Treespeaker (18 page)

Putak’s voice was gentle in his mind.
You’re doing well. Don’t let him guess that you can see through him.
Dovan dropped his head to his chest to hide any emotion his eyes might betray. How had he ever thought Beldror a friend? How could he have chosen him over his father?

Now Beldror turned to Putak, one eyebrow raised. Obviously he was waiting for an introduction. Grifad stepped forward. “Ah, Putakash, Treespeaker of the Second Tribe. It is you.” He emphasised the ‘Treespeaker’ a little, and Dovan, even with his head down, felt Beldror tense. At that moment, Dovan began to sense the tightening headache that he had felt before in Beldror’s presence. The whispering of Arrakesh soothed it away. Putak’s thoughtspeak also entered his mind.

Whatever he says, he must believe he has you under his control. He mustn’t know you’re Treespeaker.

You can feel this?

I can, but Arrakesh is strong.

Beldror’s dark eyes turned on Putak. “Do you have some business here, Treespeaker? Or is it a social visit?” He put out an arm to lean on the stone mantel above Megda’s fireplace.

Putak smiled an easy smile, as if this was a friendly meeting between members of the two tribes as it should have been.
Who does this man think he is, asking such a question of me? What arrogance makes him think it is any of his business?
To Beldror he said, “Jakan is my cousin. So, of course, when Dovan stumbled into our village, trying to find his father, I was most concerned. I helped him look, but as he said, there was no sign of him. Dovan is young to be left alone. I thought it best to come and make sure that he has adequate support. And, of course, to hold a farewell for his mother.”

“And his father, maybe?”

Dovan swallowed hard. He didn’t need to pretend grief now. Angry tears threatened to spill at any moment. He stole a look at Putak, whose face had hardened, but showed no real hint of the anger he knew he was feeling. “There is no proof that Jakan is not alive. A farewell for him would be somewhat premature, I think.”

Dovan turned to look at Beldror as Putak spoke and felt a sudden wave of nausea. He was giving Putak the same cold, supercilious stare as he’d always given his father.
Putak, be careful. You’re in danger here.

I
am making him nervous, just as Jakan did. He knows we have the power to stop him, whatever it is he plans. I just wish I knew how. Don’t worry.

Beldror turned to Grifad and stared at him for a moment. Grifad blinked and looked a little dazed. Then he spoke to Putak.

“I’m sure a private farewell for Ashjalena will do no harm and help this poor young man to move forward, but we’d hate to keep you from your duties in your own village. A Treespeaker’s skills are always in demand at short notice. You were planning to return home soon, I’m sure?

Putak gave a wry smile. “Yes, I would like to get back as soon as possible. Thank you for your concern. But is there nothing I can do while I’m here?”

Grifad opened and shut his mouth, shaking his head and frowning. He cast a quick look at Beldror who glared back. Grifad coughed. “No, no, I think everything is well here. We will, of course, call you if we need you.”

Putak arched his eyebrows for a second and pursed his lips. “Your people have just been through a very traumatic time, Grifad. Indeed, Megda has been ill from the stress of it.” He looked at Megda, who had, up to now, been glaring at Beldror and Grifad. Now she clasped her hands in front of her, her face the picture of a sick old woman. A look of panic flashed in Grifad’s eyes and he again turned to the Outlander.

“As Grifad said, everything is fine. You heard Megda say herself she is feeling better.” Beldror’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Putak, but the Treespeaker held his gaze without flinching. Dovan shuddered. He had seen all this before. It couldn’t happen again.

 “Very well.” Putak nodded. “I shall hold a farewell for Ashjalena this afternoon and I’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

As Grifad and Beldror left the cottage, Dovan let out a long breath and felt the knot in his shoulders relax. Megda shut the door firmly behind them, letting out a long sigh. Putak stood in silence. He took deep breaths, his brow furrowed.

At last he must have realised that Dovan and Megda were waiting for him to speak first. He shook his head at them. “Your father was right, Dovan. The man is malevolent. I will hold the farewell this afternoon and then I think it best that I take you, Megda and Kelsha back with me. We’ll make a plan for ridding the forest of Beldror from there.”

Both Dovan and Megda gasped. Dovan found his voice first. “I can’t, Putak. I belong here. I have to do something and I have to be here to do it. I won’t run away.”

“And I am staying with Dovan.” Megda took Dovan’s arm.

Putak looked from one to the other, a bemused smile playing on his lips. “I admire your courage, but you’re in great danger if he realises what’s happening.”

“I’ll be careful. He won’t suspect anything.”

Megda pouted. “And I’m an old woman. He doesn’t seem to think the old villagers are any threat to him.”

“I’ll take up your offer, if I may.” Kelsha crept from her hiding place. “I’ll only endanger Megda and Dovan if I stay here.”

Putak considered for a moment, then nodded. “Very well. We’ll leave just after midnight. I suspect Beldror will try to make sure I don’t make it back. Hopefully, we can leave before he sets a plan in place.”

Jakan sat on a chair in the courtyard, his foot on a stool. He had made it this far on his own, with the help of a crutch fashioned by Evyn, but his ankle still ached. Tashi stood beside him. In her hand, she held a sling he had made for her the day before. She swung it around her head and let fly the stone as he had taught her. It was supposed to hit an old chipped pot on the top of the wall, but it chinked against the top of the wall about a foot to the right.

Jakan clapped. “You’re getting better. Just hold onto the knot a little longer before you let go.”

Tashi’s bottom lip stuck out. “I’m trying, but it just seems to slip out of my fingers.”

“Here, let me see. Maybe you need my secret knot.” Jakan held out his hand. She slipped the loop from over her wrist and gave him the sling. He had made it for her at her request, but he’d forgotten how difficult it was for a child to master. He tied the knot at the end and handed it back to her. “There, see if that stays better under your fingers.”

The little girl slipped the loop back over her wrist, stooped to pick up a small rock from the pile in front of her and set it in the saddle of the sling. With the knot under her fingers against the heel of her hand, she started to swing the sling in circles. This time when she let the knot go, the stone flew straight, hitting the pot on the wall with a loud clunk.

Jakan cheered, almost losing his balance on the chair. His ankle jarred at the movement and he grimaced before saying, “We’ll make a hunter of you yet, little one!”

She stared at him. “I don’t want to hunt anything! I love animals. I could never kill one.”

Jakan frowned. He hadn’t considered that. If the way she’d tended him over the past few days was anything to go by, she certainly didn’t seem the sort to go hunting. “Then why did you want to learn to use a sling?”

Tashi stared at the ground, tracing an imaginary circle on the cobbles with her toe. “So that I can beat Brod and Evyn at something. They can’t use a sling.”

 “That sounds like a good reason. So, let me see you do it again.”

Tashi continued to practise until she was hitting the pot far more often than she missed. Jakan watched her, occasionally casting a wary eye over the sky above them.

“Is the hawk coming?” Tashi’s voice trembled.

 “No, I don’t think so. He’s probably got bored with me, found himself a nice juicy rabbit. Much better to eat than a grisly old man like me.”

Tashi blinked and managed a half smile, but she looked unconvinced. Jakan glanced away to hide his own doubt. The hawk had visited daily, screeching its pain through his body. Each time, the agony grew worse and he was beginning to fear that the next visit would be the last, for the pain in his chest lasted long after the bird had flown away. If he could have taken a sling to it, he would have, but the pain came far too quickly.

“Forget the hawk, little one,” he said at last. “Keep practising.”

Tashi fired off a few more pebbles before she stopped again. “Who taught you to use a sling?”

“Me?” With a pang, Jakan remembered his first lesson with a sling. It had been Kattan who showed him. His father had professed to being no good at it and had begged his friend’s help. Thinking of Kattan brought a wave of grief so great that, for a moment, Jakan felt unable to breathe. He swallowed hard, pushing the grief down as he had so often over the past days. He shook his head, forcing a smile. “I was taught by a chicken.”

Tashi giggled. “A chicken?”

He nodded. “She used to hold it in her beak and spin it round and round her head. Unfortunately she kept hitting me in the ankles, so I gave it away very quickly. You’re much better at it than me.” He’d become adept at these silly answers over the past few days, for Tashi had asked many such questions, too painful to answer. With an inward sigh of relief, he saw Merida appear at the cottage door.

“Look, Mama, see what I can do!” Tashi loaded another pebble as Jakan had shown her, swung it around and let it fly. The pebble hit the pot yet again, chipping a piece from the edge and Tashi’s face glowed.

“That is indeed a great accomplishment,” said her mother, “but right now, I need help to peel some potatoes. So if you could put your sling away –”

“But Mama…” Tashi began. Her mother cocked her head to the side, one eyebrow raised. With a sigh, Tashi handed the sling to Jakan, who smiled and pushed it into the pocket of his trousers. They were some of Brod’s old trousers and slightly too large, but he liked the comfort of material over the leather he was used to.

Picking up the crutch Evyn had fashioned him, he pushed himself up to stand. Frustration at not being able to continue his journey had been eating at him. He needed to keep busy. “I’m quite adept with a knife. May I help too?”

Merida’s brown eyes opened wide and she shook her head. “Peeling potatoes isn’t a man’s work, and I wouldn’t ask a visitor to do such a thing.”

Jakan looked down at his crutch and still heavily bandaged foot and shrugged. “I’m not capable of a man’s work at the moment and I would like to help. It can’t be that hard, can it?” He winked at Tashi.

Merida smiled, though her face still looked tense. “Very well, but you must sit in a comfortable chair with a bowl.”

Jakan gave a melodramatic bow of acquiescence and hobbled after Merida and Tashi into the house. As he entered, he took the sling from his pocket and put it on a small table by the door. Then he sat in the chair Merida indicated and began to peel as she directed. All the time, Tashi gabbled and asked more questions. Again, Jakan managed to deflect them with jokes and half-truths, but the memories she stirred knotted and writhed inside him. Merida must have sensed his discomfort. She waved her knife in her daughter’s direction.

“You know, if you peeled as much as you talked, you’d be finished by now.”

Tashi looked at Jakan, her head lowered and he winked at her. “Let’s see who can finish their bowl first.”

She gave a quick nod and set to work, biting her bottom lip as she clutched the knife.

Jakan’s spirit fell as he worked. Though he’d offered to do this, it made his frustration worse. A man supposed to be on a journey to help his people, sitting here peeling potatoes. What was Beldror up to in the meantime? He wouldn’t be wasting time like this. The not knowing was the hardest thing. He needed to get to Garuga to find Varyd, not sit here peeling potatoes. Yet it wasn’t the going forward he really yearned for, it was the going back.

At last, all the potatoes sat clean and white in a large bowl.

“Thank you, both,” Merida said. “Now, Tashi, will you please take this bucket of scraps down to the chickens?”

“Please, let me take it!” Jakan struggled to stand.

“Merida shook her head emphatically. “You can hardly walk yet, Jakan,” she said. “You can’t carry a bucket and use a crutch too!”

Jakan laughed and moved himself over to the bucket. “Watch me.”  He lifted the bucket in one hand and swung out through the door before she could stop him.

The sky was glowing golden and a cool breeze had come in, carrying the scent of grass and honey. Jakan loved this time of day and cherished the chance to be outside alone. He breathed deeply as he walked.

His foot was beginning to take some weight without pain, certainly an improvement on a few days ago when he had tried to leave without the crutch before the Hudd family awoke. He had made it halfway across the courtyard before the pain forced him to sit and wait for Roduph to rise from his bed and help him back. Even now, he was careful to let the crutch take the weight of the bucket.

He did not bother to go into the chicken pen, but leant on the gatepost and threw the scraps in. Just as he was about to shut the gate, he heard the flap of wings above his head. He shut his eyes, his body suddenly cold. His mind spun as he tried to think of some way to get away, to avoid the inevitable, but there was nowhere to hide from this. His heart began to beat furiously.

The pain, when it came, was the worst yet. It was as if hands were around his heart, squeezing the life out of it. He couldn’t breathe. Around him everything turned a sickening shade of yellow as he started to pass out.

Dropping his crutch and the bucket, he clung to the gatepost with both hands, willing himself to stay upright, willing the pain to stop, but it was unrelenting. He looked up at the bird, which was now perched on the barn roof looking down at him.

“Stop!” he pleaded through clenched teeth as he sank to his knees.

A squawk from the bird brought his head up. It was not its usual satisfied shriek, but a cry of pain. In disbelief, Jakan watched it fall, with a flurry of feathers, down the roof and onto the ground. The chickens scattered in every direction. The hawk twisted and flapped in the dirt, sending up clouds of dust with its great black wings, until at last it struggled on the ground right at his knees. Gasping for breath, he stared at the bird, unable to believe what he saw. With a trembling hand, he reached down and picked up a large rock. He hardly looked as he threw it down with all his might. The hawk gave a pitiful last squawk and laid still, one glassy eye staring up at him.

Jakan leaned on the gatepost and rubbed his eyes. A shadow moved beside him and he looked up. Tashi stood looking down at him, tears rolling down her face. Dangling from her hand, as if she didn’t want to hold it, was the sling. Jakan looked from her to the hawk and back again.

“You did that?” he asked between ragged breaths.

Tashi nodded, biting her lip.

“But why?” Jakan asked. “I thought you could never use it on an animal?”

Tashi’s whispering voice shook. “It was hurting you!”

Jakan felt a sudden surge, like a flooding stream, and his eyes filled with tears. Clamping a hand over his mouth, he tried to hold back the sob that rose, but it was impossible. He sank against the wall of the chicken run and began to cry, as he had never allowed himself to cry. All the pain, grief and frustration of the past weeks poured from him. He couldn’t control it. In his mind, the cottage burned once more and the anguish of knowing that he couldn’t save Jalena was as acute as at that moment. Life without Jalena was a huge black hole in his future and it terrified him. Thoughts poured, one after another, into his mind and he could find nothing to save him from the feeling of drowning. Just as he began to get a grip of himself, fears for Dovan, Megda and his people resurfaced and the tears renewed their strength. As they ebbed, fresh fears of the journey ahead made them well up again. He couldn’t stop them.

His heart, still thudding from Jahl’s handiwork, felt as if it was tearing apart. He wished it would. He didn’t want this anymore. He didn’t want to be Arrakesh’s hero. Jalena was all he wanted, and to be home, as it was before Beldror. Thoughts of what Beldror might be doing made his chest tighten and his sobs grew louder. His throat burned, his eyes stung and his ribs ached.
Arrakesh, help me.

A small voice next to him brought him back to the present. Tashi knelt next to him, holding out a handkerchief. “Please, don’t cry, Jakan.”

Jakan looked at her and tried to smile as he took the tiny piece of linen and wiped his face, but her sympathetic innocence brought a fresh surge of tears. He rested his elbows on his knees and hung his head on his chest, holding the handkerchief to his eyes, fighting to regain control. He didn’t want to scare Tashi. Where was the strength he thought he had? How could he cry like this in front of a child?

Tashi sat next to him and rubbed his arm, as she might a hurting animal. When, at last, he regained control and sat up straight, she said nothing, but stood and bent down to pick up his crutch. As she moved, Jakan was startled to see another figure behind her. At the corner of the cottage stood Hekja. She was very still, watching them, her leathery cheeks ashen.

Jakan, clutching his chest and still gasping for breath, pulled himself up and took his crutch from Tashi. He reached for the bucket, but she had already retrieved it and moved to take his free arm. He smiled his thanks. This child would never know what she had done for him today.