10.

A BITTER HOMECOMING

As it happened, the men had to wait the best part of seven days before they could return to their homes. They watched Hoppers and Armourbacks slaughter each other with no thought of food or survival. Eventually Clawfolk coming from one direction, and humans from another, mopped up what remained of the alliance. Stopmouth was sure they’d all be eating bitter Armourback flesh for some time to come. No matter. He’d be getting to see Indrani again soon: her dark lips, her eyes as compelling as a Flyer’s. He could marry her in a way that Wallbreaker hadn’t. He could win her consent.

Stopmouth had expected cheers at his return. Instead, he and Rockface were greeted with stares in the bone-filled streets from men with new scars and tattooed boys barely large enough to lift a spear. Rubble cluttered the alleys, and everywhere women smoked huge quantities of flesh over fires.

Rockface asked after his family, but nobody seemed willing to answer until he shook the truth out of an exhausted hunter.

‘Watersip,’ said the hunter, ‘she volunteered to poison the Flyers. This was after the Armourbacks had…when the rest of her family…I’m sorry, Rockface. She was brave. She still had a thousand days left in her, she—’

Rockface refused to believe it. He dropped the hunter in the dust and ran off home, shouting the names of his wives and children.

Stopmouth looked after the other man, his heart filled with pity. Whose ancestor could Rockface be now? It was a horrible thought, but not the only one. Who else had died? he wondered. Who had he, Stopmouth, lost? He tried not to dwell on this question as he picked his way towards the chief’s house. The streets had been so altered by traps and fallen buildings that when he reached Centre Square, he barely recognized it. Blood spattered many of the walls, and the half-butchered corpses of enemies littered the ground, sure to go to waste. Worse, old Tally sticks had spilled out of the doorway of the House of Honour, some trodden on, some even broken! The souls to whom those sticks belonged would never make it Home. Nobody had taken the time to clean up this outrage or even to hide it. Nobody.

Then he saw Wallbreaker and Mossheart stepping out of their house together. Wallbreaker looked like he hadn’t slept in tens of days. He was thinner than Stopmouth had ever seen him and he had dark patches under his eyes. When the chief noticed his brother looking at him from across the square, he cried out as if he’d seen a spirit. He hobbled over the intervening space to hug Stopmouth in evident relief. Had all been forgiven? Were they brothers again as the chief had promised they would be? His joy seemed real; Stopmouth could feel it in the strength of his embrace. Many heartbeats passed before Wallbreaker even asked about the success of the mission.

But when he did, activity in the square came to a halt. It was as if people were only now remembering why they hadn’t seen Stopmouth during the battle. Men and women edged closer, almost timidly. Not like humans at all. Stopmouth looked to the edges of the gathering crowd, hoping to spot Indrani there, smiling at him. Why couldn’t he see her? He felt a sudden reluctance to pass the Talker over to his brother, mingled with fear for her safety. What if she’d been made to volunteer during the battle?

But he knew these thoughts were unworthy of him. If he couldn’t trust his brother, the world had lost all meaning. So he reached into the pouch and pulled out the fist-sized sphere of metal.

He said: ‘I h-h-h-ave it h-h-h—’

And the Talker said: ‘I have it here!’

Some of the people applauded; many wept until Wallbreaker waved for silence. They obeyed instantly.

‘We are few now,’ the chief said. ‘No more than a thousand’–Stopmouth’s jaw dropped even as his brother’s voice grew stronger and louder–‘but we are the bravest thousand humans that have ever lived!’

He raised the Talker. ‘With this ball of magic whose capture I planned, I can promise our survival! More! I can promise that none of our children’s children will ever have to volunteer! Ever!’

A great cheer followed.

Stopmouth’s head was still reeling with the thought that so few of his people had survived. Too few in such a dangerous world. And he still couldn’t see Indrani.

He tried to ask Wallbreaker about her, but couldn’t make himself heard above the crowd.

‘We have all been brave,’ shouted the chief, ‘but none more so than my brother, Stopmouth!’ The people agreed with enthusiasm. ‘He and Rockface will have new tattoos for this! Although I don’t know where poor Rockface will find the space!’

‘I bet his wives know!’ shouted someone in the crowd. There was some laughter, but this was quickly hushed by those who knew the fate of Rockface’s family.

‘I will also reward my brother by keeping a promise I made to him the last time I thought I’d lost him. I will find him a bride!’ Stopmouth’s heart soared. ‘The Tribe needs children now, new hunters, and more women to build our walls and smoke our flesh. I will personally pay the bride price for Stopmouth to take his pick of any of the unmarried women of the Tribe!’ More cheering followed, real cheering, as if the people only now realized they’d won and were finally safe. In the midst of fierce backslapping, Stopmouth was wondering what Wallbreaker had meant by ‘unmarried women’. Had he already set Indrani aside? Had she died in the fighting? But he didn’t dare ask such questions in public. So, when Stopmouth got the chance, he pushed his way through those who tried to hug him towards the chief’s house, where Wallbreaker had already retreated. Stopmouth didn’t enter. If Indrani waited within, he couldn’t be seen with her. Not yet. But he had to know that she still lived. He couldn’t bear the thought that she lay in some larder, perhaps the larder of this very house. He rested one hand against the lintel for support. Unless he could talk to his brother, alone, he had no way of finding out what had happened to her. He called a few times with no response from within. The celebration started by Wallbreaker’s speech had grown rowdy enough to drown out his voice. Perhaps that was why no one came to the entrance to greet him. He could come back in a tenth, or sooner if the singing stopped.

Behind him, people were taking flesh from the smoking fires and dancing around them. A few even jumped the flames as though this was a wedding. Most were discussing the power of the Talker in excited voices. They smiled when Stopmouth passed, but knew they’d never get a story out of him with his twitchy tongue and left him alone.

He wandered through a few laneways until he came to his new house. Blood had dried into the dirt of the floor and a small clump of what might have been Hopper fur lay in one corner.

The hides were mostly undisturbed. He sat on them, watching the light outside, hoping the celebrations would die down soon.

After an eternity had passed, he made his way back to his brother’s house. Centre Square hadn’t emptied, but most people were here now to eat. Before the siege everyone had preferred to take their meals in family groups, but the fighting had brought the survivors together.

He called out for Wallbreaker, who appeared from behind a hide curtain of the thickest sort. The chief nodded at his brother, but didn’t smile as he had in public or invite him inside. Wallbreaker was wearing a pouch on his belt with the Talker in it. Good, thought Stopmouth. His speech would be clear. He’d need that.

The Talker spoke in Stopmouth’s voice: ‘When are you going to be setting her aside?’

‘I’d be a cruel man indeed to set aside any woman in the present circumstances,’ the chief replied. ‘I couldn’t do that to either of my wives.’

Stopmouth stood and stared, unable to believe what he was hearing. Wallbreaker made as if to step back inside, but Stopmouth found his voice again and called him back.

‘You made me a promise!’

‘Stopmouth, you know I only made that promise because Indrani didn’t want to be here at the time. I had no intention of forcing her to stay. But during the fighting…well, I saved her life and she was sufficiently grateful to—’

‘That’s a lie!’

‘Keep your voice down!’ hissed Wallbreaker. ‘You made a promise of your own, remember? Do you want the whole Tribe to hear?’

‘They’ll surely wonder why you’re not inviting your own brother into your house, but instead keep him at the door!’

‘I don’t invite anybody in here any more. They all know that. It’s the best way to protect my family.’

‘This is madness! Let me see Indrani. If you won’t allow me in, then send her out here to tell me of her decision herself. I’ll accept what she says and I’ll leave you alone.’

‘I am your chief,’ said Wallbreaker, face burning, ‘and you will do what I say in any case! But I don’t want to fight with you, my brother. I never wanted to fight with you. Not over a woman. They’ve always found me more attractive than you, you know that. I thought you’d come to accept it by now.’ He reached out a hand to Stopmouth’s shoulder, but Stopmouth shook it off angrily. He wanted to hit Wallbreaker. Not like when they fought as children, but to really hit him. He knew he could strike hard: he’d gained muscle of late, while Wallbreaker, if anything, seemed to be losing it.

‘Look,’ said Wallbreaker, ‘Indrani can fight. Most people even call her Mankicker now. Do you honestly believe that I could have obliged her to show her gratitude if she hadn’t been willing? Do you think I could keep her here against her will?’

The barb struck home. No one could make Indrani do anything she didn’t want. They’d have to kill her.

Stopmouth dropped his head as Wallbreaker continued. ‘So many women in the Tribe need husbands now, Stopmouth. They’ll admire you when they see the tattoos I’ll give you. And what of the widows who need protectors to avoid volunteering? Why, at your age you could have two wives if you wanted!’

Stopmouth stumbled away without answering. What he wanted right then was to die.

Over the next few days, humans began to pick up the pieces of their lives. Most families had been required to provide volunteers during the fighting and others had disappeared entirely. So there were many weddings and a great deal of building to enforce the new perimeter that Wallbreaker had established. Hunters spent their time competing with Clawfolk for the corpses of Hoppers and Armourbacks that kept turning up, dreading the day when this easy flesh ran out. There were so many orphans around now that the chief had ordered older hunters to hold classes in Centre Square in place of missing fathers.

Stopmouth hardly noticed the changes. He ate little and walked lots while his imagination invented heart-wrenching conversations with Indrani: ‘Why did you choose him? How could you choose him? You wanted me!’ Although Indrani had never actually said so herself. He needed answers to these questions. He wanted her to see him again, to remind her of what she’d rejected. Perhaps then she wouldn’t be able to speak the words that would surely kill him. Oh, he knew many who’d lost far more than he had, and from time to time he sent prayers to the ancestors to watch over Rockface and other mourners. But he couldn’t prevent his thoughts from returning to Indrani.

In his mind’s eye he saw the way Wallbreaker had always watched her with such hunger. It hurt, and he couldn’t stop feeding the hurt until it filled every waking moment.

By day he walked through Centre Square as often as possible. He took to burning Armourback shell into spearheads at a place where he had an unrestricted view of the door to the chief’s house. After several tens he realized that Indrani never went outside, not even onto the roof. A person couldn’t live like that. It wasn’t natural.

She was probably inside now, he thought, giving Wallbreaker answers to all the questions he’d ever posed, laughing in between; coy, kissing. The thought burned and came back again and again to burn him further.

One day he followed Mossheart as she set out from the house alone. Her child wouldn’t be long in coming now, he thought. She waddled in the direction of her older sister’s home. He caught up with her before she reached it at a place where the Hairbeast refugees had painted some of their strange blood designs on the gable end of a house.

‘C-c-can we sssspeak?’

She grimaced when she saw who it was, no echo of friendship left in her eyes.

‘The chief has told you to stay away, Stopmouth. So stay away. Find a woman before people begin to talk about you. Some of them already do.’ She began to move off again.

‘W-w-why won’t she l-l-leave the house?’

‘She obeys her husband,’ said Mossheart bitterly. ‘As I do. Neither of us has any choice.’ When she walked off, he called after her, but she didn’t stop.

Of course Indrani had had a choice! She’d been a strange but powerful fighter who could kick the height of a man’s head. Lots of men had been afraid of her, and even Wallbreaker couldn’t stand over her ten tenths of the day.

Once again he wondered if she were dead, or horribly injured and next on the list of volunteers. He wondered too why Wallbreaker never permitted anyone into the chief’s house any more. Surely, if he’d won Indrani’s loyalty for himself, the smart way to quell all those earlier rumours would have been to show her off as she prepared his food.

Stopmouth realized there was only one thing to do: he’d have to go and see for himself.

When night fell, he moved into the streets behind Centre Square. Here the back of the chief’s house faced onto a laneway with a ground-floor window for the ventilation of smoke.

Stopmouth lifted himself onto the sill. The embers of a dung fire inside gave just enough light for him to see that the room was empty. He sighed with relief. This part at least would be easy.

He was about to crawl forward when he noticed something: an old spear-shaft had been left on the inner part of the windowsill–right where he would have had to put his hands as he climbed inside. He reached to push it out of his way, but the fire burst into life again and frightened him into stillness. In that moment he saw that the piece of wood under his hand was no ordinary old spear-shaft. One end of it connected to a hide rope, hidden until now by a rim that framed the window and disappeared into the shadows of the ceiling.

A trap! Wallbreaker’s speciality. Perhaps it was just a leftover from the battle; many houses had been protected in this way, although it was surely strange that something so dangerous should still be here when the threat had passed.

Stopmouth climbed carefully into the room without disturbing the spear-shaft. He saw nothing more suspicious amongst the shadows than racks of smoked flesh and a few tree branches ready for cutting into tools.

In the next room at the back of the house, Mossheart slept, breathing noisily. A few flames danced in a fire pit, throwing light onto the delicate curve of one cheek. She looked as beautiful as on her wedding night. An arm stretched out from under the hides, resting on what might, in her dreams, have been a shoulder. His heart melted and for a moment he was once more the boy who had loved her in desperation. He shook his head, ready to move on. But then he saw the first signs of Indrani’s presence. In the corner, something black and shiny rested against the wall. He stepped over to it carefully and picked it up. A smile came to his face. It was part of the strange costume Indrani had arrived in. It must be. A bent container, just the right size for one of her feet. He had just turned it over to examine the sole when he heard a movement and froze. Mossheart had stirred in her sleep. His mouth turned dry and his heart thudded bang, bang, bang in his chest. But she seemed to settle again at once. He put down the foot-covering and moved on.

The next door brought him to what had been the meeting room before Wallbreaker had stopped inviting guests into his home. No fire here, no sounds of breathing. Nothing.

One last place to check, he thought. It lay in front of him, hidden by a hide drape across the entrance. He steeled himself for what he might find now: his brother and his love entwined on the floor. He’d leave as soon as he saw it, but he didn’t want to add to his humiliation in Indrani’s eyes by being caught. No matter what was in that room, he vowed, he’d keep silent. He could cry all he wanted when he got home.

Careful, he thought. Careful…

Remembering the spear-shaft on the windowsill, Stopmouth checked for traps again, and amazingly found a piece of ligament twine tied at ankle height across the doorway. Nothing fatal. But in your own house! Another piece of ligament stretched across at neck height and Stopmouth had to duck between the two as he pushed the curtain aside.

He heard more breathing in here, one person only. It was a hoarse rattle, a constant struggle. With no fire to guide him and the window blocked up, he had to get down on his knees and crawl towards the sound. His hand found the damp palm of another person in the dark. The fingers didn’t move under his.

‘Indrani?’ he whispered. ‘Indrani?’ The person didn’t wake up when he shook her by the shoulders. Her skin burned under his touch and every few seconds a twitch passed from her body into his hand. It reminded him of something. But what? Then it came to him. In his mind’s eye he saw the rooftop where he and Rockface had recovered the Talker. He saw the dying Flyers with their staring eyes and trembling wings.

This then was how Wallbreaker kept her at home. Stopmouth wanted to cry out, to scrape at the walls until his palms ran bloody. It’s a mistake, he thought. Wallbreaker didn’t do this. Nobody could do this. Indrani was always so ignorant of even the most basic things, like a child. And like a child she might have forgotten to brush mossbeasts off her food if any had crawled onto it.

And yet a person would need to eat whole handfuls of them for this to happen.

He lifted the woman onto his shoulders with far too much ease. Perhaps this wasn’t Indrani after all. Indrani had muscle on her frame. He moved to the doorway and tore the curtain out of his way. He nearly dropped his burden right there. Mossheart stood in the hallway looking straight at him. Shadows covered most of her face, giving her the look of a skull.

‘Good, Stopmouth,’ she said. ‘I thought you’d never come! And on a night when Wallbreaker is off working on plans for an alliance with the Clawfolk. Good!’

She pointed a shaking hand at the body on Stopmouth’s shoulders. ‘She is destroying my husband.’ Her voice was almost a screech; tears tracked down her face. ‘He was never so frightened before she came to this house.’ Stopmouth didn’t try to correct her. He edged past her towards the main entrance.

Mossheart’s skull turned to follow him. ‘I almost don’t recognize you any more, Stopmouth. You’re filling out, more of a man than a boy.’ She shrugged, as if to say, The past is no more. ‘Once Wallbreaker finds out she’s bewitched you, he’ll have to volunteer you both.’ Was she smiling? ‘I think after that…he’ll be able to sleep again.’

Stopmouth left through the main entrance, not caring if anybody were awake to see him. He was sure Indrani was dying, so it seemed less important to him in that moment that he too was as good as dead; little more than walking meat to be traded to the Clawfolk.