"Jedit!" A voice piped from the doorway of the common hut. "Jedit! What have you wrought?"
"Mother," said the towering warrior.
The tigers looked much alike, though some were more tawny than orange. Older ones were gray about the head and muzzle. Males wore loincloths of goat hide or pigskin painted with bright angular designs. Females wore halters that covered their flattish breasts and loins, though no one knew why. Some were decorated with armbands of parrot feathers and beads of painted bone. Everyone carried a bronze dagger, a tool used for eating, rarely for fighting.
Jedit's mother, Musata, was tribal shaman. She lived in the common hut and wore a collar hung with many strands of bone beads that clattered and clacked. A girdle of bronze disks set with rubies circled her waist over her halter. Her eyes were sharp pools of amber and green. Like her son's, they missed little.
Now the shaman peered at Johan, coming so close her white whiskers brushed his face. Sniffing, she circled and studied him, as if buying a monox.
"So it's true. Men live. He came from the west? How?"
Briefly Jedit told of the failing drake and the double rescue from the sand wurms, with Johan and Jedit toiling together.
Musata nodded. "Does he know any news of your father, my husband?"
"I can speak, madam." Johan was civil but neutral. Again he toyed with the milky crystal. "Your son spoke of Jaeger Ojanen, whom I know not."
"No? Methinks I smell traces of Jaeger upon you." The shaman's amber-green eyes drilled into the prisoner. "Jaeger and more, for you stink of carrion and corruption and cruelty, or else I'm no seer."
Coolly the stranger rubbed his forehead with the ensorcelled stone, which the tigers couldn't know was an aid to projecting harmlessness.
He told the shaman, "Perhaps your son's scent and the wurms' lingers about me, madam. We two grappled repeatedly in escaping the desert raptors."
"Perhaps."
Musata sniffed, but Jedit knew his mother was still suspicious, same as was he.
"Our only real question is-What shall our tribe do with a man-stranger in our midst?"
"No question at all," rumbled Ruko. "He dies at moonset."
"He does not!" rapped Jedit.
All eyes fell on the two tigers. The tribe murmured, and many shook their heads, fully expecting trouble.
"Who are you, whelp, to oppose tradition?" demanded the scout chief.
"How can you invoke tradition against a being not thought to exist?" countered Jedit.
Tigerfolk perked their ears. A hundred or more had gathered by now. From the corner of his eye, Jedit watched the stranger he was defending. Not surprisingly, the man asked a queer and oblique question.
"May I fetch a drink from the river?"
Ruko blinked at the request, then nodded to the scouts, warning them to be wary lest the man escape. Johan padded on bare feet to the river, knelt, cupped water, and drank. Jedit watched him closely, bubbling with curiosity about this odd stranger. Yet the man seemed simply satisfied with the cool draft and sat back on his heels gazing at the water in both directions.
"Men are evil!" resumed Ruko. "Treacherous, back stabbing, skulking. You know the legends. Your own mother recites them. Have you never attended?"
The last was a sneer, for Ruko and Jedit had disagreed on everything since cubhood.
"Your ancient legends lose ground to present facts," retorted Jedit. "Your source of wisdom is a cracked gourd that won't hold water any more than your head. Behold! A living, breathing man comes among us, and you can only crush him like an adder?"
"Ach!" Ruko spat on the dirt. "I'm smart enough to heed the legends, which warn us to beware men. T'was men drove us from our homeland! We mustn't-"
"We mustn't cast away a chance to learn of the outside world!" roared Jedit. His black claws flexed as Ruko shifted his stabbing spear from hand to hand. Instinctively tigers gave them room. "My father journeyed west to see if men existed! For if so, he argued, some must possess good hearts-"
"Jaeger is lost to wurms!" interrupted Ruko. "He pursued a fool's errand, and like a fool-"
"Watch out!" bellowed an onlooker.
With a roar, claws hooked to slash and kill, Jedit attacked.
Chapter 2
Jedit's screaming attack caught Ruko flat-footed.
The scout's spear was knocked aside as Jedit shot a punch like a catapult stone at Ruko's throat. The scout twisted to dodge, caught the blow on his shoulder, and was bowled into two spectators. They caught and propped Ruko but otherwise stayed out of the fight. Explosive rough-and-tumble brawls were no surprise among the tigerfolk, with so many high-strung young warriors eager to prove their prowess.
A running scout called only, "Recall the rules! No claws!" No one heard over the caterwauls and coughing screams of the combatants.
Despite the swift assault, Ruko lost no time replying. Stamping one foot to regain his balance, he stepped inside Jedit's defenses while the cat man's arms were still extended and slammed an elbow to Jedit's belly, then to his jaw. Jedit's fangs clacked shut. Whirling and dipping, Ruko scooted under Jedit's arm to attack his blind side.
Just as fast, Jedit hooked an arm like an oak club. A knotty fist mashed Ruko's ear and drew blood. Raging, for a tiger's temper was never far submerged, Ruko spun the wrong way to attack more quickly. For a second his back was presented to Jedit.
Toppling sideways, Jedit slapped a clawed hand to the hard-packed dirt and threw both legs in the air. Black-taloned feet rammed Ruko's spine almost hard enough to snap it. Onlookers grunted as Ruko cannoned into a gray-scaled tree. In seconds, Jedit flipped back on his feet, squatted, and jumped-but in haste. Ruko was savvy enough to duck alongside the tree trunk. Sailing through the air, Jedit couldn't stop. Flinging out both hands, he spanked off the tree. Crouched, waiting, Ruko balled both fists and slammed Jedit's brisket like twin sledgehammers. The cat man crashed full length in the dust, momentarily winded.
"You'd assault… me for… speaking plain truth?" Ruko raged as he punished Jedit's gut with fists like a berserk windmill. "Your father deserted our tribe to enter a wasteland! He's dead! So will you be if you don't abandon foolish notions!"
Berating his enemy while fighting distracted Ruko, and he paid for his neglect. Tough as a monox, Jedit was pained but took little damage. Now, as Ruko swung both fists, Jedit snagged his wrists and pulled. Adding his strength to Ruko's, he drove the chief scout face first onto the dirt with a bone-jarring crunch. Yet Ruko broke free by rolling in a somersault that let him spin to a crouch — Right into Jedit's next attack.
The tiger flashed two balled fists in a sweeping circle. Ruko deflected the first blow by shooting an arm high and shunting it aside, but the next blow hammered his shoulder and numbed his arm. Rather than retreat, Ruko lunged with his good arm and slammed his forearm across Jedit's throat. As Jedit recoiled, Ruko whirled and jigged behind his foe. Grasping his own wrist, Ruko yanked backward to half-throttle Jedit and hoist him to tiptoes, off-balance. Muffled snarls, coughs, and curses turned the air blue but were barely heard for the shouting of the tiger tribe.
Ruko's quick-laid scheme failed. Taller and heavier, Jedit stayed planted, tucked his chin to trap Ruko's arm, and dropped to a squat, dragging his full weight on Ruko's arm. As the chief scout was tugged forward, himself now off-balance, Jedit hooked a massive shoulder under Ruko's gut. Before the scout could jerk free, he spilled head over heels and crashed full-length, this time in the river. The tremendous splash spewed water in all directions.
Ruko flung out his arms and legs to gain ground and rise, but water and a soft sandy bottom confounded him. Water filled his sensitive nose and mouth, so he snorted and sputtered. Jedit gave him no relief. Hurling himself from the river-bank, the bigger warrior landed elbows and knees on Ruko and smashed him flat underwater and halfway into the sandy bottom.