Oath Breaker (6 page)

"Help me!"
pleaded the man. "They--they--" "Who?" said Torak. "The Deep Forest!" Blood sprayed Torak's face as the man brandished his stump.
"They cut off my hand!"
"You'd be mad to go in there," snarled the man as Renn finished binding his stump. He'd stopped shaking, but whenever an ember cracked, he cringed.

He said his name was Gaup of the Salmon Clan. His parka and leggings were muddy fish-skin lined with squirrel fur, and one cheek bore the sinuous tattoo of his clan. Around his neck he wore a band of sweat-blackened salmon-skin, and small fish bones were braided into his fair hair, reminding Torak of Bale.

"And it was Deep Forest people who did this?" said Fin-Kedinn. He sat with his back against a rock, haggard, breathing through clenched teeth. "They swore that if they saw me again, it'd be my head."
"But they made sure you survived," said Renn. "They
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seared the wound with hot stone so that you wouldn't bleed to death."
"So I should thank them?" retorted Gaup.
"How about thanking Renn for sewing up your stump?" said Torak.

Gaup glared. He hadn't thanked Torak, either, for helping him to the shelter and giving him food and water. And Torak hadn't missed the smear of ash on the heel of his boot.

Out loud, Torak said, "When you were in the Deep Forest, did you see a man in a dugout? A big man, very strong."
"What do I care about that?" snapped Gaup. "I was looking for my child! Four summers old, and they took her!"
Torak glanced at Renn. She'd had the same thought. Soul-Eaters took children as hosts for demons. To make tokoroths.

Fin-Kedinn shifted position. Torak could see that his thoughts were racing. "To cut off a hand," he said, "that's a punishment from the bad times after the Great Wave. The clans forbade it long ago. Who did this to you?"

"The Auroch Clan."
"What?" The
Raven Leader was incredulous.
"I thought they were going to help me," said Gaup. "They gave me food. Told me to rest by their fire. Then they said I was in league with the Forest Horses. Accused 71
me
of stealing one of
their
children."
More stolen children, thought Torak. Thiazzi's flight to the Deep Forest seemed to be turning into something else.

"They said the Forest Horses started it," Gaup went on. "The Forest Horses planted a curse stick, and claimed the land between the Blackwater and the Windriver as their range. The Aurochs burned the curse stick. Then the Forest Horse Mage died of a sickness, and the new Mage found a dart in the corpse. Now all the clans have taken sides. Everyone has to wear a headband: green for Auroch and Lynx, brown for Forest Horse and Bat." He peered suspiciously at Torak's buckskin headband.

"When you were with the Aurochs," said Torak, "was there a big man among them?"

 

"Why do you keep asking?" said Gaup. Awkwardly, he crawled toward the doorway. "I've wasted enough time. I'm going to fetch my clan. We'll
make
them give her back!"

"Gaup, wait," commanded Fin-Kedinn. "We'll go together. You and me."
Renn and Torak stared at him. So did Gaup.
"We'll find your clan," said the Raven Leader, "and we'll find mine. We'll get your daughter back--without shedding more blood."
"How?" demanded Gaup. "They won't listen, they're not
like
us!"
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"Gaup," Fin-Kedinn said firmly. "This is what we will do."
Gaup's shoulders sagged. Suddenly he was just an injured man who needed someone else to make the decisions.

After that, things happened fast. Torak fetched one of the canoes, and he and Renn helped Fin-Kedinn down to the river. Renn made him as comfortable as she could in the canoe, giving him willow bast to chew against fever and hazelnuts to keep up his strength. Torak could see that she was sick with worry.

"How will you manage?" she asked her uncle when Gaup was out of earshot.
"We're heading downriver," said Fin-Kedinn. "The current will take us."
"And if Gaup gets ill and is too weak to paddle?"
"He'll be all right," Torak told her. "You're a better healer than you think."
"You only say that because you want this," she retorted. "Because it leaves you free to hunt Thiazzi."
Torak did not reply. She was right.
Renn threw him a look and marched up to the canoe. "I'm coming with you," she told Fin-Kedinn.
"No," he said. "Torak needs you more." Torak was astonished. "You'd let her come with me? After I nearly got you killed when I didn't see that trap?" 73 "You made a mistake," said Fin-Kedinn. "Don't make another."
"But you can barely walk!" cried Renn. "What if something happens? What if ..." She couldn't bring herself to go on.

"Renn," said Fin-Kedinn. "Can't you see that there's more at stake now than me or you or Torak? Thiazzi isn't merely hiding in the Deep Forest, he's up to something. It's Torak's destiny to stop him. He'll need your help."

He spoke in the tone that brooked no refusal, and Renn didn't argue. But soon afterward she ran off, unable to watch him leave.
"What will you do?" Torak asked his foster father when she'd gone.
"Try to stop a war," said Fin-Kedinn.
War. Torak hardly knew what it meant. "You think it's as bad as that?"

"Don't you? The Deep Forest clans no longer trust the Open, not after the sickness and the demon bear. If the Salmon Clan moves against them, it could be the spark that lights the tinder." A spasm of pain took hold, and he gripped the side of the canoe. "Listen to me, Torak. Find the Red Deer Clan. For your mother's sake, they'll help you. If you can't find them, find the Auroch Mage. His clan acted savagely, but I'm certain he didn't sanction it. I know him. He's a good man."

Gaup returned, impatient to be off, and Torak
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helped him into the canoe.

"Find your mother's clan," repeated Fin-Kedinn. "Till you do, stay hidden. Climb trees if you have to: Deep Forest people are like deer; they seldom look up. And do
not
harm any of the black forest horses. The black ones are sacred. It's forbidden even to touch them." Then he did something he'd never done before. He grasped Torak's hand.

Torak couldn't speak. Fa had done the same thing as he lay dying.
"Torak ..." The blue eyes pierced his. "You seek vengeance. But don't let it take over your spirit."
With his paddle, Gaup pushed the canoe away from the bank, forcing Torak to let go of his foster father's hand.
"Vengeance burns, Torak," said Fin-Kedinn as the river bore him away. "It burns your heart. It makes the pain worse. Don't let that happen to you." Renn had run up the slope toward the shelter. She couldn't bear to watch the Blackwater take her uncle away.
Then she'd changed her mind and raced down again. She was too late. Fin-Kedinn had gone.

In a daze, she went back to the shelter. She shouldered her sleeping-sack, quiver, and bow, and stamped out the fire. She told herself that Gaup would get Fin-Kedinn safely back to the clan. But the truth was that anything

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could happen. Fin-Kedinn might succumb to a fever, or start bleeding inside. Gaup might abandon him. She might never see him again.

When she reached the river, Torak was gone, probably to fetch the other canoe. She couldn't face doing nothing, so she dumped her sleeping-sack and stumbled along the trail that led to the Deep Forest.

She stopped well short of the gaping jaws. The mist had lifted, and the rocks glittered in the sun. To her left, a slope of alders and birch whispered secrets. To her right, the Blackwater snaked slyly past. Twenty paces ahead, the spruce trees of the Deep Forest warded her back. They were taller than their Open Forest sisters, and beneath their mossy arms, shadows shifted ceaselessly.

Torak had once reached the borders of the Deep Forest, but Renn had never been this close. It filled her with dread.

 

The Deep Forest was different. Its trees were more awake, its clans more suspicious; it was said to shelter creatures which had long since vanished elsewhere. And in summer, the World Spirit stalked its valleys as a tall man with the antlers of a stag.

Out of nowhere, Rip and Rek swooped, startling her. Then they were off, disappearing into the sky with caws of alarm.
Renn couldn't see anything wrong, but just in case, she moved off the trail, behind a juniper bush.
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Ac the edge of the Deep Forest, the shadows beneath the spruce trees coalesced--and became a man. Then another. And another.
Renn held her breath.

The hunters emerged without making a sound. Their wovenbark clothes were mottled brown and green, like leaves on the Forest floor; Renn found it hard to tell where men ended and trees began. Each hunter wore a green headband--she couldn't remember whose side that was--and each head was obscured by a fine green net. These hunters had no faces. They were not human.

One raised his hand, his green-stained fingers flickering in a complex signal that meant nothing to Renn. The others headed up the slope to her left. A hunter passed within a few paces of where she crouched. She saw his thin slate axe and his long green bow. She smelled tallow and wood ash, and caught the glint of eyes behind the net. She saw how it sucked in and out where the mouth should be.

 

From the Deep Forest, another faceless hunter emerged, this one carrying a spear. When he was five paces from Renn, he thrust it into the ground with such force that it quivered.

At head height, the spear-shaft bore a bundle of leaves which Renn recognized as poisonous nightshade. From this dangled something dark, the size of a fist. The hunter shook the spear to make sure that it was
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firmly planted, and walked back into the Deep Forest. Renn's gorge rose.
The thing hanging from the spear
was
a fist. It was Gaup's severed hand.
The meaning of the curse stick was clear.
The way is shut.
Renn couldn't take her eyes off the hand. She thought about living the rest of her life like Gaup. Unable ever to use her bow again ... A movement to her right.
Her heart lurched.
Torak was walking up the trail toward her.
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NINE
Sweat slid down Renn's sides. Torak was walking up the trail, looking for her. He hadn't seen the hunters on the slope--the trees blocked his view--and for the same reason, the hunters hadn't seen him. But they would, in about fifteen paces, when he reached that patch of sunlight where a fallen birch had left a gap. Quiet as cloudshadow, the hunters spread across the slope, melting into wind-tossed shade and sun-dappled leaves. Renn dared not shout or make the redstart warning call. She couldn't throw a stone at Torak without standing up.

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Suddenly, he stopped. He'd seen the curse stick.
Swiftly, he stepped off the trail; and kept moving, getting closer to the gap.
Renn had no choice. She had to warn him, despite the risk. She whistled the redstart call.
Torak vanished in the bushes.

She felt rather than saw the hunters turn toward her. Like well-aimed spears, their gaze converged on her hiding-place. How had they known it wasn't a real bird? She'd added the uplift at the end which she and Torak used to distinguish it, but no one else had ever noticed that. They must be unbelievably observant. And suspicious. The hunters started down the slope toward her.

 

Her mind darted in panic. Her body ached to run, but she knew that her only hope was not to move. Keep still, wait till they were almost upon her-
then
run like a hare, jump in the river--and pray to the guardian.

They were spreading out to surround her. She tensed to run.
Another redstart whistle, behind them on the slope. The blank heads turned.
There it was again. It had to be Torak. Renn recognized the uplift at the end. Somehow, he'd found his way behind them.
Holding her breath, she watched them climb toward the sound.
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Again the call came, but this time it was in the reeds by the river. How could that be? Torak couldn't have moved that fast.
Suddenly a shadow swept over her, and Rek alighted in an alder near the curse stick, whistling like a redstart.

The hunters paused. Painted fingers flickered in silent speech. They started down, heading for the tree where the raven perched. They passed within three paces of Renn's juniper without sensing her presence. Their ferocious intent blasted her like heat.

Rek gave another perfect imitation of the redstart signal, and as they drew near, she flew off with a harsh raven laugh.
Silently, the faceless hunters watched her go. Then they headed up the trail and vanished into the Deep
Forest.
"Are you all right?" said Torak, grasping her shoulder.
Renn nodded. She was shaking, clenching her teeth to stop them chattering.
"Let's get out of here," muttered Torak.
They retreated to an alder thicket. "They'll have found our tracks," said Renn when she could trust herself to speak. "They'll know we're here." Torak shook his head. "They'll think we went with Fin-Kedinn." He told her how he'd left the remaining canoe downstream, judging it too conspicuous to take 81
into the Deep Forest, and had hidden their gear and covered their tracks. "How did you know they'd come?" said Renn. "I didn't. Didn't even know they were there till I heard you call. But I got used to covering my tracks when I was outcast. Come on. I'm hungry. Last chance for hot food."

It hadn't occurred to Renn that once they were in the Deep Forest, they'd have to do without fire. Feeling childish and ignorant, she went off to forage. They ought to save their supplies for the days ahead; at least she'd thought of that.

 

When she got back, Torak had woken up a fire. He'd set it under a rock facing away from the Deep Forest, and used only small, dry pieces of beech, without the bark, so that it burned almost without smoke.

 

Renn thought, He learned these things when he was outcast. It made her feel as if she didn't really know him. Food steadied her a bit. She made a stew of chickweed, bittercress, and bramble shoots, with meaty spring mushrooms, and wood pigeon eggs and snails baked in the embers. The snails were particularly delicious, as they'd been feeding on crow garlic.

While they ate, Rip and Rek took their morning bath in the shallows, flicking water over themselves with their wings, and splashing Wolf, who'd returned from hunting 82 and lay on the bank, pretending not to notice. Renn gave Rek a peeled egg and whispered her thanks. Then to Torak, "Who
were
those people?"