Authors: Katie W. Stewart
***
The bags lay filled by the carts and the men bent to drink from the stream. The night air was beginning to cool, but they remained hot from their work. Dovan wiped a handful of water across his forehead and looked about him. The torchlight cast flickering shadows amongst the trees and he could hear the rippling water and the faint, bell-like screeches of bats as they flew over his head. A sudden shiver ran down his spine, but he could see nothing that might have caused it. He stood up, shaking the water from his hands.
Dovan walked to a bag and lifted it into his arms, comparing the weight of it to the bags of stones he had carried only yesterday. It seemed similar. If they could replace the lower half of the mound of healing stones with dirt without Beldror knowing, there was a chance they could thwart him. Only a chance.
Another shiver made Dovan stop and peer around. What was it? All he could hear, apart from the forest noises and the trickle of the stream through the rocks, was the heavy breathing of the men as they lifted the bags. So why did he keep feeling as if something was not right? He glanced at Putak. He, too, had stopped working and stared off into the forest.
Putak, do you feel something?
Dovan’s thoughtspeak obviously startled Putak. He held out an arm and held a finger to his lips. The men stopped and stood quietly, their eyes questioning.
“There’s someone coming.”
Putak’s hoarse whisper was hardly out before a twig cracked and a figure appeared on the other side of the stream about fifty yards away. Recognising his shape in the moonlight, Dovan retreated into the shadows. He held his hand to the side of his face, watching between his fingers.
Putak signalled the others to stay where they stood. He stepped forward. If he felt any concern it didn’t show. He held his head erect and his shoulders back. The man on the other side of the stream continued to run towards them, his head down. He didn’t look up until he reached the stream. There he stopped, his mouth open, his eyes wide.
“Putakash? What are you doing here?”
Putak bowed his head in greeting. “Greetings to you, Grifad. May I ask you the same question?"
Now that the effect of running had subsided, Grifad’s face looked pale and drawn. He rubbed his temples as if trying to clear his head, then gazed at Putak with shining eyes. “He’s going to destroy us all, Putak. He’s going to destroy the Veil and use us as slaves to destroy Arrakesh. Those who rebel will be killed.”
“He’s told you this?” Putak raised an eyebrow.
“Not in as many words, but I’m sure that’s what he’s planning. He has gone now to the forest’s edge, to see why the soldiers, who should have arrived already, have sent him no message. Tomorrow night the Veil will be brought down and the soldiers will move in. A nightmare is coming upon us, just as Jakan…” Grifad stopped and covered his face with his hands.
Still hidden in the shadows, Dovan studied Grifad’s actions. Was his concern real, or had Beldror sent him? He didn’t seem to be acting, but if Beldror controlled him, it might not be conscious pretense. It was so hard to tell. His mind went back to his own ‘death’ at Fashmanek. Grifad had expressed himself against Beldror then. Had something caused the Outlander to lose control over him?
Putak stepped forward, his feet crunching the leaves on the forest floor. Grifad uncovered his face and looked at him, like a child begging forgiveness. Putak took his elbow and led him to a log ten yards away. There he urged him to sit. The other men followed, leaving the bags and carts by the stream. They sat in a group near the log. Dovan too followed, keeping his head down and going to lean against an elm, where Grifad could not see him.
How do we know if he’s tricking us?
Putak did not reply to Dovan’s thoughtspeak, but echoed the words out loud. “You’ve been very faithful to Beldror, Grifadwyk. How do we know this is not just a trick by Beldror to draw the Second Tribe into his plan?”
Grifad’s head snapped up. He looked aghast at Putak. “I swear this is no trick, Putak. I’ve been a fool, I know it. But now I can see what Beldror’s doing. Something has to be done.”
The men seated on the forest floor murmured amongst themselves. Putak stood with his arms folded, his head on his chest. “But why the sudden change of heart? You have to agree, Grifad, we have a right to be doubtful.”
Grifad rested his hands on his knees, letting his head drop low on his chest. When he looked up, his face was distraught. He kept his voice so low that Dovan could hardly hear him. “I told you, I’ve been a fool. I let personal rivalry get in the way of common sense. It was obvious from the start that Jakan didn’t approve of Beldror, so I encouraged the other villagers to welcome him, simply to get at Jakan. By the time I realised Beldror could get inside my mind, it was too late.”
Dovan, still leaning against the tree, clutched at the bark. So this had all been to anger his father? He thought of his mother and bit on his lip to stem the tears that burned his eyes. She had died because of a petty argument?
Putak…
Shh, Dovan, I know. But stay where you are for now.
Putak dropped his arms to his sides and moved a step closer to Grifad. “You still haven’t told me what’s brought you here. What’s happened to help you break away from Beldror?”
Grifad’s lips tightened. He brushed his hands through his thinning hair and stared up into the canopy. “Everything, Putak. Everything that’s happened.” He leaned over and picked up a stick, breaking pieces off it as he spoke. “First there was the fire. Jalena…I still…she didn’t deserve that. Then Jakan disappeared. Beldror made me banish Kankelsha, you know. I tried to fight him, but he was too strong. He gets into your head. It hurts. Then young Dovan…” He shook his head, rubbing his eyes. “It was Beldror, I know it was. Trees don’t fall like that. The boy deserved a farewell after everything he’d been through. It’s what Arrakesh wills. But he’s lying out there in the forest…” He let out a long breath and wiped his nose on his sleeve, flinging the rest of the stick away. “Now Beldror’s destroyed The Tree, the centre of our worship. Oh, I know he did it to frighten us, to show us that he’s more powerful than Arrakesh, but for me it did the opposite. He can’t destroy Arrakesh. We can’t let him.”
Putak turned away from Grifad. “Dovan.”
Grifad’s eyes narrowed as he peered into the shadows behind Putak. Dovan stepped into the moonlight and walked towards him and with a sob, the man fell to his knees in the leaves.
“No! Arrakesh has cursed me for my foolishness.” He put his head down and covered it with his hands.
Putak squatted beside him and laid his hand on Grifad’s back. He said nothing, but gazed down the stream, a look of concentration on his face. Dovan could feel what he was doing, filtering his way through Grifad’s mind. Grifad did not move, though he must have been able to feel Putak’s movement through him. At last Putak looked up at Dovan and shook his head.
He speaks the truth. There is nothing of Beldror’s influence in him at the moment.
Dovan knelt down. He could feel the eyes of the other men watching him. Grifad shook with fear as he peeked out from under his arms and saw Dovan so near.
Dovan put his hand on Grifad’s shoulder. “Get up, Grifadwyk. I’m no spectre. Beldror got it wrong. I’m not dead.”
Moments ago, he had wanted to beat Grifad with his fists for what he had done. Now he saw him for what he was, a pathetic wretch, whose ego and hatred had outstripped his sense.
Grifad lifted his head a little and stared at Dovan. He shook his head. “Three trees fell on you. I saw your body. You can’t be alive.”
“Thanks to Arrakesh, I am.”
With shaking hand, Grifad reached up and felt Dovan’s arm. He sat up and looked from Dovan to Putak and back again. “Is it a sign? What are we to do?”
Putak stood and pulled Grifad up with him. Dovan stayed where he squatted, letting a handful of leaves run through his fingers. Somewhere in the distance a fox barked, an eerie sound that made Grifad shiver and look uneasy.
The old Treespeaker kept a hold of Grifad’s elbow. “Does Beldror know you’ve left the village?”
“No, he set off for the forest’s edge straight after he destroyed Padhag Klen. He didn’t see me leave.”
“You need to go back.”
Grifad gasped and shook his head. “No. No, Putak, I can’t. I want to help, but I can’t go back there.”
Putak let go of Grifad and stood up to his full height. “If you want to help, you must go back. You’re Chief Elder. Your people need you.”
Grifad blinked and gave a half-hearted laugh. “Chief Elder? More of my foolishness. I’m Beldror’s puppet, Chief Elder in name only.”
“Nevertheless, that is what you are.” Putak gave Grifad a stern look. “You wanted the position, now you must take the responsibility.”
Grifad gulped. He gazed at the ground for a few moments before straightening his shoulders and nodding. “You’re right, of course.”
Putak signalled the men to stand. “Are you certain Beldror isn’t there?”
“Yes, I’m sure. He took two men and said he would be back by afternoon tomorrow. I was to make sure that the circle of stones was secure and that the villagers were ready to gather at sunset.”
“And tell me, how are the other villagers? Does Beldror still have control of their minds?”
Grifad shrugged. “I’m not sure anymore. He had most, but after tonight, who knows? Destroying Padhag Klen may have had the same effect on others as it had on me. Everyone looked so shocked, it’s hard to tell.”
Putak remained silent for a few moments, staring at a rock in the middle of the stream. None of the other men made a sound. At last he looked up. “Very well, we will go to the village and do what we were going to do. We can do no more than that until tomorrow.”
Will it work, Putak?
It has to. It’s the only plan we have.
***
The men stood in silence, staring at what had been Padhag Klen. Little of it remained except the blackened stump and a few branches. Dovan’s breath came quickly as a surge of anger and despair washed over him. He could not put into words the pain he felt, a different sort of grief than he had experienced so far, but just as strong. This time though, he knew the grief was not his alone. It joined with that of everyone in his village, everyone in Arrakesh and with Arrakesh himself.
We can’t beat him, Putak. Not if he can destroy Arrakesh so easily.
He isn’t destroyed. This is symbolic, designed to make us feel weak. We are part of Arrakesh. Our strength is his. As long as we stay strong, we have a chance.
Dovan cast Putak a doubtful look, but said no more. He had to trust the older man in this, as he would his father if he were here. The thought of his father brought another wave of despair. Where was he? Would he ever return? And if he did, what would he return to?
Putak signalled for two men to come to him. In the silence of the forest, his whispered words carried just far enough for all the men to hear him. “Go towards the forest edge and watch for Beldror returning. We should be safe, but if he turns back early we need to know well in advance.” The two men nodded and trotted away, their feet whispering over the leafy ground.
Putak turned to Grifad. “Are the bags of stones guarded?”
“Two men, but I can deal with them.”
“Good.” Putak grabbed Grifad’s elbow to stop him leaving. “We will not see you again until tomorrow night. When you gather the villagers, have them stand in a circle about The Tree as they did tonight. If Beldror questions it, tell him it is so that all may see his great power. It’s important, Grifad. Can you do this?”
Grifad took a deep breath and stood up straight. “Yes, yes, I can Putak. May Arrakesh be with you.”
“And with you. Now go and deal with those guards.”