Treespeaker (32 page)

Beldror stared at the second bag. He seemed to have forgotten Jakan and now strode toward Grifad, who cowered, his eyes darting from side to side as if looking for a place to hide. “This is your doing! I left you in charge last night. Where are the healing stones?”

Grifad shook. He held his hands in front of his chest and took a step backward. “I swear Beldror, I didn’t touch the bags. I don’t know what happened.”

“Beldror.” Jakan leapt to his feet and dodged in front of Grifad, delving into his pouch as he went. He had to keep Beldror’s attention on him. Grifad would stand no chance against one of the blue flames and whatever his personal feelings for Grifad, he wanted no deaths from his actions.

Beldror stepped forward to elbow Jakan out of his way, but Jakan held up his hand. The Keshfahzan glowed in the darkness. Beldror stopped, staring with longing at the rock. Jakan stepped sideways, back towards Padhag Klen and Beldror followed, like a goat intent on a handful of grass. Assured that he now had Beldror’s full attention, Jakan slipped the Keshfahzan into his pocket.

“You know I’m not going to let you keep that.” Beldror took a step forward.

“You don’t know what it is.”

Beldror scowled. “Only a fool would not recognize the power of it.”

Jakan couldn’t help smiling at this. “You could be right.”

“Stop playing games, Treespeaker.” He took another step forward. “Give it to me. Now.”

Jakan backed away.
You really want it, don’t you? Come and get it.
Beldror rushed toward him, arms outstretched. Jakan winced as the tall man’s hands gripped his shoulders and pushed him backwards. He grunted as he hit the ground with Beldror’s full weight on top of him. Now that Beldror thought he had control, he could let him take the stone.

Father!

Putak’s thoughtspeak was panicked.
I can’t hold him!

No, Dovan!
Jakan’s heart thudded.

His warning came too late. Dovan flew onto Beldror’s back with a bellow of anger. He clawed at his face, then grabbed his shoulders, pulling him sideways off Jakan and kicking him in the back. Jakan scrambled to his feet, panting for breath, just in time to see a ball of blue flame shoot from Beldror’s hands. He watched in horror as it hit Dovan in the chest. A look of puzzled surprise froze on his son’s face as he fell backwards in apparent slow motion. Leaves rose and fell as his limp body hit the ground.

Jakan stood staring at his son, unable to move, the silence around him broken only by the rasping of his own breath. In his mind, time did not pass and no one else existed. He was alone with Dovan, surrounded by a blanket of pain he could not endure.

With a huge effort he managed, at last, to stumble to kneel beside Dovan, aware of Beldror pulling himself up to stand. Dovan’s eyes were closed, his face serene. Not daring to hope, Jakan reached out a trembling hand and laid it over his son’s heart. His own heart rose a little as he sensed a faint beat. Life only hovered in him, but with the Keshfahzan he could –

“Give it to me, Treespeaker.”

Jakan turned to gaze up at Beldror, who glared at him with hand held out. What did he want? Jakan’s numb mind struggled to understand. Then realisation hit him and he swallowed hard at the bile that rose to his throat. His head dropped to his chest.
Arrakesh, help me, please. This can’t happen. I can’t give him the Keshfahzan or I’ll lose Dovan. There must be another way.

A child crying in the circle brought Jakan back from his thoughts. He stared at the villagers through misted eyes. Their faces tore at his heart. If he didn’t give Beldror the stone, how many more would die? There was no other way. How could he have been such a fool? How could he have let it come to a choice between his people and his son?

Hardly knowing what he did,
he delved into his pocket and grasped the Keshfahzan. Its energy tingled against his palm. He thrust it at Beldror, his only emotion a huge sense of loss. Without looking to see what the man did with it, he turned his attention straight back to Dovan.What hope did he have of saving him now?

With a grunt, he scrambled a few feet to where a pile of healing stones lay on the forest floor. He snatched a handful and threw himself back to his son’s side.
Help me, Arrakesh
his mind screamed, but though he could still make his way through Dovan’s pain, he felt his control fading.
No, not now! Help me.
In desperation he pushed the stones harder against Dovan’s chest.

A gasp from the people around him brought his head up. The villagers stared at Beldror as his expression twisted in horror. The man stared at the stone as if it burned his hand and tried to throw it away, but his fingers remained clenched about it. Looking desperate, he shook his hand, but the stone stayed fast.

The healing stones on Beldror’s cape began to glow brighter and brighter until Jakan shifted back and shaded his eyes against the glare, instinctively moving to protect Dovan. Beldror screamed as his skin turned dry and brown and shrank around his bones, leaving his face skeletal, his eyes bulging. Gasping for breath he fell to the ground, squirming with pain amongst the sticks and leaves. Jakan jumped back again in alarm as the earth beneath Beldror opened like a huge mouth and swallowed him, wriggling and screeching for help. Then silence and he was gone.

Moments passed and the silence hung heavy in the air. Jakan stared at the spot where Beldror had disappeared, his heart torn in two. They were free, but at what cost? For with Beldror had gone the only hope he had of saving Dovan. He knelt, shaking, unable to feel anything but wretchedness.

A hand on his shoulder startled Jakan. He looked up into the eyes of Putak. “Maybe together we can…” He knelt and took one of the healing stones from Jakan’s hands and began to work on Dovan’s chest.

With his hand over Dovan’s heart once more, feeling his life ebbing with no way to help him, Jakan was overcome with a sudden surge of despair.
Will I ever understand, Arrakesh?

Varyd did not kneel beside Dovan, but stood looking uncomfortable and awkward.  “Is there nothing you can do?”

Jakan shook his head, his mouth a bitter line. “With the Keshfahzan, I could have saved him, just as I did Tashi. But it’s gone with Beldror. I –”

A scream from the circle of villagers made him stop. He glanced at Putak who stared with a look of terror at the spot where Beldror disappeared. Jakan’s stomach churned. From the ground a tiny hand appeared, then a foot and another. The ground around the tiny limbs rolled and leaves rustled. Then a second hand rose out of the humus and Jakan blinked to clear the tears of joy and disbelief that rushed to them, for the second tiny fist, held the Keshfahzan.

“The judgement is complete.”

Jakan glanced at Varyd. “What do you mean?”

“The Keshfah has decided on Beldror’s fate. To live his life over again.”

Jakan’s jaw dropped. “That’s Beldror?”

Varyd nodded. “In a way.”

A muffled wail shocked Jakan into action. He scrambled to the baby. His first thought was to snatch the stone and get back to Dovan, but the child coughed and spluttered between sobs. Left for much longer he would suffocate.

I should let you die for all you’ve done. Why give you chance to do it all again?

Jakan’s mind spun and he had a sudden wish that he too had been brought back to this point by the judgement. For with innocence came naivete. He longed to go back to that point not so long ago in his own life, when everything seemed good, and the only evil, Maganark, was safely imprisoned beneath the waters of the Black Lake. Could he really have been so naïve?

Jakan delved into the leaves and lifted the wriggling child free, clearing his face and mouth of humus.  As Jakan laid him on the ground, the brown eyes stared at him and the baby’s face broke into a smile. It held no hint of insolence or arrogance, just joy to see a face. Jakan stroked a leaf from the child’s hair then took the Keshfahzan from his tiny fingers and rushed back to Dovan.

***

He sat back, watching Dovan’s face with growing elation as he regained consciousness. The filtering had been exhausting, even with the aid of the Keshfahzan, the wall of blackness thick and the coldness unbearable. Without the Keshfahzan, without his own renewed strength, he would have failed. Now his son’s eyes, so like his mother’s, flickered open and a weak smile curled his lips.

“Father.”

“Dovan.”

“What happened?” Dovan groaned a little as he struggled to sit up.

With tears in his eyes, Jakan pulled his son to him and held him. Over Dovan’s shoulder he could see the other villagers, hugging each other, relief shining in their faces. Putak and Varyd still knelt on the forest floor, their eyes glistening. It was over, the nightmare ended.

“Zanarrash.”

Jakan frowned at his son’s voice and sat back to look at his face. “What did you say?”

Dovan stared past Jakan. “Zanarrash. His name is Zanarrash.”

Jakan shifted his body around to look at the place where the Beldror child lay. Megda stood there, the child wrapped in her shawl, rocking him and making soothing noises. “He was cold.”

Jakan shook his head and looked back at Dovan. “I don’t understand. Zanarrash? Forest Child? He’s Beldror.”

“The man, Beldror, is dead, Jakan.” Varyd leaned on Putak’s shoulder to stand up. He walked to Megda, peeking at the child beneath her shawl. “This child is what Beldror was, before his father died and his mother worked her wickedness on him. An innocent babe.”

“He is Zanarrash, Forest Child of the Ash family. Arrakesh wants you to raise the child to be the man he could have been.” Dovan reached out and laid a hand on Jakan’s arm. “Father, Arrakesh is telling me this. Why can’t you hear him?”

Jakan glanced at Varyd. A look of understanding came over the older man’s face and he rubbed the back of his neck. Jakan covered his face with his hands, squeezing his temples and straining to hear Arrakesh, one last time. The silence swirled in his mind. Raise the child? How? Without Jalena, a man alone? Yes, his own father had raised him alone, but he had been his own flesh and blood and Megda acted as mother.
How, Arrakesh? Why? Answer me.
But Arrakesh remained silent.

Jakan raised his head and uncovered his face when Putak cleared his throat. The old Treespeaker looked at Jakan, giving a slow shake of his head. “It’s important, Jakan. Arrakesh would not ask it otherwise.”

Jakan let out a long, resigned breath and nodded. He stood and turned to the villagers who had gathered in close and watched the proceedings with bated breath. They moved in a step closer, Grifad pushing his way to the front.

“Jakan –”

Jakan held up his hands and shook his head. “It’s late and getting cold. Please, let’s all go home and get some sleep. Tomorrow we’ll meet and talk. We’ve much to discuss, but now is not the time.”

He was relieved to see Grifad turn and herd the villagers away with open arms. They looked disappointed, but followed Grifad’s prompting. Jakan watched them walk away, his heart warmed by a renewed sense of belonging.

***

Jakan leaned against the stump of Padhag Klen and gazed at the golden forest of dawn. Unable to sleep, he had slipped away from Megda’s cottage when the sun merely hinted at its imminent presence. Only Varyd knew where he went, for he had woken when Jakan opened the door. Putak had left even earlier.

The Keshfahzan had been in his pocket. Now it was not. All night he had tossed and turned, considering, amongst other things, the problems such a stone might bring. The stone of Gredanfyt, Putak told him last night, lay hidden somewhere in the forest, secreted there by Gredanfyt who grew tired of the constant bickering it caused. In the very first light of morning, Jakan climbed what was left of Padhag Klen and dropped the Keshfahzan in a hole that went deep into the trunk. The longest of arms could never reach it, even if they knew of its presence. He felt nothing but relief.

Now he watched the sunrise, listening to the sunlit song of a thrush weaving its way around his confused heart. Emotions rose and fell in a constant flow. He could feel Jalena close by, a part of the trees, the sky, the leaves on the ground. He craved this chance to finally experience the forest about him and grieve his loss alone. Though he could no longer speak to Arrakesh, he knew his presence.

“Jakan?”

Not now Grifad, go away.
Jakan focused his gaze on the man before him who, for the first time since he had known him, looked apologetic. “What is it, Grifad?”

Grifad kept his head down, shuffling his feet in the leaves. “Megda said I might find you here. I need to speak to you about something before you meet the villagers.”

Jakan raised an eyebrow and waited for Grifad to continue. Grifad’s cheeks flushed pink. “It’s just…well, while you were away, I…that is, Beldror –”

“You were made Chief Elder.”

Grifad kept his eyes on the ground. “Er, yes…but …it was all a mistake Jakan. I’m sure Arrakesh would never have chosen me to –”

“You seemed to be doing all right last night.”

Now Grifad’s head snapped up and he stared at Jakan. A smile twitched on his lips, then died. “It’s not my place though, is it?”

Jakan let out a long breath. “Grifad, it’s not me you should be speaking to.”

“But you’re Treespeaker.”

“No longer. Speak to Dovan.”

Grifad looked perplexed. “Dovan? But he’s just a –”

“Treespeaker. Grifad, please, I really don’t feel like talking right now.”

“One more question, please?”

Jakan sighed, resting his head back against the stump of The Tree. “One.”

Grifad rubbed at his chin. “What of Beldror?”

Jakan’s heart fell. Already there were questions. How did Arrakesh think this would work? “Beldror is dead.”

“But the child…”

“Is named Zanarrash and will be raised in the village. He has a new beginning, just as we do. We’ll never be the same. We must each find our new place in Arrakesh’s plan.”