need to regain your strength. Once you have strength back, we can begin to replenish your magic. But first, you must eat these.’
The smell of the berries reached his nostrils, piquant and tempting. He shivered with want. He clasped his hands together to keep from snatching at them. ‘No. I take nothing from you. The boy brought the gift to me. Let him present it to me. The honour of serving a Great Man is his.’
Nevare would have blushed to say such words. Nevare would never have claimed such importance for himself. But this was not Nevare, no matter how I might think of him in terms of ‘I’ and ‘me’. This was someone else, and I was only his silent shadow.
Olikea caught her breath. Her eyes narrowed and I thought she would challenge his words. Instead, she stood abruptly, turned on her heel and stalked away. Jodoli and Firada stared after her, but the boy’s full attention was on me. Awed by the honour, he dropped to his knees, the basket cradled in both his hands, and then walked on his knees towards me. The closer he came, the more compelling the smell of the food became. Soldier’s Boy did not take the basket from him, but dipped both hands in to fill them with berries and then raised the cupped berries to his mouth. In a very short time, the basket was empty. As Soldier’s Boy heaved a sigh of satisfaction, the boy’s face shone. He leapt to his feet, then seemed to recall he was in my presence and dropped back to his knees. On his knees, he again backed away from the forest mage and then once more rocketed onto his feet. ‘I know where there are yellow mushrooms,’ he exclaimed, and before Soldier’s Boy could respond, he spun about and dashed off.
My Speck self looked around. I had expected to find myself in a Speck village, but there were no shelters, no cook-fires, nothing to indicate that we were anywhere except in the wild heart of the mountain forest. ‘Where is everyone?’ I heard Soldier’s Boy ask, and realized the stupidity of his question. He took a breath. ‘Jodoli. How did I come to be here?’
He looked uncomfortable, but spoke bluntly. ‘You overspent your magic and fell, dying, near the end of the intruders’ road. One of the ancestor trees was shamed to see a Great Man perish so, untended and without a tree to take him in. He used what life was left to him to start the whispering. And Lisana, your sponsor, added her strength to make it a command. I was summoned, as was Olikea. Firada came with me to tend me. And Olikea brought Likari to run and fetch for her.
‘It was Olikea’s duty to bring you back into the shade for you had fallen in full sunlight. She and Likari were burned bringing you to safety, for even depleted, you were a heavy load for them to shift, and there was no time for them to weave shade-cloaks for themselves. Once you were beneath the shelter of the trees, Firada was able to help them. We brought you here, well away from the brightness. And Olikea set about doing what she could to revive you. I am surprised that you are restored even this much. Never have I seen a Great One so depleted.’
‘It was a foolish waste,’ Soldier’s Boy growled. He leaned back on the moss and looked up at the fragments of sky that showed through the dense canopy overhead. ‘All that magic consumed by futility. What I did may delay their cutting of the trees, but it will not stop it. And while it may frighten them, or puzzle them, I fear that it will only set their minds to working on how they can overcome it rather than make them give up their plan. I know the task of ridding our land of the intruders is mine; but I do not know how I am to accomplish it. That still eludes me.’
‘The magic does not give a man a task unless there is a way to do it,’ Jodoli said comfortingly. The words had the rhythm of an old saw.
‘Perhaps. But always I have been told that when you are on the right path, the magic lights the way and makes all clear. That has not happened with me, Jodoli. I am blind in the darkness, feeling my way through a task that does not seem to have a solution.’ It was strange to hear my voice without consciously deciding to speak. Very strange, and a tingle of dread ran along my nerves.
Jodoli looked acutely uncomfortable that Soldier’s Boy had confided his deficiency to him. I knew that Great Men seldom became close friends; they might be allies or more likely rivals. Power was to be shepherded for one’s own use, for the good of one’s kin clan. To admit to him that all my vast magic had been spent to no avail embarrassed Jodoli on my behalf. Soldier’s Boy knew there was no point in withholding that information from him. Perhaps he had some inkling of a solution to our woes.
But if he had, he did not share it then. ‘In time, the magic will reveal your task, I am sure,’ he said. He gave a sideways glance at Firada, and for the first time I noticed how shocked she was. The Great Ones did not admit ignorance, I suddenly knew. That Soldier’s Boy had done so frightened her; the Specks looked to their Great Ones for leadership and guidance. Was not the magic of the forest in them, showing them what they must do? For him to admit that he felt no such inspiration from the magic frightened her. What if not even the magic could halt the flow of the intruders? What if even the Great Ones of the Specks could not save them? He regretted his words.
‘I am sure it will. I am only tired and discouraged, and thus spoke as I did.’
‘Of course. Eat and restore yourself and all will be well.’
Soldier’s Boy shook my head ruefully. ‘It will be days before I have restored even a third of my bulk, and months before I can amass that much magic again. It was a terrible waste.’
‘Why did you do it?’ Jodoli asked.
Soldier’s Boy shook his head mutely. It was already a mistake to have confided in Jodoli as much as he had. If he told Firada and Jodoli that the ignorant Gernian part of him had done it, it would only confuse them. Possibly it would turn them against him. He could not let that happen. I was beginning to suspect that if he were to accomplish his task, it would require all the support he could muster. And all the strength.
A wave of hunger washed through him again, and he was suddenly aware of a terrible thirst. ‘Is there more water?’ he asked.
‘In that skin there, perhaps,’ Jodoli said stiffly. He gestured at it, but did not move to pass it to me. I sensed another misstep on Soldier’s Boy’s part. Jodoli was not his feeder, to see to his basic needs. Firada stood motionless at his side, well aware that it was not her place to offer him anything. He heaved our body to a sitting position and managed to reach the waterskin. It was not full but there was some in it. He drank it down and then asked plaintively, ‘Where is that boy? What is his name again?’
‘Likari,’ Firada said. ‘My nephew’s name is Likari.’
The water had helped but it was still difficult to keep his thoughts fixed on anything but his hunger. ‘Your nephew. I thought perhaps he was a younger brother.’
‘No. He is my nephew. Olikea’s son.’
I tried to keep the dismay from my face. ‘I did not know she was married.’ I had to slip into Gernian to find the word I needed.
Firada looked puzzled. There was no such concept in Speck society. Nevare’s guilt at sharing sex with a married woman had briefly spilled over into my Speck self. ‘What is this “married”?’ Firada asked. She spoke the word as if it might indicate a disease.
‘A word from another place and time,’ Soldier’s Boy said airily. I sensed his discomfort that I’d been able to influence his thoughts and words. ‘It means that she is devoted to a man. Dedicated enough to bear his child.’
Firada wrinkled her brow. ‘I do not remember who fathered Likari. Olikea probably knows. She was barely a woman when she decided to have him, and quickly wearied of caring for him. She only pays attention to him when he can be useful to her.’
Nevare’s
