated. Ouch!

However, the arch of his flight took him into a tree. With a crash, he landed in the leafy crown and bounced down a few branches while the tree swayed.

A whisker-flick later, Ratha also saw Ashon leave his mount, flying forward between the dappleback’s ears. Fortunately he spread his legs and landed on his feet.

Amid the resulting caterwauling applause, the herders rounded up the two dapplebacks and ran them out of the arena.

Ratha saw Thakur run to Mishanti’s tree. The cub was already backing down slowly, yelling something Ratha couldn’t hear over the other noise. She saw Mishanti jump onto Thakur’s back and ride him as the herding teacher paced back to Ratha.

“Sorry, Mishanti,” she said. “Ashon won.”

“Didn’t,” Mishanti sputtered. “Have to land on the ground to finish. Rules don’t say about landing in a tree.”

Thakur glanced at the cub over his shoulder.

Ratha took advantage of the opportunity to tease the herding teacher. “He’s right. The rules don’t say anything about trees.”

“Then we’ll have to make one. Hitting a tree is the same as hitting the ground.”

“Not for this ride,” Mishanti insisted. “Didn’t touch the ground until after Ashon.”

“Yes, but you were off your dappleback before Ashon was thrown from his,” Thakur winced as Mishanti climbed down off his back. “Cub, the rule against scratching applies to me as well as the dapplebacks.”

“Okay, change rules now, but still I won.”

“He has a point, herding teacher.”

“He has too many of them,” Thakur grumbled. Faced with such determination, the herding teacher capitulated. “All right. Both of you won. You both can go again against someone else. Understood?”

Whiskers lifted in amusement, Ratha left him and continued her rounds.

Chapter Three

The meadow was large and irregular, with smaller areas fenced off by brush and low trees. In one such corner, Ratha found Cherfan guarding a herd of three-horn deer while his partner for the day, red-gold Bira, tended a watch fire nearby.

Bira was an unusual and striking color for the Named, who tended to be shades of brown and tan, some with faint spots that lingered from their cubhood. The hue of Bira’s long fur was most intense down her back, deep gold tipped with reds and oranges. Her one vanity was her beautifully plumed tail.

Bira had two treelings sitting on her back. One started to jump up and down with excitement as Ratha approached.

“Here she is,” said Bira to the bouncing treeling, as the Firekeeper and Ratha touched noses and slid along one another.

“Was Ratharee any trouble?” Ratha asked, as the little female sprang from Bira’s back to Ratha’s nape.

“Oh no. She just visited with Cherfaree while I looked after the fire.”

Cherfaree was Bira’s new treeling. She had selflessly given up her original treeling, Biaree, to Thistle-chaser when Ratha’s daughter needed him to tie ropes to True-of-voice during the rescue. Bira had named this new one after her one-time mate Cherfan because she was fond of him, but also liked to tease him.

Bira’s new partner was from the second litter that Aree, the original treeling, had birthed. Aree was getting a few gray hairs around the muzzle but was still as lively as ever. Ratha wondered how long treelings lived. She hoped Thakur and Aree would have many more seasons together.

She felt Ratharee starting to groom her nape as she took her leave and went on.

In another section of the meadow, she found the main herd of dapplebacks. New foals played with one another, rearing and play-kicking with their four-toed feet. Their sweaty wet-fur scent blended with the fresh grass. Mondir and Drani watched these animals. Gray-brown Mondir was the same age as Ratha and had trained with her under Thakur. Hazel-eyed Drani was several seasons older, having been born under Meoran’s rule. She had startled Ratha by asking to be trained as a herder. She wanted to give the clan more than just cubs, although they were important to her as well.

Thakur had given Drani one-on-one attention, since she was more mature and disciplined than his cub-students. Both had enjoyed the process, and Drani emerged as a dedicated herder who worked best with dapplebacks; she was fond of the little horses and gentle with them.

Ratha didn’t have to inspect the herd closely. Trusting the two herders, she gave the horses a quick sniff, and departed.