The Dog Master: A Novel of the First Dog

by W. Bruce Cameron

  She did not understand where the man was and she did not understand why her mother would not let her feed. She only understood that she was hungry.

  Year Four

  The hunt felled a winter mammoth, whose ample flesh pulled the Kindred back from edge of starvation. Lean reindeer meat could be smoked and dried and would keep for many days, but mammoth, with all its fat, needed to be consumed not long after cooking, though snow retarded spoilage. This meant the families had ample food, but Palloc was nonetheless surprised—and perhaps even suspicious—when his mother invited him to her fire for a meal.

  “Did you ever wonder about Dog? His coloring? And your new child, the deformed one, the same is true,” Albi bluntly asked her son as he took his first bite.

  “I do not know what you are even suggesting to me,” Palloc replied slowly, chewing.

  “Why, when your skin is so pale, your eyes such a light brown, are both boys so dark?”

  “They look like everyone else in the Kindred,” Palloc answered, baffled.

  Albi shook her head. “Do not be so stupid. Should a boy not resemble his father? Does Bellu’s child not look like Urs? Do Bellu’s brothers not resemble Pex?”

  Palloc frowned. In his mind, Bellu’s baby looked like a baby. He tried to mentally compare Bellu’s brothers with Pex, their father, but Pex had a deep white scar across his forehead and had lost a lot of his teeth, and that was all Palloc could think of.

  Albi made a contemptuous noise. “What about their eyes?”

  “Their eyes,” Palloc repeated, not understanding.

  “Calli’s children all have dark eyes. Neither of them have light eyes, like yours.”

  Palloc considered this. “Calli ate no fish while with child,” he reasoned. “That is why Dog and the baby have normal eyes.”

  “Do you think I ate fish when I was pregnant?” Albi demanded.

  He was startled. “Are you saying my father had eyes like yours, like mine?”

  “A boy looks like the father. A girl looks like the mother. That is why you men all think Ador’s child, Bellu, is so pretty,” Albi informed him.

  Palloc tried to remember his father, who had died after being trampled on the hunt a long time ago. Truthfully, his memories were fleeting and without definition; glimpses of a heavyset, broad-chested man. Palloc simply could not remember the eyes. He focused on his mother. “Is this true? I have never heard such a thing. Children usually look like themselves.”

  “Ask any woman who a child resembles and she will tell you,” Albi replied confidently.

  “And my father…”

  “You resemble him exactly. As I look at you, I see a younger version of him.”

  Palloc inhaled. His mother’s words hit him hard, like a club to the stomach. Dog, not his son? The new baby?

  Urs. He felt the rage heating his face. Palloc always suspected Calli had been with another man before their wedding night. And, in his heart, Palloc had always known who the other man was. The idea that the relationship had continued into adultery made him sick with a vile mix of emotions.

  Albi was watching her son with a satisfied expression, which she quickly changed to concern when he raised his hot, wet eyes to hers. “Palloc, my son, I am so, so sorry to be the one to tell you this,” she murmured.

  Palloc stood. “I am going to kill her,” he vowed.

  Albi nodded at her son’s fury. “Yes, exactly,” she agreed. “That is exactly what you must do.”

  * * *

  Denix was actually trembling as she went to stand next to Silex, a look of nervous dread on her face. She was still so much a child Silex wanted to hug her and assure her that all was good, but that would not befit what he was about to say to what was left of his tribe.

  Silex spoke more loudly than necessary, feeling they needed to hear decisiveness and power in his voice. “I have wondered why the magnificent she-wolf who accepts our tribute is so forthright and bold, dauntless as she approaches the Wolfen. And now I understand, because there is a message in her circumstances. She, like Brach and I, split from the main tribe. And she, not the male, is the leader of a pack, one that grows with a successful litter.” Silex put a hand on Denix’s thin shoulder. “My father stated that we are People of the Wolf and must always live as they do, but in our hunting we are more like the Kindred, leaving our women behind while the men track game. The message of the she-wolf is that this is wrong. We must consider our resources.” Silex moved Denix forward with a subtle push, pausing so everyone could remember how she had gone alone to see what had happened to Duro and the men. What he was trying to tell them was so unorthodox, he could see noncomprehension on almost every face, but he nodded as if everyone had shouted assent. “Yes. Denix. She has proven herself brave as any man, going out to risk her life to see if she could save anyone.” Though this was not exactly what had happened, the concept stirred his people, and they were now regarding Denix with precisely the sort of appraising respect he had hoped for. “We cannot ignore such bravery. Denix will go with the hunt.”

  Silex smiled at Denix, who appeared thunderstruck. The men were glancing at each other and frowning, but Silex ignored them, deliberately fixing his wife with his eyes. “Fia is clever and fast, and she, too, will accompany us, as will any woman who can master spear and club. The children can find the berries and gather the acorns, but, like the wolves, Wolfen—male and female—will hunt together.”

  Year Nineteen

  Her mother’s thumping tail awoke the puppy from a fitful sleep—the hollow pain in her little belly prevented anything other than light dozing. The instant her eyes opened she smelled the man and was there to greet him when he landed on the cave floor. She jumped and spun and yipped, overjoyed that he had returned.

  “Yes, all is good, little girl. I have something for you, and your mother as well.”

  The puppy’s mouth filled with saliva when the man offered her a small morsel of fresh meat. She chewed it rapidly, swallowing and looking up expectantly.

  “I am sorry I allowed you to become so hungry. I was afraid of the lion, though I saw no sign of it.”

  With the sounds came more food.

  “That is enough for you. I want to see how well you fare on a solid meal before I give you any more.”

  The puppy raised herself up on her rear legs, sniffing eagerly, but backed away when the man knelt at the mother-wolf’s head.

  “I know you are no longer allowing your puppy to your breast, but will you still eat?” he said softly. He reached out and the mother-wolf accepted a larger hunk from his hand, the puppy watching enviously.

  Later, the man put some meat into the fire, an odor both familiar and delicious to the puppy, who could not remember a time when the smells were not present. Then he ate, pushing her away when she thrust her nose at his meal. He did, though, give her another bit of food. And then he sat quietly, so the puppy put her head in his lap as she often did, closing her eyes when his hand stroked her head.

  “I am challenged to explain even to myself what I am doing, living in a wolf’s lair, sharing my food with two animals. Yet it is as if we are family. When I return to the cave, you both shake your tails with high energy. I know it means you are glad to see me, that you missed me. It is as if I have left one family for another—a wolf family. But what would happen if I allow you to live?”

  The man’s sounds were as soothing as his hand, and the puppy only drowsily knew he was making them.

  “You are little now and I do feel for you as if you are a little sister, a baby. But you will not always be a baby and a grown wolf is a fierce killer. Would you do that to me, little girl? Would you one day see me as prey? If we somehow manage to survive the rest of the summer, evade the lion, and find a way to live through the winter, would it only be to have you turn on me and tear out my throat?”

  Year Four

  Calli, holding her newborn son, was sitting with Bellu when Palloc strode up to her. Dog was off somewhere—his laughter could be heard ove
r the calls of the other children, playing among some sparse trees.

  “Come with me,” Palloc commanded curtly. When Calli was slow to rise he reached down and yanked her roughly to her feet.

  “What are you doing?” Calli demanded angrily. “You will wake the baby and I just got him to sleep.”

  Palloc’s response was to reach for the child and pull him from his mother. Calli was too shocked to resist. Palloc turned and walked away from her.

  “Palloc?” With a wild glance at Bellu, Calli ran after her husband.

  Palloc carried the newborn straight to the communal fire, which was crackling merrily as Coco prepared to cook some reindeer meat. Calli’s eyes grew—why was he going to the fire?

  Palloc stepped around the flames and thrust the baby at Coco. “Here,” he said curtly. “I need you to watch your grandchild for a moment.”

  Something in Palloc’s face made Coco accept the newborn without protest. Calli caught up to them. “What is going on?” she asked shrilly.

  Palloc grabbed her hand. “I need you to come with me.”

  Several women watched silently as Palloc all but dragged his wife away from the communal area. When Calli stubbornly slowed down, he yanked hard on her arm and it hurt so much she yelped. “Palloc,” she gasped, suddenly terrified. “Please. What are you doing?”

  Palloc’s eyes were fierce, his jaw grim. He did not answer. He kept walking, pulling her with him.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  “It is the right thing, what you are doing, Silex,” Fia murmured to her husband as they lay together the night after Silex announced women would be joining the hunt. “You are a better leader than even your father.”

  That seemed improbable. “We would not be in this situation if I had stayed,” Silex reminded her, despair in his voice.

  “Had you stayed, you would have been compelled to go with Duro, and I would not have a husband. Having women help with the hunt is brilliant.”

  “We need more sons, Fia. Males. Without more males the Wolfen will die out. We could die this very winter.”

  Fia leaned slightly away from him, and the cool air was as unfriendly as the expression on her face. “And so you need me to produce a son,” she stated flatly.

  Silex wanted to pull his words back. “I was just trying to say we are in a desperate position!” He dreaded the anger in her eyes.

  “There is more you are wanting to say,” Fia said tightly. “I can tell.”

  Though it was not how he wanted to broach the subject, he plunged ahead with what he had been thinking. “In the wolf pack, in times of privation, sometimes there will be more than one female allowed to have a litter.”

  “Because the dominant male takes more than one mate,” Fia finished for him.

  “Yes. Exactly.”

  “And this is your proposal for us. That the men take more than one woman to their beds.”

  Silex was pleased at how quickly she guessed the solution. “I believe it is the only way our tribe can survive.”

  “So this is about you and Ovi, then,” Fia said bitterly.

  “What? No, it is not about me at all. I am married. So is Brach. But the three young bachelors…” Silex spread his hands.

  Fia was staring at him intently. “You are saying that at a time when you might very well argue that you, as our leader, should be lying with all the women of the Wolfen, your position is that our marriage overrules all other consideration? You said that times were desperate.”

  “I did say that. That is why I need you to speak to the women. Convince them. I do not imagine they will be happy with this, but it is the only way.”

  Fia shook her head impatiently. “Silex. Do not get on the trail of a different animal. Stay with what is important. Despite circumstances, you wish to honor our marriage, to honor me, above all else.”

  Silex nodded. “Of course, Fia. What did you think?”

  “I think,” she murmured, her breath hot on his face and she leaned toward him, “that I love you, Silex.”

  He felt his anxiety relax as she kissed him, stirring his blood. Fia rolled onto her back, holding her arms out to him. “I want you, Silex. Mate with me, Husband.”

  * * *

  Palloc had half dragged Calli all the way to their lean-to, and now he grabbed her with both hands.

  Calli was frightened for her life. “Palloc, what are you doing?” she cried.

  As an answer he ripped at her garments, violently pulling them off her and tossing them to the ground. She staggered, trying to remain upright. The air felt cold on her nakedness. His face was a stew of dark emotions, his pale eyes intense but unreadable.

  Grunting, he all but threw her to the ground, dropping his own skirt. So this was what he wanted. Half relieved, she submissively went to her hands and knees, gasping in shock at the brutal way he came at her. “Please,” she said in a tiny voice, a sob lodged in her throat.

  Palloc was heedless and urgent. And, thankfully, it was over in just seconds, Palloc making a wild choking noise before collapsing against her.

  Calli’s tears rolled silently down her cheeks. She remained with her head on her arms even when he sprang up, leaving her there.

  When she rolled over to look at him, he was gone.

  * * *

  Calli left Dog and the baby with Coco one afternoon late into winter, when everyone was getting restless to migrate back north. She found Albi alone by her family fire, and waited respectfully for the older woman to notice her. Albi was patiently probing at a mammoth joint with a stick, working to get at the sinew so she could chew it off the bone.

  “I see that my son spends his nights sleeping on the men’s side,” Albi stated, not looking up from her task.

  “Yes, that is true,” Calli replied evenly. This was not what she had come to discuss.

  “You two have a little marital spat?” Albi asked nastily.

  “Something like that.”

  “Well do not look to me to try to fix it for you. When a man is pouting, you just have to let him pout. They come back, eventually.” Albi did glance at her now, her expression sly. “We have something they need.”

  “I am not here to ask you to fix my relationship with Palloc,” Calli responded woodenly.

  “Ah. This is about the cripple, then.”

  “My baby, yes. Your grandchild.”

  Albi smirked at her.

  “Our arrangement,” Calli continued quietly, “is that in a few years, you will nominate me for council mother. We both agree that with your endorsement, my election is assured. But why, when you are still so healthy, should we even think of such a transition now? My proposal is simply this: I will not be council mother. You need not endorse me. You will not resign. All will continue as it is.”

  “And then the cursed child…”

  Calli carefully did not react to the provocation. “And then my child will be named in his third summer, and he will do what he can to help the Kindred. He will learn a skill—perhaps he could help tool master Hardy—and life will go on.”

  “Life will go on,” Albi repeated. She was grinning manically, her expression so odd that Calli frowned. “You tell me you would give up being council mother, but do you not realize that the position is no longer yours to give? You insisted on keeping the baby, and I let it be, because I knew that everyone would see that it was cursed, would know you had put your selfish desire to keep a crippled child ahead of the good of the Kindred. If you had not protested, the curse would be ended and the women would have already voted you council mother. Do not for a moment think I was not aware of your treachery! But you picked it, a child with a hideous deformity, ending all chance that you could replace me.”

  “He is not hideous!” Calli snapped, her anger flaring.

  “You think that over the next three years, you will somehow convince people to love your baby. But that will never happen. He came out of the womb with an abhorrent leg. They fear it and they are disgusted by it. As long as he lives, he is a reminder
of something horrible. Can you imagine what an awful life he will lead, now, with everyone hating him so?”

  Calli bit her lip.

  “And as long as he lives,” Albi continued with a smile, “I will remain the council mother of the Kindred. Every time I demand his death, you will fight me, and when you win, girl of mists and shadows, I will have more years in control. The baby is a curse for the Kindred, but he is a gift to me.”

  * * *

  Calli left the council mother without a word and went straight to Renne, who watched Calli’s determined approach with widened eyes. “Renne, how is it that Albi knew to thwart our plans to vote against her by calling for an early migration?” Calli asked bluntly.

  The answer was on Renne’s stricken face. “Calli…,” Renne started to say.

  Calli held up a hand. “I just have one question. Do you still report everything I say to the council mother?”

  “No,” Renne cried, anguished. “I am not sure why … Oh, Calli, all my life I have just wanted a family. I do not even remember my parents; they died when I was so young. And no one on the council cared that I wanted a husband!”

  “And now you are betrothed to Nix. You did Albi a great service, and she returned the favor,” Calli noted.

  Renne hung her head.

  “I do not blame you. I am not angry,” Calli said softly. “You are right. We were so concerned with everything else, no one was paying attention to your needs. But I can count on your help, now? In three years’ time, after my son’s naming, Albi will pounce, I am sure of it. And I will be ready for her. But I want to be able to depend on you.”

  “Yes, Calli,” Renne replied, her eyes bright. “Yes you can.”

  Calli embraced her friend, and then turned to go.

  “Calli…”

  She turned back with a questioning look.

  “There’s something else,” Renne said. “A secret I am not supposed to reveal, but I believe it will help.”

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Year Seven

  Denix had changed in the three years since her first hunt. She was still lithe, with taut leg muscles, but her hips were subtly larger than a child’s, her breasts recognizably a woman’s.