‘I tried,’ Shade said. ‘All he wants is more poppy juice.’ Shade often wished he had the ear of a decent, sober, sensible, intelligent priest. He remembered Etxelur, and the partnership of Kirike and the wise priest Jurgi.
Bark pointed, faintly mocking. ‘Time for another peg.’
In fact he was overdue. Shade hastened to mark the shadow.
‘Or one of the women. They could do this. The gods know you’ve got enough wives…’
That was true enough. There were always lots of widows among the Pretani, and as the Root Shade had had his pick. But all his children had died young, save one, Acorn, a little girl on whom he doted when his hunters weren’t watching.
‘And you should come training with us. You should hear what some of these boy-men say about you behind your back. Some of them are itching to challenge you.’
‘There’s always some hothead ready to gamble his life.’
‘If enough of them have a go, one of them will win that gamble in the end. Look, I’m serious. You need to keep in condition. Standing around watching shadows won’t do that for you. And it wouldn’t do you any harm to take down one of the boy-men some time. Just to show the rest you’re still top.’
It was wise advice, of its kind. ‘I’ll think about it.’
Bark blew his nose noisily into his fingers and wiped his hands on his loin pouch. ‘Right, I’m off for a shit, a swim in the river and some food, not necessarily in that order-’
Somebody screamed. A child, by the edge of the clearing.
The two men exchanged a glance, and ran. Children came boiling out of the forest like ants from a kicked-over nest. One girl had a basket of fruit, but the others had abandoned whatever they had been collecting. Their mothers ran across the clearing towards them, and some of the men.
Shade saw his own daughter. He ran over and grabbed her. ‘Acorn! What is it?’ The girl, eight years old and still child-slim, was shaking, her eyes wide. She was so scared she couldn’t speak. He knelt before her. ‘Calm down, child. You’re safe now. Tell me what happened. Was it a bear? A cat?’
‘No – no – it came down out of the trees, it just dropped on us-’
‘What came down?’
But now there were more screams from the forest. The mothers with their children scattered, and the men, shouting to each other, tried to form a line before the trees.
Acorn turned and pointed at a stout ash tree. ‘That came down!’ she yelled. ‘That!’
There was something clambering in the branches, Shade saw, some animal, big, agile.
It leapt down into the clearing, teeth bared, fingers outstretched. It was a boy, maybe twelve years old, naked, his skin covered in green smears – a Leafy Boy. The men faced the Leafy, but they stayed out of reach of his swinging paws.
Something was wrong. No Leafy Boy had attacked the people so openly before. And, Shade saw now, the Leafy had a rope tied around his neck, leading back to the forest.
Now another Leafy Boy came flying out of a treetop, landing in a roll that took him into a group of men, knocking them down. He got up snarling – no, this one was a female, a she, with small hard breasts, but as muscular as the first. But she, too, had a rope around her neck.
She leapt onto one of the fallen men. He scrabbled to get away. She grabbed his own club and rammed it in his open mouth so hard that teeth cracked and bone splintered. The man, pinned on the ground, shuddered and gurgled, and blood gushed out of his ruined mouth.
There was a moment of shocked stillness.
Then Bark yelled, ‘Rush them!’ He went in first. He jumped on the boy, and the Leafy bit and scratched.
More of the men moved in on the girl, who still straddled her shuddering, dying victim. She seemed if anything more formidable, and fought with a reckless inhuman ferocity.
Shade himself pushed Acorn away and raced forward, reaching for the blade at his waist.
But then the rope at the girl’s neck was yanked backwards. She clutched at her throat, but she was dragged off the downed man and, struggling and kicking, was pulled back across the grassy floor of the clearing.
The other Leafy was subdued now, his face bloodied, three men sitting on his arms, chest and legs.
‘Don’t kill him,’ Shade snapped. He strode forward past the boy, following the way the girl had been dragged.
At the edge of the clearing a group of adults – people, not Leafies, clad in dirty skins – dragged the girl into the green shade, threw a net over her and bundled her up with rope. Still she kicked and fought.
Shade faced the strangers, his blade in his hand. ‘Who are you?’ he called in Pretani, and then he switched to the traders’ tongue. ‘Show yourselves, if you want to live.’
One of the group stepped forward into the daylight. It was a woman, her body square and strong, her breasts flat under her tunic, her red hair tied back and shot with grey. Her face was familiar, and yet was laid over by a mask of scars. Lines around the eyes and mouth told of bitterness. He had the impression she smiled rarely.
Yet she smiled as she faced him. She spoke the Etxelur tongue. ‘Hello, Shade. Do you remember me? You kicked me out of here, but that was long ago. And things have changed, haven’t they?’
‘What do you want?’
‘To talk.’
It was Zesi.
64
They sat in Shade’s house.
Shade had called for his priest to sit with them, feeling the need for spiritual support in this confrontation, but Resin, poppy-addled and terrified, was barely conscious. Bark, meanwhile, refused to go further than a couple of paces from the Root’s side with strangers in the clearing. He sat just outside the house’s door flap where he could watch Zesi and her grimy followers, who sat around the open-air hearth, sharing a deer haunch.
The two Leafies lay huddled together on the ground, pinned under a net weighted down with logs.
In the house, Zesi told Shade what had become of her in the fifteen years since the summer of the Great Sea, when she had left Albia after the death of the Root.
‘So we got rid of you from here. And then Ana threw you out of Etxelur.’
‘More than that,’ Zesi said, every word dripping with bitterness. ‘I am dead in Etxelur. What you see is a sack of bones walking around. And I nearly did die too, in those first days alone. But you know me. I was always a fighter.’
She grinned, cold, somehow more savage even than the Leafy child-woman she had unleashed on the Pretani. He wondered how he could ever have imagined he loved her. ‘So you came back.’
‘I had no real intention, no plan. Nowhere to go – I knew I wouldn’t be welcome here. Yet I came this way. Perhaps drawn by your memory.’ She didn’t look at him when she said this. ‘Or perhaps it was the forest. You can hide in a forest. Hole up. You can’t do that in Northland, all those open spaces.’
‘So you hid away.’
‘Not well enough. They soon found me.’ She nodded at the band who had accompanied her, most of them men, some women, all of them grimy and tough-looking. ‘Them or their predecessors. Many of that first lot are long dead now.’
‘Bandits,’ said Shade. This was a traders’-tongue word. Bandits, rootless folk who preyed on others, were a plague, especially in the forests where they could hide in the shadows. ‘I can imagine how they treated you. A woman alone-’
‘You should imagine how I treated them. Before they learned to leave me alone one man had to die, choked to death on his own severed cock.’
He was careful not to react. ‘So you survived. And you came to lead them.’
‘Not just this lot. There are many bandit groups. The forest swarms with them. You know that.’
‘I suppose it doesn’t surprise me. You always were a leader. And now you have the Leafy Boys under your sway, I see.’
She grinned. ‘Did you like my stunt? I’m sorry one of your people got killed – it shouldn’t have gone that far.’
‘Death always did follow you around, Zesi.’
‘It made the point, though, about how vicious they can be. Imagine a swarm of them falling on your houses! They would chew your eyes out before you had time to shout the alarm.’