Melcorka tasted it first. “It's delicious,” she said. “What is it?”
“Leaves and moss, with insects and grubs,” Eithne seemed proud of her culinary skills.
Used to eating whatever they could on their travels, neither Bradan nor Melcorka complained about the food. Nutrition was necessary to give them strength. “You all look very healthy on it,” Melcorka said.
“Oh, we get plenty of food,” Drost said.
“Plenty of food,” Eithne echoed as the children looked at each other and nodded without smiling. They stared at Melcorka through big eyes.
“Now you must rest,” Eithne said. “You look as if you've had a trying day.”
“You are very kind,” Bradan said. In Alba, it was habitual for people to show hospitality to travellers, with the most impoverished people often the most generous even if it meant they would go hungry themselves. All the same, with the present unsettled state of the country, he was surprised that these forest dwellers welcomed him into their home with such alacrity.
“Sleep now,” Eithne said. “We'll all sleep now.”
It was strangely comfortable in that small house high in the trees, with the sound of rustling branches all around. Bradan placed his staff on the floor at his feet, winked at the children and lay on the wooden bench. “I am glad you found us, Drost,” he said. “We were not looking forward to a night in the forest.”
Eithne laughed, covering her mouth shyly. “You are welcome,” she said. “We don't often get guests.”
“Take off your sword, Melcorka,” Drost said. “You won't need your sword at night. The boars don't climb trees.”
Eithne laughed. “No, the boars don't climb trees.”
The light shafted green through the branches, gradually fading as night drew in. The bird calls of daytime died away, replaced by the melancholy whistles of hunting owls. Bradan closed his eyes, listened to the soft, regular breathing of his hosts, briefly wondered what he would find tomorrow and drifted to sleep. It was a long time since he had felt so relaxed.
Chapter Sixteen
“Bradan!” Melcorka spoke urgently. “Bradan!”
“What?” Bradan rolled over, nearly fell on the floor and saw the dim shape of Melcorka leaning over him.
“They've all gone,” Melcorka said. “Drost, Eithne and the children have all gone.”
“Just like the villagers.” Bradan forced himself awake. “Where?”
“How should I know?” Melcorka asked. “I heard movement, and they were gone.”
“Something must have taken them.” Bradan said. “It's time we were gone too, or we'll be next to vanish.”
Lifting Defender, Melcorka strapped it on her back. “No,” she said. “These people gave us hospitality. We'll try to find them; there must be some sort of trail to follow.”
Although the canopy of trees hid the sky, Bradan guessed it was the early hours of the morning. The rope was hanging down, swaying only slightly as he took hold of it.
“Bradan!” Melcorka called as he began the climb. “Look below!”
In the dim light, Bradan could make out only shapes. He estimated about a dozen people were assembled at the bottom of the rope, with one man climbing up as he climbed down. Moss-masks concealed the faces, leaving only the eyes to glare up at him.
“Get back, Bradan,” Melcorka hissed.
The man below Bradan swarmed up the rope far faster than Bradan could. Before Bradan returned to the plank-built platform, the man reached up, grabbed hold of Bradan's leg and pulled, with another man joining him seconds later.
“Get off!” Bradan kicked downward, felt contact and kicked again. The hands grasped his legs, pulling him away from the rope, trying to haul him to the growing crowd below.
“Bradan!” Taking Bradan's arms, Melcorka tried to drag him up, but she was too late. The arrival of a third man broke Bradan's grip, knocking him headlong to the ground, with the force of the landing stunning him. He lay still for a moment, staring at the circle of moss-masked faces that surrounded him.
They were silent and unidentifiable, merely glaring eyes in a mass of moss. “Who are you?” Bradan said. “What do you want?” When he tried to move, half a dozen men grabbed hold of him, and some removed their masks.
Drost and Eithne were at the forefront, with their children next and other faces he did not recognise. When Drost smiled, Bradan saw that his teeth were filed to points, as were those of Eithne and the children.
“What?” Bradan asked, still too dazed to understand what was happening.
The crowd swarmed, chattering, as they began to drag and carry him away.
“Bradan! I'm coming!” Swinging over the platform, Melcorka climbed down the rope ladder, jumping the final few yards.
As the effects of his fall wore off, Bradan struggled, kicking out at the men at his legs.
Eithne danced around, giving orders to the men. “Take him away. Knock him out. Capture the woman as well.”
“We'll eat well today,” Drost said, with a high-pitched laugh that sent a cold chill down Bradan's spine as he understood the significance of the sharpened teeth.
“Cannibals!” Bradan yelled. “Melcorka! These are cannibals!”
Melcorka arrived like a cat amongst a tribe of mice. Drawing Defender, she sliced left and right, killing Drost and another man. “Let Bradan go!” The power of Defender surged through her, enabling her to duck the short spear that a man threw at her, thrust Defender's point into another spearman's belly and chop the arm off a third. “Bradan!”
As the cannibals dropped Bradan, he kicked out at Eithne, rolled on the ground and searched for something to use as a weapon.
More cannibals appeared, running into the clearing with spears, stout sticks and knives, to jump on Bradan and form a circle around Melcorka.
“To me, Bradan! Come to me!”
Three women grabbed hold of Bradan, clawing at him with long nails as he desperately lifted a fallen stick and swung at them. The stick snapped on contact, leaving him with only a fragment a little longer than his thumb.
Swearing, Bradan threw the stick at an advancing cannibal, lifted one of the short spears from a man Melcorka had killed and backed against a tree. “Come on, then! Come and fight for
