Oracle by Jackie French Page A

And turn away yourself.’
    Nikko reached up and put his hands over Thetis’s eyes. She let him—Nikko suspected Orkestres knew she would have nudged away if he had covered her eyes himself.
    But Nikko couldn’t look away. What was happening here?
    Two of the saplings had been bent over the road, each held down by one of the soldiers. As Nikko watched another soldier tied a young man’s feet to the top of one of the trees, and then tied his waist to the second tree as well.
    The young man screamed. There were no words, just noise and pain and horror.
    ‘Shut your eyes!’ cried Orkestres. ‘Now!’
    Nikko obeyed automatically. The scream grew more frantic. There was a word now. ‘No! No. Nooooooooo!’
    Something ripped across the air, like an eagle swooping low. He felt warm drops on his face, something slimy on his hand…
    He opened his eyes.
    The saplings were upright again. Something red dangled from them: a leg, an arm…blood everywhere. Dripping from the two halves of the body, dripping from the trees. Nikko wiped his face automatically, then realised he was no longer covering Thetis’s eyes.
    Her face was white, the lips pressed so hard together that they looked white as well. She stared at the trees, the head, then slowly gazed at the guards who’d travelled with them.
    Some looked sickened, like Orkestres. Others laughed, or joked. The ponies jostled each othernervously. Even when the guards pulled their tethers to steady them, the animals showed the whites of their eyes.
    ‘You can go now.’ The soldiers stood back to let them pass.
    They guards pulled the ponies’ tethers. The tribute train began to move again, past the body.
    ‘Who was he?’ whispered Nikko.
    Orkestres looked around to make sure none of the guards could hear him. ‘A thief. A murderer perhaps. Or maybe just someone who angered the High King.’
    ‘When will they let his family bury him?’ There had been no family to watch, thought Nikko. No one to cry, or grieve.
    ‘They won’t. He’ll hang there till the crows eat his flesh, till his bones fall for the wolves.’
    ‘But…but he can’t!’
    The ghosts of unburied men roamed the world, wailing and calling out for vengeance.
    ‘You will see others like him,’ said Orkestres quietly. ‘Bones hanging from the trees. That’s why this line of trees is here, along the road to Mycenae, where any who might challenge the High King’s might can see them. The bodies are a warning—please the High King or die. But never mention them. Never.’ He shot them a glance. ‘Now do you see why you need to please the High King? All you have ever known is a village chief. But the High King rules by the favour of the Mother. He is all-powerful. Always. Everywhere.’ Orkestres touched the gold chain at his throat. ‘But if you do please him, life can be good.’
    Thetis leaned over and vomited neatly onto the side of the road.
    Orkestres waited till she had finished, and a mob of goats passed them, then pulled up a handful of grass and wiped her face. He picked her up and cradled her in his arms. To Nikko’s surprise she accepted it, snuggling down as if for comfort.
    ‘You said your knees hurt if you carry anything.’
    ‘Just for a while,’ said Orkestres softly. ‘Until we pass the trees. Some things are hard for little girls to see. Men can bear them better.’
    They walked in silence around the hill. The autumn grass was pale, and drooped in small gold tufts as the sun shone through it. Small towers rose above them, each manned by a pair of guards gazing out across the hills and plains. Nikko kept his eyes carefully averted from the trees along the road. But still he felt he could hear screams whispering in the wind, and the muttering of ghosts with no earth strewn on their graves.
    At one of the towers the men herding the goats turned off, and waved farewell to their comrades. The goats, it seemed, were to graze out here, and not go on to Mycenae. The rest of the tribute train