Lupi 09 - Mortal Ties

policeman or doctor—from habit, from respect, from the assumption that
     the cop or physician knows what’s best. They knew that disobedience had consequences,
     but they didn’t have a gut-deep certainty that it was
right
to obey. And the consequences of disobedience were different for them.
    Lupi didn’t harm women. Ever.
    A lupus who erred in a minor way was chastised physically. He might be given some
     onerous job as well, but the physical defeat was what mattered. It proved that he
     wasn’t
allowed
to disobey; those with authority over him could force his obedience, and there was
     comfort in that. Comfort, too, in the simple expiation of guilt—first pain, then healing,
     both physical and emotional.
    Women couldn’t be punished physically. The idea was deeply repugnant. Besides, it
     would bring fear, not comfort. For a minor transgression, a female clan might be given
     chores, a stern talking-to, something along those lines.
    Serious disobedience was rare, but it happened. When it did, shunning was the usual
     consequence for both male and female clan. During the shunning—which traditionally
     lasted from one day to one week—no one would speak to you, look at you, acknowledge
     your existence in any way. No one except your Rho. He was the only one who knew you
     were alive, who might—if he chose—meet your eyes for a moment.
    Rule had been shunned for three days before he was named Lu Nuncio. Not because he’d
     disobeyed. His father had wanted him to understand in his gut how serious a punishment
     shunning was.
    It had worked. Rule had had nightmares off and on for a year.
    If a transgression was so severe that a week’s shunningcouldn’t expiate it, the punishment was death or removal from the clan. Of the two,
     lupi considered death more merciful, but both were extremely rare. In Rule’s lifetime,
     his father had had two Nokolai lupi killed for major offenses. None had ever been
     banished.
    But five female clan had.
    One had been a thief. She’d stolen from the clan itself. Two had been simply troublemakers
     and liars who couldn’t refrain from stirring up those around them. Another had nearly
     caused the deaths of two children through a combination of willful disobedience, arrogance,
     and stupidity. Each of those four had been driven to the destination of their choice,
     given a couple thousand dollars, and cut off forever from Nokolai.
    The fifth one had caused the tortuous death of a Nokolai lupus out of petty vindictiveness.
    Twenty-two years ago, Nevada, Texas, Georgia, and Mississippi still had shoot-on-sight
     laws for lupi who were in wolf form, though they were being challenged in court. Most
     other states still had laws on the books for locking up lupi in either form, but by
     then the lockup was only until they could be turned over to the feds. The federal
     government was enthusiastically pursuing its more humane policy toward Rule’s people:
     catch them, brand them, dose them with gado, then allow them to lead “normal” lives.
    Gado weakens lupi, depriving them of both strength and healing. It also blocks moonsong,
     preventing the Change. Lupi go crazy if deprived of the Change for too long. Different
     lupi react differently to the drug; for a few, the effects of a single dose linger
     for months.
    Sheila had been angry at Carlos, a fellow clansman and former lover, and had turned
     him in to the feds. He’d been caught, branded, and dosed. Nokolai found Carlos after
     the feds released him, and hid him. That was no easy task back then. The brand on
     his forehead wouldn’t heal until the gado was out of his system, and MCD liked to
     keep a close watch on branded lupi, hoping to catch others.
    It hadn’t helped. Four months later, Carlos still couldn’t hear moonsong. He’d committed
     suicide.
    Sheila was gone by then.
    Isen couldn’t let her repeat her crime. She could have taken vengeance on too many
     others by reporting them to the government, up to and including Isen himself. She’d
     proven herself capable of doing just that. So he’d had her smuggled into Cuba, where
     she was given the equivalent of five hundred dollars and left to survive. Or not.
    Rule thought about Sheila as he stood beside Isen and watched clan obediently gather
     in front of their Rho. Any lupus who had done what Sheila had would have been put
     to death. But his people did not hurt women. Ever.
    With one exception.
    Their Lady understood her people. She’d never