Chapter 10: Truth's Sharp Blade

"Education consists mainly of what we have unlearned." – Mark Twain

A wavering mist covered the floor of the pups' sleeping room. Sally watched in puzzlement as it made its way around their beds, shifting and crawling up the sides of the child-sized sided sleeping platforms. She tried to run toward her defenseless children as terror struck deeply, sending a cold wave of fear to cascade over her body. She could not move! Terror commanded she run to save her children, yet her body would not budge. Every cell strained as she willed her legs to move yet they stayed frozen as a marble statue. She finally found her voice and cried out. What emerged was a hoarse whisper that no one would hear, "Help! Anyone! The pups are in danger!" Expecting to see Yin and Yang bound into the room, she helplessly watched the fog whirl around stalking her young as purposefully as a living thing.

Abruptly she was blinded when a great light shone from a point the room. It was so great, she squinted her eyes in pain. Then it unexpectedly dimmed and collapsed into a great form as the Matriarch reopened her eyes to behold Ulfr in all his muscled glory, standing with weapons drawn in the middle of the room.

"Ulfr!" her mind screamed, "Help them!" The fog coalesced into several dim shapes that sprang into battle with the Elder. He whirled with extended blades at each wrist, slicing and stabbing the ethereal foe. The shapes laughed at him and drew together to pounce. Sally watched him, still slinging his blades, as the gray shifting forms did not jump but rather slid over him, and he slowly sank down into the floor. He stared open-mandibled at her as his rumbling words calmly breached the distance between them, "Sal-lee, they cannot be fought alone…"

"Noooooooooooooooooooooooooo!" the soundless word fled her open mouth as she finally found control regained and…sat up in bed. Drenched in sweat and gasping for air she looked around the empty room, realizing she had emerged from a nightmare.

It was during the time that Melanie and Sally were becoming friends that a greatly displeased Aldúlfr uncharacteristically shifted in his chair as the translator Theron entered the Matriarch's receiving room. He bowed respectfully to her and noticed that Yin and Yang had accompanied him while staying a few paces in back. What was going on? His body automatically tensed and his eyes bounced about the room assessing any danger.

"I welcome your return, Theron, and trust that you had a productive visit aboard your Clanship."

"I did Honorable Matriarch, and give you my gratitude again for allowing me to return for a few cycles."

"I need to ask you an important question, although my Consort has advised me against it. I trust in your honor and your commitment to serve me – even though I know I am still just a human in your eyes."

"You are the Matriarch, as ordained by the High Council. They have requested my service to you, my Elder has ordered it. So…I am here."

"My question is not meant to offend you, Honorable Theron. I have purpose in what I do. Please hear me."

The translator nodded and cocked his head in curiosity. So much careful preparation just to ask a question?

"I know that from the Dor'an all other Clans sprang. So you are rightfully proud of your heritage. And you serve me along with Hunters of other Clans such as my guards, Myn-dill, Sig-dan and my Consort. I trust all of you and count on you to protect my pups. Even though your purpose here is to be my translator, Theron, there may be a time when the lives of my pups will be threatened. May I count on you to defend them?"

Theron puffed up to show his importance, "Indeed, Honorable Matriarch. Your pups hold the future of all our Clans. I would lay down my life for them if need be."

Sally nodded her gratitude back. "My life is not quite as important - my fertility has already been secured. However, my Healer tells me that it is important that I remain the Matriarch until one of the pups is old enough to assume the position. In fact, he gives me treatments to extend my life. I am obviously much weaker physically than a Yautja Matriarch – you know this. So I must ask brave Hunter, if I were in danger would you also defend me?"

"Sei, I would, without question! You are the Matriarch and the savior of our race, all Yaut will defend you."

"Good. And what of my guards or my Consort? If there were suddenly attacked by a group that they could not win against – would you aid them?"

Theron was quiet, his mandibles locked tightly against his face. "I cannot pledge that, Honorable Matriarch. They must fend for themselves."

"I need you to act as Hunt Brothers, to have each other's backs. All of you are important to the protection of my pups. I do not know what lies ahead for them in the future – but I have seen enough of the Yautja to realize that as Honorable as your race is - there are Badbloods among you, and those who plot for political gain. I accuse no one, but I must prepare to have my children protected if need be. Do you understand? You and the rest may have to act as a force, a team working together for the benefit of the pups. So, you must all be able to trust each other."

Theron continued to look thoughtful as he considered her words. "You want me to bind myself to them?" His face was as scrunched as the face of a Hunter could be and Sally couldn't decide if he was completely dismayed with the idea or just trying to consider it.

"Matriarch, my clan does not bind with Hunters outside of our own Clan."

"I have researched Theron and I can show you in history where on a few specific times or in special circumstances, Hunters from your Clan have bound themselves to Hunters of other Clans. We are about to witness the rebirth of the Yautja female. Is this not such a time?" She set her fixed gaze upon his gray eyes and held them captive there, waiting for him to respond. "We must unite ourselves for the children, Theron. I believe this with all my heart. I believe this so much, that I will get on my knees and humble myself to you, if that will move you to say yes to my request."

Sally began to bend herself to get down on her knees in front of Theron who was quite amazed at this act and his hand went automatically to the sheath at his side. Aldúlfr was immediately on his feet and beside her, "No, Sal-lee!" his gentle but gruff voice urged her to stop. "Sal-lee…NOOOO," he growled. Sensing the tension, Yin and Yang moved in to stand right behind Theron, alert for any command from their Matriarch.

"Honorable Matriarch," Theron began oddly ill-at-ease, "In my culture, you kneeling to me has a different meaning than I believe you intend. Please stand," Unused to any tone of pleading in his voice, Sally was caught off guard but gracefully stood. After she was on her feet, he explained. "That is the position you would assume if you were requesting me to kill you. It is very simple to drive my blade from your throat down into your heart." Aldúlfr's low threat was beginning to become audible to Sally's limited human hearing, but Theron continued, "It is a quick and merciful death, Honorable Matriarch."

Sally pulled herself together as regally as possible. "That, indeed, would not have been my request of you, Translator. What I AM requesting is that you bond yourself to me and to all in this room for the protection of the pups," she said bluntly. "I have ordered my Consort to extend invitation to a Hunt bonding ceremony, which I also know you use in your Clan."

Disciplined Theron's mottled gray skin nearly blanched at her words, but he held his reaction in check and then relaxed his tension as an idea occurred to him. The bonding ceremony of Hunt Brothers was indeed a Dor'an custom, but it was only effective for the Hunt. What the Matriarch was actually seeking was a much more enduring bond that was unique to his Clan – the Blood Bond. It was also bound to be very painful for a mere human.

Theron gave the slightest of nods in prideful submission to her, "Honorable Matriarch, in my Clan we have a much more significant bond than being merely Hunt Brothers. Let me consult with my High Council Elder and request that I make such a bond with all of you. If I have permission, then I will submit to your order."

The Consort's displeasure was increasing and Sally could still hear his dangerous rumble. Yin and Yang were both on edge, ready to spring on the pompous translator should anyone but give the slightest signal. Sig'dan was also ready to back up his Sire, and even the ever calm Myn'dill was on his feet.

Sally knew that with her slightest indication, her loyal Yautja would take down this haughty Hunter, but that would not serve her purposes. "You have MY permission to consult with your Elder, Theron. Please do so at once and return to me with your answer. You were ordered by your High Council Elder to serve me. I do not take your request to consult with him lightly, and this delay of your obedience will remain in my memory. Go." She stared directly into his murky eyes with all the power she could convey and challenged him with her directness. He met her eyes and did not look away for a moment, yet had to as her order had been for him to leave. Distressingly, that would mean he had to break eye contact first. How cleverly she had led him to this moment of public submission! How wily of her to make his desire her order.

Theron left the room and quickly made his way from the Matriarch's residence feeling not quite as sure of his path. He was followed by the Healer, Myn'dill, who caught up with him, "May we speak, Honorable Theron?"

"My outlook is colored with anger right now, Honorable Healer and I would not wish to offend you," Theron answered honestly as they walked side by side.

"You do not offend me, and I understand your anger. She is intelligent for an ooman is she not?"

The translator would not express agreement, "She is…clever…I did not expect her to use my own words against me."

Myn'dill suppressed his clicks of humor, "Perhaps you will not underestimate her again. May I accompany you to the High Elder? He is an old…acquaintance of mine. In fact I sought you out through his recommendation. I believe he may allow new light to be beamed upon this situation for you."

Theron was quite curious now. What could his Dor'an High Council Elder have to do with this non-Dor'an healer? "If it will help clarify her strange request, and you do not fear being killed on the spot, then come with me."

They walked the rest of the way, without talking, to the Hall of the High Elders where offices and council chambers took up much of the imposing structure. The council was not in session so the pair went to the Dor'an High Elder's office and signaled their presence via the com. The door opened and a bowing aseigan showed them inside. "Wait here, the High Elder will attend you when he has completed what he is doing."

Theron and Myn'dill stood and looked around the room, learning what they could about its occupant. There were many tomes and scrolls installed in niches that had been carved out of the stone walls. The dark walls led upwards to a curved ceiling with a clear domed round in the middle where orange sunlight flooded into the very center of the room and splashed out upon the dark walls. Here and there in between the niches were artistic engravings of mighty Hunters fighting real and mythical honorable prey, or attending statuesque females bedecked with rings, skulls and little else. The artist had been gifted and the portrayals looked as though at any moment they would jump off the wall into the room and continue their action in front of the gawking Hunters.

A muffled noise of footfall brought their attention back to the doorway as the High Elder stood there taking them in. "Myn'dill! We have spoken but it has been far too long since I have scented you!" He reached the duo and gave the Healer's shoulder a hearty shake. "Welcome, my Honorable Bloodline! You are a most welcome sight!"

Bloodline? Stoic Theron was aghast. Has my hearing deceived me? By what trick of the Gods is the Healer an offspring of the Dor'an High Elder? So caught up in his thoughts was the Hunter that he did not realize his maw was agape. The High Elder turned to welcome him and began clicking and chortling at Theron's inability to conceal his astonishment. Grasping the Hunter's shoulder, the High Elder also greeted him, "Welcome Theron! Come, both of you and drink with me. There is much to speak of and certainly Theron deserves a good story, don't you think Myn'dill?"

Around the generous table they sat and raised their flagons to the souls of fearless warriors – 'bhu'ja sain'ja mid-de h'dlak' and tossed down the aged c'ntlip, the Elder's tawny tusks tapped in appreciation as he drank. "Young Theron," he began, let us all pour another and I will begin this tale from my history."

"I was about your age, Myn'dill. Old enough to have been through many hunts and mating seasons, I was a well-trained, deadly warrior – just like Theron. I was on a solo hunt on one of the game planets. My Sire had honored me with the use of his personal hunting craft and I was enjoying tracking my prey with only myself to rely on.

"I was cloaked, observing a fine specimen when I was hit from behind – quite ferociously. Knocked off my feet, I was amazed that something had come up behind me without my knowledge! As I managed to get up and looked around, I saw nothing until I changed my mask setting and there was the large shimmer of another cloaked Hunter. Instantly I sent my challenge, "If we are to dispute which of us hunts this planet then let us be honorable and uncloak, worthy Hunter!"

"The shimmer fled to reveal a tall and unmistakably female figure! She roared her challenge back and immediately positioned herself to strike. Ka! I was indeed the one who was stricken! True, she was not of my Clan, but there was something alluring about her. Her strong scent was divine! And her features, although coarse, were well suited to her. She was a rare one for her Clan - a Huntress. She had come to the game planet alone to hunt in order to distance herself from the rut taking place back on her Clanship. And her skills! I witness that she fought as well or better than a male of her lineage and her stealth was as good as my own! And she was brave enough to challenge me! What male worth his codpiece could resist that?

"Can you imagine Theron? Fighting a female who is in season? We crossed blades and then grappled hand-to-hand, for when I struck her blade from her I threw mine away also. Her skin was hot to my touch and she nearly won our jehdin-jehdin due to my distraction! My devotion to my Clan was broken by the temptation within my grasp. So, in the end I subdued her with speedy skill and she submitted to me. Ka! I would like to portray that she was stricken with want by my magnificence, but in purity she was overcome with her own unsatisfied urges. We rutted for many cycles – she was desperately in need from trying to remain barren in order to continue to hunt. After she was pregnant with our Healer here, we hunted together and took trophies. Then, she left for her Clanship and I for mine.

"It is not an encounter that I wanted anyone to know about. It would have brought not only decay to my reputation, but potential dishonor to my Sire's bloodline. All these long cycles and only I and my offspring Myn'dill and his Bearer knew of it. And now I entrust my secret to you Theron. It was I who recommended you as translator to Myn'dill when he told me of the Matriarch's need. I search out and follow the careers of all talented Warriors in my bloodline.

Theron set down his drink, "I am honored by your attention, my Elder." He lowered his head in submission to his superior and then asked, "Did you ever see her again?"

"Many long cycles later, I saw her again in Yaut's capital city. She took me aside and told me of our pup, Myn'dill and where I could find him. He was not raised as a Dor'an, but he is half our blood, Theron. And I am proud of his accomplishments. In our inward tradition, I chose not to publically claim him. It is enough that we know of our bond."

Theron was striving for how to respond as he closely examined the blackness of his Kainde Amedha skull flagon. The back part of the prey's skull was a natural deep bowl that was put to many functional uses by the Yautja. "I have heard such stories before, Honorable High Elder, yet I did not know if they were true."

"This one is. And what do you think now?"

"I…am surprised to learn that my High Elder has partaken outside of his Clan, and even more surprised to learn he allowed a pup to be born of it," Theron almost hissed out the last part of his sentence and boldly looked the High Elder in the eyes. "I did not expect to find such weakness at such a high level."

As Theron spoke, the High Elder's mandibles spread out to their full extension. Myn'dill readied himself to jump out of the way of his attack on the outspoken Hunter when an explosion of Yautja laughter blasted his ears.

"Theron…you do not know…you have so very little to be haughty about!" he choked out between clicks and rumbles of great amusement. "Myn'dill will do a much more accurate job of telling you about this. Tell him, Honorable Myn'dill. Tell him of the courage of our ancestors!" Another rolling series of clicks and deep trills came from the High Elder. Theron was on his feet, completely offended and ready to either attack the Elder or leave in disgust.

Myn'dill's smoother voice tried to soothe the situation, "Honorable Theron, be seated. There is much truth I have to add to what has already been related. Truth is here if you are able to bear it." The Healer held Theron's eyes in earnest request until the lethally disquieted Warrior finally gave in to curiosity and resumed his seat.

"Theron, pour yourself another drink. You need it to hear this," Myn'dill began. "What I am about to tell you is now known to a very few inside the Dor'an Clan, and only the rest of the High Council and myself outside of the Clan. You must swear your silence to the High Elder before I share this with you. Do you swear?"

Theron considered carefully. With all deliberateness he poured himself another c'ntlip and took a long audible sip between his palate and tongue. The liquid burned his tongue but mellowed as it ran down his throat. "How can I swear to silence on a matter I know nothing about? What if my honor demands otherwise?"

Faster than Myn'dill's eye could follow, the Elder's body flew like a spear across the table. The Healer turned to see Theron's throat being slowly squeezed and tilted forward in forced submission while both hands were held together and skewered by the talons of the massive Elder's paw. "You will swear your silence, or I will guarantee it," the Elder Dor'an growled. "If you live past this moment, you will learn how vain and hollow your self-importance is. Yet you must not tell anyone, for most are not able to abide with this truth. I would bring you into its light only because it is necessary for you to understand so that you will follow your Matriarch's orders that Myn'dill has told me about. The entire Yautja race is at stake and will not be held hostage to your false pride."

Theron was beginning to turn dark with lack of air to breathe and he could not move his hands from beneath the slab of muscle behind the needles that pinned him. The Elder jerked his neck so that he could look upon the muddled face. "Let your eyes tell me if you will submit," he ordered. Slowly, the death grasp was loosened and the bloody green talons pulled from the flesh which freely dripped and ran onto the table. "I believe your audience is prepared, Myn'dill."

"You swear your silence?" Myn'dill asked again.

"Sei…I swear…to tell…no one," Theron was able to choke out.

"Then listen! Recall from the High Elder's story, how he was unable to resist the musk of the Huntress on the game planet? All females from other Clans produce musk much more potent than from the Dor'an Clan. Therefore you see the reason for his strong reaction. In fact Dor'an males are unable to resist the mating musk of ANY female not of their Clan. This is why you and your brothers are restricted to mating within Dor'an. Outside of the Clan you become helpless around any rutting female, weak to her allure with no thought as to her worthiness as the Bearer of your pup. To cover this weakness, your Ancients invented the idea that you are racially purer than the other Clans and ruled that you would only mate within Dor'an. Yet, indeed you are the first of the Clans from which all others sprang. So, just why are all Dor'an males afflicted with this weakness? Why did the Dor'an females produce such weak scent? And why do you all look so different from the rest of us?

"Settle and drink young Warrior. Open your mind to what has been hidden. Hidden out of shame…listen to the adventures of the cycles of so long ago - when we were yet a single Clan without Clanships. We all lived on the surface of Yaut…"

The crew of the returning science vessel was celebrating success. The native predators, that they had blended their genes with, had successfully bred and their offspring were larger, stronger, smarter and amazingly deadly. They quickly ascended the ranks in the family groups they had been born into and then conquered nearby families. As they vanquished foes they acquired the defeated's mates and territory. After killing any existing offspring and beating the pregnant females until they aborted, they rutted and filled the home territory with their own Blood Line.

One of the scientists raised his tankard in victory and they all joined him in a drink to nain-desintje-de, the pure win. After his liquid success had been quaffed, he made a thoughtful comment, "This was indeed a win for our research. However, as impressed as I am with the strength of the hybrids, I am dismayed at their ruthlessness. These new creatures have no law and no honor. They destroy anything in their way in any manner they can, intent on only procuring more mates, more offspring, and greater territory. They are only for themselves, not for their race. This has been a valuable experiment, but if this intelligent creature is allowed to continue it will soon dominate its planet and perhaps present a future threat to ourselves!"

The other scientists to a Hunter agreed. One offered, "Let us open the planet to Hunters and eliminate this risk, while also providing great sport. It will require some of our best Hunters to bring these creatures down. The females are as great a sport as the males - we will open both sexes to hunting. Surely the Hunters can claim no dishonor in hunting females as aggressively strong as these?" The others agreed, so the call to Yaut was made and soon the fleet Hunt transports came bringing many troupes of three. A few fleet smaller ships brought brave solo Hunters. True to the scientists' promise, the prey was intelligent, strong and brave – truly an honor to take trophies from. The Hunter's enjoyed their victories but mourned that they were taking the last of this species.

The adult males and just as formidable females were hunted until only the pups were left. "What shall we do with them?" some of the Hunters' inquired of the scientists. "It would not be honorable to kill them, they are only pups."

One of the scientists ventured a solution, "Let us take the pups to Yaut. There we will raise them to adulthood without permitting them to breed. Then we will release them on a preserve and allow another Hunt." This brilliance was greeted heartily by the Hunters, and the other scientists agreed. So the young were taken back to the Homeworld.

Myn'dill stopped to take a breath and refresh his mouth with a drink before continuing, "There they were raised and then flown to be released to a hunting planet, just as the scientist had suggested. The number of Hunters who demanded to hunt them was so great that a great spar was held on Yaut, with the winners obtaining the right to hunt the hybrids.

"When the last unbred hybrid became a trophy, the scientists clicked relief that their experiment would not return to haunt them or their progeny. But, unknown to any, one of the scientists kept genetic material from some of the hybrids and placed it in stasis – in case there was some need for it in the future.

"The samples were put into storage and forgotten for a long, long time. When they were finally remembered, it was a new time when the Yautja were attempting to improve the race. At first, the improvement had been through selective breeding, weeding out of the weak, proper training, diet – all the things you are familiar with now. But some scientists in the Clan, and remember there was only one in those times, decided to experiment with the basic instructions, the genetics of the Clan. They worked until they were able to decipher the genetic instructions that rule us all. At first, they used this to detect any abnormality or undesired trait within the unborn. Such fetuses could easily be eliminated from the female's body and she was soon free to try again. Then, researchers discovered how to splice instructions from one creature to another.

"So it was not long before attempts were made to make 'improvements' to our kind. Specific instructions from the genes of other species were inserted and joined with our own in attempts to make us stronger, faster, improve our senses – whatever could be imagined. The hybrid genetic material was retrieved from stasis, found to be still good and spliced with our own. The results of this experimentation were sometimes amazing, sometimes beyond horrible. Many fetal pups were destroyed as the 'improvement' turned into an abomination of abnormality. Sometimes the problem did not show until the pup was older, or about to enter breeding age. The disposing of experimental adults and newborn pups did not sit well with the Elders. They questioned the honor of these trials. How could there be a shortcut to strength, stamina and all the other qualities of a Hunter? These things had traditionally been brought out in the individual and then the race by good natural breeding, raising and training. Some grumbled that this was an attempt to 'play Paya' and would only be rewarded with difficulty.

"As experiments with the hybrid traits continued, new Hunter arose, not just a Hunter but a Warrior. Physically, although he was not as tall or large as other Hunters, he moved almost faster than the eye could witness! He was tougher, smarter and braver than any other on Yaut. He was the product of the hybrid splice with our own material, and he was as a living Cetanu. None could best him in the arena, none could take the trophies that he took. All the females fought each other for him and on each of his pups he imprinted his qualities. Before long our race was threatened by a change within that some feared and some loathed. Because you see, this new Warrior was without honor. He took what he wanted and none could stop him.

"In an effort to contain his pups they were taken away from their Bearers at a younger age than most, and put through the harshest training in order to obtain their obedience and respect. Even he could see the advantage of this method. Thinking himself much better than other Hunters of Yaut, he took his Bearers and pups away to another place and there they made their own Clan. They forbid their offspring to mate outside the Clan, fearing dilution of their horrible genes.

"After they departed there was much infighting. The group left here in this city split into five Clans at first, and then into the Eight you know now. They forbid their members to mate with the first Clan that had moved away – Clan Dor'an after their founder – the spliced hybrid Dor-u's. The Clans he left behind warred with each other until the High Council was formed and the great peace you know now encompassed Yaut. Genetic splicing was outlawed, and over time genetic aberrations were absorbed into the general populace and do not now commonly appear.

"Sometimes, a Hunter and a Bearer will have recessive genes that will pair up in their offspring and something different can be found in their pup – things such as an odd color like pure white, or a pup that has oddly superior vision. Sometimes, the superstitious among us will to this day consider the pup an abomination and have it killed or placed with the aseigan. Different Clans have handled this in different ways.

"The thing to realize in my tale is that the reason that the Dor'an were ruthless and without honor in those days, and the reason they look different from the rest of this to this cycle is due to the prey whose genes are now part of their own. Those genes came from oomans, Theron…oomans.

"The very ones you will not defile your 'pure' blood with, are the ones responsible for the creation of your Clan. They are also the reason that your pups must undergo such harsh training to ensure their submission to law and honor. In their heart, oomans are ruthless and lawless. Even they know this – hence their abundance of laws, social mores and religious rules."

Theron sat looking down at the floor, his whole world turned upside down by the diatribe of Myn'dill. He would have yelled that it was false and throttled the Healer to death, except that the Dor'an High Elder respected the truth of this story. Finally he looked at his High Elder, "Why? Why is this truth kept secret?"

"Because there are many who could not abide it, young Warrior. It would disrupt the Clan and cause chaos. What benefit would it accomplish?"

"But…we go on thinking we are purer and better!"

"Well, we are purer," he chortled. "Purer hybrid! And we do excel in many ways, do we not?"

Theron considered and then answered, "Sei, I suppose so. It is a large shock to learn this. I must take time to consider all your words, Honorable Myn'dill."

"Do so!" The Elder ordered, "And then see if you can look upon the Matriarch's request with favor. She expects an answer after next sunrise!"