Fire in the Cave Read Online Free PDF

have.”
    “Tell me.”
    Highhawk took a deep breath, and began.
    *********
    It happened in the spring, when Nim was kidnapped by the River-folk.
You remember how they took her? She had gone up the hillside to
gather watercress from the stream. When Mother Mara went to join
her, Nim was gone. There were footprints, from three men.
    Mother Mara cried out for the hunters, and we gathered quickly. We
armed ourselves with staffs and throwing-stones, we fed our dogs, we
blacked our eyes with soot. When the sun set, we went over the hill
and through the forest to the river, like a great pack of wolves
running through the night.
    Redheart was mad with worry. He bared his teeth as he ran. He
pounded the earth with his feet, heedless of noise. He slashed at
vines and branches with his staff, and asked why he could not have a
proper stone-tipped spear. Dogs and men glanced at him and growled.
    We all knew of his love for tall, long-haired Nim, how he longed to
choose her but thought no gift would be great enough. How he sighed
whenever he saw a willow tree, because they reminded him of her. The
birthmark on his chest is no lie; Redheart wears his heart open for
all to see. We had laughed at him, and encouraged him, but now his
love was making him foolish. If he could not be careful and quiet,
he would ruin the rescue. If he killed someone, the tribes would be
at war.
    White-stag and Black-dog looked to each other, speaking with their
eyes as they ran.
    White-stag spoke. “Calm yourself, Redheart. Look around you.
See our strength, the warriors of Red Cave! Do we need spears to
beat weakling River-warriors? Are they as fast as deer, as strong as
bears, for us to need such weapons?”
    White-stag leapt over a fallen log as he ran, laughing. “No!
That strength and speed is ours!” he said. “We will take
our sister home, and strip their town of treasures, and leave their
hunters bruised and shamed! But be calm, Redheart, be swift and
silent, show me all your skill. Or you will not be the one to find
and free her first!”
    Redheart scowled. I hid a smile. Such a handsome boy, red-haired,
red-hearted warrior. So simple and pure! “I will be the one
to find her,” he muttered. “I will free her myself.”
He turned his eyes to the ground, and his pace became more even, his
footfalls quieter. He held his staff level with the ground as he
ran, and the dog that ran beside him grinned, tongue hanging.
    Better, I thought. But not enough.
    Black-dog spoke, then. His voice was low, hushed, like the wind
rushing through the tall grass. “I will take the dogs, and two
hunters. We will go to the south of the village. We will howl and
challenge, light a torch and burn a hut. When River-warriors come,
we will lead them into the forest and then slip away.”
    White-stag was silent for a moment. Then, “Who will you take?
Bors, for strength, or Highhawk, for stealth?”
    He knew my skill. Pride made me smile.
    “Highhawk,” said Black-dog. “And Heartwood.”
    Heartwood padded close, silent as a gliding owl. The old warrior was
lean and scarred, with gray in his beard. “I am not fast,”
he whispered.
    “You have skill,” said Black-dog. “You can vanish
like a shadow in the sun. Or are you too tired, old man?”
    Heartwood chuckled. “No, young one, I am too greedy. While
the others take treasure from the village, what gifts shall we have?
The rocks the River-folk throw at us?”
    I laughed, but nodded my agreement.
    Black-dog ducked under a branch, running with body bent as low as the
dogs for a moment, never slowing. He rose, and called to his
brother. “White-stag. Gifts for the scouts.”
    White-stag grinned in the night. “Treasure and gifts for the
brave, clever scouts! We’ll find you something fine.”
    We split off, then. Black-dog, Heartwood, and me. Black-dog
whistled, and the hounds followed us. We headed south.
    Hours, then, of attack and retreat. Stealth, then shouts and staves
striking flesh, then stealth once