“My youngest,” Sarinak put in with a weary air, “has been foolish and surly about his brother’s doings. Unreasonable, if understandable.”
Madoc flushed harder. Anger, then, not embarrassment.
“As to my other son, it would be equally as foolish to deny Tokela can be more trouble than not. But this?” Sarinak shrugged.
Inhya continued. “What your oških has confessed to you, Galenu stone-chieftain, seems unlikely.”
Galenu often found much of Mordeleg’s claims unlikely, but he wasn’t about to admit that. Not here, not yet.
“Until lastSun, Tokela showed little sign of”—Inhya considered her talk—“interest.”
“In Mordeleg?”
“In anyone,” Sarinak muttered.
Inhya slid him a slight frown. Sarinak gave an almost-imperceptible shrug as she continued. “You sent Mordeleg here because he proved intractable in midLands. He’s continued to be so. Restrictions anger him; not that I care, he’ll follow them. But Mound-chieftain and his fellow oških are the only ones keeping him contained. They outfight him, of course.”
Of course. Despite the smugness, Galenu had to agree. “I’d hoped a change of place would help. And time.”
“He’s been here nearly three Moons,” Inhya reminded.
“The other oških detest him.” Madoc was scowling. “He’s weak and they know it.”
“Madoc,” Sarinak growled, “if you cannot keep your tongue still, I’ll send you out.”
Madoc slumped, aggrieved, but shut his mouth.
“What happened in Dance merely exhibited your oških’s malicious nature.” Inhya put hands on hips.
“Hunh. With some males, rutting can be as much struggle as satisfaction.” Sarinak gave another shrug, this time with a twitch of a grin. “I’m sure Galenu remembers what I mean.”
“Neither memory nor motion has thoroughly failed me yet,” Galenu answered, wry, and offered his own slight jab. “I, too, saw Spear Dance. Tokela made his choice—unsuitable, perhaps, but it wasn’t Mordeleg.”
Sarinak’s face went stony. Madoc’s hadn’t that self-possession—his glower could surely melt the well-swept floor. Jealousy stuck out over him like quills. Galenu had to hide a smile. This one was his dam’s son, all right.
“Where is Mordeleg now?” Inhya asked.
“In my den.” Galenu’s turn, now, to shrug at their scepticism. “I doubt he’ll stray. I told him if he wished a hearing, he needed to wait Mound-chieftain’s convenience.”
“I will listen,” Sarinak agreed. “To him and Tokela both”
“I can find Tokela!” Madoc piped up, and Inhya, after throwing a silent question at her spouse, consented.
“After the meal,” she added, making a grab for Madoc as he leapt into motion.
“Later thisSun should be convenient for arbitration,” Sarinak added. “I will gather four elders, and you, Galenu, are allowed a midLands witness. Bring that witness and Mordeleg to the Council dens after midSun meal.”
Galenu tilted his head to his hosts, replaced his cup next to the others by the hearth, then departed.
“YOU’RE SMILING.” Tokela’s fingers smoothed, back and forth, across a wide, satiny scar tracing from Našobok’s ribcage to his belly. He seemed fascinated.
“I’m thinking of pleasant things,” Našobok told him, riffling fingers through the dusky, fur-soft forelock that would not stay out of Tokela’s eyes. “And looking at you.”
Such a simple—and true—compliment had altogether too much power. Yet sheathed in Tokela’s innocence was an intriguing edge, a keen blade of wit and want beginning to sharpen itself.
Našobok might end up with a few more scars from it before this was all over. He smiled again. Ai, bring it.
They both had their toes in River, swishing companionably back and forth. There was a lambency within Tokela, one the darkling trust of newfound intimacy had explored and started to free. As if he would sprout wings and take to them, if only he hadn’t been told his entire life that flying was impossible.
Našobok welcomed impossibility. He closed his eyes, sighed, and thought upon every heartbeat leading to this one pulse-point, thisNow.
When he opened his eyes again, Tokela still watched him. Almost too closely. Restless, in the wake of Našobok’s silence.
I thought you liked quiet. When did you become so anxious? The question hurt Našobok’s heart. Too many questions about too many things…
Enough. Better to make more talk in a way they both comprehended. He grabbed a handful of chestnut hair to pull Tokela close—
“There you are!!”
One of Našobok’s canines grazed Tokela’s lip; both of them winced before rolling apart.
Kuli stood not two lengths from them, fists planted on his hips and cinnabar head cocked. “Everyone’s looking for you, Tokela. You’re in trouble again. And Uncle! What are you doing lying with Tokela?”
Tokela gave a slight growl, lurched upwards, belatedly seemed disconcerted by the fact he was very erect. Ai, then, so was Našobok.
So it was decided: after bedding Palatan one final time, Našobok would have to kill him so he couldn’t breed any more like this stealthy, precocious little being.
Who refused to shut his yap. “I know you were dancing with him, and I know that usually leads to a lot of rubbing up against each other—”
Anger and thwarted lust had joined battle across Tokela’s expression, quickly losing ground to a third combatant: sheer astonishment.
“Blood myself, I swear I will,” Našobok murmured. “If only that reedy voice breaks soon.”
Tokela made a sound somewhere between a chuckle and a snort. It was true: Kuli could doubtless be heard leagues downRiver.
Nor was he showing any signs of stopping. “See, it’s one thing for you to dance with Uncle, but you shouldn’t be rutting him—”
Shouldn’t? Tokela mouthed, eyes wide.
“—because he belongs to Yeka and Aška!”
Tokela turned those wide eyes to Našobok.
The only answer Našobok could make was laughter. Under its pressure, a smirk touched Tokela’s mouth.
“A complicated story for another time.” Grabbing for his clout, Našobok gained his feet. With a wince, he angled the sodden leather about his hips. That put the finish to it, even more than a mouthy little ahlóssa.
Našobok sighed. “So you’ve found us, Little Fox. What trouble, and who’s looking?”
“Galenu stone-chieftain, for one,” Kuli said. “Making all sorts of talk about someone dumping one of his Clan just inside his guesting-den, trussed and gagged like bait to trap lionKin.”
Našobok grinned. Tokela’s puzzlement was beginning to slide into gratification.
“Then I went to find Madoc only to hear Uncle Sarinak letting loose—he
