Felch brandished the spear. "No more worries, eh? We'll rule the clan together now, just you'n'me. Chieftains together!"
Antigra pounded the fox's back. "Give me that spear. I want to stab him too!"
Giggling like a naughty Dibbun, Felch passed the spear over. He was still giggling as Antigra whirled and ran him through. A look of pained surprise crossed the fox's face as he stood swaying, grasping the spear shaft with both paws. Antigra stared back at him, her eyes hard and bright as flint.
"My son will rule the clan. There's no room anymore for you, Felch. You've seen and heard too much!"
Fresh wood had been heaped on the campfires. Grissoul sat beside the one outside Sawney's tent, gazing into the night. She felt the spearpoint touch her back, and heard the whisper issuing from the darkness behind her.
"Sawney Rath is dead!"
Without attempting to turn, Grissoul answered, "The omens have already told me this, Antigra."
The stoat's breath felt hot on the back of the vixen's neck. "And did your omens tell you who slew him? Think carefully if you wish to continue living."
Grissoul reached behind her and pushed the spear gently aside. "My omens told me that thou would know the answer to that question. They said no more; it is not for me to guess at the answer."
Antigra kept to the shadows where she could not be seen. "You are a wise beast, old one. I've had a vision that my son Gruven is Taggerung now. Do you agree? Answer me!"
Grissoul shook her head. "It cannot be. Nay, Antigra, put down thy spear and listen. I have had no vision of the Taggerung's death. Juska law says that only he who slays a Taggerung can be called Taggerung in his place. Thy son cannot be Taggerung while the chosen one lives. But a new Chieftain can always take the place of a Chieftain who is slain. I will help thee to have thy son named Gruven Zann Juskazann, leader of this clan. Does my new vision sound fitting to thy desires?"
Antigra liked the idea immediately. "Your vision is good. Tell me what to do, Grissoul!"
The Seer closed her eyes. "Wait awhile before entering camp. Then tell thy story to all. I'll agree with it; the Juska will not doubt my word. I will send thy son off with strong warriors to hunt down and slay the Taggerung, and together you and I will rule the clan until the day of his return."
Antigra nodded. "It is a bargain." She slid back into the darkness.
A short time later, Antigra roused the clan vermin. She staggered into camp, shrieking, "Sawney Rath is dead, murdered by the Taggerung!"
The crowd followed her up to the fire outside Sawney's tent, where Grissoul was still sitting. The Seer got immediate silence by throwing a pawful of something into the flames, which caused them to send up a blue flame.
"I saw the death of Sawney Rath in my omens when he left camp today. Some of you saw me cast the stones and bones."
The stoat Rawback spoke up. "Aye, I saw her. She clasped her head in her paws!"
Gruven sneaked up to his mother's side and whispered, "What's happened? Did you see Sawney get killed?"
Antigra pinched his side between her claws sharply. "Do as I say," she muttered. "Stay out of this and keep your mouth shut until I tell you. Big things are at stake here tonight."
Other vermin were backing Rawback up.
"Grissoul looked as though the omens were bad."
"I saw 'er too. She looked like a creature who'd seen death!"
The Seer leapt up, her painted face taking on a blue tinge from the flames, and swirled her cloak back and forth dramatically. "Let Antigra speak! Tell thy clanbeasts what took place, Antigra!"
All eyes turned on the stoat.
"I was up a tree after birds' eggs and I heard noises. First came Felch, then Sawney, following him. He shouted the fox's name, Felch turned and Sawney slew him with a spear cast. I did not know that the traitor Taggerung was hiding nearby. He saw Sawney unarmed and threw the very blade that was once Sawney's. It did not fly true, but the stone at its handletop struck Sawney 'twixt the eyes and laid him out, unconscious I think. The Taggerung could not see me, so I started climbing down from the tree to defend our Chieftain. But alas, before I reached the ground, the otter had pulled the spear from the body of Felch and murdered Sawney with it. He ran off, north toward the mountains. I could do nought but hurry back here to bring you the bad tidings. It was a treacherous and horrible sight, I'll never forget it!" Antigra slumped on the ground, covering her eyes. "Vengeance upon the traitorous Taggerung," she wailed. "The spirit of Sawney Rath cries for vengeance from the gates of Dark Forest!"
Grissoul's sudden scream rent the night. She began a shuffling dance, holding both paws forth. Vermin shrank from her touch. They feared what they could not understand; it was a night of omens. The Seer's paws finally touched Gruven's face. He looked to his mother, and she nodded at him to stay still. Grissoul cast herself down in front of him, her voice rising to an eerie pitch.
"Is this the one to do thy will, O Sawney Rath?" A great sigh escaped her, and she touched her head to Gruven's footpaws.
"Gruven Zann! Juskazann!
Take our name, rule our clan,
Heed the voice of the Chieftain now dead,
Bring back to this Seer the traitor's head!"
A roar of approval came from the tribe, caught up in the hypnotic ritual. Grissoul led Gruven to the fire, where even his slightly puzzled features looked impressive in the changing hue of the flames. The Seer cast pawfuls of different powders into the blaze. Antigra, who had darted into Sawney's tent a moment before, came dashing out to drape the dead ferret's best cloak about her son's shoulders. She pressed his sword into his paw, hissing in his ear, "Try to look less like a befuddled frog and more like a clan chief, can't you? Say something to them, stir them up. Speak!" She mingled in with the crowd and yelled hoarsely, "Gruven Zann Juskazann!"
Others took up the cry until it became a deafening chant. "Gruven Zann Juskazann! Gruven Zann Juskazann!"
Gruven held up his sword and they fell silent as if by magic. He repeated every word that Grissoul, who was standing behind him, whispered in his ear.
"Warriors of the Juskazann, fear not. The coward Taggerung cannot run far or fast enough from my wrath. I vow upon this sword that the otter will pay for his treachery. Aye, I will choose from our best to accompany me, and I'll bring back his head. We leave at dawn. I will make the name of our clan feared throughout the land. Tell me, you brave ones, what are you called?"
The clanbeasts roared, waving their weapons high. "Juskazann! Juskazann! Gruven Zann Juskazann!"
Grissoul knew then that her plan was working. The clanbeasts were in a frenzy. The Seer sprang up in front of Gruven and flung more powders into the fire. Blue, red, green, silver and purple smoke wreathed her as she cast her bones and shells on the ground. Everybeast was awed by the sight of her, an eerie multihued apparition, howling like a demon.
"Sawney Rath calls to me from beyond the Hellgates! The otter is a traitor Taggerung, a Chieftain murderer and a cowardly runaway! He is not fit to be Taggerung! Shame will fall on our clan if he lives! Gruven Zann Juskazann must slay him and take his title. My omens say that the one who slays a traitor Taggerung can then be called Taggerung by right! Go now, Gruven Zann Juskazann, bring honor to your new-named clan, avenge our fallen Chieftain, bring death to the fleeing coward and take on the name of Gruven Zann Taggerung!"
Even through the flames and smoke, Grissoul could see the fanatical burning light of satisfaction in Antigra's eyes.
Far north in Mossflower Wood, Tagg surfaced from a broad stream. Shaking himself dry he sat on the bank, t tying to define his present mood. He was banished from t he company of the only beasts he could remember living with, a loner, an outcast from the clan. Yet he felt light-hearted, free and happy. Sometimes he had admired Sawney, his strength, leadership and determination, but he had never really liked the ferret, never called him lather, never loved him. Tagg was not bothered that Sawney was hunting him. He had grown old, slower, and more prone to making mistakes because of his quicktempered mood changes. The otter felt a shudder of joy pass through his entire body from ear to rudder. He was glad to be rid of the whole Juskarath. Life was his, to do with as he pleased. Exactly where he was going and what he intended to do had not occurred to him. Then he remembered the mountain.