Lupi 09 - Mortal Ties

moves. That they’ll spot quickly even at a great distance, though the object
     itself may be an unidentifiable blur.
    Even two-footed Rule’s sense of smell was better than a human’s, but in this form
     smells burst upon him, wrappinghim in a more deeply dimensional world. The air was alive, textured with information
     more layered and complex than any of Rembrandt’s paintings. His ears pivoted, helping
     him read that world. He heard Isen’s heartbeat now as well as feeling it pulse through
     the mantle. He heard the throb of all the other hearts timed to it, and realized his
     own heart had fallen into that rhythm the way a rock obeys gravity.
    Rule stood on four feet and felt a whine try to rise in his throat. This was worse
     as wolf. Far worse. Wolves live wrapped in instinct, and his were at war. Rule remained
     four-footed but pulled himself more into the man.
    Sometimes thinking helped.
    His own men were away from the crowd now, no longer surrounded by the scent of the
     clan who had been their enemy for so long. They would do well enough even if their
     hearts did beat faster for a bit. But he didn’t want to be compelled into the rhythm.
     He was Nokolai and obedient to his Rho, but he was also Leidolf, and he would not
     be compelled. He turned part of his attention to his breathing once more. His breath
     answered him, but his heart didn’t want to obey. Fear was clutching at him with clammy
     hands, trying to wrest control. He knew what the order to Change meant. He knew.
    This was the form for Challenge…or judgment.
    Isen signaled for Rule to resume his place at his side. He obeyed. Quietly Isen said,
     “Pete. Name two squads who are all on the field now that you trust completely.”
    Pete paused. “Seven and Eight.”
    “Squads Seven and Eight!” Isen boomed out. “Change!”
    They did. Two of the newer wolves were inadvertently caught up in it. They immediately
     lowered themselves to the ground in apology.
    “Seventh and Eighth squads—disperse so that at least one of you stands with each group.”
    Wolves began to move through the crowd. As they did, Isen turned slowly, letting his
     gaze sweep over the gathering. He made a full circle before he spoke again. “I require
     you now, all of you, to think. To remember. Who have youspoken with about Cullen Seabourne’s workshop? About what he has been working on?
     You’ve discussed it with other Nokolai, of course. But perhaps someone who is not
     Nokolai was curious. Perhaps one of our guests. Such curiosity is natural, but you
     were told not to discuss this outside the clan, so you will remember if someone asked.
     Think about this. Call it up in your memory.”
    Silence. Several moments of it, hearts beating together…but not all of them. Not Laban.
     Not Vochi.
    And not female clan.
    The pull of that demanding pulse continued to build.
Ba-thump, ba-thump, ba-thump…
    Isen raised his voice once more. “Everyone who remembers being asked about these things
     by someone outside Nokolai will come forward now.” Then he lowered his voice. “Pete.
     Make room for them. Forty or fifty, I suspect. Don’t move Laban and Vochi.”
    Pete moved away and began directing those groups closest to the center to other parts
     of the field. Others began moving up in ones and twos. It wasn’t silent now, not with
     so many moving forward or back, the inevitable
excuse me
s, feet shuffling as some shifted to allow others to pass. Lily was asking Cynna something
     again. She kept her voice so low that Rule caught only a few words over the noise…enough
     to guess her question. She wanted to know what happened to a subordinate clan that
     screwed its dominant.
    Cynna’s whispered response was clear to a wolf’s ears. “Anything. It can be anything,
     up to and including clan death, if the dominant gets two other dominant clans to agree
     that a betrayal took place. But if the Rho of the subordinate clan admits his guilt,
     it’s kept between those two clans. It’s all on him then, see? Not his clan.”
    Ba-thump, ba-thump, ba-thump…
    Lily asked what happened to that Rho.
    Cynna whispered, “He submits and is killed.”
    Lily didn’t ask any more questions. She waited. Rule waited.
    Most of those making their way forward were female clan.
    That, too, he’d expected. Women were the obvious targets for someone out-clan to question.
     Female clan obeyed their Rho, but they were human, not lupi. They obeyed the way a
     human obeys a