The Volunteer (The Bone World Trilogy) (16 page)

"I don't like it,"
Wallbreaker said. "Planted creatures will grab at us as we run
past. And what about all our food? What about the pregnant women?
What about the Tallies?"

Aagam sneered. "All this
superstitious
junk. Pregnant women and sticks! You are worse than the
Religious
in the Roof. Just leave them behind. That is the answer you are
looking for."

"Leave... the pregnant
women?"

"For the love of the gods,
you're savages! That's what you do, that's what you're supposed to
do! Sacrifice the weak so the strong can eat better, right? That's
what it's all about!"

"It's about the
Tribe
,"
said Wallbreaker. "About getting Home." No human, no real
human could accept the loss of his people. They bustled all around
him as they had done his whole life. Both his mother and his father
had stepped forward proudly with thousands of days still to live. The
very thought of abandoning the tally sticks, of a Tribe with no
pregnant women amongst it to name the children, was abhorrent. Both
past and future abandoned! No, no. And then, the pitiful survivors to
throw themselves on their knees and beg mercy from a tribe of
strangers that included Indrani, his unfaithful wife? Why would those
strangers not simply volunteer him and his people? It's what he had
planned for them, after all!

Aagam scowled and wagged a finger
in his face. "You still care about home, Chief? Even after I
explained to you where it was? What that phrase really meant?"

"It's what it means to us
now that matters."

"Oh, as if you, the great
Wallbreaker, really care about any of that! I've seen you from above,
Chief
.
You can't hide from the Roof. Everyone up there knows you're a
coward. I've been counting on it. Yes, counting on it! Above all
else. Above even your dirty little tribe of cannibals, above your...
your
home
,
you want to live. It's as simple as that, and I, Aagam, am here to
grant your wish.

"So, listen to me, Chief.
Listen. We make a run through the middle of the planted creatures.
The slow will do as they've always done—"

"We
never
volunteer pregnant women."

"Well, that's about to
change, isn't it? The Ancestors are going to send you a new
vision
,"
he grinned fiercely. "The Ancestors will tell these women to
volunteer so the rest of us can make it
home
,
but, get this:
home
is going to be the other side of the hills. You'll tell them that's
where it always was, and now, you'll be bringing them right to it,
yes?"

"One moment, Aagam,"
Wallbreaker said. He fished around for a good Armourback shell spear.
Then, he stabbed his shocked adviser with it in the arm—no
farther than the depth of a thumb. The weapon was free again and
blood welling out of Aagam's flesh before he could so much as yelp.
"I want you to see that I am serious."

"I—"

Another quick stab with the
spear. "From this day forth, you will speak only when I ask
direct questions. Yes, you have convinced me there is no point in
torturing you, but
I
have decided I quite like it."

The man's mouth opened once more,
but before he could utter a word, the spear was nestling gently under
his chin. "I don't want any plans from you. You will tell me
what you know about the Diggers. What they're afraid of. What will
hurt them. What they want. Wives? I will give you wives and your life
because I like to know things. But
I
will do the planning here.

"Now, the Diggers, Aagam.
What are their weaknesses?"

Aagam surprised him by spitting
at him and grinning. "You are an idiot—" he grunted
as the spear drew more blood. Sweat was pouring down his face.
"You'll need to stab a little deeper, Chief. But where's the
need? I'll tell you what you want to know. I'm sweet natured, after
all." He smiled again, his blood dripping onto the moss and his
filthy clothing, the sweat rolling down his face. "The Diggers,"
he said, "fear fire and light."

"Fire and light? We have
seen them even at midday. Not often, but still..."

"Take the spear away."

"Answer me, or you die."

"I doubt it."

Wallbreaker put the weapon away
and even handed the stranger a cloth of pounded moss to staunch his
wounds.

"They don't fear for
themselves," said Aagam. "That's why you'll see some of
them wandering in the full glare of the Roof. It's the grubs that
will die after too much exposure to heat and light. The grubs. Those
little darlings feed on their parents until the adult can find
another host for them instead."

"By the Ancestors! They eat
their own parents?" It explained so much. Everybody knew by now
how difficult it was to kill the poor creatures planted in the
fields. The grubs had a way of keeping them alive right up until the
end and, according to tales Wallbreaker had heard, adult Diggers too
had been seen "coming back to life," crawling away from the
hunters that had "killed" them. The grubs must have been
responsible for all of that.

"Yes," Aagam nodded.
"The greedy little darlings have their parents in constant
torment, yet the adults who are... blessed by motherhood, avoid light
and heat at all costs. Even unmated Diggers have an instinct to keep
away from flames."

"So, we can simply surround
ourselves with torches and cross the fields?"

"Do you really think it's
that easy, Chief? These are intelligent creatures we are dealing
with. I imagine they are well aware of their own fears. Remember,
they have already consumed fire-wielding tribes far larger than
yours. Every time they do it, they learn new lessons and grow more
numerous."

"What about my brother? How
did
he
get past them? You said he went a longer way around." Of all his
tribe, Wallbreaker alone knew Stopmouth had been no fool. Shy, yes.
Nervous and jealous too. Incapable of putting two words together
without biting the tongue out of his own head. But no idiot.

Aagam grinned, taking great
pleasure in the next bit. "Your runaway wife told him to tie
some old trees together. Then, they floated down the Wetlane until
they had passed almost to the far side of Digger territory. She
helped
him. She helped him every step of the way."

Wallbreaker grabbed the spear
again. His face grew hot. "You know she was kidnapped. Stopmouth
must have forced her to tell him what to do."

The grin grew only wider. To
avoid killing the man, Wallbreaker moved his gaze off to where his
daughter played among the trees. She had found a little boy and was
attempting to boss him around. "How like your mother," he
said fondly. Humans had come across creatures, such as the
Hairbeasts, that did not love their offspring, but the Diggers were
not among them, it seemed. There must be a way of using that to get
to the hills with the main strength of the Tribe intact.

The light of the Roof flickered
and everybody held their breaths, but this time the Blindness lasted
less than a heartbeat and Wallbreaker chose to take that as a good
sign. It was getting better up there, whatever the sickness was.
Everything was going be all right.

It
was no work for a man to be doing, but none of the hunters objected.
And even some of the children were involved, cutting brushwood and
pulling down trees. They were carving a path through the forest,
straight from the Tribe's camp and out into Digger territory.

"It's got to be as wide and
as smooth as possible," the Chief said.

He even came out to supervise and
people worked harder under his gaze. For once, he had explained his
plan to them in detail and nobody wanted to be counted among the
slackers for fear of being chosen for the more suicidal roles that
the scheme demanded.

"We two will be picked
anyway," Laughlong told Whistlenose. "He thinks we're
trouble."

"He thinks
you're
trouble, Laughlong. Hey, you are trouble! Me? I'm just lame."

"Funny that," said the
other hunter, wiping sweat from his brow. People said he hadn't
laughed even once since getting his name. Some men accepted
themselves, while others fought against it their whole lives. "You're
a better hunter since you hurt that leg of yours, Whistlenose. How
many scrapes have you got out of in the last hundred days? And I
heard you were the first to wet his spear in the guts of a Jumper."

"We brought no flesh home
that day."

"Still... The Chief would be
mad to throw you away. You're a better provider now than you ever
were as a youngster."

Whistlenose tried to hide his
pleasure, but wasn't sure he'd managed it too well. The other man
patted him on the arm. "We'll be picked, though, no matter what.
You'll see."

It didn't stop either of them
from bringing down trees under the orders of an older woman,
Hairtosser. "This path will save your lives," she kept
telling them. As if they didn't know it better than her! She was
famous for stating the obvious, though, and now she kept repeating,
"If they catch you, you're dead!"

"Thanks for the hunting
advice, Hairtosser," Laughlong muttered. "Ancestors bless
your bottomless wisdom."

It took the entire tribe three
days before the path was complete. Four hunters could run along it
abreast, and children, including a very proud Nighttracker, now
climbed trees to hang swathes of moss cloth from the branches to
either side. Gangs of women, meanwhile, had been clearing away rocks
and smoothing down the larger bumps in the path.

Here and there, a tree too proud
to bring down forced twists and turns along the route, and that
worried the hunters. Wallbreaker made them walk the length of it
several times, while Hairtosser, representing the women, kept saying,
"You'll only get one chance, boys! Just one!"

Finally, all the brush was
carried away and Whistlenose felt his bones turn to water.
The
time has come, boy.
But he was wrong.

Despite the fact that food
supplies were shrinking fast, two more days passed while everybody
rested up. Whistlenose couldn't help thinking that Wallbreaker,
Ancestor visions or not, was trying to gather up his own courage too.
Death would threaten everybody in what was to come. Everybody.

And then, with the Roof reaching
its brightest point, Wallbreaker gathered the hunters together to
assign them their roles. Whistlenose heard his name called out, along
with Laughlong, Boneless and a few of the more experienced hunters,
as well as some of the women. However, he did not expect what came
next. "You lot are to be part of the second ambush."

"Not the runners?"
Laughlong asked, relief obvious in his voice.

"Oh, your job will be hard
enough, old man, don't you worry." He indicated another group
that consisted of mostly younger men, although Wallbreaker had
toughened it with older meat too—hunters such as Spitback and
Kneebiter. "We need stronger legs for the hard part, right lads?
The bravest of the brave!" No insult was intended to other
groups. It was simply the way a Chief spoke to those whose flesh was
most at risk. They cheered him, and it seemed to Whistlenose that the
less experience a man had, the louder his approval.

"The runners will depart a
tenth of a day before dark. You know what to do? Browncrack?"

The youngster nodded eagerly. "Go
into the planted fields. Steal as much flesh as we can."

"But don't get carried away.
Don't let them grab you, because they will be trying that. Packs of
three to tackle each body. A limb each with the third man to stab
through to the brain—but only in species that have an obvious
head. Leave the Pios alone, or anything too unfamiliar. Pull the
corpse from the hole. What then, hunter?"

Browncrack showed no fear at all.
"The Diggers will come when it gets dark."

"If not before..." the
Chief agreed. "But probably it won't be until the tracklights
come up. From what I've heard."

"Did the... did the
Ancestors
tell you that?"

"Of course. What happens
then, hunter?"

"Then, we kill the Diggers!
We—"

Wallbreaker slapped Browncrack
hard across the face. "Weren't you listening? To the plan?
You
will kill no Diggers. You are to run. All of you." He turned to
Spitback and Kneebiter. "I'll be relying on you two to make sure
nobody tries anything stupid."

"You could always go
yourself," said Laughlong. "I'm sure the boys will make
room for you."

"I'm sure they would,"
said the Chief. "Or for anybody else I chose to send." But
he showed no signs of anger and he repeated, "Nothing stupid!
You bring the flesh back here to the first ambush point."

"What if..."
Whistlenose couldn't help himself, "what if there are too many
Diggers following? Those fields go on a great distance. And there are
tunnels everywhere. All the buildings are tipping into the soil, as
if the ground was sucking them down."