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sit with Megda until you come back. She needs company. We both do.”
     They went out into the cold night air. Though the days had warmed, the winter chill still hung in the air after dark. The Elders had agreed to gather at the Meeting Hall, which was on the way to Megda’s house. Jakan and Jalena walked together without a word. He reached out and took her hand. For a moment she didn’t respond. Then she squeezed his fingers and moved closer to him.
    They walked like this until they approached the Meeting Hall where most of the Elders, including Kattan, waited already. While they were still out of earshot, Jakan stopped and taking Jalena’s arm, turned her around to face him. He stroked her cheek, oblivious to the watchful eyes of the Elders.
    “I love you.”
    She reached up and kissed him. “Be careful,” she whispered, before walking away towards Megda’s house.
    As he reached the hall, the four sedan carriers, having seen his approach, raised the sedan in readiness. Kattan managed a weak smile. Warm cloaks and rugs covered him, yet his face looked blue with cold in the fading light.
    Without a word, Jakan took his place in the procession behind the Chief Elder. He didn't look at the other Elders, but imagined that he could feel the eyes of Grifad boring into his back. He glanced at him over his shoulder, but the man’s gaze fell. They waited for a few minutes before Hapir, led by his wife, finally arrived. He seemed confused and had to be eased into his place. Then the small procession moved off.
    Some of the villagers had gathered at the bottom of the path to The Tree to watch the Elders pass. They didn't make a sound as they went by, but regarded them with expressionless faces. Jakan concentrated on Kattan’s back, feeling the tension creeping back to his neck and shoulders.
    The fire that Dovan and Maden had set glowed bright as they approached, casting dancing shadows on Padhag Klen. The men lowered the sedan and Jakan moved forward to stand beside it. This time, however, Kattan made no attempt to stand. He glanced at Jakan and nodded once. As Jakan turned towards the tree, he felt the old man’s hand grab at his, give it a gentle squeeze, then let go. He acknowledged the gesture with another nod, then strode to Padhag Klen before his nerves and emotions could take over.
    In his usual place amongst the roots, he turned to face the Elders. The four sedan carriers were already on their way back down the hill.
    “We seek the Will of Arrakesh.” Jakan’s voice did not carry its usual ring of confidence.
    Grifad’s voice seemed to boom over the others in the response.
    “We will do the Will of Arrakesh,” Jakan continued.
    Again, Grifad’s voice dominated the reply.
    Jakan turned and reached a trembling hand to touch The Tree. Please Arrakesh, he pleaded, no more nightmare visions. A simple SpringSpeak, please! The wind whispered through the high branches, which were just coming into leaf, and somewhere in the distance an owl gave a soft hoot. Reality faded as Jakan slipped further into himself and the mind of Arrakesh.
    A scene emerged, a glade full of apple saplings. In the forest behind, he could see rabbits, hundreds of them, in obvious good health.  Further into the forest, he saw a woman searching for yams in Triffin Glok, the usual place. Her basket was empty. Another woman approached from the east, her basket full.
    The next scene came, reminiscent of his earlier visions, with a glade full of grazing deer. Jakan’s muscles tightened. It was a spring scene. Does nibbled shoots of green grass in the glade, yet they had few young. Those that were there looked sickly and weak. Jakan sighed with relief as the scene faded again without drama.
    Now he stood by the stream. He saw nothing remarkable. The flow was as normal for spring, swollen by the melting ice in the southern mountains. Salmon swam upstream to their spawning hole. Ducks were plentiful and nests dotted the riverbank.
    The scene began to