Shifting Loyalties

by Melissa McShane

  At that moment, the tent flap opened, and a woman dressed in the ubiquitous tunic emerged. In addition to the tunic, she wore a sash that in the firelight was greenish, but Sienne thought it might actually be blue, a deep royal blue probably. The woman examined each of them in turn, then said, “Clever will speak with you now. Wit, you will remain outside.”

  Clever. No honorific, no title, just the odd name. Alaric approached the tent flap, but stopped when the woman held up a hand. “The women first,” she said. “It is our custom.”

  Sienne couldn’t see Alaric’s face, but his back was tense the way it got when he was deeply unhappy about something he was powerless to change. He looked back at Sienne, and she could read his expression clearly: if this is an ambush, I can’t protect you. He stepped back and gestured for Sienne to precede him.

  A second woman had come forward and held the tent flap open for them to enter. Sienne ducked automatically, though the opening was taller than she was, then kept moving to get out of Dianthe’s way. The tent was brightly lit with lanterns whose glass was tinted faintly yellow, enough to warm the tiny flames beyond their own heat. Three more women and a single man stood grouped to one side as if they’d been having a conversation that cut off mid-word when Sienne entered. The women looked much alike, with dark skin and brown hair nearly the same shade, and they, too, wore blue sashes. The man was much older than the ones she’d seen so far, his black hair streaked with gray and his ebony skin wrinkled. He was also gaunt, his blue sash hanging loose around his narrow hips.

  Sitting on a camp stool opposite the door was an attractive woman with red hair and dusty cinnamon skin. Had she been human, Sienne would have said she was in her mid-forties, but she had no idea how werebears aged. The woman wore a blue sash as well, but tied crosswise across her chest, and although her tunic was no fancier than the others, on her it looked majestic. Sienne had met King Derekian once and been impressed at his air of quiet authority. This woman had something of the same mystique.

  The woman rose from the stool and stood with her hands clasped behind her back. “Are you the duke’s daughter?” she asked. Her voice was a husky alto.

  “I am, but—” Sienne began.

  “I speak for our team,” Alaric said from behind her. “Are you Clever?”

  The woman smiled, one corner of her mouth quirking up in a self-deprecating expression. “I am called Clever,” she said, “and I hope that name describes me well, because my people have need of it now. Please, sit. We have much to discuss.”

  13

  The two women who’d greeted them outside the tent had entered and begun setting up folding stools in a circle. Alaric eyed them skeptically. “That’s not going to work for me,” he said. Sienne silently agreed. The stools were sturdy enough, but small, and there was no way they’d support Alaric’s weight.

  “I apologize for not being able to give you proper respect,” Clever said.

  “I don’t mind standing.”

  Sienne was sure this was true. Standing, Alaric commanded the room and was more than a match for Clever’s quiet authority. Sienne took a seat opposite Clever’s and watched the other werebears settle in to either side of the matriarch. The man moved as if his joints pained him, making Sienne wonder again how werebears aged. She would have put his age at over sixty if he were human. The female weres, on closer inspection, didn’t look at all the same once you got past their identical coloration. One looked younger than Sienne, though that might be because of her large gray eyes that gave her an innocent appearance. The other two might have been near Clever’s age. One had a narrow, alert face with the straightest nose Sienne had ever seen. The other was beautiful by human standards, with full lips and rounded cheekbones. She watched Sienne closely, a smile touching those lips, and Sienne looked away in discomfort. It had been a look that assessed Sienne’s appearance and probable abilities and found both lacking.

  The women finished setting up the stools and stepped back. One of them said, “Ready and Knowing have returned from investigating the howl.”

  “Ask them to wait,” Clever said. She turned back to face Alaric. “These are my counselors. Bloom, my sister’s daughter. Deft, who supervises the children. Bright, who is…from what Wit has told us, you would call her a law-speaker. And Test, who communes with God.” She indicated each in turn. Bloom was the young one. Deft had the narrow face. Bright was the beauty. And the man was Test. Sienne examined him closely. The idea that were-creatures might have a relationship with God would have until that night seemed ludicrous. If Test had a relationship with God, it didn’t show on the outside, not the way it did with, for example, the divine Octavian. And why God and not an avatar? She felt full to bursting with questions.

  “My name is Alaric,” Alaric said. “My companions are Sienne, Dianthe, Perrin, and Kalanath. Or did you already know this?”

  “Wit had very little time to explain the situation before we sent him back to you,” Clever said. “You are the duke’s daughter, are you not?” She addressed Sienne. “The wizard?”

  “I am, but I’m not the leader,” Sienne said.

  “I understand that. It is strange to us because we do not let the men lead our people.” Clever eyed Alaric. “But they do lead in battle, and perhaps your scrapping activities are closer to battle than we supposed.”

  “Among humans, men and women are equally capable of leading.”

  “And we are not human.”

  “According to Jac—to Wit, that’s why we’re here,” Alaric said.

  “It is,” Clever said. “You are angry about the manner of your coming here.”

  “Wouldn’t you be? Though I suppose we should be honored that you thought we were so dangerous you sent an army after us.”

  Clever’s lips quirked in a small smile. “I wondered if you’d draw that conclusion. Yes. We were prepared for the possibility you would reject our proposal and decide to tell the world about us.”

  “Wit didn’t think that was the case,” Dianthe said.

  “Wit is an idealist,” Bright said. Her voice was as sweet and beautiful as the rest of her. “He never sees the bad in anyone. It makes him a poor warrior.”

  “But an excellent diplomat,” Clever said. “He persuaded you, didn’t he?”

  “He did,” Alaric said. “But we’re not on your side. You should start doing some persuading of your own.”

  Clever nodded. “You should perhaps know that our community has existed for over three hundred years,” she said. “Before that, we lived in kin-groups, traveling the Empty Lands, as you call them, making our living as best we could. There are no records of how we came to be, so we do not know if we were created deliberately, or arose from the magic places in the Empty Lands.”

  “Though we suspect it was deliberate,” Test said. His voice was as creaky and aged as his appearance. “The magic places are capable of altering creatures, but only to a limited extent. Carvers, for example—”

  “We’ve met carvers,” Alaric said. “Are you saying they used to be human?”

  Test shrugged. “As far as anyone can tell, yes. But changes in bone and blood…those are a simple matter. Not like merging man and beast into a were-creature.”

  “Let us not be sidetracked,” Clever said. “The point is that we have had civilization for as long as humans have, if one counts rising from the ashes of an earlier civilization as a beginning. We may be different in many respects, but we have the same needs and drives as any human. And one of those needs is for a permanent home. We had one until humans from Rafellin started encroaching on it. Since that time, we’ve had to move frequently to avoid contact with them. We believe the time has come for us to stop hiding.”

  Bright shifted as if she wanted to say something, but remained silent. Deft said, “Our children should not grow up feral. We want them to be free from fear that they’ll be discovered. To have a home that isn’t a tent or a cave.”

  “You want to be Rafellish citizens,” Alaric said. “You
want protection by King Derekian.”

  “Precisely,” Clever said. “We want him to acknowledge our right to the land we’ve claimed. It’s not a large piece of land, and we won’t hunt over land claimed by other citizens. We won’t encroach on them at all, in fact. But we need them to stop moving in on our territory so we can have peace.”

  “How much peace will there be when the humans know we exist?” Bright said. “They fear were-creatures too much to ever live alongside them in harmony.”

  “I was about to say the same thing,” Alaric said. “I think you underestimate the human capacity for fearing what they don’t understand. Were-creatures have haunted human settlements for too many years for them to welcome you.”

  “We have never attacked humans,” Clever said. “We have fought them in self-defense, but we have never been the aggressors.”

  “They won’t know that, and if they do know it, many won’t believe it.” Alaric shook his head. “You’d be better off moving somewhere far away from human settlements, so this isn’t an issue anymore.”

  “Some of us believe the same,” Clever said with a swift glance at Bright. “But there are problems with that solution. The first is that the Empty Lands are as deadly to us as they are to you. Moving deeper into them would endanger us, particularly the very old and the very young. The second is that humans are spreading rapidly. Every year they reclaim more of the Empty Lands. However far we go, eventually humans will catch up to us, and then we will be in the same position we are now. Continuing to flee is not a long-term solution.”

  “But you’d be endangering yourselves if you come out into the open,” Sienne burst out. “Right now nobody knows about you, but when they find out, some brave idiot will think it’s his duty to rid the world of the evil werebears who think they’re people.”

  “Then we will fight,” Clever said.

  “And you’ll die,” Alaric said. “Taking some of them with you, sure, but how will that help your cause?”

  Clever stood and took a few steps until she was nearly face to face with Alaric. Sitting, she hadn’t looked tall, but now Sienne could see she was almost of a height with Alaric. “We are dying now,” she said, her low alto even lower as if imparting a great secret. “We already are forced to spend the winter in bear form because we cannot build permanent shelters for our human selves. Our children cannot maintain that form for long and some die of exposure. We work so hard to survive we have no time for anything else. We might as well be living in the era just after your civilization collapsed, scrabbling to stay alive, with only one hope for a better life. We would rather face the world honestly, even if that means war, than endure this slow, agonizing death.”

  Alaric stared her down, his face expressionless. Clever said nothing more. Bright shifted again, drawing Sienne’s attention. She looked angry for the briefest moment, then the anger slid away, leaving her as expressionless as Alaric. It was so complete a transformation Sienne almost doubted she’d seen it.

  “I see,” Alaric said finally. “This really is a matter of life or death for you.”

  “It is,” Clever said.

  Alaric turned and looked at Sienne. “Is this something you can convince the king of?”

  Sienne blinked. “Me?”

  “You’re the one he’d be willing to hear from. Can you?”

  “I…don’t know. If I could get all of us in…Perrin is the one with the silver tongue—wait. Are you saying we’re going to do it?”

  “I’m saying,” Alaric said, “that Clever is right. It’s risky, but it’s the only option.”

  “It is not the only option,” Bright said, rising from her stool. “You overstate the dangers of the Empty Lands. If we go far enough north, we can build a settlement that will allow us to grow so when the humans find us again, we will be able to face them on our own terms. This will destroy us.”

  “Bright, enough,” Clever said. “We have been over this already. Moving north simply defers the problem to a future generation. I choose not to have my name cursed by my descendants.”

  Bright scowled. It made her look much less attractive. “So you’d rather have your name cursed by your contemporaries.”

  “Everyone agrees with Clever,” Bloom said. Her voice was soft and diffident, but she radiated a calm assurance that made Sienne rethink her estimate of her age. “We’re tired of hiding.”

  “Not everyone agrees,” Bright said. “This is a foolish endeavor. We don’t even know if these people can do what they promise. Or whether their king will listen, let alone grant us what we ask for.”

  “I can promise the king will see us,” Sienne said. “But you’re right, we have no control over what he’ll do about your request. Except…I don’t know. King Derekian doesn’t think like other people. He might see you werebears as the solution to some problem nobody knows about. I think it’s worth asking.”

  “And, if I may,” Perrin said, “we can make our request in secret, without revealing your location, so if the worst happens and the king attempts to eradicate you, you will have time to escape. Fleeing into the Empty Lands may be suboptimal, but it is better than death.”

  Bright cursed under her breath. “I do not support this plan,” she said, and pushed past Dianthe and Kalanath to fling open the tent flap and storm away.

  Deft stood and went to the door, but didn’t leave. “She may be a problem,” she said.

  “She knows her duty and will do it,” Clever said. “And she is not wrong that it is a terrible position for us to be in.” She extended her hand to Alaric. “This is how humans seal an agreement, yes?”

  Alaric clasped her hand. “It is. I hope our help makes a difference.”

  “If you can be convinced, perhaps others can, too.”

  “We are unusual, if you will permit me an immodesty,” Perrin said. “Do not expect most humans to react as placidly.”

  “We do not intend to force our company on others,” Test said. He rose slowly, as if his joints were unoiled hinges left unmoved for a century. “And God is on our side. She has guided us this far, and she will not desert us now.”

  “Do you worship God directly, like my people?” Kalanath said.

  “I do not know who your people are.”

  “I am Omeiran. We live across the Ikh—the Bramantus Mountains.”

  “You are dark, for a human.” Test looked Kalanath up and down. “We did not know of the avatars until recently. God’s voice has always been distant, but clear—clearer to some than to others. She tells us we are not monsters, nor have we been abandoned by Her.”

  “I would be interested to speak further with you on this subject,” Perrin said. “I am a priest of Averran, one of God’s avatars, and your worship intrigues me.”

  “So would I,” Kalanath said.

  “We would show you hospitality tonight,” Clever said. “Or would you prefer to return to your camp?”

  “We don’t want to put you out,” Sienne began, but Alaric interrupted her with “That would be welcome, yes.”

  “Then allow me to give you a place where you can sleep, and in the morning we will discuss further,” Clever said.

  Sienne stood and waited for Clever and Alaric to pass, then followed Alaric out of the tent. Wit still waited there, standing as if he meant to go on doing so indefinitely. Two unfamiliar men, both as brown-skinned as Bloom and Deft were, waited nearby. “Did you—” Wit said.

  “You presume much,” Clever said, but she was smiling. “They will help us.”

  Wit’s gaze went from Clever to Alaric. “That’s—thank you! I was afraid you’d hold my eagerness against us.”

  “Next time, don’t bring an army,” Alaric said. He sounded stern, but Sienne could see the amusement in his eyes.

  “I won’t—well, there won’t be a next time,” Wit said.

  “Take them to our tents and see that they’re made comfortable,” Clever told him. “And don’t talk their ears off. It’s after midnight and I’m going back to bed on
ce I’ve spoken with Knowing and Ready.” The two strangers came alert at the sound of their names.

  “Sleep well, sister,” Wit said. “Come with me, please.”

  The last was addressed to Sienne and her friends, so even though Sienne wanted to know if Clever really was his sister, she followed Wit through the encampment to a fire pit surrounded by a ring of tents. They looked no different from the others, but Wit behaved as if he were presenting them with a mansion. “There’s a place for each of you. Or should be, if Swift did his job.”

  “You talk too much, cousin,” Swift said, emerging from one of the tents. “Of course I did my job. Would you like us to go pack up your things and bring them here?”

  “They’ll be fine until morning,” Alaric said. “Who did you evict so we could have tents to ourselves?”

  “Just family,” Swift said. “They’ve all gone to sleep with other kin groups.” He lowered his voice. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but most of us are afraid of humans. They’d rather not sleep near you.”

  “That’s ironic, considering how much humans are afraid of weres,” Dianthe said.

  “Tell them we’re grateful,” Alaric said. “And we’re not offended.”

  Kalanath yawned. “I think we do not need to watch tonight,” he said.

  “We’d take it as an insult,” Wit said.

  “Of course,” said Alaric. “Sienne?”

  Sienne almost asked him what he meant before noticing he was holding a tent flap open for her. She must be more tired than she thought. Well, if there were enough tents for them to sleep separately, she didn’t need to bunk with Dianthe. Even if sex wasn’t in the offing. She went inside and dropped to her knees on the bedroll. It was thicker than hers and smelled of a heavy musk Sienne guessed was the natural scent of a werebear. It wasn’t much different from how Alaric smelled in unicorn form.