Melforger (The Melforger Chronicles)

by David Lundgren

  “Tarvil, we’ve decided to send a party off when Orikon gets back.” She lifted a finger fiercely as she spoke, waving it around like a baton. “We must confront Brinchley directly and get to the bottom of this Festival nonsense.”

  “Ma’am, will we get the Festival next year, at least?” asked Cisco.

  “Of course.”

  Tarvil added, “Assuming no permanent damage has been done to our relationship with Miern. A pity Jan hasn’t able to tell us more about what’s been happening in Three Ways before now.”

  “Yes, that would certainly give us useful information, but we can’t wait. It may be that he doesn’t recover,” said Leiana.

  The Foreman, in a bid to change the topic, looked down at Cisco and said, “I understand from your father that you’ve chosen Jaysonbury for your sojourn?”

  “News travels fast, sir,” replied Cisco with a quick smile. “I have a cousin who lives in North Hordham and they’re going to help me out.”

  Leiana nodded approvingly. “That sounds very good, Cisco. An interesting area with some lovely music. Their lutists, in particular, are known to be superb.”

  “Yeah, that’s exactly why he’s going Mom, for the lutists,” mumbled Raf sarcastically.

  “At least he is using his sojourn as a learning opportunity and not as a way to annoy people.”

  “Mom, just leav-”

  “- and, he has a decent chance of actually making it back alive,” she snapped.

  “Leiana, dear, perh-”

  “Don’t tell me to calm down, Tarvil! I’ll not have my son stroll off into danger. He will find no music there. He will find no culture there. He -” She spun around to stare as one of the dholaki suddenly began drumming a loud, energetic rhythm. “I do wish they’d be a little quieter,” she said through clenched teeth.

  “Well, at least you’re getting some value for the money,” Raf muttered.

  Her face tightened and a livid red bloomed on her cheeks. “How dare you, Raf…”

  Tarvil, eyebrows furrowed. “What’s this?”

  “In case you didn’t know, mom paid those drummers already for the Festival. Seems a bit odd not to enjoy them,” said Raf.

  “Paid?” said Tarvil.

  The Foreman frowned. “I didn’t authorize that, Leiana. Whatever possessed you to use the village coffers for this? I’m sure we could have attracted many good musicians without having to pay.”

  Leiana straightened her stole. “I didn’t use the village coffers, Foreman. I used our own.” Tarvil tilted his head at her questioningly. “I had to. Real iMahli dholaki for the first time in the Aeril Forest? Ever! People would’ve come from everywhere to see it!”

  “Leiana, I really wouldn’t have allowed you t-”

  “It wasn’t your call to make, Foreman, it was mine. You put me in charge of organizing the Festival, and this is what I saw fit to do. I would have covered my costs on the first day – in the first hour - if Brinchley and Allium hadn’t played foul!”

  Raf looked down at the ground sullenly, a wave of guilt stealing over him. He hadn’t really meant to do it. It had just slipped out. A shadow cut across his feet and he saw a group of figures walk up to stand behind Leiana.

  “Excuse me, Foreman?”

  Leiana turned around, saw that it was Jover, and snapped, “No! Not now, Jover! We don’t have time to be talking about smells in the woods. The Foreman has a million more important things to sort out right now. Honestly!”

  The old farmer stammered under her furious gaze, folding and unfolding his flat cap he held at his chest. Leiana turned her back on him again but Jover urged, “But, Cou-”

  “What do you want?” Her voice rose as she put her hands on her hips. “Has the broccoli turned orange? Have the bees stopped buzzing? Can you not just speak to Vince about whatever it is this time? Well?”

  “Ma’am, Vince is dead.”

  20. CHALKINGS

  “Dead?”

  Jover nodded and the Foreman stepped forward to take hold of his shoulders as the old man’s eyes welled with tears.

  “Foreman,” said Farley from behind, “we were searching for the rotten smell, and we found a place where it was very strong. Councilman Ghitral was trying to find what it was, but the ground broke under him - it just opened up, and he fell through.”

  “Broke under him?” Leiana’s voice was muffled as she clamped her hands tightly over her mouth.

  “Yes, Councilwoman.”

  “What could’ve happened?”

  “That rotten smell, ma’am, is the trees. The branches underneath were all rotten, that’s what the smell was.”

  “Underneath us?” hissed Nathyn.

  “Raf,” said the Foreman quietly. “The chimes. Now.”

  . . . . . . .

  Raf didn’t let up thumping the beater against the huge wooden gong until he heard a faint shout over the booming peals.

  “Oyyy!” yelled Cisco. “Quit! Everybody’s there now.”

  Raf climbed down off the platform, removing the thick woolen ear muffs from his head. “The farmers as well?”

  “Raf, I think there are people here from North Hordham! Trust me, you got everyone’s attention. Let’s just go, I want to find out what’s going on.”

  They jogged over to the commons which was absolutely heaving with people standing shivering in the drizzle. The Foreman was standing silently next to a pale-faced Leiana while the rest of the Council spoke quietly amongst themselves to one side. Cisco and Raf made their way up through the crowd as the Foreman stood up and stared out at the faces.

  “There has been a terrible incident. Vince Ghitral tragically died this morning.“ A wave of startled disbelief erupted from the gathered people and the Foreman held up his hands. “We are still trying to find out how it happened, but it seems there may be a strange disease affecting some of the trees. It’s very important that we work quickly to find out what the cause is and find a solution. Our homes – indeed, our very lives – may depend on it.” His booming voice echoed around the commons and every face tilted to hear what he was saying. “There have been some reports recently of a strong rotten smell around the Forest. I need to know if anyone else here has come across it around Eirdale.”

  He watched the crowd as there was a quiet humming of people talking amongst themselves. A hand was raised in the middle and the Foreman nodded at him questioningly.

  “I live up on the north-west side, Foreman and I’ve noticed something foul recently when I’ve been hunting maybe a mile or so out.”

  “The north-west side you say?” asked the Foreman. “That’s where Vince died. Anyone else?” Another hand tentatively went up. “Damen? You’re over on the Northwest side as well, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, sir, but I didn’t smell it there, I smelt it on my way to my cousin’s home south-west of here in Turner’s Grove. Something really nasty. Could never find what it was, though.”

  The Foreman looked at him and exhaled through pursed lips.

  Then Sikinos suddenly added, “Now that you mention it, Foreman, if we’re talking about something that really reeks, a few of the boys were talking to me about an odd smell on the east farms the other day. They just thought it was some dead animal.”

  The Foreman lifted his arms once more. “Let’s do this, then. How many of you have smelt something rotten in the Forest recently, put up your hands.” A scattering of hands lifted in the crowd. “Right,” he said, “you lot, come here. The rest of you go home. I would seriously suggest that nobody moves far from the village until further notice.”

  With that he jumped down to the ground. “Raf, go to the Council rooms and bring me the map on the table and a piece of chalk,” ordered the Foreman.

  Raf came back shortly with the map of Eirdale. The Foreman laid it out carefully on a sheltered table and asked the remaining people to plot out where they had smelt the decay with chalk. After the last person had marked it, the Foreman straightened out the map with four mugs and stood back.


  Eirdale village was in the middle, a neat circular dwelling, and the chalk markings were in small clusters that roughly surrounded the village.

  “This is incredibly bad,” muttered Dr Allid.

  “But, thankfully, no mention of it within the village borders,” commented Dalton. “Or on the main paths, thankfully.”

  “Well, what can we do?” demanded Leiana angrily. “There must be a remedy, surely?” She looked at Dr Allid who shook his head gravely.

  “I’m no tree doctor, Leiana; this is beyond me. Vince was the expert. Nobody knew more than him about the Forest.”

  “So that leaves us standing here on ground that might break open at any moment?”

  “But there are no signs of the rot inside the village, Leiana. What we need to do is speak to an expert. Someone in the Forest must have some knowledge about this sort of thing. We need to send messengers out to all the other villages.“

  “When the ground’s rotting underneath us?” spluttered Nathyn.

  Tarvil felt a tap on his hand and stepped aside to let the scrawny form of Fergus move shyly to stand in front of them.

  “Fergus? We’re having an important conversation here right now,” said Leiana.

  “Um, I thought I should tell you that… that… I -”

  “What, boy? Out with it,” snapped Nathyn.

  Resma knelt down facing the boy. “What’s wrong Fergus? Don’t be afraid to tell us.”

  Fergus swallowed, keeping his face turned down towards the ground. “When I was travelling here with Mr. Wesp, he made a big fire off the path -”

  “In the Forest? You made a fire?” interrupted Leiana furiously. “Surely you must know that’s dangerous, Fergus!“

  Resma hushed her and turned back to Fergus. “Then what happened?”

  “Well, Mrs. Ottery, the fire was going and then the ground broke. There was a really big hole.”

  “It was probably the fire,” said Nathyn. “There’s a reason we have these laws! If only these travelers w-“

  “- no sir, it was definitely something in the wood, sir. Mr. Wesp made me climb down to get his bag and I could see the ground where it broke. It smelled really, really horrible like the Foreman said. And it was green like… like old bread.”

  “He made you climb down into the hole in the ground to get his bag?” asked Tarvil softly.

  “Yes, sir; but, don’t worry Mr. Gency, I’m a good climber. I’ve never fallen, except… I did kind of fall down the hole a bit…” He looked uncomfortably at the ground front of him.

  “Fergus,” said the Foreman, “where did this happen?”

  “Well, you know where all the roads turn into one big one to go to Three Ways?”

  “All the way north near Borilcester?” came the strained voice of Nathyn. ”I just travelled past there!”

  “Foreman, you need to make a call now,” said Tarvil. “We have to warn the other villages if they don’t already know. We must assume the entire Forest is affected and although it’s a risk travelling, we need to work together to find a solution urgently. Someone must know something that can help.”

  “I agree,” the Foreman responded. I’ll call an Overcouncil. We should send pigeons at once.”

  “We don’t have nearly enough, and it’s too slow, too many villages. We need people to get here now, immediately, before things get any worse. It’ll take some people days to get here as it is, and every hour is precious. We must resort to desperate measures.”

  “Then what? What other options?” The Foreman suddenly threw a sharp look at Tarvil. “Do… do you mean what I think you do?” Tarvil nodded firmly.

  “What is this? What are you talking about?” asked Leiana.

  “The Ash-knell.”

  . . . . . . .

  “When our ancestors were chased here by the iMahlis centuries ago, they lived in communities far apart in the Forest and needed to work out a way to call meetings in times of emergency. It had to be something that was quick and effective, so they crafted these Ash trees – four of them – in specific locations through the Aeril Forest.”

  “Crafted?” asked Dalton.

  The Foreman shrugged. “Something like that. Whatever they did, the Ash-knells were built with one purpose in mind.”

  “And what is that?”

  “They’re perfect resonating chambers. Basically, huge bells.”

  “How do they work?” asked Resma.

  “No idea,” replied the Foreman. He looked at Tarvil who shook his head. “Nobody’s used one in generations. But they’re supposed to emit a sound that can be heard throughout the entire Forest.”

  “’Supposed to’? Can you be sure they work? Or that they even exist?” asked Leiana.

  “I have to trust that they work. And as for whether they exist, ours is in the Jacaranda Dale. My father showed it to me many years ago. Every Foreman knows where their nearest one is.”

  “What, south-east? Through this huge patch of decay?” stammered Leiana, tapping a heavily chalked area on the map. “That area is one of the worst!”

  The Foreman rubbed his head. “It’s not too far, and there must be some way to get to it safely.” He looked upwards. “The canopy walkways?”

  “They don’t go far enough, Foreman. Half way at best.”

  “Actually, Foreman,” came the hesitant voice of Jover, “I’ve been expandin’ my canopy farms a little, and with a new technique I’ve come up with, it should be possible t’get pretty close, I reck’n.”

  “New techniques, Jover?”

  “Well, some rope ‘arnesses and pulleys, mostly.“

  “Aren’t you a bit long-in-the-tooth to be swinging around tree-tops these days?” asked Nathyn incredulously.

  “You’ll ‘ave to forgive me, Councilman, when I say ‘me’, I’m actually referrin’ to my apprentice. He’s got it down perfectly.”

  “Who’s this?” asked the Foreman. “Can we get him in here right now?”

  “He’s standin’ right behind you, Foreman.”

  They all turned around to look back at Fergus who had a nervous lopsided grin on his face. He raised a hand and waved it in embarrassment.

  “Is that right, Fergus?” said Tarvil. “I’ve been hearing stories about your antics up there. Do you think it’s possible for us to get to Jacaranda Dale from here? Using the upper canopy?”

  “I don’t know where that is, sir, but I’ve been almost all the way to Hunton Daire up there before.” Jover patted his shoulder as the young boy beamed a grin back at him.

  “Well,” said the Foreman reluctantly, “if this young one can do it, then it’s worth trying. I wonder if it might be safer to go with someone other than me, in c-”

  “I’m sure Raf would be willing to go,” said Leiana.

  Raf clenched his teeth and started to say something in reply when Cisco added, “If he’s going, then I’m going as well, Mrs. Gency!” He wrapped an arm around Raf’s shoulder and grinned at Leiana.

  The Foreman looked at them both dryly. “I suppose that’ll do. But no more. And I think we should leave immediately seeing as the rain’s letting up. It’ll take us a good while to get there and speed is of the essence.”

  He looked at Fergus. “What do we need to take with us, lad?”

  “Nothing, Foreman. All the stuff’s up Nviro. I’ll get it when we’re up there.”

  The Foreman nodded and strode off past the Council.

  “Good luck,” muttered Dr Allid.

  The Foreman turned back to face them as the three boys walked past. “If this works, we will have guests from every corner of the Aeril Forest here, hopefully within days. Get yourselves prepared for an Overcouncil. Leiana, you know what to do.”

  “And the funeral?” asked Tarvil.

  “Do it today.”

  He waved and then turned to follow the boys. Behind them, the Council broke into a farwelayre, only stopping when the group disappeared down the path.

  21. SLIDES

  “He’s qu
icker than I thought he’d be,” said Raf under his breath. The two boys were standing on a small platform, staring up at the muscular frame of the Foreman who was climbing up Nviro above them.

  “Yeah,” agreed Cisco. “He’d probably look even more impressive if he wasn’t next to monkey-boy, though. Look at the little guy go!”

  Above the Foreman, Fergus was using hanging vines to help haul himself up the trunk, swinging and jumping acrobatically towards the canopy.

  “You just wait till he grows up and weighs what we do,” said Cisco. “Come on, let’s get after them.” He took hold of the ladder and hoisted himself up.

  They climbed for another few hundred feet until they were on the exact wooden decking that the boys had been on only a few days before.

  “All right, Fergus,” said the Foreman. “I’d say we have maybe three hours before it gets too dark to climb so we’d better get going.” He stood up and peered towards the south-east Forest. “What do we need for our little expedition?”

  Fergus disappeared up the trunk into a dense clump of leaves. There was some rustling, and a few minutes later, a warning: “Watch out!” A huge coil of vine-rope flopped down, followed by a bulging sack. Fergus sprang down lightly after it and dusted his hands off.

  “That’s it?” asked Raf.

  Fergus nodded enthusiastically and opened up the sack to show them some dark brown ironwood harnesses. Each one was connected firmly by a curved rod to a chunky wooden wheel.

  “Mr. Jover made the wheels. I don’t really need this, but I don’t think you'll be able to cross some of the bits.”

  “I suppose I should really watch my weight a bit more,” said the Foreman blithely. He winked at the boy who grinned back and then took hold of the rope to loop it around his shoulders. “Let’s go.”

  Fergus lead them to a stout walkway which they mounted in single file and followed for a few hundred feet towards some oak Ancients. The wooden slats swayed and moved under their weight and although the thick new ropes they held on to seemed solid, Raf found it disconcerting walking so high above the canopy in the open air.