Melforger (The Melforger Chronicles) (19 page)

BOOK: Melforger (The Melforger Chronicles)
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“It’s a root. A banyan root. The seed was probably deposited up there by a bird, and then it grew down here until it reached the ground. It slowly became thicker and thicker until now, it looks like this. See?”

The boy made an ‘o’ shape with his mouth. “So, are there lots of these banyans in the Forest?”

“Banyans are all over the Forest. You’d probably find that half the trees that grew here have been replaced by banyans. Very clever trees. Parasitic, killing off whatever they grow on. They’re opportunists and -” He pushed past the boy as a shout came from ahead. “Jover?”

“The stench!” Jover was stumbling back. “Comin’ from there where the ground dips down.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s the same smell as I smelt over on the sou’east patch. Exact same. It’s ‘orrible…” Jover took his flat cap off and held it over his mouth.

Vince walked cautiously forwards, peering around the ground, looking for any signs of a carcass or something dead. The rain was heavier now and drummed down through the canopy to splash on the open tangled path, running along the sloping ground in front of him. He walked forwards a bit more and then stopped where the smell was strongest. It was exactly where he was: the lowest section of the depression, but he couldn’t see anything.

He beckoned to Farley, rubbing the rain out of his eyes. “Well, we know it’s here. My guess is it’s buried.” He crouched down and looked around on the ground nearest him. “Jover, get one of the boys to bring me a spade, would you? I want to find out what it is before this rain washes it all away.”

 

.  .  .  .  .  .  .

 

That afternoon, the rain finally eased up somewhat and now just made a continual hissing sound on the canopy. Water streamed in rivulets down trees, and in-between the trunks there was a thick, drenching mist. The two boys sleepily watched as occasional heavy drops made little ring-shaped impressions in the dirt. Behind them, inside the hollow snag they were leaning against, the swishing echo of running water could be heard.

“Hello, boys.”

They both craned their heads up to see Tarvil approaching them and Cisco scrambled to his feet, uttering a quick, “Afternoon, Councilman Gency.”

Tarvil smiled back briefly in response and sat down next to them. “Crazy day, yesterday.”

“No kidding,” replied Raf. “How’s Jan this afternoon? Any better?”

“He’s holding on. Just. Problem is we’ve no idea what’s wrong with him. And until we do, we
can’t figure out how to help.”

The boys looked glumly forwards at this news.

Tarvil looked over at Cisco. “And how are you, Master Brunnow? Planning to travel soon?”

“For my sojourn? Absolutely!” responded Cisco. “I’ve already got it planned and everything.”

“Where’s your choice?”

“The idiot’s picked the most dull place he could find: Jaysonbury,” said Raf with a shake of his head.

Tarvil held a finger to his mouth thoughtfully. “I seem to remember a friend of mine sojourned there when we were your age. I can’t recall much about the place other than their reputation for strong rum, bear-wrestling and, if I remember correctly, the unusual occurrence of green-eyes – especially among the women.”

“Really?” asked Raf, grinning. He slowly turned to his friend and nudged him in his ribs. “Funny how you didn’t mention that bit to me.”

Cisco shrugged. “Only room for one, you see. Don’t need any competition.” He grinned mischievously at Raf. “You should be concentrating on things here, anyway.”

“What’s this?” asked Tarvil curiously.

“Nothing,” snapped Raf, giving Cisco a dark look. “He’s ta-”

“- your son, Councilman, has his greedy eyes on none other than Councilman Pereneson’s lovely daughter.”

“Rhani?”

Raf blushed bright red and picked up a piece of wood lying next to him, toying with it.

Tarvil smiled and then looked up on hearing a noise. “Aah,” he said quietly. “Prepare yourself, Raf.”

Raf’s head jerked up. “Rhani?”

“No. Your mother.”

Leiana came walking around an oak
Ancient’s
trunk side by side with the Foreman and when she caught sight of Tarvil and the boys, she made a bee-line for them.

“Good evening Councilwoman Gency, evening Foreman,” said Cisco, suddenly uncomfortable amidst all the authority.

“Tarvil, we’ve decided to send a party off when Orikon gets back.” She lifted a finger fiercely as she spoke, waving it around like a baton. “We must confront Brinchley directly and get to the bottom of this Festival nonsense.”

“Ma’am, will we get the Festival next year, at least?” asked Cisco.

“Of course.”

Tarvil added, “Assuming no permanent damage has been done to our relationship with Miern. A pity Jan hasn’t able to tell us more about what’s been happening in Three Ways before now.”

“Yes, that would certainly give us useful information, but we can’t wait. It may be that he doesn’t recover,” said Leiana.

The Foreman, in a bid to change the topic, looked down at Cisco and said, “I understand from your father that you’ve chosen Jaysonbury for your sojourn?”

“News travels fast, sir,” replied Cisco with a quick smile. “I have a cousin who lives in North Hordham and they’re going to help me out.”

Leiana nodded approvingly. “That sounds very good, Cisco. An interesting area with some lovely music. Their lutists
,
in particular, are known to be superb.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly why he’s going Mom, for the lutists,” mumbled Raf sarcastically.

“At least he is using his sojourn as a learning opportunity and not as a way to annoy people.”

“Mom, just leav-”

“-
and,
he has a decent chance of actually making it back alive,” she snapped.

“Leiana, dear, perh-”

“Don’t tell me to calm down, Tarvil! I’ll not have my son stroll off into danger. He will find no music there. He will find no culture there. He -” She spun around to stare as one of the
dholaki
suddenly began drumming a loud, energetic rhythm. “I do wish they’d be a little quieter,” she said through clenched teeth.

“Well, at least you’re getting some value for the money,” Raf muttered.

Her face tightened and a livid red bloomed on her cheeks. “How dare you, Raf…”

Tarvil, eyebrows furrowed. “What’s this?” 

“In case you didn’t know, mom paid those drummers already for the Festival. Seems a bit odd not to enjoy them,” said Raf.

“Paid?” said Tarvil.

The Foreman frowned. “I didn’t authorize that, Leiana. Whatever possessed you to use the village coffers for this? I’m sure we could have attracted many good musicians without having to pay.”

Leiana straightened her stole. “I didn’t use the village coffers, Foreman. I used our own.” Tarvil tilted his head at her questioningly. “I had to. Real iMahli
dholaki
for the first time in the Aeril Forest? Ever! People would’ve come from everywhere to see it!”

“Leiana, I really wouldn’t have allowed you t-”

“It wasn’t your call to make, Foreman, it was mine. You put me in charge of organizing the Festival, and this is what I saw fit to do. I would have covered my costs on the first day – in the first hour - if Brinchley and Allium hadn’t played foul!”

Raf looked down at the ground sullenly, a wave of guilt stealing over him. He hadn’t really meant to do it. It had just slipped out. A shadow cut across his feet and he saw a group of figures walk up to stand behind Leiana.

“Excuse me, Foreman?”

Leiana turned around, saw that it was Jover, and snapped, “No! Not now, Jover! We don’t have time to be talking about smells in the woods. The Foreman has a million more important things to sort out right now. Honestly!”

The old farmer stammered under her furious gaze, folding and unfolding his flat cap he held at his chest. Leiana turned her back on him again but Jover urged, “But, Cou-”

“What do you want?” Her voice rose as she put her hands on her hips. “Has the broccoli turned
orange
? Have the bees stopped buzzing? Can you not just speak to Vince about whatever it is this time?
Well?

“Ma’am, Vince is dead.”

 
 
 
20
.
CHALKINGS

 

 

 

“D
ead?”

Jover nodded and the Foreman stepped forward to take hold of his shoulders as the old man’s eyes welled with tears.

“Foreman,” said Farley from behind, “we were searching for the rotten smell, and we found a place where it was very strong. Councilman Ghitral was trying to find what it was, but the ground broke under him - it just opened up, and he fell through.”

“Broke under him?” Leiana’s voice was muffled as she clamped her hands tightly over her mouth.

“Yes, Councilwoman.”

“What could’ve happened?”

“That rotten smell, ma’am, is the trees. The branches underneath were all rotten, that’s what the smell was.”


Underneath
us?” hissed Nathyn.

“Raf,” said the Foreman quietly. “The chimes. Now.”

 

.  .  .  .  .  .  .

 

Raf didn’t let up thumping the beater against the huge wooden gong until he heard a faint shout over the booming peals.

“Oyyy!” yelled Cisco. “Quit! Everybody’s there now.”

Raf climbed down off the platform, removing the thick woolen ear muffs from his head. “The farmers as well?”

“Raf, I think there are people here from North Hordham! Trust me, you got everyone’s attention. Let’s just go, I want to find out what’s going on.”

They jogged over to the commons which was absolutely heaving with people standing shivering in the drizzle. The Foreman was standing silently next to a pale-faced Leiana while the rest of the Council spoke quietly amongst themselves to one side. Cisco and Raf made their way up through the crowd as the Foreman stood up and stared out at the faces.

“There has been a terrible incident. Vince Ghitral tragically died this morning.“ A wave of startled disbelief erupted from the gathered people and the Foreman held up his hands. “We are still trying to find out how it happened, but it seems there may be a strange disease affecting some of the trees. It’s very important that we work quickly to find out what the cause is and find a solution. Our homes – indeed, our very lives – may depend on it.” His booming voice echoed around the commons and every face tilted to hear what he was saying. “There have been some reports recently of a strong rotten smell around the Forest. I need to know if anyone else here has come across it around Eirdale.”

He watched the crowd as there was a quiet humming of people talking amongst themselves. A hand was raised in the middle and the Foreman nodded at him questioningly.

“I live up on the north-west side, Foreman and I’ve noticed something foul recently when I’ve been hunting maybe a mile or so out.”

“The north-west side you say?” asked the Foreman. “That’s where Vince died. Anyone else?” Another hand tentatively went up. “Damen? You’re over on the Northwest side as well, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir, but I didn’t smell it there, I smelt it on my way to my cousin’s home south-west of here
in Turner’s Grove. Something really nasty. Could never find what it was, though.”

The Foreman looked at him and exhaled through pursed lips.

Then Sikinos suddenly added, “Now that you mention it, Foreman, if we’re talking about something that really reeks, a few of the boys were talking to me about an odd smell on the east farms the other day. They just thought it was some dead animal.”

The Foreman lifted his arms once more. “Let’s do this, then. How many of you have smelt something rotten in the Forest recently, put up your hands.” A scattering of hands lifted in the crowd. “Right,” he said, “you lot, come here. The rest of you go home. I would seriously suggest that nobody moves far from the village until further notice.”

With that he jumped down to the ground.  “Raf, go to the Council rooms and bring me the map on the table and a piece of chalk,” ordered the Foreman.

Raf came back shortly with the map of Eirdale. The Foreman laid it out carefully on a sheltered table and asked the remaining people to plot out where they had smelt the decay with chalk. After the last person had marked it, the Foreman straightened out the map with four mugs and stood back.

Eirdale village was in the middle, a neat circular dwelling, and the chalk markings were in small clusters that roughly surrounded the village.

“This is incredibly bad,” muttered Dr Allid.

“But, thankfully, no mention of it within the village borders,” commented Dalton. “Or on the main paths, thankfully.”

“Well, what can we do?” demanded Leiana angrily. “There must be a remedy, surely?” She looked at Dr Allid who shook his head gravely.

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