Stone Spring (52 page)

Shade nodded approvingly. That was the kind of response he’d always encouraged in her. ‘I think it’s obvious what you have to do. This little one can’t go back to the other Leafies. Can it, Bark?’

The burly man shook his head. ‘She’s spoiled it, and it spoils the others. Sorry, child.’

Acorn’s eyes were round. ‘Father, why’s he sorry?’

‘Because you’re going to have to get rid of it.’

Her hand flew to her mouth. ‘No! I can’t . . . How can I kill him?’

‘You have your knife.’ A flint blade with a handle wrapped in thread and resin to protect her small fingers, but as sharp as any Shade owned himself. ‘Don’t let it out of the net. Just take it off somewhere. You’ve killed before.’ Hare, a small calf; any Pretani child had to become used to killing. ‘Do it quickly and it won’t suffer.’

‘I can’t.’

‘You must,’ Knot said. He looked up bravely at Shade. ‘I’ll help her carry it away. Am I allowed to do that? She’ll have to kill it herself, of course.’

He was so young himself, but he seemed to care for Acorn. His presence would be a comfort for the girl. ‘Get it done. Then come straight back to the clearing. All right?’

‘Yes,’ both Acorn and Knot mumbled.

‘Come on,’ Shade said to Resin and Bark. ‘What a start to the day.’ He strode off, leading the others back towards the camp. He deliberately didn’t look back at his daughter.

78

The Leafy child in the sack was heavy, but it wasn’t difficult for Acorn and Knot to drag him across the ridge.

The Leafy didn’t fight or struggle. He seemed to be reassured by Acorn’s presence. He obviously had no idea what he was being led to. It was all very sad, Knot thought.

Which made him clear in his own mind about what he was going to do.

They reached a small stand of windblown trees. They laid the child down on the leaf-strewn ground at the foot of a twisted oak, and looked at each other, panting. Acorn had been in control in front of her father, but she was angry now. ‘Why are you still here? Come to make sure I do what my father told me?’

That stung him. ‘No. Nothing like that. Have you got your knife?’

She dug it out from under her tunic. It was slung on her waist from a leather belt. ‘I always have to carry it, my father says.’

‘Can I see?’

She handed it over. He hefted it, considering. It was the best-made knife he’d ever handled. Then he crouched down and began to cut at the net, slicing through one braid after another.

Acorn was shocked. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Solving the problem.’ He dug out his own knife, and passed hers back. ‘Here. Help me. Cut over there. The sooner we can get him out of here the better.’

She stared for one heartbeat, then dropped to her knees and began to saw at the net.

Between them they soon had it cut open, and they pulled it back from the Leafy Boy. The child sat up and stared at them both. Knot made a false lunge. ‘Go, go!’

The child quailed. For an instant Knot thought he might run to Acorn again. But some deeper instinct cut in, and he ran off in a blur of motion, scampering up the nearest tree like a squirrel.

Acorn laughed. Then she held her cheeks in dismay. ‘What have we done? If they find out—’

‘They won’t.’

‘But what if he goes back to find the other Leafies? When he turns up alive back in the clearing—’

‘He’d have to cross open ground to get back, and a Leafy wouldn’t do that.’ Then he held his breath, hoping against hope that she wouldn’t ask any more questions. He had no idea how this little boy was going to survive, alone. Let her work that out for herself, later; she was a year younger than he was. For now this was all he could do for the child, and for her.

She smiled, and his heart thumped. ‘Thanks—’

A dead leaf crackled.

Obeying an ancient instinct he put his hand over her mouth, his finger to his lips.

Then, together, they turned, and crept silently through the little copse towards the source of the noise. It surely wasn’t anything dangerous, he told himself, his heart hammering. A deer, maybe. A young calf. Maybe a squirrel making an early start on its nut cache.

But now he heard voices, male tones murmuring. People. He saw the horror on Acorn’s face. Had they been followed? Was their defiance of Shade already betrayed?

He hushed Acorn again and crept further forward alone, deeper into the copse, letting his eyes adjust to the leafy shade. And there, beyond a screen of trees, he saw two men. One he recognised: it was the Eel-folk slave, True, the clever one who helped the Pretani men organise the others. The other he didn’t recognise. It was a younger man with a strange tattoo on his bare belly, three circles around the navel cut through by a vertical line. They were talking urgently, but very quietly.

They were hiding, keeping some secret, just as he and Acorn were.

He waited, scarcely breathing, until they were done. At last they nodded to each other, broke away, and left the copse, True heading back towards the Pretani’s clearing.

Knot came back to Acorn. She was sitting on the ground near the ruin of the net, legs folded under her. He described what he’d seen.

She frowned, a crease appearing in the perfect skin between her eyes. ‘Something’s wrong,’ she said. ‘True’s a slave. He shouldn’t be sneaking around like that.’

Knot said, ‘We can’t tell anyone.’

‘We have to—’

‘We can’t! If we do they will come here to check, and they’ll find no Leafy Boy bones. They’ll know we lied!’ And while Acorn might be spared by her father, he knew he would be punished severely.

‘But True and the man—’

‘Maybe it was nothing,’ he said. ‘What can one slave do to harm your father and all his hunters?’ He covered her hands with his. ‘Let’s forget we ever saw this. Now, come and help me trap a hare or something. We should spill some blood on ourselves to make it look real.’

Subdued, barely talking, they made their way out of the little copse and back towards the clearing.

79

‘Talk to me,’ Dolphin snapped.

Wise just looked at her.

Barefoot, he walked in the wet sand close to the sea’s shallow, lapping edge. He had a basket hung around his neck full of the cockles he’d been picking from the exposed rocks. His two wives and four children combed the beach with him, the children laden with their own small baskets. Gulls wheeled, competing for the food, but they scattered when the children clapped their hands.

It was noon, and still summer, only a couple of months after the solstice, an oppressive, colourless time of year, and though the sun was obscured by a lid of cloud the heat by the sea was intense.

One of the children splashed another, accidentally, and they giggled together, just like kids playing on a beach. But one of the women muttered a soft word in the tongue of the Eel folk, and they glanced uneasily at Dolphin, and fell silent.

Still Wise did not reply.

Dolphin snapped again, ‘Talk to me, or may the little mother of the sea drown you in her wrath.’

He glanced at his family. ‘Scaring children,’ he said in his softly accented traders’ tongue. ‘Walk.’ Still bending to pick cockles off the rocks, he turned and walked slowly away from the children.

She fumed, but followed. ‘You wouldn’t talk to a Pretani that way, would you?’

‘You are not Pretani,’ he said simply. ‘Will talk take long?’

‘What?’

He gestured at the rocks. ‘Pretani don’t feed us meat any more. Too many of us. We have fruits of sea. But we are hungry - we work hard - children growing. Shellfish not—’ He tapped his belly, running out of words. ‘They leave you hungry. We must gather many, many shells. Soon the tide will turn, rocks covered—’ ‘We know.’

He shifted the pack on his shoulder; she saw the leather strap was rubbing his bare skin raw. ‘Know what?’

‘What you intend.’ She glanced over her shoulder at his family, who continued to work in silence. ‘In Pretani there is a man called True. One of the Eel folk, like you. Perhaps you know him.’

‘Many called True.’

‘Just listen. The Pretani have a plan. They will come here in numbers, and attack us. This will be soon. And the Eel folk will be involved.’ She stepped forward, hand on hips, glaring at him, summoning all the authority she could muster. ‘You will rise up, all over Etxelur, and attack us. And when we turn to face you, the Pretani will fall on us like wolves on a lame calf. This is what True says has been planned. He says every adult of the Eel folk is prepared for it.’

‘How do you know?’

‘We take stone and slaves from the Pretani, in return for flints. You know this. To make the trade the Pretani come here, and some of us go to their settlements in the forest. One day True spoke to a man from Etxelur. He told him about the Pretani’s plan.’

‘Why would this True do that? Never been here.’

‘He knows nothing of Etxelur, and cares nothing. He only knows that Etxelur is an enemy of the Pretani. And he asked our trader for favours.’

‘What favours?’

‘His freedom, and his family’s, when the Pretani are beaten.’

Wise studied her. His face was weather-beaten, burned; many of the Eel folk, used to the milder sun of their inland lakes, had broiled in the intense light of the coast, especially the children. The darkening and tightening of Wise’s skin gave him an alien, hardened look. ‘Why tell me?’

‘Ana is having your leaders brought to her. We’re trying to do this out of sight of the Pretani. We don’t want them to know what we know. Soon they will come for you. But I came first.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I want to understand.’ Deeply hurt, betrayed, she clung to her anger. ‘You aren’t denying it, are you?’

He sighed. ‘Why deny?’

‘Even though the Pretani beat your children and rape your women, you are prepared to work for them - to kill us to further their goals?’

He shrugged. ‘No choice. And besides, when the attack comes, great chaos. Perhaps we slip away.’

‘But you would turn on us? What have we ever done to you? We don’t beat you.’

‘No. You let Pretani do that.’

‘Would you have harmed me?’ She grabbed his forearm; covered with dense grey hair, it was slick with sweat and sea spray. ‘Look at me, Wise. Would you have hurt me?’

‘If I had to.’

She stepped back, shocked. ‘But I cared for you - your family. I brought you medicine for your sick child.’

‘I depend on your kindness for life of child.’ He studied her, staring at her face. ‘Understand, little girl? Don’t want your power over me, for good or ill.’ She was horrified to see something like pity in his eyes.

She turned away and ran back up the beach.

80

At the end of the day, with the setting sun striping long shadows along the Etxelur beaches, Ana called her closest people to the holy middens. As Jurgi waited with her they arrived in ones and twos, Novu, Ice Dreamer, Arga, Kirike. They had to wait for Dolphin.

Jurgi thought he had never known Ana so agitated, so obviously distressed. She paced by the middens and peered out to sea, and at the great new dykes reaching out towards the drowned Mothers’ Door - huge structures yet unfinished, with heaps of stone and sand at their abutments.

Arga stood by Jurgi. ‘She’s very worried.’

‘She needs to be calm,’ Jurgi said. ‘To think clearly.’

‘You’re the priest. It’s your job to soothe her, isn’t it?’

‘She’s a troubled spirit,’ he said grimly. ‘But . . . I saw her grow up. She respected me, then. Now she’s the woman who took me from my partner, and she is the mother of my unborn child, and she is the beating heart of the new Etxelur. How am I supposed to deal with such a being?’

Dolphin arrived, at last. And she had brought a slave with her, one of the Eel folk. A few years older than Dolphin, he was muscular but slim to the point of scrawny. His wrap of faded cloth was filthy and torn, and he stank of the sea, at whose edge he had probably been working most of the day. As the group stared, he simply stood before them, showing no sign of fear. He was oddly impressive.

Dolphin said the slave’s name was Wise. Jurgi had never learned any of the slaves’ names. Not knowing their names made it easier for him to bear their presence.

Novu turned on Dolphin. ‘I don’t care what his name is. Why have you brought him here? He and his kind mean to kill us all.’ With age he had become a small, angry man, plump in body and face, his dark brown eyes red-rimmed with anger. He was eaten up by his obsessions, scarred by a long-gone childhood. Jurgi believed he still loved Novu, but he had never seen him look more unappealing.

Dolphin spoke up for herself, young, angry, beautiful in her mother’s striking way with her strong nose and dark hair. ‘Why do you think I brought him? Because the Eel folk are at the centre of all this. If we don’t hear what they have to say we’re fools.’

Jurgi spoke up hastily. ‘She’s right. Let’s not bicker. We’ve got some hard thinking to do, some tough decisions to make. For a start I’ve been trying to make sure the Pretani in Etxelur don’t know that we know about their plan.’

Ice Dreamer asked, ‘And how are you doing that?’

‘Their big men are all in the dreamers’ house, working their way through my store of poppies.’

Dreamer laughed throatily.

Ana spoke, for the first time. ‘And what about this plan of theirs?’ She glanced at Jurgi, an unusual uncertainty showing on her small, solemn face. ‘Do we believe all we’ve been told?’

‘I think we must,’ Jurgi said. ‘There’s nothing for this man True to gain by lying. He deliberately sought out our trader to tell him about it. And the Eel folk here have admitted it.’ He glanced uneasily at Wise. ‘Though some of them had to be pressed.’

‘Maybe it’s all a bluff,’ Kirike said. ‘Maybe the Eel folk have been told to spin us this tale to frighten us.’

Jurgi hadn’t thought of that, and he considered. ‘I doubt it. We had no idea the Pretani were planning to fall on us at all. They wouldn’t give away the advantage of surprise just for the sake of stirring up a bit of confusion.’

‘Besides,’ Dreamer said, ‘as you should know, Kirike, you’ve got their blood in your veins, the Pretani aren’t the subtlest of folk. This scheme of planting warriors among us is pretty smart, but is probably the limit of their ingenuity. More likely, they just weren’t clever enough to imagine that one of their slaves would betray them.’