Chronicles of Ancient Darkness Part 115

When they were out of sight of land, Bale's father would take his spear and gash the funeral boat, sending his son down to the Sea Mother. The fishes would eat Bale's flesh, as in life he had eaten theirs; and when his shelter was ashes and the ashes had blown away, all trace of him would be gone, like a ripple on the Sea.

But he'll come back, thought Torak. He was born here. This was his home. He'll be lonely at Sea.

Fin-Kedinn was speaking his name. 'Torak. Come. You must join the feast.'

'I can't,' he said without turning round.

'You must.'

'I can't! I have to go after Thiazzi.'

'Torak, it's dark,' said Renn at her uncle's side, 'and there's no moon, you can't leave now. We'll set off first thing in the morning.'

'You must honour your kinsman,' Fin-Kedinn said severely.

Torak turned on him. 'My kinsman? That's what we've got to call him, isn't it? My kinsman. The Seal Clan boy. For five whole summers, till we've forgotten his name.'

'We'll never forget,' said Fin-Kedinn. 'But it's better this way. You know that.'

'Bale,' said Torak, very distinctly. 'His name. Was Bale.' Renn gasped.

Fin-Kedinn watched him narrowly.

'Bale,' said Torak again. 'Bale. Bale. Bale!'

Shouldering past them, he ran the length of the bay, only stopping when he reached the smouldering ruins of Bale's shelter.

'Bale!' he shouted at the cold Sea. And if that summoned Bale's vengeful spirit to haunt him, then let it. It was his fault that Bale lay at the bottom of the Sea. If he hadn't quarrelled, Bale would not have been alone on the Crag. They would have faced the Oak Mage together, and Bale would still be alive.

His fault.

'Torak!'

Renn stood on the other side of the fire, her pale face shimmering in the heat. 'Stop naming him! You'll draw his spirit!'

'Let it come!' he flung back. 'It's only what I deserve!'

'You didn't kill him, Torak.'

'But it was my fault! How do I bear it?'

To that she had no answer.

'Fin-Kedinn's right!' he cried. 'The Seals can't avenge Bale, that's for me to do!'

'Don't keep naming him '

'Vengeance is mine!' he shouted. Drawing his knife and taking his medicine horn from its pouch, he raised them to the sky. 'I swear to you, Bale. I swear to you on this knife and this horn and on my three souls I will hunt the Oak Mage and I will kill him. I will avenge you!'

FOUR.

Wolf stands in the Bright Soft Cold at the foot of the Mountain, gazing up at Darkfur.

She is many lopes above him, gazing down. He catches her scent, he hears the wind whispering through her beautiful black fur. He lashes his tail and whines.

Darkfur wags her tail and whines back. But this is the Thunderer's Mountain. Wolf can't go up, and she can't come down.

All through the Long Cold he has missed her, even when he was hunting with Tall Tailless and the pack-sister, or playing hunt-the-lemming; especially then, because Darkfur is so good at it. Of all the wolves in the Mountain pack, Wolf misses her the most. They are one breath, one bone. He feels this in his fur.

Darkfur goes down on her forepaws and barks. Come! The hunt is good, the pack is strong!

Wolf's tail droops.

Her bark becomes impatient.

I cannot! he tells her.

With a leap, she is bounding down the Mountain. The Bright Soft Cold flies from her paws as she races towards him, and Wolf's heart flies with it. Joyfully he lopes towards her, running so fast that he . . .

Wolf woke up.

He was out of the Now that he went to in his sleeps, and back in the other now, lying at the edge of the Great Wet. Alone. He missed Darkfur. He missed Tall Tailless and the pack-sister. He even missed the ravens, a bit. Why did Tall Tailless leave him and go off in the floating hides?

Wolf hated it here. The sharp earth bit his pads, and the fish-birds attacked if he got too close to their nests. For a while, he'd explored the Dens of the taillesses along the Great Wet, and the Fast Wet that ran into it, but now he was bored.

The taillesses didn't hunt, they just stood around yipping and yowling and staring at stones. They seemed to think that some stones mattered more than others, although they all smelt the same to Wolf; and when the taillesses gave each other stones, they quarrelled. When a normal wolf gives a present a bone or an interesting stick he does it because he likes the other wolf, not because he's cross.

The Dark came, and the taillesses settled down for their endless sleep. Wolf heaved himself up and went to nose around the Dens. Scornfully evading the dogs, he ate some fishes hanging from sticks, and a delicious hunk of fish-dog fat. Then he found an overpaw outside a Den and ate that too. When the Light came, he trotted into the Forest, trod down some bracken to make a comfortable sleeping-patch, and had a nap.

The smell woke him instantly.

His claws tightened. His hackles rose. He knew that smell. It made him remember bad things. It made the tip of his tail hurt.

The scent trail was strong, and it led up-Wet. With a growl, Wolf leapt to his feet and raced after it.

'I told you,' said the Sea-eagle hunter, tying up a bundle of roe buck antlers. 'I saw a big man coming ash.o.r.e. That's it.'

'Where did he go?' said Torak. He was relentless. Renn, cradling a cup of hot birch-blood in her hands, wondered how much more the Sea-eagle would take.

'I don't know!' snapped the hunter. 'I was busy, I wanted to trade!'

'I think he went upriver,' said the hunter's mate.

'Upriver,' repeated Torak.

'That could mean anywhere,' said Renn. But already Torak was heading for the Raven camp and the deerhide canoes.

It was the second night after Bale's funeral rites, and after an exhausting crossing, they'd reached the trading meet on the coast. Fog shrouded the camps along the sh.o.r.e and the mouth of the Elk River. Willow, Sea-eagle, Kelp, Raven, Cormorant, Viper: all had come to barter horn and antler for seal hide and flint Sea eggs. Fin-Kedinn had gone to return their borrowed skinboats to the Whale Clan, and the ravens were roosting in a pine tree. There was no sign of Wolf.

Renn ran to catch up with Torak, who was shouldering through the throng, earning irritable glances, which he ignored. 'Torak, wait!' Glancing round to make sure they weren't overhead, she said in a low voice, 'Have you thought that this could be a trap? The Soul-Eaters have set traps for you before.'

'I don't care,' said Torak.

'But think! Somewhere out there are Thiazzi and Eostra: the two remaining Soul-Eaters, and the most powerful of all.'

'I don't care! He killed my kinsman. I'm going to kill him. And don't tell me to get some sleep and we'll start in the morning.'

'I wasn't going to,' she replied, nettled. 'I was going to say I'll fetch some supplies.'

'No time. He's already got two days' lead.'

'And it'll be more,' she retorted, 'if we have to keep stopping to hunt!'

When she reached the shelter she shared with Saeunn, the sight of its familiar, lumpy reindeer hides brought her to a halt. Less than a moon ago, she'd left it and run down to the skinboats, eager to have Fin-Kedinn and Torak to herself, and to see Bale again.

She shut her eyes. In disbelief, she had stared at his broken body. The blind blue gaze. The grey sludge on the rocks. Those are his thoughts, she'd told herself. His thoughts soaking into the lichen.

Night and day, she saw it. She didn't know if Torak did too, because if he talked at all, it was about finding Thiazzi. He didn't seem to have anything left for grief.

Fog trickled down her neck, and she shivered. She was tired and stiff from the crossing, and hollow with grief, and lonely. She hadn't known she could be so lonely among people she loved.

Around her, hunters appeared and disappeared in the murk. She thought of Thiazzi gloating over the fire-opal. A man who took pleasure in others' pain. Who lived only to rule.

The Raven Mage huddled in her corner beneath a musty elk pelt. Over the winter, she had shrunk in upon herself till she reminded Renn of an empty waterskin. She rarely hobbled further than the midden, and when the clan moved camp, they carried her on a litter. Renn wondered what kept that shrivelled heart beating, and for how much longer. Already, Saeunn's breath carried a whiff of the Raven bone-grounds.

Trying not to wake her, Renn gathered her gear and crammed supplies into auroch-gut bags. Baked hazelnuts, smoked horse meat, meal of pounded silverweed root; dried lingonberries for Wolf.

The elk pelt stirred.

Renn's heart sank.

The speckled pate emerged from the fur, and the flinty eyes of the Raven Mage regarded her. 'So,' said Saeunn in a voice like the rattle of dead leaves. 'You're leaving. You must know where he's gone.'

'No,' said Renn. Saeunn could always place her talon on a weakness.

'But the Forest is vast . . . You must have tried to see where he went.'

She meant Magecraft. Renn's hands tightened on the gutskin. 'No,' she muttered.

'Why?'

'I couldn't.'

'But you have the skill.'

'No. I don't.' Suddenly, she was close to tears. 'I'm supposed to see the future,' she said bitterly, 'but I couldn't foresee his death. What's the good of being a Mage if I couldn't foresee that?'

'You might be able to do Magecraft,' rasped Saeunn, 'but you're not yet a Mage.'

Renn blinked.

'You'll know it when you are. Though perhaps your tongue will know before you do.'

Riddles, thought Renn savagely. Why always riddles?

'Yes, riddles,' said Saeunn with a wheeze that was almost a laugh. 'Riddles for you to solve!' She paused to catch her breath. 'I've been casting the bones.'

Torak appeared in the doorway and threw Renn an impatient glance.

She motioned him to silence. 'What did you see?' she asked Saeunn.

The Mage licked her gums with a tongue as grey as mould. 'A scarlet tree. An ash-haired hunter burning inside. Demons. Scrabbling under scorched stones.'

'Did you see where Thiazzi went?' Torak said brusquely.

'Oh, yes . . . I saw.'

Fin-Kedinn appeared beside Torak, his face grim. 'He's heading for the Deep Forest.'

'The Deep Forest,' echoed Saeunn. 'Yes . . . '

'A group of Boar just arrived,' said Fin-Kedinn. 'They came down the Widewater. At the ford, they saw a big man in a dugout, heading up the Blackwater.'

Torak nodded. 'He's Oak Clan, that's Deep Forest. Of course, that's where he'll go.'

'We'll take two canoes,' said Fin-Kedinn. 'I've told the clan they're to stay here while we head upriver.'

'We?' Torak said sharply.

'I'm coming with you,' said Fin-Kedinn.

'So am I,' said Renn, but they ignored her.

'Why?' Torak asked Fin-Kedinn. With a pang, Renn saw that he didn't want them. He wanted to do this on his own.

'I know the Deep Forest,' said Fin-Kedinn. 'You don't.'

'No!' Saeunn was fierce. 'Fin-Kedinn. You must not go!'

They stared at her.