'Many winters ago,' he began, 'the clans turned their backs on the True Way.'
People hung their heads. Some of the Aurochs scratched their faces to reopen their wounds.
'They were punished,' said the Mage. 'Whole clans died out. Roe Deer. Beaver. Oak. Since then, more evils have assailed the people of the Deep Forest. All have been caused by outsiders by unbelievers who spurn the Way.'
That's not right, thought Renn.
'Three winters ago,' said Thiazzi, his voice swelling like the wind in the pines, 'an Open Forest trickster duped the Red Deer into sheltering him, then repaid them by creating the demon bear.'
People hissed and shook their fists.
'Two summers ago, the people of the Open Forest sent the sickness and the tokoroths . . . '
No we didn't, thought Renn, it was the Soul-Eaters!
' . . . only our vigilance kept them from the True Forest.'
Axes were shaken in triumph, spears beaten on shields. Rapt, painted faces drank it in.
'The winter before last, the Ice clans sent hordes of demons to invade us. Last spring, the Otters tried to drown us in a flood.'
This is all lies! Renn shouted in her head.
'This spring, outsiders stole our children and sent the great fire to destroy us. They failed!'
The shield-rattling intensified.
'Until now, we have only resisted! But now . . . ' He swept round the ring of torches, 'Now we must fight! All evils come from outsiders! They seek to destroy us because we follow the Way, but we of the Deep Forest the True Forest we shall unite! We shall rise and crush the Open Forest!'
The roar that burst from every throat shook the pines and hammered the stars.
'Cast off your headbands!' bellowed the Mage. 'Embrace your Deep Forest brothers and unite against the outsiders!'
In a frenzy, headbands were torn from brows. Auroch ran to embrace Bat, Forest Horse touched foreheads with Lynx. Beneath the scarlet tree, the Mage watched from behind his painted mask.
Suddenly, he raised both arms for silence.
People shrank back behind the torches.
'Never forget,' said Thiazzi in a voice of subtle menace, 'that the malice of outsiders is sleepless.' He paused. 'I bring proof. I bring you the very menace itself: the Open Forest spy who sought to destroy us by releasing the great fire.'
Three men bore a bundle into the ring and threw it at the feet of the Mage.
Renn made out a struggling figure entangled in a net. She bit back a cry.
The figure groaned.
It was Torak.
TWENTY-SIX.
The net was wrenched open, and Torak staggered to his feet. He stood with legs braced, hands tied behind his back. Renn saw blood on his face and bruises on his chest. She saw how he swayed.
Raising his head, he looked straight at her. His eyes widened.
She mouthed his name, but he frowned. Stay out of this.
'On your knees.' A Forest Horse woman put her spear to his back and forced him down. She had a mistrustful face tattooed with holly leaves, and green lips tight with anger. A horse's tail cascaded over her hair, and Renn guessed she was the Leader. She bowed low to her Mage.
Thiazzi accepted the homage in silence, but Renn caught the glint of eyes behind his mask, and thought, he's enjoying this.
'Mage,' said the Leader. 'Here is the evil one who tried to destroy the True Forest. I've seen him before. Two summers ago, we caught him trying to poison us with the sickness.'
'I was seeking the cure,' said Torak. He sounded spent.
'We should have hung him then,' said the Leader. 'We should make good the mistake.'
People rattled spears on shields in violent assent.
Renn threw herself forward, but two hairy paws held her back. 'Stay silent,' the old Auroch man hissed in her ear. 'You'll only make it worse.'
Releasing her, he took the speaking-staff from his Leader and shambled forwards. 'But if we kill him,' he said, 'we break clan law. Our Mage, the Auroch Mage, wouldn't sanction this.'
'To kill an unbeliever is to do good.' Thiazzi's powerful voice filled the clearing. 'And this is no ordinary unbeliever. See the scar on his chest where he tried to conceal his evil nature. See the tattoo on his brow. The mark of the outcast.'
This was too much for Renn. 'He isn't outcast any more!' she cried. 'Fin-Kedinn took him back, all the clans agreed!'
'The Deep Forest never agreed,' replied the painted mask. 'The Raven Leader sought to change clan law. Clan law cannot be changed.'
'Except by you,' said Torak.
'Be silent!' hissed the Forest Horse Leader.
Torak raised his head and glared at Thiazzi. 'You break clan law whenever you want. Don't you, Thiazzi?'
Puzzled faces turned to the Mage.
'Slaughtering hunters,' Torak went on. 'Murdering my father. My bone kin . . . '
'Silence!' shrilled the Forest Horse Leader. 'How dare you insult our Mage!'
'He's not your Mage,' Torak flung back as he struggled to his feet. 'He's a Soul-Eater.'
Howls of outrage from the crowd, but Thiazzi was triumphant. 'By his own mouth he condemns himself! Here's proof of his wickedness!'
'What's wrong with you all?' thundered Torak.
Trees stirred. Torches flickered. Even the Forest Horse Leader stepped back.
With his scarred chest and glittering eyes, Torak looked terrifying and exactly what Thiazzi had said he was. 'Have you forgotten how to think?' he bellowed at the crowd. 'Doesn't it seem odd that your new Mage has suddenly grown so war-like? Can't you see that he's not one of you?'
Renn had never seen him so angry. His rage was like the freezing white fury of the ice bear, and it frightened her. It frightened the others, too.
Thiazzi's laugh broke the spell. 'See how desperate he is! He knows he is condemned!'
Relief shuddered through the crowd. The Mage had restored their certainty.
'I've heard enough for judgement,' declared Thiazzi. 'An outcast in the True Forest is an insult to the World Spirit. This is why the Spirit stays away. The outcast must die.'
The wind got up. The red tree sighed.
Renn stood aghast.
Torak stared stonily at Thiazzi.
'Although,' said the old man, still holding the staff, 'if this truce is to stand, the Auroch Mage must also agree.'
That brought his clan to their senses, and they watched to see how the Forest Horse Mage would respond.
Torchlight played on the wooden face. Behind it, Renn sensed the racing thoughts. He wanted Torak dead, and soon. But if he snubbed the Aurochs, he risked a riot and the ruin of his plans.
'Of course he must agree,' Thiazzi said between his teeth. 'Tonight, the Auroch Mage keeps to his prayer shelter, as I shall keep to the sacred grove. Each clan shall paint a tree with earthblood. When both Mages return, and if we are of one mind, the outcast shall die.'
Torak woke to a raging thirst.
Horsehair ropes constricted his wrists and ankles. His bruises throbbed, his head ached. Drifting in and out of wakefulness, he tried to work out where he was. A cramped shelter. Roots against his cheek . . .
He jolted awake. They had laid him beneath the scarlet tree. Soon they would hang him from it.
He couldn't see how he was going to get out of this. How long did it take to paint a tree red? That was how long he had.
He thought of Renn. She didn't look as if she'd been beaten, so maybe they would let her live. If only she didn't try to help him.
And Wolf? He saw Wolf if he was still alive seeking him through the charred Forest. Lost, bewildered, howling for his pack-brother. Never getting an answer.
Helpless, Torak slid into a blazing sea of thirst.
Someone was holding his head, pouring water into his mouth.
He coughed and spluttered. His tongue was swollen, he couldn't swallow. 'Don't stop,' he pleaded. It came out a meaningless mumble.
Birch bark was rough against his lips, and a cool hand supported the back of his head. Water coursed down his throat, soaking into his flesh like a flood drenching sun-cracked earth.
'How do you feel?' whispered Renn.
'Better,' he croaked. It wasn't true, but it would be soon. Shutting his eyes, he felt strength stealing into his limbs, while Renn sawed the ropes at his wrists with her beaver-tooth knife. 'Wolf,' he muttered.
'I saw him yesterday. He's fine.'
'Thank the Spirit. What about '
'The ravens are fine, too. Try to sit up, we've got to be quick.'
'How did you manage this?' he asked as she started on his ankles.
'I didn't,' she said tersely. 'Everyone's asleep, I don't know why. It's as if they've taken a sleeping-potion. It can't last much longer.'
Biting down on the pain, Torak rubbed the feeling back into his wrists, while Renn washed the blood off his face and told him how Thiazzi had declared a truce among the clans. 'He must've tricked the Auroch Mage, and now he's got them all in his power.' She paused. 'Torak, this is much bigger than we thought. He's turning them against the Open Forest.'
He was trying to take that in when they heard a noise outside. A sleepy murmur, horrifyingly close. A rustle of wovenbark that subsided in a snore.
When all was quiet again, Torak breathed out. 'Why didn't they tie you up too?'
Renn strapped her knife to her calf and yanked her legging over it. 'They're scared of me . . . Because I'm a Mage.'
He met her eyes in the red darkness. Her face was sternly beautiful, and a shiver ran down his spine.
Then she was his friend again, reaching behind her and thrusting a pair of buckskin boots at him. 'I stole them from a Lynx. They'd better fit.'
As he pulled them on, she peered from the shelter. 'Can you walk?'
'I'll have to.'
The moon had set and the torches had burned out; both camps were dark and still. Around the shelter, four hunters sprawled asleep beside their weapons. Their breathing was so faint that at first Torak thought they were dead. He grabbed a bow and a quiver, jammed an axe in his belt.
Crossing the open ground to the torches seemed to take for ever. His head throbbed. Pain flared in his bruised limbs at every step. Renn vanished into the shadows, and he thought he'd lost her. She reappeared with her bow and a quiver, and pressed something into his hands. It was his knife.
'How did you '
'I told you, they're all asleep!'
At last they were past the Auroch camp, huddled behind a clump of junipers. Renn leaned close, her hair tickling his cheek. 'They brought me here blindfold, I don't know where we are. Do you?'
He nodded. 'We came in dugouts. The Blackwater's about twenty paces over there. We'll take a boat and head upriver. Then we leave the boat and cross into the next valley, that's the valley of the horses. From there it's straight to the sacred grove.'
She frowned. 'Let's get to the boats.'
They reached the river without mishap, and found a line of dugouts drawn up on the bank. Quietly, they pushed the end boat into the shallows, and Torak climbed in. The pain of his bruises was gone, numbed by the thrill of the chase. 'The current's not strong,' he said softly. 'If we paddle hard, we might even overtake him.'
Renn stood in the shallows with her boots strung around her neck, but made no move to get in. 'Torak. Turn the boat around.'