Whisper of Leaves Read online

  Kira scrambled to her feet. ‘Do you think I don’t know that? Do you think I would’ve risked Kandor? But Allogrenia’s unmarked, remember? Allogrenia can’t be breached; Allogrenia’s safe.’ Her voice was shrill and she felt like she was going to be sick again.

  Kest rose too, regretting his show of anger. The girl had seen her brother nearly killed and had come close to death herself, and she’d spent every moment since dealing with Sanaken and Feseren’s injuries.

  ‘Protector Tresen will be finished guarding duty soon, then I’ll send him to you,’ he said. ‘Then you’re to sleep. We’ll be leaving at dawn.’

  ‘We have to stay here,’ she said.

  ‘We leave at dawn,’ he repeated.

  ‘I’ve given Sanaken everest. He won’t be able to travel.’

  ‘Everest?’

  ‘It numbs pain and brings sleep. He must have rest for healing to begin.’

  ‘He can be roused.’ Not that it would make much difference. Sanaken and Feseren would probably have to be carried anyway. Four of his men with bearers in their hands, not swords, thought Kest.

  ‘Everest brings a sleep which can’t be broken, but I wouldn’t allow it, even if it were possible to wake him,’ said Kira, hands on hips.

  ‘I wouldn’t allow it.’ She was as arrogant as her father! Well, he was the Protector Leader, not her. They couldn’t afford to spend another night here with only ten Protectors to look after four people, one of whom slept like the dead. They must look to the living, for the wounded might well be beyond all care.

  ‘You shouldn’t have given him anything,’ he snapped. ‘It was obvious that we couldn’t stay here.’

  ‘Stitching Sanaken without everest would’ve killed him. I’m a Tremen Healer, Protector Leader, not a barbaric Terak Kutan! Besides, the danger’s past. One of the strangers is dead and the other’s fled.’

  ‘You’re assuming, Healer, that there were only two. How many voices did you hear in the night?’

  ‘Two . . . I think.’

  ‘Two . . . you think. And there’s no proof that the ones you heard were the ones who attacked you. Nor do we know who else wanders the trees, in this octad or in another. All we do know is what you’ve pointed out: Allogrenia’s no longer safe.’

  Fear suffused Kira’s face, her remarkable eyes catching the firelight. ‘Were they Shargh?’ she said.

  Kest hesitated, caught off guard by her sudden change in direction. ‘Yes, they were Shargh.’

  Kira’s shoulders sagged.

  ‘How is it you know of the Shargh?’ he asked, curious.

  ‘Healers read many things, not just Writings on herbs.’

  She might read many things, but Kest doubted Maxen did. He’d rarely seen the Tremen Leader in the Warens, and never beyond the storage rooms.

  ‘The Protectors don’t speak of the Shargh outside the Warens,’ he said. ‘There’s little point creating fear of an enemy who’s not been sighted or heard of since Kasheron entered the forest.’

  ‘I read things that I don’t speak of also.’

  He went to turn away but Kira touched his arm.

  ‘There’s just one thing I would know about the Shargh, Protector Leader.’

  Kest sighed. He was bone weary and ready for sleep. ‘What?’

  ‘Do the Protectors know of Shargh wounds or the salves Kasheron used for them?’

  ‘There’s nothing in the teachings, except . . .’ He shrugged.

  ‘What?’

  ‘It’s just a meaningless rhyme.’ Meaningless and useless.

  ‘Nothing in healing is meaningless, Protector Leader. Please tell me.’

  ‘ “Fire with flatswords brings the bane; fire without brings life again.” Now sleep, Healer Kiraon.’

  But sleep Kira couldn’t, for Kest’s words tumbled about in her mind long after he’d gone. Rhymes had once been used to teach all healing in Allogrenia, for Kasheron had brought Writings from the north, but no paper to record any more. It had taken them a long time to discover how to concoct a type of paper from patchet weed and longer still to devise an ink that didn’t fade. In the interim, they’d used rhymes to keep herbal lore alive.

  Kest’s rhyme had to date from those early days, when the memories of Shargh wounds and their cures were fresh. It therefore had to hold meaning. But what? Kira yawned and rubbed at her gritty eyes. She must gather sorren and cindra, and snowflower too, to help with the scarring. Sanaken in particular was going to be disfigured, although at least his face had been spared. There should be sorren nearby, which was her main priority, for the slopes here were gentle and eastward-facing, ideal for its growth. Maybe she should gather now.

  ‘You should be sleeping,’ said Tresen, settling beside her. He looked around at the motionless bodies nearby and the shadowy forms of Protectors moving methodically through the trees. Brem had told him of the breaking of the patrol, of their desperate flight in search of them, and of the men who’d stayed behind to guard the Bough. The Bough! Surely Commander Sarkash didn’t expect their attackers to penetrate to the very heart of Allogrenia?

  ‘What news of the world beyond the fire?’ asked Kira. ‘Protector Leader Kest orders I remain within its light.’

  ‘So he should, for he’s sworn to protect,’ said Tresen, taking a sever log from the windfall gathered earlier, and hefting it onto the fire, then watching with satisfaction as the flames took hold.

  The new pulse of light clearly showed his clanmate’s exhaustion. ‘Sleep, Kira.’

  ‘But I need to gather sorren.’

  ‘Not this night; you need to rest.’

  ‘I might need it this night.’

  ‘Do you think they’ll worsen?’

  Kira shrugged helplessly. ‘I’ve done as I would for any other type of wound, but these are Shargh wounds and I know nothing of Shargh wounds.’ She dropped her head.

  ‘Kira?’

  She was weeping. She only cried when she was at her most distressed, and always soundlessly. He had wondered whether it was simply the way she was, or whether she’d learned to hide her misery from Maxen. Tresen pulled her close, feeling her tears wetting his shirt.

  ‘You’re safe now,’ he murmured, ‘we’re all safe.’ But even as he said it, his eyes searched beyond the thin line of guarding Protectors, and he wondered whether his words were really true.

  Kira woke to the rattle of sever leaves, so unlike the ashael’s soothing, whispered melody. She shivered as she realised that if they’d slept in the ashael groves, the Shargh would have seen them and they’d probably be dead. Pulling the sleeping-sheet over her head, she brought her arms round herself. As a child she’d hidden beneath her covering when winter gales sent lightning dancing over the canopy, tearing limbs from trees and blasting boles in half. She’d hidden there too, when her father’s sharp-edged tongue had sent a sunny day into shadow, or his cold eyes had found fault with her gathering, or concocting, or healing. But there was no hiding now from the horror that had overtaken them.

  She sat up. At least the wounded hadn’t roused in the night, even when she’d checked them, and that was a good sign. But the unmistakable tang of rain in the air wasn’t. She stared up through the sever branches at the chinks of leaden sky. If it rained they’d have to find some way of sheltering Sanaken and Feseren.

  A Protector emerged from the trees, his eyes the intense blue Kira remembered from the Warens and the dawn light making his hair white again. She scrambled to her feet, acutely aware of her crumpled, bloodstained clothing. Not that Kest looked much better. His face was smudged with grime and, judging from his expression, his night’s rest had done little to improve his temper.

  ‘Healer Kiraon, you slept well I trust?’

  Kira nodded, avoiding his eyes.

  ‘Rain comes,’ said Kest. ‘We must seek shelter for the wounded. There are caves less than a day south-west. Do you know of any others that are closer?’

  ‘The Healers don’t speak of caves in this area,’ she said. ‘I a
gree the wounded must be sheltered, but if they’re to heal, they mustn’t be moved. The terrawood will keep the worst of the rain off, and we can rig sleeping-sheets above them.’

  Kest peered back up the slope towards the denser canopy of the terrawood, determined not to lose his temper with her again. Espins and castellas crowded close, providing excellent hiding places, which was why the Shargh had probably chosen here for their attack. No, he wasn’t going to risk any more of his men.

  ‘We’ll carry the wounded to the caves,’ he said.

  ‘They must stay here,’ insisted Kira.

  Here they were again, in exactly the same argument as last night. ‘The land around the terrawood is too heavily treed,’ he said evenly. ‘Shargh could be on us before the guards even knew they were coming. We must go to the caves.’

  ‘Protector Leader –’

  ‘I won’t lose any more of my men, nor will I continue to waste time justifying my every decision to you, Healer Kiraon. I’m in command here, and you’ll do as I bid!’

  ‘Shifting the wounded could kill them!’

  ‘And staying here could kill us all! We’re leaving as soon as bearers are prepared, so I suggest you use the time left to do what you can to ease their journey.’

  Kira stood fuming as he strode off.

  ‘Are we leaving?’ Kandor’s voice croaked from behind her. Kira turned, trying unsuccessfully to smile. At least he could speak now.

  ‘The weather’s turned and Protector Leader Kest says we’re to go to some caves.’

  ‘What about the wounded? Didn’t you tell him they can’t be shifted?’ rasped Kandor.

  ‘What do you think?’

  ‘I suppose Kest pointed out that he was the Leader of the Protectors, not you,’ he said.

  ‘More or less. How did you guess?’ asked Kira.

  ‘Ah,’ Kandor whispered, snuggling back into his sleeping-sheet, ‘I’m a man of much wisdom, dear sister.’

  ‘A man of much wisdom, eh? I beg your pardon, sir. In the dim light I mistook you for my little brother.’

  Kandor chuckled hoarsely. ‘Merek’s soon-to-be bondmate is sweet, but she has been known to complain about her bossy brother.’

  ‘Yet she’s willing to bond with Merek,’ muttered Kira. ‘She’ll just be trading one arrogant man for another.’

  Kandor rolled over and began poking at the fire with a sever twig. ‘Oh, Merek’s all right, especially when he’s away from the Bough.’

  ‘Away from father, you mean.’

  A soft veil of rain started falling as they were readying to leave and Kira helped Kandor don his cape before putting on her own. The Protectors had fashioned bearers from sever saplings and sleeping-sheets, and Kira had supervised the lifting of the wounded onto each. Sanaken was pale, with the slow regular breathing caused by everest, and would probably sleep for another day; Feseren slept too, though his sleep was from injury and shock. Kira had decided against giving him everest for the journey, as it didn’t mix well with sickleseed. It was going to be a difficult and painful time for him.

  ‘Healer Kiraon,’ said Kest, coming alongside, ‘you will walk directly behind the bearers with your brother. We will stop regularly to change carriers, and rest for a short time at midday to eat. If all goes well, I expect to be at the caves by dusk, then we can stay there for as long as you deem necessary.’

  He paused, as if waiting for Kira to acknowledge his concession, but when she said nothing he continued, clearly irritated. ‘I want it understood, Healer Kiraon, that you are not to walk ahead, drop behind or diverge to either side. The configuration I’ve devised is the safest for all.’

  Kira got no pleasure from Kest’s annoyance. She fell into line behind the bearers but for a while nothing happened. Stinking heart-rot! If they must shift the wounded, let them get on with it! But having browbeaten her into submission, Kest appeared to be in no hurry to move, standing stolidly at the rear of the patrol, his attention on two of his men who were busy in a small clearing to his left.

  Wood cracked and presently a plume of black smoke rose, bringing with it the smell of burning fat.

  ‘What are they doing?’ she asked the Protector behind her.

  ‘Burning the Shargh.’

  Kira felt a surge of disgust. Surely the dead deserved to be treated with respect, even if they were the enemy? She strode back to Kest, ignoring his obvious displeasure at her breaking of formation.

  ‘He should be buried, Protector Leader, not burnt like firewood.’

  ‘Would you poison the earth with those who would murder you?’

  ‘I would not become as barbarous as they,’ she retorted.

  ‘You know much of healing, Healer Kiraon, but little of the Shargh. The Shargh gods live in the clouds, not in the earth, and they join their gods through fire. Would you rather we carried him back to Second Enogren, and buried him next to the Kenclan dead? I don’t think Clanleader Tenedren would be very pleased, do you?’

  Kira’s face flushed, and she looked away.

  ‘I take it that’s a no,’ said Kest more softly.

  Kira opened her mouth to retort but Kandor had appeared and was tugging at her arm.

  ‘Don’t,’ he croaked, drawing her back behind the bearers. ‘Kest’s tired and anxious, that’s why he’s behaving so.’

  ‘Kest’s insolent and overbearing, that’s why he’s behaving so,’ hissed Kira, not caring whether the Protector Leader heard her or not.

  If Kest had heard her, he made no sign, waiting impassively for the smoke to dwindle before ordering his men back into line. He gave a second order and the Protectors carefully picked up the wounded, then the small procession moved off.

  11

  Miken sat in the hall of his longhouse, contemplating the disorderly array of chairs around the table and the remains of his meal. His only companion was Maxen, the other members of the council and their escorts having departed some time ago to their own longhouses.

  Commander Sarkash had gone too, after receiving a message that Kest hadn’t remained at the Bough as ordered, but had set off in pursuit of Kira, Kandor and Tresen.

  Sarkash had been disconcerted by Kest’s actions, despite the Protector Leader leaving half his men guarding the Bough. He’d wandered about the hall in a dither till Miken eventually suggested he go back to the Bough to inform himself more fully of the happenings there.

  None of it augured well, thought Miken. Kest had done the only thing possible, given that his orders were to safeguard the Leader and his family, and it worried Miken that Sarkash hadn’t recognised this. Sarkash was methodical and hardworking and the men liked him, but what if that were no longer enough? What if the arrival of strangers in Allogrenia portended fighting? Leading men during warfare was very different to overseeing training and organising the storage of provisions.

  Maxen’s chair grated from the table, jerking Miken from his reverie. The Tremen Leader had received the news of the incursion with less outward emotion than the other Clanleaders, and he’d greeted the news of his children’s predicament equally calmly, more calmly than Miken, in fact. But Miken knew his clan-kin better than to think this denoted acceptance. Maxen had a habit of long, slow digestion of things that displeased him, a habit which seemed to increase the vitriol of his final response. Now, as he drew himself up, Miken braced for the tirade to come.

  ‘Undisciplined, undisciplined, undisciplined!’ the Tremen Leader spat.

  ‘I agree that Protector Leader Pekrash should have pursued the intruders rather than coming back to the Warens,’ responded Miken evenly. ‘It shows a gap in our defensive strategy that must be addressed.’

  ‘I don’t refer to Pekrash,’ snapped Maxen, ‘but to Kiraon.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Miken, watching Maxen pace to the window and back, reminding Miken of Kira at her most upset.

  ‘I expressly forbade her to leave the Arborean before the full moon but as soon as my back is turned, she sneaks away. And now she’s caused this,’ went on M
axen.

  ‘I don’t think Kira can be blamed for intruders coming to Allogrenia,’ said Miken.

  Maxen’s lips tightened. ‘I’ve never expected your support in matters concerning my daughter, Clanleader, and on that score I’ve never been disappointed.’

  Miken’s dislike of his clan-kin rose like gorge in his throat but he managed to swallow it down. ‘Perhaps Kira would benefit from female guidance,’ he said. ‘Many girls are wayward at that age. Maybe she should come and live here in her clan longhouse for a time. She’s always got along well with Tenerini, and she’s close to Mikini.’

  ‘Not as close as she is to Tresen.’

  Despite Miken’s best efforts, his voice sharpened. ‘What mean you?’

  ‘I need hardly remind you that they’re clanmates, Clanleader, and that he’s part of this jaunt as well,’ said Maxen, his face frigid.

  ‘Are you suggesting that their relationship goes beyond friendship?’

  Maxen shrugged and flicked his cape over his shoulders. ‘It’s no longer seemly that she goes about with him. She’ll be seventeen at Turning and needs to accept her responsibility for the smooth running of the Bough.’

  ‘But not for healing?’

  ‘I heal at the Bough,’ said Maxen, hefting on his pack, ‘ably assisted by Merek and Lern. There’s no need for a fourth Healer.’ He moved to the door. ‘I bid you goodnight, Clanleader.’

  ‘Commander Sarkash asked you to remain here until he could send an escort for you,’ Miken reminded him.

  ‘I’m the Tremen Leader. I have no need of an escort and no inclination to wait,’ said Maxen, then nodded curtly, pulling the door shut behind him.

  Miken went to the window and stood with his hands on his hips, watching Maxen’s hawkish form until it disappeared among the trees.

  ‘Undisciplined, undisciplined, undisciplined,’ he muttered.

  The small band of Protectors marched south-west, the scouts slipping through the trees ahead. The patrol moved faster than Kira liked and more slowly than Kest wanted. The land in this part of the Kenclan octad was hilly and heavily wooded, and where the trees thinned, bitterberry and tagenwort formed barriers, impeding their progress and making manoeuvring the bearers awkward. To add to their difficulties, the rain had grown heavier throughout the morning, trickling down their necks and slicking the windfall littering the slopes so that, despite their best efforts, the Protectors carrying the wounded slid and stumbled, jerking Feseren and Sanaken this way and that. Sanaken remained in his everest-induced stupor, but Feseren’s groans grew louder as the journey progressed.