Winter Wood by Steve Augarde Read Free Book Online

I’ll not answer for his skin.’
    â€˜You think to threaten one o’ mine?’ Maglin shook his spear in Tadgemole’s face. ‘An Ickri? Then why any Ickri should want aught to do with a
Tinkler’s
spalpeen is beyond my grasping. ’Tis Little-Marten that’s the fool – and I a bigger one for hearing him out. And a bigger one yet to think of mixing our blood with yourn! Look out for your own, then – and to your own skins. We s’ll do the same and reckon ourselves the better for it! I came here to talk o’ more important things, Tadgemole, but I s’ll waste no more time on ’ee. You’ll not see me here again, nor the Woodpecker neither.’
    Maglin turned and began to slither down the bank of shale. He very nearly lost his footing, and had to spread his wings in order to save himself. As he reached the bottom of the bank he turned again and looked upwards, thinking to hurl a last remark at Tadgemole. But the grey figure had already gone, and this incensed Maglin more than ever. Pah! He strode through the darkening woods, lashing out with his spear at any stalk or tendril that dared stray across his path. So much for his power and his wisdom. So much for his weak notions on intermingling the tribes. What had he achieved? Nothing. He hadn’t even got as far as mentioning the main reason for his visit – to persuade Tadgemole that the time had come to leave. Well, let them be, then. The cave-dwellers could roast on a Gorji spit for all he cared.
    A flash of white caught his eye – something lurking amid the clump of trees ahead of him. Maglin slowed his furious pace, hesitated, then deliberately changed his direction. He’d recognized the pale form of Pegs, and was in no mood for any passing conversation with that witchi creature. He’d had enough foolish talk for one day.
    The following evening Maglin called a Counsel of the Elders. He had dallied for long enough. Now that the old Queen had passed to another life it was time to talk properly of the future of the Various.
    Together they sat in the cramped and creaky interior of Counsel Pod – Maglin and the three Elders: Crozer of the Ickri, Ardel of the Naiad, and Damsk of the Wisp. Their grizzled faces were lit only by the glow of the earthenware charcoal burner that hung from the wicker roof, suspended low on its long rusty chain. They each spread their palms towards its smoky warmth.

    â€˜Our time grows ever shorter,’ said Maglin. ‘And these woods ever more dangerous. Now that there are those who know we are here, the day must come when all will learn of it and fall upon us. We must decide: to move on whilst we can and hope to chance upon some safer refuge, or to hold until the last. Let each have his say, then. Ardel – what from you? Speak for the Naiad.’
    Ardel cleared his throat. He seemed embarrassed, uncomfortable. ‘The Naiad will stay,’ he said. ‘And the Wisp also. Damsk and I have already spoken together of this.’
    â€˜What? Spoken together?’ Maglin looked from one to the other, first in surprise, then in anger. ‘And you have made such decision without me?’
    â€˜We have – and long since. There is naught to be gained in forsaking the forest, Maglin. Not for us. The Wisp already tread by night upon the heelmarks that the Gorji leave by day. They would be no safer elsewhere. And the Naiad neither hunt nor fish. We are crop-growers, travellers no more. Without our plantations we should not survive long. We shall advise our tribes to stay and meet with whatever comes.’
    Maglin threw a furious glance at Crozer. Had the Ickri Elder known of this decision?
    Crozer shrugged and said, ‘There be other reasons to stay, Maglin. What if the Orbis should ever return? Should we not be here to take it?’
    â€˜Pah! Orbis! I’ve no time for such blether, and have heard too much of the like from Pegs wi’ his