Fireborn Law
CHAPTER ONE
LAWGIVER
Pandeena Moonbow rode into the quiet village of Running Horse at the southern edge of the mountain fastnesses of Clan Silverpaw. She had not been here in centuries, yet it had changed little. Cubs played along the streets: in human form wearing scruffy traditional robes; rolling, barking, and darting about in wolf form; two who had mastered the hybrid form wrestled near a horse trough. People walked the tree-shaded main street, most of them wearing the traditional wraparound robes with loose ties, made of embroidered cloth for the bitches and rope for the dogs. The human clothing styles, prevalent in some of the larger towns, had not yet reached Running Horse. She saw few males in trousers and shirt, and no bitches; which made Pandeena all the more conspicuous in her freeranger-style dark green leathers, trousers and jerkin with a pale brown shirt. She carried a Sharani longsword at her shoulder and a pair of lycan fighting knives at her hips. A two-chambered bow case rode beneath the flap on her heavy lycan saddle.
One of the easiest ways to spot a lycan village was to see how green it was. Unlike the humans in other countries, they had not given up their connection to the natural world. They built up instead of out for the most part, to allow for gardens and trees around their businesses and homes. The balconies of the buildings overflowed with flower boxes and roof top gardens abounded, all tended with loving care.
Two things made Running Horse famous: their strong, tough horses that regularly won the log pull at clan festivals and their lawgiver, Padruig Caimbeul, who was celebrated for his wisdom, even-handed decisions, and utter fearlessness. Pandeena pondered what kind of reception she would get from Caimbeul, considering that they had parted in anger a century ago. The average lycan lifespan was six score years, barring accident, disease, or violence. Caimbeul, however, was nearly five hundred years old. His paternal grandmother had been a fireborn, and he had inherited the lifespan, if nothing else.
Pandeena reached the village common, glanced across the expanse of open green, and spied the Lawgiver House sitting on the northeast corner of Roundtop Street facing the common. She turned her horse onto the green and cut across it, avoiding six sheep grazing there under the watchful eyes of two cubs.
The Lawgiver House was a human-style building — Pandeena noted that she was seeing more of those every time she ventured out into the lands of her people — a blunt brick structure with a columned portico across the front and tie-up rails in the yard. Two lycans sitting on the portico in wooden chairs stopped in their conversation to stare at her as she dismounted and tied her horse to the nearest rail.
She was accustomed to being stared at. Part of the reason was the way she dressed. The second reason was her looks: Pandeena was beautiful, as befitted a granddaughter of the Moon God, Tala, Mistress of Wolves and the Hunt.
A young wolf, his silver hair like a touch of moonlight on a bright night, rose to his feet as she mounted the steps. "Can I help you?"
"I'm looking for the lawgiver."
"That's me. I'm Samuel Tarvish, lawgiver to Running Horse."
Pandeena extended her hand to him, palm up, fingers curved into a half-claw.
Samuel raised an eyebrow at that, grasped her hand and sniffed her fingers. "Lycan?"
Pandeena nodded. "I'm looking for Caimbeul."
"Pity that." The other lycan, a gray-beard on his chin, chuckled. "Pretty bitch like you ought to stay away from that old crosspatch."
She frowned. "We are talking about Padruig Caimbeul?"
"Oh, aye. He's retired now. All he does these days is drink and snarl."
"Where can I find him?"
Samuel led her inside, where he drew a map on a scrap of paper to show her how to find Caimbeul's cottage.
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