She skittered to a halt in a cloud of ash. She smelt the meaty breath of humans. She smelt that some bore the skins of bats, others the tails of horses. She was startled, but not frightened. Of all the hunters in the Forest, people never threatened her.
It was Torak who was afraid. He saw his human body lying defenceless on the ground. The hunters saw it too.
He saw them crunch towards him over the brittle earth, their tattooed faces merciless. He saw a Forest Horse hunter prod his body with the butt of his spear. Another kicked him in the ribs. Dimly, he felt the kick.
Now they were crowding round him, kicking, beating. With a jolt, he was back in his body, and pain was opening inside him. He moaned. Something struck his head.
In his last glimmer of awareness, he sent a silent howl to Wolf. Sorry, pack-brother, sorry I couldn’t find you.
Sorry, Renn.
TWENTY-FIVE
Renn was jostled and dragged till she lost track of time. Sometimes they carried her, sometimes they tossed her in a dugout. Once they fed her food and water.
She smelt charred corpses, and knew they’d entered the wasteland. It seemed endless, but at last they were back among hooting owls and rustling leaves.
Suddenly, her wrists were untied, the blindfold torn off, and she stood blinking in a glare of firelight.
It was night. She saw torches staked in a vast ring. She caught the tang of pine, the murmur of a river. The Aurochs and Lynx had pitched their camp to one side of the ring of fire. At its centre rose a scarlet tree. Root, trunk, branch, leaf – all had been painted red with earthblood. An entire living tree was being offered, to draw the World Spirit into the Deep Forest.
Someone pushed her forwards, and she found herself beside a sputtering torch. To her amazement, she saw not only Auroch and Lynx gathered here. On the other side of the ring of fire, there was a second camp and a shadowy throng, bristling with axes and spears. One of them moved closer to the light, and she saw that his beard and lips were stained green, his face tattooed with leaves. His long green hair was braided with horsetails, and his headband was brown. Renn couldn’t believe it. The Forest Horse Clan was camped not an arrowshot away from their deadly enemies.
Among the Forest Horses, others flitted, half-seen in the moonlight. Their mantles were the colour of night; a web of charcoal lines obscured their faces. Renn saw thorny black tattooes on their chins. Bat Clan.
The two sides faced each other across twenty paces of smoky torchlight. Arrows were nocked to bows. Hands flexed on axes and spears.
At the roots of the scarlet tree, Renn made out a huge figure in flowing robes and a glaring mask crested with horsetails. Her skin crawled. Thiazzi.
His long sleeve hid his mutilated hand, but in the other he held a heavy staff incised with burnt spirals. ‘See what I bear,’ he told the clans in the sonorous tones Renn had last heard in the Far North. ‘I, the Forest Horse Mage, bear the speaking-staff of the Auroch Clan.’
The Aurochs stirred in alarm.
‘The Auroch Mage,’ Thiazzi went on, ‘is known for being wise and just. I have talked with him in his prayer shelter. In token of trust, he has given me his staff.’
Doubtful head-shaking among the Aurochs. What trickery was this?
As the Forest Horse Mage approached the Auroch Leader, they aimed a thicket of spears at his chest. Thiazzi never flinched. ‘To honour that trust, I return the staff to his clan.’ With a bow, he proferred it to the Leader.
Even Renn had to acknowledge his bravery. If things went wrong, he would fall transfixed by twenty spears.
With a wary bow, the Auroch Leader took the staff, and Thiazzi stepped back. Slowly, the Aurochs lowered their spears.
Renn watched him return to the scarlet tree, where he addressed both sides.
‘For a moon,’ he told them, ‘I have fasted in the sacred grove, and the Auroch Mage has fasted in his prayer shelter. To both of us the same vision has been sent.’ He raised his arms. ‘We must fight no longer! Auroch. Forest Horse. Lynx. Bat. Red Deer. We must unite!’
Gasps of amazement. Hands fluttered in urgent speech.
What is he after? wondered Renn. She could understand why a Soul-Eater might wish for strife, but why . . .
‘We must unite,’ repeated the Mage, ‘against a greater foe!’
In the hush that followed, one could have heard the wingbeats of a moth. All eyes were on the masked Mage prowling the scarlet tree.
‘Many winters ago,’ he began, ‘the clans turned their backs on the True Way.’
People hung their heads. Some of the Aurochs scratched their faces to reopen their wounds.
‘They were punished,’ said the Mage. ‘Whole clans died out. Roe Deer. Beaver. Oak. Since then, more evils have assailed the people of the Deep Forest. All have been caused by outsiders – by unbelievers who spurn the Way.’
That’s not right, thought Renn.
‘Three winters ago,’ said Thiazzi, his voice swelling like the wind in the pines, ‘an Open Forest trickster duped the Red Deer into sheltering him, then repaid them by creating the demon bear.’
People hissed and shook their fists.
‘Two summers ago, the people of the Open Forest sent the sickness and the tokoroths . . . ‘
No we didn’t, thought Renn, it was the Soul-Eaters!
‘ . . . only our vigilance kept them from the True Forest.’
Axes were shaken in triumph, spears beaten on shields. Rapt, painted faces drank it in.
‘The winter before last, the Ice clans sent hordes of demons to invade us. Last spring, the Otters tried to drown us in a flood.’
This is all lies! Renn shouted in her head.
‘This spring, outsiders stole our children and sent the great fire to destroy us. They failed!’
The shield-rattling intensified.
‘Until now, we have only resisted! But now . . . ’ He swept round the ring of torches, ‘Now we must fight! All evils come from outsiders! They seek to destroy us because we follow the Way, but we of the Deep Forest – the True Forest – we shall unite! We shall rise and crush the Open Forest!’
The roar that burst from every throat shook the pines and hammered the stars.
‘Cast off your headbands!’ bellowed the Mage. ‘Embrace your Deep Forest brothers and unite against the outsiders!’
In a frenzy, headbands were torn from brows. Auroch ran to embrace Bat, Forest Horse touched foreheads with Lynx. Beneath the scarlet tree, the Mage watched from behind his painted mask.
Suddenly, he raised both arms for silence.
People shrank back behind the torches.
‘Never forget,’ said Thiazzi in a voice of subtle menace, ‘that the malice of outsiders is sleepless.’ He paused. ‘I bring proof. I bring you the very menace itself: the Open Forest spy who sought to destroy us by releasing the great fire.’
Three men bore a bundle into the ring and threw it at the feet of the Mage.
Renn made out a struggling figure entangled in a net. She bit back a cry.
The figure groaned.
It was Torak.
TWENTY-SIX
The net was wrenched open, and Torak staggered to his feet. He stood with legs braced, hands tied behind his back. Renn saw blood on his face and bruises on his chest. She saw how he swayed.
Raising his head, he looked straight at her. His eyes widened.
She mouthed his name, but he frowned. Stay out of this.
‘On your knees.’ A Forest Horse woman put her spear to his back and forced him down. She had a mistrustful face tattooed with holly leaves, and green lips tight with anger. A horse’s tail cascaded over her hair, and Renn guessed she was the Leader. She bowed low to her Mage.
Thiazzi accepted the homage in silence, but Renn caught the glint of eyes behind his mask, and thought, he’s enjoying this.
‘Mage,’ said the Leader. ‘Here is the evil one who tried to destroy the True Forest. I’ve seen him before. Two summers ago, we caught him trying to
poison us with the sickness.’
‘I was seeking the cure,’ said Torak. He sounded spent.
‘We should have hung him then,’ said the Leader. ‘We should make good the mistake.’
People rattled spears on shields in violent assent.
Renn threw herself forward, but two hairy paws held her back. ‘Stay silent,’ the old Auroch man hissed in her ear. ‘You’ll only make it worse.’
Releasing her, he took the speaking-staff from his Leader and shambled forwards. ‘But if we kill him,’ he said, ‘we break clan law. Our Mage, the Auroch Mage, wouldn’t sanction this.’
‘To kill an unbeliever is to do good.’ Thiazzi’s powerful voice filled the clearing. ‘And this is no ordinary unbeliever. See the scar on his chest where he tried to conceal his evil nature. See the tattoo on his brow. The mark of the outcast.’
This was too much for Renn. ‘He isn’t outcast any more!’ she cried. ‘Fin-Kedinn took him back, all the clans agreed!’
‘The Deep Forest never agreed,’ replied the painted mask. ‘The Raven Leader sought to change clan law. Clan law cannot be changed.’
‘Except by you,’ said Torak.
‘Be silent!’ hissed the Forest Horse Leader.
Torak raised his head and glared at Thiazzi. ‘You break clan law whenever you want. Don’t you, Thiazzi?’
Puzzled faces turned to the Mage.
‘Slaughtering hunters,’ Torak went on. ‘Murdering my father. My bone kin . . . ’
‘Silence!’ shrilled the Forest Horse Leader. ‘How dare you insult our Mage!’
‘He’s not your Mage,’ Torak flung back as he struggled to his feet. ‘He’s a Soul-Eater.’
Howls of outrage from the crowd, but Thiazzi was triumphant. ‘By his own mouth he condemns himself! Here’s proof of his wickedness!’
‘What’s wrong with you all?’ thundered Torak.
Trees stirred. Torches flickered. Even the Forest Horse Leader stepped back.
With his scarred chest and glittering eyes, Torak looked terrifying – and exactly what Thiazzi had said he was. ‘Have you forgotten how to think?’ he bellowed at the crowd. ‘Doesn’t it seem odd that your new Mage has suddenly grown so war-like? Can’t you see that he’s not one of you?’
Renn had never seen him so angry. His rage was like the freezing white fury of the ice bear, and it frightened her. It frightened the others, too.
Thiazzi’s laugh broke the spell. ‘See how desperate he is! He knows he is condemned!’
Relief shuddered through the crowd. The Mage had restored their certainty.
‘I’ve heard enough for judgement,’ declared Thiazzi. ‘An outcast in the True Forest is an insult to the World Spirit. This is why the Spirit stays away. The outcast must die.’
The wind got up. The red tree sighed.
Renn stood aghast.
Torak stared stonily at Thiazzi.
‘Although,’ said the old man, still holding the staff, ‘if this truce is to stand, the Auroch Mage must also agree.’
That brought his clan to their senses, and they watched to see how the Forest Horse Mage would respond.
Torchlight played on the wooden face. Behind it, Renn sensed the racing thoughts. He wanted Torak dead, and soon. But if he snubbed the Aurochs, he risked a riot and the ruin of his plans.
‘Of course he must agree,’ Thiazzi said between his teeth. ‘Tonight, the Auroch Mage keeps to his prayer shelter, as I shall keep to the sacred grove. Each clan shall paint a tree with earthblood. When both Mages return, and if we are of one mind, the outcast shall die.’
Torak woke to a raging thirst.
Horsehair ropes constricted his wrists and ankles. His bruises throbbed, his head ached. Drifting in and out of wakefulness, he tried to work out where he was. A cramped shelter. Roots against his cheek . . .
He jolted awake. They had laid him beneath the scarlet tree. Soon they would hang him from it.
He couldn’t see how he was going to get out of this. How long did it take to paint a tree red? That was how long he had.
He thought of Renn. She didn’t look as if she’d been beaten, so maybe they would let her live. If only she didn’t try to help him.
And Wolf? He saw Wolf – if he was still alive – seeking him through the charred Forest. Lost, bewildered, howling for his pack-brother. Never getting an answer.
Helpless, Torak slid into a blazing sea of thirst.
Someone was holding his head, pouring water into his mouth.
He coughed and spluttered. His tongue was swollen, he couldn’t swallow. ‘Don’t stop,’ he pleaded. It came out a meaningless mumble.
Birch bark was rough against his lips, and a cool hand supported the back of his head. Water coursed down his throat, soaking into his flesh like a flood drenching sun-cracked earth.
‘How do you feel?’ whispered Renn.
‘Better,’ he croaked. It wasn’t true, but it would be soon. Shutting his eyes, he felt strength stealing into his limbs, while Renn sawed the ropes at his wrists with her beaver-tooth knife. ‘Wolf,’ he muttered.
‘I saw him yesterday. He’s fine.’
‘Thank the Spirit. What about – ’
‘The ravens are fine, too. Try to sit up, we’ve got to be quick.’
‘How did you manage this?’ he asked as she started on his ankles.
‘I didn’t,’ she said tersely. ‘Everyone’s asleep, I don’t know why. It’s as if they’ve taken a sleeping-potion. It can’t last much longer.’
Biting down on the pain, Torak rubbed the feeling back into his wrists, while Renn washed the blood off his face and told him how Thiazzi had declared a truce among the clans. ‘He must’ve tricked the Auroch Mage, and now he’s got them all in his power.’ She paused. ‘Torak, this is much bigger than we thought. He’s turning them against the Open Forest.’
He was trying to take that in when they heard a noise outside. A sleepy murmur, horrifyingly close. A rustle of wovenbark that subsided in a snore.
When all was quiet again, Torak breathed out. ‘Why didn’t they tie you up too?’
Renn strapped her knife to her calf and yanked her legging over it. ‘They’re scared of me . . . Because I’m a Mage.’
He met her eyes in the red darkness. Her face was sternly beautiful, and a shiver ran down his spine.
Then she was his friend again, reaching behind her and thrusting a pair of buckskin boots at him. ‘I stole them from a Lynx. They’d better fit.’
As he pulled them on, she peered from the shelter. ‘Can you walk?’
‘I’ll have to.’
The moon had set and the torches had burned out; both camps were dark and still. Around the shelter, four hunters sprawled asleep beside their weapons. Their breathing was so faint that at first Torak thought they were dead. He grabbed a bow and a quiver, jammed an axe in his belt.
Crossing the open ground to the torches seemed to take for ever. His head throbbed. Pain flared in his bruised limbs at every step. Renn vanished into the shadows, and he thought he’d lost her. She reappeared with her bow and a quiver, and pressed something into his hands. It was his knife.
‘How did you – ’
‘I told you, they’re all asleep!’
At last they were past the Auroch camp, huddled behind a clump of junipers. Renn leaned close, her hair tickling his cheek. ‘They brought me here blindfold, I don’t know where we are. Do you?’
He nodded. ‘We came in dugouts. The Blackwater’s about twenty paces over there. We’ll take a boat and head upriver. Then we leave the boat and cross into the next valley, that’s the valley of the horses. From there it’s straight to the sacred grove.’
She frowned. ‘Let’s get to the boats.’
They reached the river without mishap, and found a line of dugouts drawn up on the bank. Quietly, they pushed the end boat into the shallows, and Torak climbed in. The pain of his bruises was gone, numbed by the thrill of the chase. ‘The current’s not strong,’ he said so
ftly. ‘If we paddle hard, we might even overtake him.’
Renn stood in the shallows with her boots strung around her neck, but made no move to get in. ‘Torak. Turn the boat around.’
‘What?’ he said impatiently.
‘We can’t go after Thiazzi. Not now.’
He stared at her.
‘If you killed him now,’ she whispered, ‘you’d be confirming every lie he’s told them about the Open Forest.’
‘But – Renn. What are you saying?’
‘We have to go back to the Open Forest. Find Fin-Kedinn. Warn the clans what’s happening.’
‘You can’t mean this.’
Wading closer, she gripped the dugout with both hands. ‘Torak, I’ve seen these people! They do everything he says. Slashing their faces, cutting off hands. They will attack the Open Forest!’
He began to be angry. ‘I swore an oath, Renn. I swore to avenge my kinsman.’
‘This is bigger than vengeance. Can’t you see? If Thiazzi dies, they’ll think it’s an Open Forest plot.’
‘But he’s not their Mage! Once he’s dead, they’ll see that!’
‘They won’t care! Torak, think! If you killed him, they’d see it as proof of what he said. They’d attack. The Open Forest would fight back. There’d be no stopping it!’
He wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her. ‘You said you’d help me. Are you deserting me now?’
She flinched as if he’d struck her. ‘If you go after Thiazzi, I’ll have to. Someone has to warn the Open Forest.’ In her voice he heard an echo of Fin-Kedinn: the same flinty resolve to do what was right, no matter what the cost.
‘Renn,’ he said. ‘I cannot turn around now. I need you to come with me. Do this for me.’
‘Torak – I can’t!’
He looked at her standing there with the black water swirling round her calves. ‘Then that’s how it is,’ he said. Digging in his paddle, he started upriver.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Renn stood in the freezing shallows, staring blankly into the darkness.
She couldn’t believe Torak was really gone. It was a mistake. It had to be. Any moment now and he’d reappear and say sorry. ‘You’re right. We’ve got to get back to the Open Forest.’ He wouldn’t just leave her.
Chronicles of Ancient Darkness Page 93