Treespeaker (7 page)

Only an hour after he had sent two men in search of the young hunting party, Jakan heard a commotion down by the Meeting Hall. Through the gathering dusk, he made out four figures emerging from the forest. The missing hunters had returned.

He dropped his armful of wood by the door and strolled towards the Hall. Other villagers also gathered, watching. Jakan frowned. The return of hunters would not normally evoke such interest. What was different this time?

As the young men stepped out from the trees, his heart quickened. Between two of the boys, strung onto a branch, was a young doe, her head lolling, and her soft brown eyes lifeless.

The small crowd stopped by the Meeting Hall and stood, waiting for the young men to come to them. They nattered amongst themselves. Jakan stood, stony-faced, amongst them for a few moments before they noticed him. They fell silent as he pushed his way to the front of the group and halted, arms folded. The two men he had sent out searching approached first. He nodded his thanks at them and they moved away.

The four young hunters looked pleased with themselves. They wandered in chatting to each other, their bows hanging over their shoulders. Then they saw Jakan and their faces flushed with uneasiness. Beldror alone maintained his look of calm.  They came to a halt a few yards away, obviously waiting for Jakan to speak first. He stared at them without speaking for a few moments. He wanted to give himself time to quell his own anger, but also to let them squirm in their guilt.

“Your mother will be pleased to see you, Maden,” he said at last. “She’s been worried.”

Maden scuffed at the ground with his foot, his face turning pink. He said nothing.

“Your mother told me you were hunting rabbits. I don’t recall ever seeing a rabbit that looked like that.” Jakan jerked his head towards the doe.

The three boys continued to stare at the ground in silence. Beldror still wore a smirk and Jakan again found himself clenching his fists.

“It’s a fine animal, is it not?” Beldror smiled around at the villagers, obviously looking for approbation.

“It is indeed.” The voice came from behind Jakan, who spun to glare at the speaker. Grifad shrugged and looked away.

What’s wrong with the man?
Jakan thought.
He’s an Elder, yet he does nothing to condemn blatant breaches of the law.

Jakan took a step towards Beldror and spoke in a voice so low that only Beldror could hear. “This is a village affair and I suggest you stay out of it. I’ll speak to you later.”

Beldror still smiled, but pure hatred shone in his eyes.  A sudden pain shot through Jakan’s head, as if a clawed hand tried to delve its way into his brain. It threatened to take a hold of his mind at any moment. Beldror was doing this, Jakan knew it. At the same time, he could hear the soft whisper of Arrakesh, like a wind through the treetops, soothing him and assuring him of safety. He concentrated on that sound, all the time continuing to stare into Beldror’s eyes, refusing to flinch or show the slightest sign that he was affected. The pain ebbed. The Carlikan scowled and turned, without a word, in the direction of Grifad’s cottage, with Grifad scooting after him.

Jakan watched them go with a feeling of apprehension. He knew now that Beldror held some power he had not fathomed, and it worried him. He must take care how he dealt with him. Somehow he must have him expelled, but obviously he had used that power on many of the villagers and succeeded. How many of the Council were under his control? Grifad for one; that much was clear.

With an effort, Jakan brought his thoughts back to the matter at hand. He glared at the three young men. “Can you explain to me how you went to hunt rabbits and came back with a doe?”

Maden bit on his lip before replying. “It was just there.”

Jakan stroked his beard waiting for further explanation.

Ferad spoke this time, looking to his cousin, Galok, for support. “Rabbits are hard to catch and only feed a few,” he said. “This will feed many.”

Jakan gave a slow nod. “That’s indeed true. Tell me, Ferad, Do you know how many deer there are in our lands at the moment?”

“The numbers are down.”

 “So have you, or have you not, been told of Arrakesh’s will about the hunting of deer this summer?”

Ferad nodded, rubbing his hand around the branch on his shoulder. Jakan continued to gaze at him until at last he muttered, “The deer were to be left alone.”

“So knowing that numbers are down and knowing that Arrakesh has told us to leave them alone, you still thought it fine for you to kill a doe? A doe that may have otherwise managed to raise a healthy fawn to adulthood ready for our tables next year? You’re so clever that you thought you knew better than Arrakesh, how best to keep the balance?”

The boys remained silent. Ferad and Maden visibly wilted under the weight of the doe they still carried on their shoulders. Jakan felt in no mood to relieve them.

“You’ve gone against the will of Arrakesh,” he said. “It’s only right that you should be punished. Our deer numbers are threatened, yet you saw fit to hunt them.”

Galok’s head came up. “But we haven’t threatened our deer numbers. This doe came from Latter’s Glen.”

Anger shot from the pit of Jakan’s stomach. Galok looked uncomfortable as his friends cast him dark looks. There were greater sins than going against the edicts of the SpringSpeak.

“Latter’s Glen?” Jakan’s voice was ice. “You’ve hunted deer in the territory of our neighbours?”

Behind him, he heard the nervous shuffling of the villagers as they realised the implications of what the boys had done. Jakan clenched his fists tight in front of him, knowing that his anger could get away from him at any moment. His real ire was not against these boys. The real culprit had just walked away.

With great effort he continued. “Maden, tell me. Why were you in our neighbour’s territory?”

“We…” Maden faltered. Jakan became aware of someone by his side and turned slightly to see Kelsha, her face pale, glaring at her son. Maden went on. “Beldror wanted to explore and we just … went there.” 

Jakan’s anger turned to a feeling of nausea.
Exploring in that region? Why?
He didn’t like the answer that came to his mind. Abruptly, he turned to the villagers behind him, wishing he had sent them away earlier. This wasn’t something that needed to be discussed in public right now.

 As he surveyed the group, a strong conviction overcame him that they were waiting for him to fail. All – except Kelsha, he was relieved to see – regarded him with disapproval in their eyes, as if it were his behaviour being called to question, not that of the boys. How could that be? All these people had been brought up with a clear understanding of the need for balance and cooperation. The Treespeaker had always been looked up to as the one whose knowledge helped to maintain that balance and cooperation. Yet here he was being met with scowls and folded arms. Had their respect for him waned so much in such a short time? Had he done something to cause it? More likely it was Beldror’s mind games.

His attention returned to the boys and he caught a look of belligerence crossing Maden’s face. It was only fleeting, but Kelsha had apparently seen it too, for she stiffened and spoke to her son. It was the voice of an Elder, rather than a mother.

“Maden, explain to us why you went to Fashmanek.”

Now a rumble of surprise rose from the villagers. They obviously hadn’t thought this far. If, indeed, the boys had taken Beldror to Latter’s Glen, then they must have passed through Fashmanek, a narrow valley sided by steep hillsides. It was from Fashmanek that the blue healing stone, carried by all Treespeakers, came. For a stretch of fifty yards the stream ran bright blue, reflecting the myriad blue stones on the stream bed.

As the source of the healing stone, this area was held sacred and rarely visited by anyone but the Treespeakers themselves. Though it lay in the territory of the Fifth Tribe, it was considered the property of the whole People of Arrakesh. To have taken an Outlander there, without permission of a Treespeaker, was indefensible.

Maden looked flustered at his mother’s deduction. “Beldror said…” he began and stopped, looking to the other boys for support. Ferad shook his head and Galok made a careful study of the leaves at his feet.

Jakan’s impatience made his voice terse. “Beldror said…?”

“He wanted to see it.”

“How did he know of it?”

“I don’t know.”

Jakan studied the boy’s face for a moment and decided that he was telling the truth. He cleared his throat. “Very well. As this deer belongs to our neighbours, you must take it back to them.”

The boys’ faces fell and they all began to argue with him at once.

“Are you questioning my authority?” Jakan kept his voice low. “It doesn’t belong to us. Therefore it must be returned to its owners.”

This time it was fair-haired Galok who stepped forward and spoke. At last, his voice held respect. “But Jakanash, the village of the Second Tribe is a good day’s walk from here. The meat may spoil.”

“Which is why,” Jakan said, smiling without humour, “you’re going to take it back tonight, in the cool of darkness!” The boys gasped and stared at each other in dismay. Conscious that they were about to start arguing again, Jakan continued, “Leave the deer here. Go home now, have a meal and gather what you need. I want to see you on your way by dark.”

“But we’re tired from the time we’ve been out.” Ferad’s voice sounded weak, like a whining child.

“I’m sure our brothers and sisters in the Second Tribe will give you a place to rest your heads when you get there.” Jakan’s anger left no room for sympathy. He caught another look he didn’t like from Maden and added in a stronger voice, “And if you’re thinking you might leave this in the forest and return home, don’t bother. I’ll know. And you’ll like the consequences of that action even less.”

Subdued, the three young men moved to hang the deer between two posts by the hall, before ambling off to their homes. They didn’t look at Jakan. The other villagers, too, turned away in silence and moved towards their cottages.

“Thank you, Jakan,” Kelsha said in a low voice as she moved to follow her son.

“Kelsha,” Jakan called after her, “could I have a private word?” Kelsha nodded and turned back, her face expectant. He cleared his throat and spoke in a low voice. “I was just wondering how you find our visitor?”

 “I’ve had little to do with him, but he seems popular, especially amongst the young people.”

“Yes, but when you have been with him, have you sensed anything… anything strange about him?” He stooped to pick up a leaf, studying it without any real interest.

“To tell the truth, I’ve only spoken to him once and at the time, I had such a headache, I didn’t talk to him for long.”

 The leaf in Jakan’s hand crumpled as he clenched his fist. He tossed it away. “Did you feel…” He struggled to find the right words. “Did you feel as though you were being drawn to him in some way?”

 “Jakan! I’m almost twice his age!”

Jakan put his hand to his forehead, shaking his head and smiling a little despite the seriousness of the matter. “I assure you, that’s not what I meant. I just feel that he has some power over people. I wondered if you’d felt it?”

 “He does seem very charismatic to others, but I don’t particularly find him so.”

“What about the Council?”

“I can’t speak for others.”

Jakan sighed. “Please, Kelsha, I need to know. Do you feel that Beldror is influencing the Council?”

Kelsha cast a nervous look over her shoulder before answering. The last of the villagers were well out of earshot. “Yes. They do seem to be in awe of him.”