The Volunteer (The Bone World Trilogy) (8 page)

Slowly, she nodded, wiping the
corners of her eyes. She
did
know him. A poor provider of few tattoos. But he was a tryer, too.
Always doing his best. She must have known that. And when the day had
come to offer himself up for the Tribe, she had seen, everybody had
seen, how smartly he had stepped forward.

She came to him and made him sit,
cradling him in her arms and crying. She never asked him for an
explanation, but offered one instead, "The boy is off gathering.
I was allowed to stay because..."

"I heard," he said.
"They made you marry him. The monster."

She snarled all of a sudden and
he jumped, for he had never, in more than two thousand days together
heard such a noise from her throat. "I didn't let him touch me.
That's why the boy is out gathering and him so young. Aagam went
crying to the Chief with a bruise on each eye. At least that's what I
think happened, because I can't understand a word of his mumbling. He
is weak as a child, too. I punched him here," she patted
Whistlenose's belly. "You wouldn't believe how soft it was! And
he couldn't breathe then and I thought he would die and we would be
Volunteered." She laughed and he felt himself laughing with her.

Then, they were hugging again.
"You're trembling," she said. "You can barely stand,
can you?"

"I'm fine, don't worry. It
might be nice to sit, though. For a heartbeat or two."

"We have food, you know? For
him, I think. He tried to eat some, but he must be sick, because he
spat it out and crouched over for a long time in the corner. I... I
could give you some of it." She knew what she was saying was
wrong. But that didn't matter to Whistlenose. His stomach lurched. He
wanted the flesh the stranger had rejected. Wanted it terribly and
his head turned away from his beloved wife and towards the corner as
though pulled to it by a rope. The food was right there, wrapped in
pounded moss. The shape of it told him it was a joint of Bloodskin.
His little boy's favourite. And now that those beasts had been
destroyed by the Diggers, there would never be any more of it.
Whistlenose's mouth watered for the smoky flavour he knew so well,
for the crispy, fat-rich skin.

"I'm sorry," she said.
"I... I shouldn't have offered." For she knew, as he did,
that he could be of no further use to the family or the Tribe. The
flesh that might keep somebody else alive would only be wasted on
him.

Except that wasn't true.

"I need the strength,"
he said at last. "The Ancestors saved me for a reason and that
reason is to kill him."

"Who? You mean Aagam?"

He was already moving away from
her. He fell upon the moss-wrapped parcel before ripping into the
flesh beneath to the point of choking on it. Ashsweeper saved
embarrassment by handing him a skull of water. He could feel her
watching him. He stopped, amazed at his own thoughtlessness, and
offered her the remaining scraps, but she shook her head.

"You can't, you know?"
she said sadly. "You can't kill him."

"I thought you... I
hoped
you hated him."

Ashsweeper's face glittered with
tears and he felt a catch in his own throat. "You're clumsy,
Whistlenose, and I was never supposed to marry you. I wanted Surestep
to pay my bride-price, you remember him? But then, he broke his
shoulder and it wouldn't fix right."

"I remember," he
whispered. "Nobody had to ask him to Volunteer. He had a
thousand days left. Ten thousand."

She nodded, wiping her face with
the back of her hand. "And then you came along. The oaf, I
called you," but she was smiling as she spoke, her voice fond.

"You did everything you
could to discourage me."

"Of course I did! You
already had one living wife! No way you could have supported the two
of us with that shaky spear of yours. Or so I thought. But she was so
lovely, wasn't she? Dear Sleepyeyes who saved us all."

"She was, she was. She
watches over us still."

Ashsweeper sniffled. "But we
can't waste what she's done, or what you've done, my sweet husband.
If you kill Aagam, you might as well truss up our son and strand him
out in no-man's land. The Chief... the Chief announced before the
wedding that... that Aagam will save us all from the end of the
world. I didn't believe it. But right then, the whole Roof went dark!
Did you see that? The light... I was so frightened. I couldn't find
the boy. Didn't know where he'd gone! And then... then a piece of the
Roof fell down after the light came back. I didn't see it myself,
but..."

"Oh, I saw it," he
whispered. It had saved his life.

He didn't know what to do. He
wanted to apologise for bringing Aagam into the 'Ways. For allowing
the man to see his wife and fall for her... And yet, it was true what
she had said. Removing the stranger would bring about the death of
his family, and worse—infinitely worse—it might doom the
whole Tribe. He shuddered, fighting against the hatred and the fear
and the guilt.

Whistlenose looked around the
room, wishing more than anything the boy were here, but relieved too
that he wasn't, for the child was too young not to tell others what
he had seen. Or did that even matter now?

"I know what they're
planning," he said. "The Chief and his new friend. They
want us... you, the Tribe, to go to a place his brother found.
Stopmouth, his name was."

"His brother? But..."

"I know. He lived until only
a few days ago, apparently. He was fast. I remember that much about
him. I don't think his mind was right, but he always did his share.
He was the one who won the Talker from the Armourbacks and the
Flyers."

"He must have been a lot
smarter than he looked, then," said Ashsweeper, "if he
stayed alive so long away from the Tribe. But who could do such a
thing? Who would
want
to?"

"Aagam was sure of his
story. And the Chief believes him completely. There's... there's
supposed to be another tribe out there somewhere. And Stopmouth found
it with the woman he stole."

She whistled. Then, all of a
sudden, her eyes lit up. "But wait! If
they
survived, maybe you can too! Husband! You have so much more
experience than either of them. You could make it to the... the other
tribe!" She faltered.

The whole idea tasted absurd to
both of them. It couldn't work. Who would show him the way? He knew
Stopmouth had headed towards Longtongue to begin with and had brought
enough supplies to feed him and his woman for tens of days. Everybody
had heard that much of the story, although the whole Tribe had
learned soon enough not to speak of the incident in the presence the
Chief.

He felt strength returning to him
from the meal he had eaten. Her hand came to rest on his shoulder.
"You can't stay, husband... Whistlenose. You can't kill him
either, if it's true the world is ending like he says."

He turned around and saw what
those words had cost her. The Tribe came first and that's all there
was to it. He felt the same.

"I should go," he
agreed, at last. "Before... before he comes back. I'm not sure I
could stop myself if I saw him."

"There's still one of your
spears here, you know?"

"I won't take it. You could
swap it for flesh," he said. His second spear had seen a lot of
use, but was in better condition than he was. It was one of the older
ones from before the Tribe had learned to make tips from Armourback
shell. It had a fine piece of flint at the end, however, that would
buy a few good meals.

"We won't starve," she
said, and he knew it was because of her new husband. A man who
couldn't hunt, but whose position at the side of the Chief made him a
far better provider than Whistlenose could ever be.

He nodded, unable to respond, and
took the spear. Without a backward glance, he headed for the steps.

"Where will you go?"
she asked. "Will you try to find Stopmouth?"

He didn't answer. He genuinely
didn't know. But as he strode up towards the dangerous light, he
realised suddenly that he would never Volunteer himself again. He was
going to live, and that's all there was to that. He gripped the old
spear and his face twisted itself into a smile.

Wallbreaker
didn't think he would ever cry again, but after his first meeting
with Aagam, he interrupted the evening meal with his wives and his
child. He sent them to their room upstairs.

"I need to be alone."

Not even Mossheart had objected.

He found his face wet, and hot
too, as though fevered. Stopmouth, of course. The only one he could
trust. The worst of traitors and dead, it seemed, for a second time.
But it hurt so much more now that the anger had faded.

"Take care of him,"
their father had said so long ago. Wallbreaker hadn't known what this
was about. "Mind your brother. Your mother had to fight to get
him named and there's plenty hungry enough to think he didn't deserve
it."

Father had volunteered the next
day and nobody had been expecting it.

Poor Stopmouth had been
especially hurt. He'd trailed after Wallbreaker everywhere and
couldn't string more than three words together without his tongue
getting lost along the way. A sweet boy for all that, and sometimes
when the older brother was courting Mossheart, she would joke, "Lucky
for you, Wallbreaker! I almost forget myself sometimes and kiss him!"
But her kindness to the boy, rare as it was in a Tribe that expected
him to Volunteer early, had only caused Stopmouth to dream of her, to
want her. It must have festered inside—Wallbreaker saw that
now—it must have festered there until he thought Mossheart
should have been his all along.

And then Indrani had fallen from
the sky and changed everything. Wallbreaker had saved her life when
all around wanted her Volunteered. Then, he had honoured her by
taking her as a second wife, although she couldn't so much as make a
blanket!

The life of the Tribe confused
her. The whole surface of the world horrified her in a way only a
really intelligent man like Wallbreaker could share. He alone had
loved her: her marvellous dark skin; her bright teeth and the
determined set of her jaw. No other woman in the Tribe could compare.

The thought that she was still
alive, still out there. That she could be his again, filled him with
joy.

She would have had time to adapt
to the world by now. She would be thinking more clearly. And with his
traitorous, wonderful brother gone, nobody would steal her from him
ever again.

Two days later, Aagam stumbled
back into the Chief's house sporting two black eyes and clutching at
his chest.

Wallbreaker surged to his feet,
heart pounding. "Who attacked you? By the Ancestors, I should
have put a guard on you!"

"It was that slut you gave
me for a wife!"

"You asked for her. And
already you call her a slut?"

"Well, I want a different
one now, and I want that one Volunteered. Along with her brat of a
son."

"No," said Wallbreaker.

"No? You forget who I am."
Aagam tapped his head with one finger. "I went to a lot of
effort to learn what I've got up here."

"It doesn't matter,"
said Wallbreaker. "There's only so much the Tribe will swallow
without chewing, you understand? We already have them harvesting moss
now when they should be hunting—"

"—that was your idea,
you ignorant savage! I wasn't saying to do that at all!"

Wallbreaker took a deep breath.
"Are you trying to force me to kill you? Is that why you came
here?"

"You wouldn't dare! I'm the
only one—"

"Sit down." And when
the man ignored him and kept spitting and shouting, Wallbreaker
kicked the legs from under him and knelt down hard on his belly. Even
then, the stranger failed to shut up until he felt a knife against
his throat. It was made of Armourback shell and quite capable of
sawing right through the man's neck.

"I need you," said
Wallbreaker. "The Tribe doesn't know that yet. They're not even
sure they need
me
,
although they do. They'd be gone already, every one of them, without
me. But it doesn't stop the muttering over the fact that I don't hunt
any more. The older ones especially don't understand it and every
setback brings new cries for a return to the old days.

"And now, with your arrival,
we have
two
men who do not hunt. One of these is practically a beast with fur on
his face. He can't even talk, but already he gets a proven survivor
Volunteered and takes over that man's family without so much as
paying a bride price. People are wondering whose wife the Roofman
will want next."

"But only I can—"

"Shut up, Aagam. You're
barely human. You should be food for our spears. You're not Tribe."
He tapped his chest. "We don't feel you
here
.
If you marry again now, without showing your worth, it won't be just
you that feeds the Clawfolk. It will be me too. And my wives and my
daughter. Your knowledge might save us for tomorrow, but your greed
will kill us for today. Do you understand?"