by Unknown
Kest dredged around for something to say that was more acceptable than his thoughts. ‘There’s insufficient sustenance within the First Eight to support a longhouse.’
‘I’m aware of the quantity and quality of the gathering in Allogrenia, Protector Leader,’ said Sarkash, with studied politeness. ‘It’s an interim measure until the Clancouncil decides upon our best course of action.’
Kest nodded but his thoughts tumbled about like storm leaves. Surely Sarkash wasn’t going to put their people’s welfare in the grasping, arrogant hands of Maxen – or worse, in the doddering hands of Dekrash and his ilk. Only Miken of Kashclan, and Kest’s own leader, Marren, saw beyond their own prestige and power, or the small matters of their daily existence. And their voices were too often drowned by the rest of the Clanleaders, with all their shortcomings.
‘. . . and Protector Leader Kest, you’re to go to the Bough and see that all’s secure there,’ came Sarkash’s voice.
‘The Bough?’ repeated Kest, snatching at his scattered wits.
‘You needn’t take a patrol with you at this stage,’ went on Sarkash, ‘simply ensure that the Healers are safe and that they remain within the Bough.’
Kest nodded. There was no need of a patrol because to reach the Bough invaders would have to fight past the longhouses and their guarding Protectors. It was one of the advantages of the scattered food sources that had forced the Tremen to build their longhouses apart. His role would be more ceremonial than practical. Was Sarkash punishing him for questioning his authority? He stared at the lined face of his Commander and dismissed the thought. Sarkash had his faults, but vindictiveness wasn’t one of them.
The Protector Leaders groped their way back along the tunnel, Kest following them to the training rooms to collect his sword and pack, then returning alone to the outer cavern. Whereas his fellow Protector Leaders had to gather their patrols, his trip would be solitary. He edged round Nogren’s trunk and started along the Drinkwater Path, eyes scanning the trees. He’d prefer to be heading out to one of the longhouses with his men, than journeying in to the Bough. Whatever way he looked at it, he was little more than a scout, and the bearer of bad news to boot. He quickened his pace, his shadow leaping along the leaf litter before him. It was a good night for travel, for both him and the intruders.
A torrent of curses escaped him, then he forced himself to think of what he must say to Maxen. If it had been Lern or even Merek he must deal with, rehearsal would be unnecessary. But Maxen was not an easy man at the best of times, and these were not the best of times. The Tremen Leader would be far from amused that news of such magnitude was being delivered by a lowly Protector Leader rather than by Commander Sarkash himself, and would no doubt make his displeasure known at length.
Kest strode on, stopping only to wrench off his sweaty jacket and thrust it into his pack. He’d had little to do with Maxen, knowing him more by repute and through Maxen’s dealings with Sarkash. Kest was far more familiar with Merek. His scowl deepened as he thought of his sister’s plans, but he resisted the urge to swear again; Kesilini would be twenty at Turning and well able to choose a bondmate without his help. Still, he would have wished for a warmer, more sociable man for her. Merek was too much like Maxen for his liking, not just in his containment but in his arrogance. Maybe it was a family trait; the daughter was certainly deaf to all advice, roaming wherever the whim took her.
The night grew older before the trees finally gave way to the cleared circle round the Bough. Kest came to a stop in the shadows, catching his breath and scanning the open space, his gaze moving back and forth between the Bough and the trees surrounding it. It was the most beautiful building in Allogrenia, but now all he saw was its horrible vulnerability. The sides were lined with windows, and the large double doors opening into the central hall would be easy to breach.
As he made his way over the open ground, he noted that no lamplight was visible through the shutters. He rapped on the door, scanning again as he waited. Maxen was likely to be even more humourless than usual, dragged from the warmth of his bed. Kest readied the speech he’d prepared but there was no creak of footsteps from within. He rapped again harder, stinging his knuckles. The ashael behind him exploded and Kest’s sword hissed from its scabbard, only to see a bird flapping away, eyes flashing gold. The door opened and he spun back, sword still raised high.
Lern’s sleep-drowsed face froze. ‘Kest,’ he croaked, eyes on the sword.
Kest sheathed his weapon and straightened. ‘Protector Leader Kest,’ he said, with a bow. ‘I’m here on Commander Sarkash’s orders to speak with Tremen Leader Maxen. Is he within?’
‘My father’s still at Clancouncil. We’ve heard from our clanmate Tresen that my father will be there till the morrow. It’s at Kashclan longhouse this moon.’
Kest managed to keep his face expressionless. Sarkash hadn’t mentioned the Clancouncil because even the smallest child knew council meetings took place near the full moon.
‘Who’s within?’ he rasped out.
‘Just me,’ said Lern.
‘But where are the other Healers?’ said Kest, alarmed.
‘Merek was here earlier but he’s probably at your longhouse by now, and Kira and Kandor have gone nut-gathering. I’m here, so there’s a Healer within the Bough, if that’s what’s concerning you, Protector Leader,’ added Lern tartly.
Kest scarcely noticed. His orders were to secure the Bough and to ensure the safety of the Healers there. But what if most of the Healers were elsewhere? He took a steadying breath, calculating quickly. Maxen was at the Kashclan longhouse with Miken and Marren, as well as other men who’d completed Protector training. No doubt it was where Sarkash was going too. Maxen would be safe.
Merek was at Kest’s own longhouse and by first light a Protector Leader and patrol would be there to secure it, so Merek would be safe too. Lern was here alone, but any attack aimed at the Bough would have to pass the Protectors moving out into the octads, so there was no real threat to him either. That left the two youngest Healers and their cursed nut-gathering. It seemed ominous suddenly, that they’d been out all night.
‘When did Kiraon and Kandor leave?’ he asked.
‘At moonrise.’
‘Moonrise? They went nutting at night?’
‘They gather rednuts. The grove’s beyond the Third Eight. They’re usually away four or five days.’
‘Beyond the Third Eight?’ said Kest, shocked.
‘Perhaps Protector Leader, you should come in,’ said Lern politely. ‘It would be a better place to speak.’
Kest nodded and followed him across the darkened hall towards the cooking place, his footfalls echoing. Lern put another log on the fire and sat, gesturing Kest to sit also. But Kest remained standing, wondering what Commander Sarkash would want him to do.
Lern cleared his throat. ‘Kira and Kandor often go rednut harvesting this time of year. They . . .’
‘They go to the rednut groves in Kenclan octad? Those on the Everflow?’
‘Yes.’
‘By the ’green!’ The best Healer the Bough had ever birthed was out in the same octad as the invaders, with only her younger brother for protection. What ill chance was this? thought Kest.
Lern came to his feet again. ‘Will you tell me why you’re here, Protector Leader?’
‘Slashed trees marking a path have been discovered in Allogrenia,’ said Kest.
Lern’s face drained of colour and he sat down heavily. ‘Where?’
Kest said nothing and Lern’s horrified eyes came to his. ‘Not . . . not in the Kenclan octad?’
Kest nodded.
‘Do they mean us harm?’ asked Lern hoarsely.
‘We don’t know,’ said Kest, ‘but until we find otherwise, we must assume they do. Each longhouse is being assigned a patrol, and there will be no travelling beyond the First Eight for the time being. I’ve been sent to ensure the safety of the Healers here. Unfortunately Commander Sarkash didn’t foresee that most
of them wouldn’t be here.’
He took several steps to and fro. ‘It surprises me Leader Maxen allows his children to stray so far alone.’
‘Kira’s always gathered widely,’ said Lern. ‘She knows Allogrenia better than many who’ve lived twice her seasons, and Tresen’s with them.’
‘Tresen of Kashclan?’ asked Kest, eyes widening.
Lern nodded. ‘Clanleader Miken’s son.’
‘He’s been in training only a short time,’ said Kest. ‘He won’t be much use if . . .’ He cut the sentence short and straightened. ‘Healer Lern, I’m returning to the Warens to gather a patrol. I’ll send half back here but in the meantime I ask that you bolt the doors and identify all visitors before allowing entry.’
‘What of Kira and Kandor?’
‘I’ll take the other half of the patrol and go after them,’ said Kest, already striding down the hall. ‘Do you know which part of the octad they’re intending to travel through?’
‘They didn’t say, but I know they’ve got sleeping-slings and that Kira likes to sleep in ashaels. There’s a large stand west of Second Enogren.’
‘I know it,’ said Kest. ‘If they’re journeying slowly, we might be able to catch them. Why does your sister like sleeping in ashaels?’ he asked, stepping out into the cool night air and pulling on his pack.
‘She says they sing in the wind.’
‘Sing in the wind,’ muttered Kest, shaking his head as he strode off into the darkness.
Lern stood staring after Kest long after he’d disappeared among the trees, unwilling to return to his bed despite the weariness dragging at his limbs. This night, when he’d gone to sleep, the world had been as it always was, but now . . . Surely Kest was mistaken. Surely no stranger could find their way into Allogrenia. It was too vast, too tangled, too . . . It was unthinkable!
‘A line of slashed trees’, that was what Kest had said, and it was exactly how a stranger would mark their way. Lern shivered as he thought of Kira, Kandor and Tresen. Surely there’d be no risk to them?
He pulled the door shut, struggling to slide the bolts into place and having to rub nut oil on them before they’d budge. More decorative than functional, it was the first time he’d ever used them.
He slumped into a chair, briefly considering whether to wake Sendra, but there was no point in ruining her night’s rest as well. The flames died down and the log crumbled to a pile of coals but still he sat there. The Bough creaked and groaned and it seemed that he could hear footsteps in one of the storage rooms, and the sly testing of shutters. If only Merek or his father were here. If only Kira and Kandor were tucked in their beds, warm and secure. ‘By the alwaysgreen which Shelters us,’ he muttered, ‘let them be safe.’
9
The night grew old, settling into the deep silence that comes before the earth turns back towards the sun. Tresen slowed, then stopped in a dense stand of terrawoods, his enjoyment of the forest replaced by a preoccupation with sore shoulders and aching legs. He dropped his pack and flexed his shoulders.
‘Time to rest,’ he called, shivering as the night air penetrated his damp shirt.
Kandor came level, throwing off his pack and collapsing onto a log. ‘I’m ready for bed,’ he mumbled, yawning hugely.
‘So am I. We’ll stay here,’ said Tresen. The air was warm and still. It would be a good place to spend the rest of the night.
‘We always sleep in the ashaels,’ said Kira, striding over and making no move to take off her pack.
‘They’re too far,’ said Tresen, rummaging in his pack for the sleeping-slings. ‘Kandor’s all but dead on his feet.’
‘He can go further,’ insisted Kira.
‘He’s too tired.’ Tresen pulled out the first of the bundles. ‘The terrawoods are a good tree to sleep in.’
‘I don’t remember agreeing that you should lead this expedition,’ said Kira.
Kira’s cold tone made Tresen look up. He and Kira rarely quarrelled and when they did it was mostly over her cosseting of Kandor, not the reverse. Now her hands were planted on her hips, and her chin tilted. She’d been unusually quiet on this trip too.
‘What troubles you, Kira?’ he asked.
Her eyes flashed in the last of the moonlight and he braced himself. ‘I’m not going to be bossed about on this trip as well as in the Bough. You sleep here if you want, but we’re going. Come on, Kandor.’
‘It’s not what I want,’ said Tresen steadily. ‘It’s clear Kandor can journey no more this night.’
‘I’m a better judge of that than you’ll ever be, Protector Tresen. Let’s go, Kandor.’
Kandor sat unmoving, his gaze on the ground. ‘Can’t we stay here and sleep in the terrawoods just for once?’
‘We always sleep in the ashaels.’
‘Yes, but we didn’t leave the Bough till moonrise this time. It’s too far to the ashaels and my legs ache. Please, Kira?’
Kira straightened, flicking back her plait. ‘Stay if you want, but I’m going on.’
Tresen jumped to his feet. ‘Don’t be a fool! It’s not safe to travel alone.’
‘Not safe, not safe?’ she mimicked. ‘What’s there to harm me? You’ve been spending too much time with Commander Sarkash. It’s his task, not yours, to make shadows into monsters to give Protectors something to chase. Tell me what’s dangerous in Allogrenia. The withysnake’s deadly to the littermouse, but I’m no littermouse; the barkspider’s painful certainly, but nothing more. Wolves don’t come within the Sentinels and heart-rotted trees don’t grow where I go. So what else is there, oh mighty Protector Tresen?’
‘There’s ignorance and arrogance,’ snapped Tresen. ‘Both can be fatal.’
‘Of all the big-headed . . .’ started Kira, turning on him.
‘Don’t!’ cried Kandor, leaping between them. ‘Don’t argue, please! This was supposed to be a happy trip, not like home, not like the Bough!’
There was an uncomfortable silence. Kira took a deep breath, struggling with her disappointment. ‘I’m sorry, Kandor. I suppose we can spend the night here if you’re tired.’
‘This tree looks good,’ said Tresen briskly, patting the trunk of a nearby terrawood, ‘but we’ll need a volunteer to see if there’s enough room for all of us.’
‘I’ll go,’ said Kandor, with a sudden burst of energy.
Tresen gave Kandor a leg-up, for terrawoods set their branches some distance off the ground and their knobbed trunks provided few footholds. Kandor scrambled into the canopy, making the boughs shake and creak, and its leaves spill down like snow. Kira kept her face skyward, avoiding Tresen’s eyes.
‘Commander Sarkash said that the Northerners used to call these “sanctuary trees”,’ said Tresen.
‘Yes.’
‘You knew that?’ asked Tresen.
‘There are Writings stored beyond the training rooms that speak of it.’
‘I didn’t know you were allowed that far,’ said Tresen. ‘They’re known to the Protectors, of course, but I thought they’d be too mouldy to read.’
‘They’re readable.’
‘It’s strange that they’re not more safely stored,’ said Tresen. ‘What do they speak of apart from sanctuary trees?’
‘Herbal lists, fighting in the north, the alwaysgreens . . .’
The branches rattled and Kandor’s face appeared through the foliage. ‘It’s wonderful,’ he said excitedly. ‘There are three great branches quite close together, and it even feels warm in here once you go up a little. You’ll love it, Kira.’
*
It was indeed warm in the foliage and they fixed their slings and clambered into them. They were the same type of slings as those used by Kasheron, with straps at the head and foot to secure them to branches and an envelope of material sewn into the bottom for the sleeper to crawl into. Commander Sarkash said that the pocket was for safety, so that even in a high wind, the sleeper couldn’t fall out, but Tresen thought it unlikely. The sides of the sling were high, an
d the body weight of the sleeper made them higher still. The pocket was more likely for warmth.
There was only room for two slings side by side, so they fixed the third a little higher. Kandor climbed into this one and in no time his sling stopped jiggling. Kira lay for a long time staring at the leaves above her face, her roiling thoughts keeping her wakeful.
‘We were right to stop,’ she said finally. ‘You were right.’
Tresen reached over and took her hand. ‘Are things so awful in the Bough?’
Kira’s throat tightened, making speech difficult. When she thought of the Bough, all she could see was its confining walls and her father’s cold, measuring eyes.
‘I’m just tired,’ she muttered.
Tresen’s hand squeezed hers and, with a final pat, withdrew. ‘Sleep then,’ he said gently.
But, despite her weariness, Kira couldn’t sleep. The forest seemed to have come alive again, with hanaweys sweeping through the canopy and skinks and leaf lizards scuttling along the branches above her head. As a child she’d lain deep in the forest and listened to the whisper of leaves, finding their voices deeply comforting. But now Kira tossed this way and that, until finally, in an attempt to distract herself, she began to list the foods that could be gathered in the octad. When she’d exhausted those, she started on the herbs, and was about midway through them when she felt sleep steal over her.
*
Kira woke with a start. It seemed only a moment ago she’d been mulling over herbal lists, but the air was cooler now and the leaves above her were rimmed with dew. Why had she woken? Her eyes searched the branches for owls, but they were empty. Then she heard voices; Protectors, no doubt. They came closer and their words grew more distinct. She froze. The language wasn’t Tremen or Onespeak. The blood roared in her ears. It was a language she’d never heard before!
There were strangers in Allogrenia! But no, it was impossible! Then the speakers stopped directly below. Kira could scarcely draw breath, terrified Kandor would wake and call out, or that some demon’s face would appear through the leaves.
