‘The Pretani will take it away. Punish us for having it.’
‘Then we’d better make sure they don’t find out, hadn’t we?’ She grinned. But the women looked wary, and Dolphin was reminded that this wasn’t a game to these people, but a question of the lives and deaths of their children.
So she sat quietly and held the little girl’s hand until Kirike came back with a satchel of medicines.
76
The Seventeenth Year After the Great Sea: Late Summer. In the cold dawn light, Acorn and Knot approached the Leafy Boys tethered at the foot of the great old oak. Shapeless in her tunic of stiff hide, Acorn was carrying a skin food satchel. Knot, close beside her, bore a long, stout stick.
Knot felt Acorn’s hand creep into his. He could feel her trembling, her small fingers clutching his. His own heart was thumping, for he had a deep gut fear of the Leafy Boys.
And he was always nervous in this place anyway. On their way to Northland, the Pretani party, led by Acorn’s father, had come to the very edge of the world-forest, where there were no more trees and the skies were open. He was a forest boy who tried to hide his fundamental terror at the emptiness above.
And on top of all that the touch of Acorn’s skin gave him a very complicated feeling.
He was ten years old, she was nine. Not for the first time he wished he was older, when he might understand the hot, confusing sensations that swarmed through his body when she was close. But Acorn was Shade’s daughter, his only child, and the Root surely had some more suitable boy lined up to marry her when the time came – more suitable than Knot anyhow, with his slim, scrawny frame, his dead mother, and a father, Alder, who the men sneered at as more interested in mixing medicines than fighting, even when they came to him to get their wounds dressed. He had this morning with her, at least. It had been him she’d asked to come with her on this secret dawn jaunt – whatever it was about, and he didn’t know yet.
He just wished it didn’t have to involve Leafy Boys.
The Leafies lay on the ground under a weighted net, their naked bodies wrapped around each other. In the murky light Knot could see abrasions around their necks and ankles, and bruises and scars on their backs.
As they approached, the Leafies stared at Acorn and Knot, their empty gazes more animal than human. Knot could smell stale shit. One big buck fixed his gaze on Knot, challenging. Knot raised his club, and tried to think through the moves he would make if the buck tried anything.
But Acorn walked up to the Leafies without hesitation, and counted them. Their muddy limbs were so tangled up, it was hard to tell one from the other. ‘Three, four, five. There’s one missing. A girl.’
‘Maybe the men took her.’
‘Anyhow, this is the one.’ Acorn was pointing to the smallest Leafy under the net, a boy, very small, thin and slight, looking no older than four or five. His eyes were huge in a skull-like head, and his ribs showed through papery flesh. Acorn made a cooing noise, as if he was a baby. ‘Look at you. You’re so sweet!’ And, to Knot’s astonishment, the small Leafy seemed to respond. He moved towards her. ‘Look how little and skinny he is!’
‘The Leafies snatch kids and train them to run in the canopy. There’s bound to be some little ones.’
‘Well, they got it wrong with this one. He’s too weak – you can see that. And he’s not able to feed properly. He can’t fight with the others when the men bring the food.’
Knot’s head spun as he worked out what was going on here. ‘You’re feeding him. We’re not supposed to be feeding Leafies! They’re not puppies! They’re killers!’
She snorted. ‘Look at him. Little Shade isn’t going to kill anybody. Unless they die laughing.’
He stared at her face, pale in the gathering dawn light. ‘Little Shade? You’ve given him a name? Your father’s name?’
She pouted. ‘Why shouldn’t I give him a name?’
‘He’s a Leafy. Leafies don’t have names.’
‘He got snatched from some house, didn’t he? He must have had a name there, given him by his mother, poor thing.’
‘Yes, but – if your father found out-’
‘Well, he won’t as long as we both keep our mouths shut.’
Whatever he had come out here for it hadn’t been to make her angry. ‘All right, all right,’ he muttered. ‘Anyway if you’ve been feeding him already, what do you want me for?’
‘Because the handlers have changed the way he’s being kept. He was with other little ones before – not with these big ones. It was easier when it was just little ones. These big ones are more trouble.’ She dug the food out of her pack. It was deer meat, raw, the way the Leafies preferred, and a paste of crushed hazelnuts. All the Leafies stirred at the scent. ‘I thought the two of us would be all right, we could fight them off while he feeds.’
‘I’d rather not fight anybody at all.’
‘Let’s just try.’
He had no choice. He stood at her side, and pointed his stick at the Leafies. ‘We’ll go in together. But stay close to me.’
Cautiously they crept in towards the net. Knot felt his heart hammer even harder. Acorn, calm and determined, made straight for Little Shade and held out a slice of meat towards him. Another Leafy girl made a grab for it, and Knot prodded his stick at her and she fell back, hissing.
Little Shade was able to reach out through the net and grab the meat. He shoved it into his mouth and chewed enthusiastically.
When he’d done, Acorn tried him with another piece. The other Leafies stirred, eyes wide, but this time the big buck growled, and the others stayed back, letting the little one take the food.
Then Acorn went in a third time. Knot kept his stick raised, ready to attack.
77
On the morning they were to enter Northland, before the rest of the camp stirred, Shade walked out of his house and into the gathering light.
He was in a broad clearing in the world-forest, here at its ragged edge. The black mounds of the Pretani tents and lean-tos, hastily erected after the march the day before, were angular shapes in the grey-blue light. The men’s footprints had churned the ground to mud, and trails led off to the spring to the west, and to the south where the Leafy Boys lay in their night traps by the big old oak.
He hadn’t slept well – he never slept well with Zesi in his house. Now in the uncertain light he felt disoriented, as if the boundary between the waking and sleeping worlds had become blurred. This was one reason he’d come out for an early walk; it was best to face the day with a clear head.
In the hearth at the centre of the clearing the big communal fire still smoked, though the huge fallen trunk they had hauled from the forest was disintegrating into crimson embers. Stepping towards the hearth, Shade passed a heap of spears, and a row of buckets of shit. The smell was rank, and flies buzzed in the dark. This was one of Zesi’s tricks. Dip the tip of your spear in shit, and the chances were that even a grazing wound would become infected; even if you failed to kill an opponent quickly, you could do it slowly. The hunters, always proud and protective of their weapons, grumbled about the mess and the stink, and some had proposed poisons made of various herbs, but they were hard to prepare and dangerous to apply. Shit was always available, easy to apply, and safe enough to handle as long as you washed it off.
And here was Bark, squatting on his haunches by the hearth, with his stabbing spear propped before him. He might have been resting like this half the night; Shade had never known a man so patient, with leg muscles so immune to cramp. Bark had smeared soot from the fire over his bare limbs and face, the better to blend into the night’s dark. When he grinned at Shade his teeth showed white, with gaps inflicted by years of fighting.
‘No trouble?’
‘None.’ Bark pointed towards the forest wall around them; Shade could see one of the hunters Bark had posted to keep a look-out. ‘I swap them around every so often.’ He yawned, stretching his jaw, and shook his head. ‘Keep them awake.’