The King's Tribe Page 4

  “Have you had any travellers turn up at your village recently?” Becker says in gruff, hushed tones, barely audible to myself as I crane up against the side of Arthur’s window. I am submerged in thick brambles which tear at my skin and add to the collection of holes in my shirt.

  Old untamed curiosity had led me to pursue the men back to Arthur’s home, it had been foolishly dangerous to do so and yet some instinct told me that this was important and would be worth the risk. I am extremely well hidden in my spot at the moment anyway, having used it a few times recently to drop in on the meetings about Guy. I had left my mother and Alice consoling Ben, and Guy to help rescue anything of value from the smouldering remains. They would be safe for now, fortunately all the colony men are in front of me with Arthur.

  A dull thump followed by a deep groan.

  “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be Arthur, travellers, strangers, anyone new?” Becker whispers aggressively.

  “Course we have,” Arthur croaks, “merchants, people from the other villages, we- we get them all the time,” he stammers.

  “Anyone new?!” asks Becker.

  “No. Nobody.”

  I exhale slowly, suddenly aware that I had stopped breathing for the last couple of minutes. Arthur wouldn’t have forgotten about Guy; he’d been checking in on him several times a day. Of course, it is an unspoken rule that you never helped the colony but still, this was a big lie to tell, and the colony are not known to be forgiving. This is more than not helping the colony, this is outright going against them, if he’s caught lying then he would be made a very public example of.

  Is he protecting Guy? Of course he is, those taken to the colony were seldom seen again. But why did they want him? Whilst I admire his loyalty, I am also surprised that he thinks Guy worthy of such a risk, we still know nothing about him.

  “You’re certain? Nobody?” Becker persists, “Fine, we’re staying the night and I want everyone gathered for me at dawn.” Without another word he storms out of the room, presumably to uproot some poor families for the night and take their homes for himself and his men. A couple of them stay behind to invade Arthur’s quarters and keep him under close supervision.

  I am probably the closest thing to a friend that Guy has and even I don’t know where he comes from. In fact, he is still keeping with his vow of silence. How can we trust him? Then again, maybe he could be useful? I follow this line of thought for another couple of seconds, wondering if the mystery boy could be some threat or criminal in the eyes of the colony, maybe we could help each other. Obviously, Arthur thinks the boy is worth protecting, and likewise the colony believe him worth pursuing. Guy’s story intrigues me now more than ever.

  The boy came from the forest, that was all we knew. He came from the forest, and either he had been there for a long time, or something serious had happened to reduce him to the state the hunters had found him in. Surely Becker and his men will be checking around other villages for Guy, I suppose we’ll know soon if he’s from any of them.

  Perhaps…everyone knew you didn’t go too far into the forest, people went in and never came out, and of course there were the attacks. The spear that had killed my father, someone must have thrown it. There were rumours, wood nymphs and similar. Myths and legends of tree men and forest gods and sprites were often the only words spoken as we huddle together in numbers trying to pull through the long winters.

  Then again, he could be something more sinister, with him sleeping next to my bed that concern is always present. Perhaps a murderer, some traitor to the colony who had fled their community leaving bodies behind him. Surely not? He hasn’t shown any inclination to hurt any of us yet. Granted, we rescued and fed him, but there hasn’t even been a hint of violence from him since he got here. Certainly, despite the fact that he is still recovering, he could have taken the axe earlier and attacked myself and Robyn without too much difficulty. I doubt the pair of us would have been able to stop him if he had chosen to wrestle the weapon off me.

  No. Instinct urges me to trust him, and my trust in Arthur is without question.

  Forcing my imagination to reign itself back in, I slowly untangle myself and set off at a run back to the dying embers of the farmhouse. If Arthur’s claimed that the boy has never arrived at Avlym, I need to get him out of here for both of their sakes. There will undoubtedly be a thorough search of the homes in the morning and the people will be interrogated. Most of the people should support Arthur’s lie if they know of it, but as he’ll remain under surveillance until that time, I’ll have to try and spread the word.

  I run as fast as I dare in the dark, clearing a path straight through the field back towards where my mother still huddles beside Bruce, embracing him as he kneels defeated next to his beloved. A large crowd has gathered now, the whole village attempting to help in any way that they can. They are either trying to comfort Bruce, rescue possessions from the wreckage, or by waging war against the fire itself. They are organised, banding together, and unified once more in their hatred for the colony.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  A few meters away, most of the village battles the flames, desperate to salvage as much of the wreckage as possible. Robyn and Randall stand at the fire’s edge, dragging what they can to safety and dousing the rest with the water which is ran to them by Guy and some of the hunters.

  “They want Guy,” I pant to my mother as she relinquishes her embrace of the farmer, not that he seems to notice, grief and hurt owns his expression as he stares into some unseen abyss.

  I hurriedly catch her up on Arthur’s interrogation from Becker. I can only watch as pain, confusion, and worry fight for control of my usually unbowed and unbroken rock of a mother. I can see the indecision swimming before her eyes as she tries to process all I’ve just thrown at her, remembering the incriminating evidence in our home.

  “Go,” she whispers, “hide him in the forest, we can’t let Becker see him or we’re all in trouble, especially Arthur.” She promises to try and spread the word of Arthur’s deception as far as possible, which hopefully shouldn’t be too difficult given that the entirety of the village is currently in front of her.

  I hastily make my way over to Guy, trying to keep my pace normal just in case any of Becker’s men are watching from a distance. I roughly drag him by the arm after me, thankfully he doesn’t resist. The wreck is gently glowing now, little more can be done now anyway. All salvageable goods lay in a pile far off to one side, watched over by Ida who once more also keeps an eye on the kids as their parents aid the village.

  Carefully, we walk away from the village until we can pick up the speed when I am confident that we are hidden from the lights. As soon as we are properly protected behind the cover of the forest, I take off running, careful to avoid the branches, ditches, and shrubbery only faintly illuminated by the moonlight. Guy easily keeps stride.

  “They’re looking for you,” I feel his eyes bore into me as we run, “the ones who set the fire, they’re from the colony,” I pant and halt. We have reached the spot where only hours before we had scoured the bushes for berries.

  “Who are you?” I question, but my only reply is the ever-permanent silence. “Where are you from?” my voice has risen as loud as I dare, we’re deep into the forest now but I am unwilling to risk anything louder. Guy stares back at me but remains mute. I don’t have time for this, I need to get back to Alice and my mum, even from here I can see the faint glow of the village, lights would normally be long extinguished by this time, but I doubt anyone will be sleeping tonight.

  I round back to Guy, my face a contortion of frustration, and instruct him to stay and tuck himself away in the shadows. Finally, I am met with some sign of comprehension as he darts through the trees and vanishes from sight.

  By the time I reach the outer fields, the first signs of day have begun to reach the outer buildings. I need to grab some food and supplies for Guy, as ungrateful as he may appear, he’s still under our care and with Becker and his men here wh
o knows when, or indeed if, he’ll be able to come back to the village.

  I creep around the edges of Avlym, occasionally nipping between huts to stay concealed but keeping clear of candlelight. I also take care to duck under any windows and move silently, I didn’t get to see where Becker and the rest of his men invaded last night and they could be waking up any moment in the homes right next to me for all I know.

  The rotten slab of wood vaguely resembling a door creaks open painfully loudly as I cross the threshold back into the safety of my own home. I swiftly cover the straw and dirt plastered floor to my mother who lay protectively embracing my sister. Her eyes flutter as I approach, and her underfed frame carefully removes itself from the sheets. She’s already alert and looks as though she has only been asleep for a matter of minutes.

  As I heard last night, Becker has called a town gathering as soon as possible by the fire pits, presumably to discuss what I’d heard at Arthur’s window with the rest of the village. My mother seems confident that word should have spread, and hopefully even those ears her words haven’t reached should be attached to brains smart enough to join in on the effort and support the lie. I am also relieved to hear that although the colony men have invaded a few huts and caused a bit of upset, no one else has been hurt. As she says this, a wheezed snore alerts me to Bruce who slumbers on a makeshift bed in the corner.

  After hearing my plans my mother tries to persuade me to stay in the village, now that the sun is rising it’s going to be a lot riskier disappearing into the forest, and incredibly hard to explain if I get caught, especially now that a mandatory meeting has been called.

  Eventually we compromise in my promise to hurry back and she scouts the street before ushering me out with a couple of small loaves of bread and a full waterskin. The extent of her generosity never ceases to amaze me, we’ll struggle for the next few days, but Guy will need the food more than we do. Alice stirs quietly behind her and I immediately feel guilty for leaving the two of them alone this morning of all mornings.

  The barley stings my bare shins as I head once more towards the forest, behind me I catch the risings of the earliest of the village residents and once or twice my ears prick up towards disturbances that sound worryingly close, urging me to hasten and reach the protection of the treeline as quickly as possible.

  After crossing into the shade of the overhead canopy I head straight for the clearing, startling smaller creatures underfoot and disrupting bird songs. Normally this kind of behaviour would be reckless, the birds taking flight and the prey darting away from me may as well be a map to my location for the morning hunters. Whilst they would surely greet me with open arms, I could nevertheless do without the inevitable questions on my doing here that would immediately follow.

  I must be lucky however as no faces emerge from the emerald thickness, then again, it’s completely reasonable to assume that the daily actions of the village are a little off from the normal routine. Perhaps the hunters have been busy keeping an eye on the colony men, or maybe they are simply nervous about missing the gathering this morning. As they should be. Any absences will unquestionably lead to a private interrogation from Becker. Such encounters tend to end in blood, even if you give him exactly what he wants. There are far too many villagers with backs decorated by the strokes of one of his lashes. This thought spurs me onwards and a moment later I emerge into the clearing in which I left Guy.

  He is nowhere to be seen. Good. I told him to hide, I would have been more worried if he had been sitting in the middle of the grass waiting for me. I quietly call his name but still there’s no reply. That’s more worrying.

  I quickly scan the area; no peculiar forest boys make themselves apparent. Thankfully I’ve been out with Randall a few times and my eyes pick up tracks and broken branches. My heart quickens. On the edge of the clearing one of the bushes has clearly been charged through, broken berries staining the grass below. I take off in rapid pursuit, eyes fixed ahead ready for any threats.

  The soil slowly gets damper and visible footprints begin to paint my path as I near one of the many nearby streams regularly used for fish trapping. I can hear running water now...and grunting.

  I break through one last patch of thorns and tumble sprawling onto the riverbank, the waterskin and bread flying out from beneath my arms. I turn to see what tripped me and find Landen. He lay whimpering with his head propped against the base of an oak, cradling a clearly useless arm. Through eyes clouded by pain I am shot a look of pure hatred, but thankfully he poses no threat to me in his current position. Still, it takes a second to get over the shock of seeing him here, not only because of his injury but I’m also surprised he’d risk Becker’s wrath.

  Further splashes and grunts force my attention back to the stream. Guy is balancing on the rocks on the edge of the water, being cornered back by Rhys and Harvey. Rhys forces Harvey to approach first, whose apprehension towards his considerably taller adversary is rewarded with a strong kick to the sternum. He flies backwards, tumbling into a patch of rushes.

  Rhys takes his opportunity, tackling Guy around the waist and using his weight to take them both to the shallow riverbed. Guy, considerably nimbler than the fat-laden boy grappling him, has disentangled himself and is on his feet with a small rock in his fist before the bully has a chance to raise his arms.

  “STOP!” I scream, and Guy pauses, his murderous intent momentarily turned towards me before relief and recognition visibly floods through him. Sense and humanity restore behind his eyes. The arm slowly drops to one side and the rock tumbles out of a now soft grip with a gentle splash.

  He doubles over.

  A sharp upward blow has knocked the wind from him as Rhys rises and kicks him onto his back. I dart forwards as Rhys’ foot connects with Guy’s head, sending it rocketing towards another rock on the bank. Forgetting my size and that of the opponent before me I charge Rhys, aiming a shoulder into his gut.

  Meaty fists grab my shirt and hurl me forwards, using what little momentum I had against me. Spluttering, I pick myself out of the bank, my blood tainting the water around my knees. Rhys stands there panting, preparing to begin his next assault. Harvey, who has impressively managed to rise after Guy’s strike, shouts his support from behind but makes no move to join Rhys’s side.

  Guy stirs feebly in the mud, shock struggling through dim eyes. A worrying amount of scarlet surrounds his pale face, leaking from a nasty gash on his forehead and joining a small trickle coming from the corner of his mouth. A few of his newly healed cuts have also reopened, their scabs having been scraped off in the brawl.

  A bloated face of cold fury approaches me, and then vanishes, replaced by pure fear. Rhys has stopped in his tracks, momentarily staring at some point above me before turning on one heel, losing his footing and almost snapping an ankle over the loose stones. He rushes for the greenery, barrelling into Harvey. Turning the shade of milk, Harvey follows suit, attempting to yank the still whimpering Landen after him as he passes, resulting in another scream of pain. Regardless Landen rises to his feet, wearing yet again the same expression as Rhys, and stumbles briefly before being swallowed by the forest.

  I match his footsteps exactly; I’ve never been this deep into the forest before and everyone knows there are various traps hidden all over the place by the demons. Of course, upon seeing the stranger in front of me I have no idea what to believe.

  It was a hunter who had scared off Rhys, a bald, topless, monstrous man covered in odd swirling tattoos and aged scars, he carries a bow in his left hand and has slung Guy, who almost instantly fell into unconsciousness, over his opposite shoulder. He carries the boy effortlessly, his pace unaffected by the extra weight.

  I haven’t the faintest idea who he is, but I have no choice but to follow. I know I cannot just leave Guy and let his fate be dictated by this stranger.

  Besides, the hunter could have easily killed us by now if he had wanted to, a small comfort but surely that’s got to count for something. Perhaps he’s a h
unter for one of the neighbouring villages, he’s a little far from his own territory but it’s not uncommon for hunters to occasionally cross borders whilst getting carried away in the pursuit of some wild boar. Such accidents have led to some violent confrontations in the past, perhaps it is for the best that I am not armed, and Guy is unconscious. There’s no chance that we could be a threat.

  With a sickening feeling in my stomach I remember my promise to my mother to be hasty. She will be beside herself with worry now, surely the meeting has started by now. I almost stop dead in my tracks. The meeting. Rhys might tell them everything! They’ll have to explain Landen’s arm. Would they really lie and therefore protect me? Or is their hatred for the two of us enough to forsake Avlym and reveal all to Becker? Surely not the village, but the colony men would certainly mark me as a traitor. I just hope that Becker leaves my mother and Alice out of all this. I know the village will try and protect them as much as they can, but if the colony wanted to, they could reduce our village to rubble, let alone take a mother and her daughter.

  Briefly I consider turning back and sprinting to my mother’s aid. It wouldn’t take too long to get there, but no I tell myself, that would do more harm than good. I would just incriminate them and we’d all be convicted. So long as I’m not there, my mum has some degree of deniability of knowing anything about Guy. Surely Rhys and the lackeys wouldn’t condemn the whole village. Would they hand me over? Certainly, I gave up on any hope of the bully having humanity or morality where I’m concerned a long time ago, but is it too much to hope that he’d leave my family out of it?

  My mouth dry and palms sweaty as I trudge along lost in my own thoughts, I nearly walk into the back of the hunter, narrowly avoiding headbutting Guy. We are next to the water again, a fair way upstream from where the incident with Rhys had happened. A large heap of branches is assembled off to one side.