middle of his years. His body was firm and well-muscled and there was nothing wrong with his eyesight, which saw far more than Mika gave him credit for. Enor had great hopes for the young man to realize his potential, but the clan as a whole was his responsibility and no one member, no matter the circumstances, could be allowed to disrupt it.
The silence stretched out to an uncomfortable length. At last, just as Celia gave a tiny hiccuping sob somewhere in the shadows, and a pine knot cracked on the fire, spreading a bright shower of incandescent sparks that sprayed through the air and fell on Mika's legs, Enor spoke.
'Failing to find you, we continued the ceremony without you. You, as you well know, are the last of your line. But your father could not go unsung into the spirit world, nor could his staff lie unclaimed.
'There must always be a shaman and magic-user; no clan would be safe or complete without one. And so, even though some few begged me to defy tradition and wait until you returned, others, many others, spoke out, saying that it was not possible. In the end I bowed to their voices and Whituk inherited the staff.'
Mika lifted his head, which had become heavy and unwieldy, and stared dully into Enor's eyes. He saw pity and compassion as well as intelligence in the large brown eyes, and he hoped he might yet explain himself and beg for a reversal of the decision.
But Enor had not become chief by birth alone, and quickly he spoke again, cutting off the younger man before he could begin his plea.
'There were other things that entered into our decision beside the fact of your absence,' he said. And one by one, Mika heard a listing of his misadventures over the years since the time of his youth. Taken individually, they had seemed no more than the pranks of an impish mind, but laid end to end, they made a formidable list that depressed even Mika.
'And finally,' continued Enor, 'it was felt that you had no real interest in the study of herbs and healing. Some were concerned with the fact that their lives might well rest in your hands one day. They were worried that you might make some terrible mistake, by accident or intent, rather than heal them. To be honest, I could not deny that it was a real risk.
'Eventually, you would have recognized that the time for jokes was over and tried
'As chief, I had to agree that the well-being of the clan would be best served by other hands. I am sorry, Mika. I would that it had been otherwise.'
'What… do I do now?' Mika asked quietly. 'Am I still part of the clan?'
'That is a difficult question to answer,' said Enor, looking into the fire.
'There are only two answers,' said Mika. 'Yes or no.'
'Yes, there will always be a place for you at the fire,' Enor answered heavily. 'But I do not think you would find much comfort there now…
'Every single member of the clan pays for his space at the fire with his services. Even the women and the children contribute. And it must be so. If it were otherwise-the whole supported by the actions of the few-the clan would perish. This has happened to many clans. There is no room around the fire for those who do not bear their share of the burden.
'Up until now, your presence was paid for by your father's diligence. But that is no longer true.
'We must ask what you would do if you remained. Are you a hunter? A warrior? Would you be a shaman's apprentice under Whituk? Mika, you are none of those things. You play at all and master none.'
Mika's face burned with shame and he looked down at his tightly clenched hands. TamTur lay by his side and whined.
'Then I am banished,' Mika said in a low tone.
'There is a way…' Enor said. 'But let us drink a cup of mulled mandrake and smoke a pipe of wolfs-bane to take the sharp edge off the words that have been spoken here.'
Mika did not object and sat motionless, his thoughts whirling in his head while Celia crept out of the corner and knelt at her father's side. Uncorking the narrow mouth of a bulge-bottomed gourd, she poured two shares of the thick gold brew into copper mugs and placed them on the stones that ringed the central fire.
While they were waiting for the wine to heat, Enor took down a long slender bone pipe from its hook on the carved rafter. It was a soft, pale shade of yellow, worn to a creamy patina by generations of reverent hands. The shaft was delicately incised with a frieze of running wolves, and the bowl itself was carved to depict a snarling wolfs head.
Enor filled the open mouth loosely with the powerful narcotic weed which was normally used only during political or religious ceremonies. He passed the pipe to Mika and lit a splinter from the fire.
Mika took the pipe without comment and, as Enor touched the flame to the tobacco, inhaled deeply. The hypnotic smoke filled his lungs, and almost immediately, he felt the tight bands of pain ease from his heart and mind.
Enor took the pipe as it was passed to him, but he did not inhale. Instead, he permitted the sweet smoke to dribble out of his mouth untasted. Mika did not even notice.
When Enor judged that Mika was ready, he handed him the mug with a brimming share.
Mika gulped the hot liquor in a single draught and held out his mug for more, unmindful of the hidden power of the potion.
Celia studied him carefully as she poured out the second portion and placed it beside the fire, her big blue eyes reflecting her concern. But Mika only stared at his cup, refusing to meet her eyes and see the pity that he knew would be there.
Enor held his counsel and allowed Mika freedom of drink, smoke, and his own thoughts, knowing that the powerful narcotic tobacco and hypnotic drink would soon ease the worst of the young man's pain and make him more malleable.
After six mugs, Mika was able to focus on the flames and consider their beauty, rather than comparing them to the color of Whituk's blood, if he had any. After eight cups, he felt at peace. Almost.
'What is this solution you have in mind?' he asked between numbed lips, slowly setting the still-full cup down on the ground in front of TamTur.
'It's the caravan,' said Enor, watching curiously as the wolf inched forward on his front paws and quietly lapped up the contents of the mug.
'The caravan?' Mika asked stupidly, wriggling his fingers to encourage the return of feeling.
'Yes, the caravan,' Enor repeated patiently. 'u remember the caravan you helped rescue.'
'Oh, THAT caravan,' said Mika, and his face grew dark. 'Damn kobolds.'
'We have serious problems with the caravan that only you can solve, Mika-oba.'
'Not 'oba' any more,' Mika said solemnly, wagging his finger under Enor's nose. 'Just Mika. Plain 'ol Mika. Only Mika-oba while father is still alive. Father's dead. Gone. Mika's all alone now.' Mika stared into the fire, pondering the sad turn of events.
'Yes, I know,' Enor said with a sigh, already regretting that he had allowed the young man the freedom of the gourd and the pipe. Two drinks of mandrake were more than enough for a normal man. Three would render even the strongest unconscious. The pipe had been pure overkill. Yet he had wanted to avert the violence that he knew lurked just under the surface of Mika's control and spare him the consequences of precipitous actions.
Mika had all the qualifications needed to become a truly great Wolf Nomad one day if he were able to channel his superior strength and intelligence instead of wasting his talents on wenching and pranks. As chief, it was Enor's duty to see that that happened. As a father whose daughter was infatuated with Mika, it was even more crucial.
'The caravan, Mika,' he repeated. 'Those kobolds didn't just happen to be there. There haven't been any kobolds in our territory in decades; we cleared them out long ago. No army of kobolds could have crossed our lands without our knowledge. They had to have been transported there magically. Such a deed would have required a very powerful magic-user. As only you and I know, that magic-user may well be-' Enor paused '-Iuz…
'The question is, why would someone be after the caravan, and is that someone Iuz?'
'Yes, why?' echoed Mika.
'I have asked the Guildsman, but he denies any knowledge.'
'Sneaky bastard,' muttered Mika. 'Don't like him.'
