This is text I found in an old notebook, I don’t believe the previous chapters still exists. Its labeled “chapter 5, Spirit of the Wood.” Looks like a rough text, and there’s even a note to myself to re-write it, so please excuse errors herein:

It must be the Teline, Loric mused to himself. How else could it be that I have died yet I still see?
When the tendrils of the Devathma released me I saw many of the villagers, Their dead brown faces  wearing masks of mourning. The wailing of the women was loud in my ears, but I could not move to cover them.
I saw Dernhelm dispatch the Devathma with a single blow. He broke the horn from the devathma and it was hollow and dry on the inside. He blew thru it and his call was answered in the Vilage.  Death! Death!  I do not to be dead. I shake myself hard to show him I am alive but my body doesn’t move. Look at me Uncle! I live! I saved the dagger of my father from the pit.  Its there on the ground by your feet!
Two others come and lift me up. I am moved but I cannot move. I don’t feel their grip on my arms and legs. The sound of Bullroarers travels around in the village. I am lain on dry reeds among my friends. I get a glimpse of Jakul and Hiram both with matted hair and covered with a light blue clay. Were they in the pit too I ask, or some other trial? I want to cry but my eyes are dead,
== Rewrite  so that all Downlanders get to switch each boy (ouch!) and then toss it on the pyre…) ==
they will not cry for me now. I try to look away but my eyes will not close. Now all I can see is the sky and the treetops. Did I do well? What are they doing to me?
The Village is quiet now. Have they left us all here for the birds to find? Did we somehow bring shame on our families and they are rejecting our bodies, refuting the manhood of our dead bodies?
No. I can hear Dernhelm talking, but his words are not clear. He’s mumbling something and the downlanders are responding, chanting.
Mumble mumble chant, mumble mumble chant.
Ah! Now I see him! He’s leaning over Jakul. There’s his father–what are they doing with those switches? They’re striking his body!
“He is dead, my son is dead. The Village has lost a hand.” He moves on. Hiram’s mother is coming by with his sister’s help. He hasn’t walked without help since the net fell on her and took her husband…and my father. My Father! Who will cry for me? THere is no one to show the Village that I am dead.  My father died on the nets, my sister has left, and Oldsir had his second vision and is with the Spirit now.  I wonder if they will hang me in a tree or plant me in the hollow of the Asking tree where Eidie can come and ask my spirit who should marry who?
Now Dernhelm is giving her the switch. She’s hitting Hiram on the head, the chest, and the legs. I see litle puffs of blue dust rise each time she hits. Are you dead Hiram? Was your song strong enough to join the Spirit of the Wood or are you there, trapped liked I am?
“He is dead my chief, my son is dead. The village has lost a hand.” Dernhelm is looking at me now. He going to hit me. I should have guessed. My uncle is the only Tolorion left in the village. I try to feel pain but it isn’t there. The world has gotten fuzzy. One…two…three.  I am dead! Is that blood on the switch? How can the dead bleed?
“He is dead. My Brother’s son is dead. The village has lost a hand.”
For a moment Dernhelm thought he saw his nephew’s mouth twitch like he was coming back from the dead.  His open, unfocused eyes are disturbing to look at. If the boy was to come alive now it would look bad. The ceremony must be finished.
With a frown he leaned down close and closed Loric’s eyes and then motioned the Speaker for Animals to come forward. He growled, howled, and hissed a song of mourning for the fallen boys and the (can’t make out what I wrote here, sorry., looks like ‘ he blew flames from the nostrils of an ape’s ehad he wore and set the dry rushes aflame. All the switches from the ceremony where added to the pyre. Dernhelm watched them smoulder darkly and pop into flame. This was the hardest part — the waiting until the right moment to signal the final passge from the deadh of a boy to the life of a man.
Finally, flames all but obscured the bodies and he could smell the hair beginning to singe. he blew three short bursts on the horn of the Devathma and the pyres immediately collapsed in on themselves. He knew that underneath the supports the boys were being wrapped in hides and coated with healing salves. Usually the blue clay was proof enough against the flames, but sometimes scarring happened when the Chief did not do his job well. Dernhelm grunted to himself. THAT had never happened since he had become chief.
He led a procession of women to the river where they would keen and smite the water and call upon the Spirit to recieve the boys with favor.
THere were rush boats to build, octli to be consumed and tales to be told. Later after the Elders had joined htem he would leave quietly to care for Loric’s body. After the body had been sealed in a caul and left for the Spirit , Dernhelm could look forward to a quiet evening in the village.
The boy was too much like his grandfather to come back after a day or two with only a tale of his death and of singing with the Spirit. He would actually try to bring something to the village to hep us understan the Spirit better.
Smiling to himself, Dernhelm passed into the trees remembering when he too believe the Spirit guarded them.  That was before he had become Chief and certain mysteries were revealed to him. Rituals guided every action the Downlanders took from birth to death, not the Spirit of the Wood. He would make no hearthfire for Loric– could not, the Spirit did not move him anymore…