known, and should, Earc would not howl his joy at defeating his foe for there was one less Chrechte in the world and their numbers were not high.
Earc’s visage was grim as he retrieved Rowland’s human weapons and presented them to Barr with solemn reverence.
Barr accepted the sword and dagger, though he had no desire to keep them. He looked around the clearing, his gaze taking in the varied reactions to Rowland’s death. Relief, disbelief, horror, joy, anger, hope—and all of it tinged by shock—choked the clearing.
Barr lifted the weapons, looking at each member of his pack individually. Some did not meet his gaze, but all belonged to his pack, to his protection—until they proved themselves unworthy. “I am laird here. Does anyone question my right to lead?”
Several shouted firm denials and others howled, but none put their vote forward in the affirmative. None challenged him.
“The Chrechte live among the human clans to protect our race. In return we protect those we live among. We do not abuse them because we are stronger or faster.”
This time the affirmation was louder and the howls more triumphant. This pack had suffered under Rowland’s leadership. Barr would give them a chance to prove they wanted the change he offered.
Waiting for the pack to fall silent, he carefully noted those who did not join in affirming the Chrechte law regarding their lives among the humans.
“From this point forward, every Chrechte male will train as a warrior.” Some had been holding back and he had not made it mandatory, trying to get an understanding for why a people whose violent natures had almost led to their own extinction would not be in training for the protection of their people.
“Will you teach us how to defeat a Chrechte in his wolf form while still a human?” one young man called out.
“Aye.”
Earc stood beside him. “We’ll be teaching the human men in our clan how to fight Chrechte as well, without revealing our nature.”
“Like you did with Muin and the human soldiers yesterday?” a woman asked.
“That’s right.”
“Rowland never allowed the elite soldiers to train with the humans. He said it would make us weak,” one of Circin’s friends said.
“Does Earc appear weak to you?”
“No!”
“His primary role among the Sinclairs was preparing humans to meet a Chrechte attack.”
Looks of surprised respect showed over several faces.
“One day Circin will lead you; until that day I will train every man in this clan the way of a true Chrechte warrior.”
Shouts of approval went up, the deafening sound growing until those not joining in were more conspicuous in their silence. Distance grew between them and the others, as their fellow clansmen pulled away from the disapproving visages.
Earc frowned as he looked around and clearly noted those withholding their support. “Too bad none of them would challenge you.”
“If they share Rowland’s attitudes, they probably share his propensity for sneakiness and ambush.”
“You do not think his death will end the attempts to undermine your role here?”
“Cut off the head of a snake and the body still writhes after, not knowing it is dead.”
Earc nodded his understanding. “Not all were pleased by my victory.”
“Nay.”
“We will have to remain ever vigilant.”
“When are we anything else?”
“I don’t know. When you are chasing the scent of a naked woman through the forest perhaps?”
Barr almost smiled at the reminder. “Did you see her on the rock ledge to the north?”
“I was pretending not to. She’s dressed like a man.”
“She’s an uncommon woman.”
“Aye, she is that.”
“The raven who crowed her triumph when you won, I believe that was your mate.”
Earc did not show his surprise, but his heart sped up. “Verica is a wolf.”
“With a mother who was a raven.”
“I thought the old bastard was just throwing insults, though I admit I didn’t understand how calling her mother a raven was one.”
“The Éan are not myth.”
“Damn.”
“’Tis no easy thing to accept.”
“Are you sure that was Verica?”
“As sure as I can be without her admitting it.”
“It sounds like my new mate and I have much to talk about.”
“Before or after you bed her?”
“Does it matter?”
“Nay.”
Barr did not allow the character of the dead Chrechte to stop him doing his duty. A funeral pyre was built, Rowland’s wolf was laid on top and they all held vigil while the fire burned hot enough to singe anyone foolish enough to get too close.
All the Chrechte held vigil, though few showed any true grief at their former pack leader’s passing.
Verica arrived, her expression cheerless despite the fact she had good reason to want