Unaware of his son’s turmoil, Hew stared into the forest, his eyes grim. Their attention was fixed on the trees.
Ba Set tossed her head back in defiance. ‘I need to see them,’ she stepped back, gazing up into the still blue sky. No breeze disturbed the calm and the midday sun shone bright and clear. She smiled proudly and stretched out her slender muscled arms, shaking them impatiently as though she was already a creature of flight tethered for too long to the ground.
Hew stopped her with a frown. ‘Be careful, my beloved.’ He murmured, taking her hand. ‘These nobles may not be hunting, but one such as you would be a great prize indeed.’
Ba Set slid her hand away. ‘They’ll never see me,’ she shook her head scornfully. ‘They’ll be like little rats sniffling along the forest paths, too blind to look up.’
‘Perhaps. But we mustn’t be foolish.’
He gestured to Tey. ‘I’ll take the boy along the hidden paths, and we’ll hunt out any broken stick, or sunken footprint that may betray our presence.’
Ba Set nodded. ‘You’ll have a lot to do’, she said. ‘Our son crashed through the forest last night with all the sense of a crazed boar.’ She looked at Tey sharply. ‘Why,’ she asked quietly, ‘were you running through the forest, without heed, as though being hunted by the Lord’s dogs themselves?’
Tey’s eyes faltered then slid away, unable to meet the intensity of his mother’s scrutiny. He swallowed.
Frowning, Ba Set looked at him closer as he fought for the right words that would explain his panicked flight through the trees.
‘I-I-I-’ he began at last, blushing painfully; how could he tell her without sounding like a dimwitted fool? ‘La-La-’ he stammered, his eyes welled stinging with tears of frustration, but still the words refused to come. ‘B-b-b-’
His father’s hand descended on his shoulder. ‘Leave him be, my love,’ Hew said gently. ‘Young ones do strange things for their own peculiar reasons, particularly in the dark.’ He ruffled Tey’s hair. ‘Leave him, we have enough to do.’
Ba Set considered Tey for a long moment, then she nodded and kissed her husband briefly before striding towards the trees without a backward look. Wilting in misery, Tey stared down at his feet. No wonder she thought him such a fool. And he was, he was useless. Agonised, he stamped his foot on the ground.
Movement shuddered at the edge of the clearing and a dark bird rose above the forest canopy, sunlight rippling lazily along the length of her wide black wings. Rooted to the ground, overwhelmed by a sense of wonder that never ever changed, Tey watched as the eagle swept low, her flight feathers deftly caressing the wind, and her shadow blurring along the ground. Banking left, she caught an updraft, spiralling higher into the dazzling brightness of the sun. And with one last flick of her powerful wings, his mother was gone.
Head down, Tey trudged back to the table in the centre of the clearing. Martin had finished cleaning and dressing the venison, and the flame-coloured skin lay draped across the bushes, its pale markings darkening as it dried. There was a metallic hiss as the woodsman hunched over the whetstone and sharpened his long steel blade.
Tey hesitated, not sure what to do next. Near the fire pit, a pile of fresh branches lay stacked neatly on the ground. He brightened; this was one of his favourite chores, helping preserve the prized meat in the fragrant smoke. It took hours of careful work feeding in the green wood to keeping the fire smoulderingly hot, but afterward came the reward of tender, delicious meat. Tey licked his lips, his stomach growling.
‘It won’t happen any time today, boy,’ Martin stopped, the knife glinting in his hand. ‘We’ll have to rid ourselves of the vermin first.’ He grinned, anticipation brightening his coal black eyes.
A bulging leather pouch dropped onto the table in front.
‘When you’ve finished here,’ his father nodded to Martin, ‘go by the river and release all the snares and traps. Be sure they find no signs to betray us. And here,’ Hew handed the woodsman a wrapped parcel of food. ‘Take this, and go quickly.’
✽✽✽
Tey and his father worked their way down along the looped and twisted path. It was a bright day, unseasonably warm and Tey’s neck was soon flecked with a prickly red rash from where his undershirt rubbed damply against his skin. Uncaring, he brushed the irritant aside, and smiled up again at his father.
The sun had dropped lower by the time they came to one of the oldest and most secret parts of the forest. Dark and quiet, the air lay unmoving in the wide-open spaces between the trees, and beech trees towered overhead, their dense leaves blocking out all but the most direct shafts of light.
There was a quick chirrup, and a tiny bird flitted up towards the heights. Its wings blurring as it hunted for grubs - its sharp beak ignoring the delicate whirr of forest beings working on the sun struck branch above. If he squinted, Tey could see them silhouetted against the bright glare - hundreds of tiny, finely limbed forms darting back and forth.
Intent on their task, the faeries lifted their hands to the sun, their nimble fingers working quickly, gathering the brightness before pouring the threads of sparkling light into the leaves.
Grinning, Tey reached into the pocket of his tunic for his flute, a tune already forming to help the tiny beings with their work.
‘Son, what’s keeping you? We’ve got a lot to do.’
Tey spun around startled.
His father was standing a little way ahead of him, his head on his side watching him closely. ‘What are you looking at?’ he asked.
Dropping his flute back into his pocket, Tey hung his head down. ‘Oh ... well,’ he mumbled, tongue-tied and embarrassed. ‘You know…’ Unsure of what else to say, he hesitantly gestured up into the tree.
Following his direction, Hew looked up into the branches, his eyes curious. Tey shifted his weight, not daring to hope if this time his father would at last see for himself the wild spirits that powered the forest.
After a moment, his father ruffled Tey’s hair. ‘Ah son,’ he smiled ruefully, ‘I don't have the eyes for it, you know, no matter how hard I try.’
Tey shrugged, and without another word took Hew’s hand and together they turned back to the path through the woods. His father never saw them; he said he could feel them sometimes, but he never ever saw them for real. Tey didn't understand why, when the beings were all around, all different sizes, living and working in the trees, the rocks, the shadows, everywhere.
They toiled in companionable silence, covering the path with soil from the woods and carefully erasing any footprints that remained. As the afternoon dimmed, they came to a section of ravaged forest, the low growing bushes broken and torn, and the carpet of forest bluebells beneath crushed and strewn haphazardly over the ground.
His eyes widened, and Tey stifled a giggle that threatened to burst out of his throat. It looked really terrible, like the land had been trampled to pieces by some maddened, furious beast.
‘I don’t think there is much we can do here,’ said Hew with a raised eyebrow. ‘Save trying to plump it up like a fine lady’s pillow.’
Tey laughed out loud, then whipped his hand to his mouth in alarm as his eyes darted in panic around the woods.
‘Don’t worry,’ murmured his father with a smile, ‘if any of these nobles were close by, we would’ve heard them by now. See’, he pointed to the trees, ‘even the shy ones are calm.’
Around them, a handful of finches were flitting amongst the shadows, their bright golden crests bobbing in the falling light. Tey swallowed, his eyes dropping guiltily to the carpet of ruined flowers.
‘Father, it was me,’ he confessed quietly. ‘La-last night-’
Taking a deep breath, all the pent up words streamed out at last. ‘…He saw me. I didn't know what to do. I was playing my flute near the crossroads and a noble just went crazy, chasing me, yelling...’ Tey’s voice trailed off, ‘I was so scared … so I ran ... and ran.’
He stared down at his feet, his heart in his throat, wa
iting for an explosion of fury.
His father smiled. ‘Ah, so we have a mad man in the woods. It wouldn’t be the first time, I wager. But no matter, there’s nothing about a scrap of a boy like you that would truly interest one such as that.’ He clapped his hand on Tey’s shoulder with a smile. ‘I promise, the knight last night had too much strong ale, and more than likely thought you were a ghost or some such thing. Do not worry, there is nothing you, or I, can do about that now.’
Tey grinned, feeling quite giddy with relief. Of course his father was right. Strong ale - why didn’t he think of that?
Smiling, he bent to the forest floor where a single bluebell stood unbowed among the wreckage, its violet petals half opened and edged in white. Picking it carefully, Tey placed it in his pocket by his flute. Maybe he’d give it to his mother later, his heart bursting at the thought. She loved that sort of thing.
A thick pop split the air and Gimbal appeared, twirling mindless somersaults high above the ground, broken stalks and bluebell heads raining down around. He’s the idiot, smiled Tey and threw a handful of broken flowers over his capering friend.
Oblivious to the faery’s antics, Hew gestured to the leather satchel open on the ground. He had one of Ba Set’s seed cakes in his hand. ‘Sit down, son,’ he mumbled, ‘you’ve been working hard and you must be ravenous.’
The mottled green faery made a pleading motion of mock starvation, but Tey ignored him. He sat on a clump of grasses and took a bite; the cakes were a little stale, but they were still delicious. The faery vanished and reappeared on the ground, his body curled as if asleep.
As Tey sat chewing he looked up at his father. Leaning against the base of an old gnarled tree, Hew’s hat was down over his eyes and a small smile of contentment played across his face. Tey relaxed; it was all going to turn out fine. Nobles had been in the forest before, of course, and besides they owned it so why shouldn’t the Lord and his family enjoy a day out? Nodding, he took another seed cake from the satchel.
A few crumbs scattered and a nose poked out from beneath a tight-leaved bush, its delicate whiskers twitching. Breaking a smaller piece of seed cake, Tey tossed it lightly onto the ground. The little mouse hesitated, sniffing the air. Tey sat as still as he could, scarcely breathing, willing himself unseen. However, the little creature wasn't fooled; it sniffed once, then twice, before whirling around and scampering into the undergrowth, its tail held high.
Tey smiled. He and his family had to be as careful and as clever as the little mouse, ever vigilant, hiding in the dense woods while the highborn foxes roamed the forest.
SIXTEEN
The light was failing as Tey and his father made their way down the incline into camp. In the centre, parcels of milled wheat and other foodstuffs were sprawled across the surface of the table, but Ba Set was paying them no heed.
With her were two other women. Tey rushed into the clearing with shout of greeting rising on his lips. They were back, he grinned. But his grandmother, Au Set flicked her golden eyes to him and gestured him sharply to be quiet. She was tiny - as small as a child and as light as a bird. She sat unmoving between her two, dark-haired daughters.
Tey skidded to an abrupt stop. Confused, he glanced at his mother and her twin sister, Ash Kit. They stood poised by the table, their bodies trembling and muscles quivering as though they were listening with every cell in their bodies.
Tey gazed at his mother in wonder. Though her bright eyes were open, it seemed as though Ba Set was far away - her senses roaming past the chattering birds and creak of the nearby trees, along the whisper of the wind to the rustling sounds of the great forest beyond.
Beside her, Ash Kit’s eyes were closed, her brow furrowed in concentration. Watching her closely, Tey marvelled at how alike she was to his mother. Being the younger twin, his aunt stood smaller but she shared the same hawk-like intensity and slender muscled frame.
Careful not to disturb them, Tey ducked his head and crept past the table as his grandmother nodded and closed her eyes. Yet a few feet away, a tree root lay barely visible in the afternoon light, its knobbled edge poking up through soil. Tey didn’t have a chance and, with a painful whack, his foot hit the tree root and he stumbled, crying out as the momentum flung him hard into his father’s arms.
At once, Ash Kit’s eyes flew open and her head swivelled towards him. He flinched, grimacing in quick apology, but the piercing tawny stare didn’t change, so intent was she in listening for danger.
‘Come, son,’ whispered Hew. ‘We’d best stay out of their way.’
Miserably, Tey followed his father into the family’s hut.
‘We may be needing this after all,’ Murmured Hew, his eyes narrowing. A sword, lay in a shaft of brightness, still encased in its leather scabbard.
With a single practiced move, Hew unsheathed the weapon and felt the sword’s weight and balance with a straight arm, his eyes peering critically along its length.
Longing gripped him, and Tey almost moaned aloud. His hand quivered, desperate to hold it and try a few good parries and thrusts. Setting his jaw, Tey narrowed his eyes. I, Sir Tey of the Good Forest will challenge any man. And I will vanquish all foes. He leapt into the air, imagining a sharp thrust dealt into the shield of his enemy, and with a fierce cry, Tey grabbed for the sword. Take that!
‘No, it’s not for you son, not yet,’ his father firmly whisked the weapon out of reach. ‘When this trouble is over, perhaps then we’ll practice swordcraft.’ He paused, his eyes stern. ‘Maybe it will help teach you some sense.’
His father stood without another word, his huge frame filling the hut, and then he was gone.
‘Stupid, you’re stupid, stupid.’ Tey hit the bed with his fist, trying to pummel away the hanging words of rebuke. The empty wall space mocked him; teach you some sense…
But… Tey looked up, his mood brightening. His father had said he was going to learn swordcraft. With an excited laugh, Tey jumped to his feet. He was going to learn to dash and parry. The boy made a few quick practice moves at a phantom foe, before opening the door with a grin and dashing outside.
A light wind had risen in the camp. By the table, Ba Set had his father by the arm. Hew was listening and nodding, peering out into the trees. A moment later, he embraced Ba Set and together they left the camp, following the narrow winding path that led into the heart of the forest.
Tey sagged as he watched his parents go. Why didn’t they ask him to go too? He kicked listlessly at a rock in the ground.
‘Hey,’ the voice was light and teasing, ‘Tey, come over here, we need to find you some wings. You trip over so much, you’ll need some just to stay on your feet.’
Startled, he looked up. His aunt Ash Kit was smiling by the table, her long dark hair falling unbound to her waist and her tawny eyes warm with humour. She gestured to the parcels. ‘Come and help us, lazybones, we could use the help of a big strong boy.’
Trudging over to the table where his aunt was sorting out the parcels of food with his grandmother, Tey began to smile in spite of himself. Other than his father, Ash Kit was his most favourite person in the world.
‘Do you really think so?’ He asked, his voice catching with hope. ‘Do you really think I’ll get wings?’
‘Well I don’t see why not.’ She said giving him a quick hug. ‘I wager you’ll end up soaring for miles under the sun, so quick not even I could catch you.’
Tey sparkled. Imagine zooming fast, in real life, freer than the wind racing high through the trees! Raising his face to the air, the boy closed his eyes, remembering dreams of cool air rushing past his cheeks.
‘Shush, daughter,’ Tey’s grandmother murmured quietly, her voice whisper dry. ‘Do not torment the boy. The gift of flight is only handed down through the female line, as you well know. This one,’ she uncurled her ancient hand and patted Tey on the arm, not unkindly, ‘he will never take to the air. Never.’
Tey flinched, his skin burned under the weight and he ached to throw it off, bu
t her hand remained, holding him firmly still.
‘As you say, Mother, but I am not so sure,’ objected Ash Kit, her voice questioning. ‘His talent still remains hidden, and we do not know his strengths - he can see the wild ones after all.’ She paused, gazing at Tey in all seriousness. ‘He could still be one of us, why else would the Goddess not bless my sister with a daughter. Tey is her child. He must be born with her gifts.’
Feeling emboldened and with a surge of love for his aunt, Tey pulled his arm away from his grandmother. He grinned. Of course Ash Kit was right, he would really fly someday in the sky, and not by some other pretend way, soaring and swooping in his dreams.
‘My daughter!’ cried Au Set, her golden eyes blazing with the authority and power of the ancients. ‘Do not get the boy’s hopes up. He has no talent. He will live as his father does, without Heka, without the magic power of Word and Wind. Seeing the spirits of the forest is a small thing, a minor talent that even the uninitiated can possess. It is nothing. I do not presume to know the will of the Goddess, and I do not know the reasons why Ba Set was not blessed with a daughter to carry our birthright. Yet he is her son, for that, and if he is worthy,’ Au Set paused and her bone-like fingers patted Tey’s smooth soft cheek. ‘We will increase his time spent on the earth with the power of the Spice, like his father. But that is all,’ she added with a final pat, looking sadly at Tey. ‘Boy, you have no magic, no talents, and you will never fly.’
His heart plummeted like a struck bird. Tey looked away, seeing nothing, his vision blinded by sharp, bitter tears. He brushed them away. Why should he care anyway? He swallowed. All this talk of flying and magic wasn’t for him. This was women’s talk. And anyway, he thought, clenching his jaw in determination; he’ll grow to be like his father, skilful with the sword, living free in the forest with the wild ones.
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