two of the beasts – and returned.’
Ned stood up quickly, forcing Ren back. ‘Go to your bed and dream there,’ he snarled. ‘What devil makes you shame me so? This, on a day so clouded by misery?’
‘But—?’
‘Go!’ Ned pointed the way.
Ren sighed and stumbled back. But he did not go to his bed, for a storm was brewing in the minds of the men and the first roll of thunder was about to break. It came from the mouth of Varl Rednose again. ‘Why do we sit with our hearts in our boots when we all know a way to defeat the skalers?’ He cast his ugly gaze around the circle. ‘I will not sleep this night while these words sit heavy on my tongue: I say we raise the darkeyes.’
‘NO!’ cried Ren, coming forward again.
Once more, his father was forced to intervene. He grabbed a hunk of Ren’s robe and drew the boy to him. ‘This is men’s talk. Why are you still here?’
Ren shook his head, making his white hair fly. ‘Please, Pa. You cannot let them do this.’
But the plot was already in progress. ‘How?’ said Oak, the only voice except Varl’s not muttering in fear.
Varl clapped a hand to Oak’s sturdy shoulder. ‘Utal’s spirit may be with the Fathers, but his body can still be of use to us.’
Oak looked puzzled. ‘Again, I ask how?’
Varl bent close. ‘We give your brother to the darkeyes in sacrifice.’
‘What?’ said Oak. His face had turned the colour of the moon.
Varl straightened up. ‘We go to their cave,’ he boomed at the men. ‘We wake them, aye. Make them know the skalers are back. Invite them to suck every speck of green from that murderous fire-thrower in the mountains. Let the darkeyes and skalers war again. Let the beasts be hunted by the black terror and the skies be clear of their kind for good – just like the first time the skalers came…’
‘No!’ cried Ren. ‘I won’t let you hurt them! It was Utal’s folly that earned him the right to his walk with death. The skalers mean us no harm!’
‘Ned, put your boy away,’ growled Varl.
And Ned had no choice but to drag Ren clear.
At the shelter, he drew the boy to him again. ‘Listen to me, Ren, and listen well. Is your mind so addled by these fearful creatures that you have no pity for Oak’s sad loss and would taunt a brute like Rednose with it? I have no love for the darkeyes, you know this. I would rather swallow a fistful of grit than have the tribe befriend such a hideous thing. But the skalers have taken Utal’s life. We must fight for his honour. What else would you have me do?’
‘Make peace,’ gulped Ren.
Ned sighed and put a hand to the boy’s pale face, wiping away a tear with his thumb. ‘The skalers took our land, Ren. The stars were always going to settle like this.’
‘Then you will all die !’ Ren said harshly.
And he dived into the shelter and threw himself, face down, onto his bed.
That night, without sleep, Ren thought long about the ‘black terror’, for the darkeyes were a mystery all to themselves.
Sometime after the first wave of skalers, the Kaal began to witness battles taking place in the skies above the mountains. A terrifying creature, the colour of a caarker but the size of twenty, appeared just as suddenly as the beasts had done. They had twisted, scale-free bodies, stunted wings and a shortened tail. Their eyes were like mud shaken up in water; no light shone from their fixed black cores. They blew no fire, these things, but instead released a poisonous spit that burned as fiercely as any flame. Several of the tribe carried scars from the time a squealing darkeye had crashed on the settlement, the rear half of its body ablaze. Ren’s father had put an arrow through its throat as it thrashed in agony on the ground. He’d been trying to show the creature mercy, but the darkeye had let out a hideous squeal, thrown its head and sprayed the camp with its ugly bile. A skaler had followed the darkeye down and destroyed it with a flame so hot it had marked
Ned stood up quickly, forcing Ren back. ‘Go to your bed and dream there,’ he snarled. ‘What devil makes you shame me so? This, on a day so clouded by misery?’
‘But—?’
‘Go!’ Ned pointed the way.
Ren sighed and stumbled back. But he did not go to his bed, for a storm was brewing in the minds of the men and the first roll of thunder was about to break. It came from the mouth of Varl Rednose again. ‘Why do we sit with our hearts in our boots when we all know a way to defeat the skalers?’ He cast his ugly gaze around the circle. ‘I will not sleep this night while these words sit heavy on my tongue: I say we raise the darkeyes.’
‘NO!’ cried Ren, coming forward again.
Once more, his father was forced to intervene. He grabbed a hunk of Ren’s robe and drew the boy to him. ‘This is men’s talk. Why are you still here?’
Ren shook his head, making his white hair fly. ‘Please, Pa. You cannot let them do this.’
But the plot was already in progress. ‘How?’ said Oak, the only voice except Varl’s not muttering in fear.
Varl clapped a hand to Oak’s sturdy shoulder. ‘Utal’s spirit may be with the Fathers, but his body can still be of use to us.’
Oak looked puzzled. ‘Again, I ask how?’
Varl bent close. ‘We give your brother to the darkeyes in sacrifice.’
‘What?’ said Oak. His face had turned the colour of the moon.
Varl straightened up. ‘We go to their cave,’ he boomed at the men. ‘We wake them, aye. Make them know the skalers are back. Invite them to suck every speck of green from that murderous fire-thrower in the mountains. Let the darkeyes and skalers war again. Let the beasts be hunted by the black terror and the skies be clear of their kind for good – just like the first time the skalers came…’
‘No!’ cried Ren. ‘I won’t let you hurt them! It was Utal’s folly that earned him the right to his walk with death. The skalers mean us no harm!’
‘Ned, put your boy away,’ growled Varl.
And Ned had no choice but to drag Ren clear.
At the shelter, he drew the boy to him again. ‘Listen to me, Ren, and listen well. Is your mind so addled by these fearful creatures that you have no pity for Oak’s sad loss and would taunt a brute like Rednose with it? I have no love for the darkeyes, you know this. I would rather swallow a fistful of grit than have the tribe befriend such a hideous thing. But the skalers have taken Utal’s life. We must fight for his honour. What else would you have me do?’
‘Make peace,’ gulped Ren.
Ned sighed and put a hand to the boy’s pale face, wiping away a tear with his thumb. ‘The skalers took our land, Ren. The stars were always going to settle like this.’
‘Then you will all die !’ Ren said harshly.
And he dived into the shelter and threw himself, face down, onto his bed.
That night, without sleep, Ren thought long about the ‘black terror’, for the darkeyes were a mystery all to themselves.
Sometime after the first wave of skalers, the Kaal began to witness battles taking place in the skies above the mountains. A terrifying creature, the colour of a caarker but the size of twenty, appeared just as suddenly as the beasts had done. They had twisted, scale-free bodies, stunted wings and a shortened tail. Their eyes were like mud shaken up in water; no light shone from their fixed black cores. They blew no fire, these things, but instead released a poisonous spit that burned as fiercely as any flame. Several of the tribe carried scars from the time a squealing darkeye had crashed on the settlement, the rear half of its body ablaze. Ren’s father had put an arrow through its throat as it thrashed in agony on the ground. He’d been trying to show the creature mercy, but the darkeye had let out a hideous squeal, thrown its head and sprayed the camp with its ugly bile. A skaler had followed the darkeye down and destroyed it with a flame so hot it had marked
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