banishments resulted in the exile community’s establishment two centuries ago; and it has been used ever since to order tribesmen home, throughout as much of Davon Wood as its twenty-foot tube and ten-foot flaring bell—so enormous that the Horn requires huge bellows to produce its single, mournful note—can penetrate.
The foragers silently wait out the sounding of the Horn, hoping that they will not have to descend while the Wife of Kafra and the panther are still present. But after a few seconds of silence, the enormous instrument calls out again, and with greater insistence; or so it seems to Keera, who is keenly aware that danger in Okot means danger to her family.
“Come!” she murmurs. “Two blasts, we must—” But Heldo-Bah points to the ground without comment:
The Wife of Kafra, on hearing the Bane Horn, seems to have disappeared atop the panther. Likely she is moving through the northernmost portions of Davon Wood as swiftly as she can toward home, the fiery Bane thinks; but his face says that they cannot yet be certain.
The great Bane horn grows silent again; and only when Keera can detect neither scent nor sound of the woman as well as the panther does she nod, at which Heldo-Bah throws his knife angrily toward and into the Earth.
“Ficksel!”
he declares, shaking a fist in the direction of Okot, the Voice of the Moon, and the Bane Elders who ordered the sounding of the mighty alarm. “Bloody Groba,” he grumbles, making his way back down his ash. “No sense of timing!”
The three are soon on the ground, Keera deftly leaping from ten feet. “Two blasts of the Horn,” she says. “What can have happened?”
“Try not to fret, Keera,” Veloc says, pulling Heldo-Bah’s knife from the ground, tossing it to his comrade, then quickly starting out for the southeast. “Why, I’ve heard the damned thing sound for no more reason than—” He stops with an awkward rattle of his sack, however, when he hears the Horn sound yet again; and then he turns, not wishing to appear as concerned for Keera’s husband and her children as he feels. “Three blasts …” he says evenly, looking to Heldo-Bah; but all he finds playing across his friend’s scarred features is worry to match his own.
“Can either of you remember so many?” Keera asks, her composure deteriorating.
Heldo-Bah forces a smile onto his face. “Certainly!” he says, with an affected lack of concern: for he knows well that something undeniably important, and likely sinister, is happening. “I recall it well—so do you, Veloc. When that detachment of Broken soldiers chased an Outrager party into the Wood—the Groba ordered at least three blasts, and I’m fairly certain there were more. Isn’t that so, historian?”
Veloc understands Heldo-Bah’s intent, and quickly replies, “Yes—yes, it is.” He can dissemble in no greater detail, and the three foragers stand motionless as the third blast wanes; but when the Great Horn immediately issues another, Keera moves quickly to her brother’s side.
“It doesn’t stop!” she cries. “Why would they issue so many? It will bring the Tall to the village!”
Veloc puts an arm tight around her, trying to make his voice as gentle as his words are hard: “They may already
be
attacking Okot, Keera—that may be what is happening …”
“
More
bitch’s turd!” Heldo-Bah declares. “Pay him no mind, Keera—the Tall can’t
find
Okot, much less attack it. Besides, do you not find it even a little odd that we should hear so many horn blasts on the same night that a Wife of Kafra entrances and then makes away with a Davon panther?” He tousles Keera’s hair. “What is happening has naught to do with any attack on Okot—something of a different nature is going on, I’d stake my sack’s earnings on it. But we won’t know anything until we get there—so let’s be off.”
“If you’re saying that you
do
suspect sorcery here, Heldo-Bah,” Veloc says, as the group strap
The foragers silently wait out the sounding of the Horn, hoping that they will not have to descend while the Wife of Kafra and the panther are still present. But after a few seconds of silence, the enormous instrument calls out again, and with greater insistence; or so it seems to Keera, who is keenly aware that danger in Okot means danger to her family.
“Come!” she murmurs. “Two blasts, we must—” But Heldo-Bah points to the ground without comment:
The Wife of Kafra, on hearing the Bane Horn, seems to have disappeared atop the panther. Likely she is moving through the northernmost portions of Davon Wood as swiftly as she can toward home, the fiery Bane thinks; but his face says that they cannot yet be certain.
The great Bane horn grows silent again; and only when Keera can detect neither scent nor sound of the woman as well as the panther does she nod, at which Heldo-Bah throws his knife angrily toward and into the Earth.
“Ficksel!”
he declares, shaking a fist in the direction of Okot, the Voice of the Moon, and the Bane Elders who ordered the sounding of the mighty alarm. “Bloody Groba,” he grumbles, making his way back down his ash. “No sense of timing!”
The three are soon on the ground, Keera deftly leaping from ten feet. “Two blasts of the Horn,” she says. “What can have happened?”
“Try not to fret, Keera,” Veloc says, pulling Heldo-Bah’s knife from the ground, tossing it to his comrade, then quickly starting out for the southeast. “Why, I’ve heard the damned thing sound for no more reason than—” He stops with an awkward rattle of his sack, however, when he hears the Horn sound yet again; and then he turns, not wishing to appear as concerned for Keera’s husband and her children as he feels. “Three blasts …” he says evenly, looking to Heldo-Bah; but all he finds playing across his friend’s scarred features is worry to match his own.
“Can either of you remember so many?” Keera asks, her composure deteriorating.
Heldo-Bah forces a smile onto his face. “Certainly!” he says, with an affected lack of concern: for he knows well that something undeniably important, and likely sinister, is happening. “I recall it well—so do you, Veloc. When that detachment of Broken soldiers chased an Outrager party into the Wood—the Groba ordered at least three blasts, and I’m fairly certain there were more. Isn’t that so, historian?”
Veloc understands Heldo-Bah’s intent, and quickly replies, “Yes—yes, it is.” He can dissemble in no greater detail, and the three foragers stand motionless as the third blast wanes; but when the Great Horn immediately issues another, Keera moves quickly to her brother’s side.
“It doesn’t stop!” she cries. “Why would they issue so many? It will bring the Tall to the village!”
Veloc puts an arm tight around her, trying to make his voice as gentle as his words are hard: “They may already
be
attacking Okot, Keera—that may be what is happening …”
“
More
bitch’s turd!” Heldo-Bah declares. “Pay him no mind, Keera—the Tall can’t
find
Okot, much less attack it. Besides, do you not find it even a little odd that we should hear so many horn blasts on the same night that a Wife of Kafra entrances and then makes away with a Davon panther?” He tousles Keera’s hair. “What is happening has naught to do with any attack on Okot—something of a different nature is going on, I’d stake my sack’s earnings on it. But we won’t know anything until we get there—so let’s be off.”
“If you’re saying that you
do
suspect sorcery here, Heldo-Bah,” Veloc says, as the group strap
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