Across the Face of the World (39 page)

With visible effort Farr stood up, his back and shoulders taking the weight. He stepped forward to show them all that he could manage the weight.

The Fodhram applauded, and the shabby one looked quizzically at the brave coastlander.

'Another bale!' Farr commanded, and bent down to further increase his burden. This time his powerful legs struggled to raise the load, but with a supreme effort of will he stood upright, the three bales balanced one upon another.

This time the Fodhram yelled their approval, real respect on their faces. Farr, his own face flushed with the effort, sank to his knees, from where willing hands took his burden from his shoulders.

'Truly remarkable!' Scar-face said. 'Three bales on the shoulder!'

'Three is not five,' Farr responded. 'And a few shaky steps is not nine miles uphill.' His voice left no doubt: he was in awe of these fur traders.

The Fodhram looked at each other again, this time a little guiltily.

Actually, we have a small confession to make,' the tallest one said.

'What?' Farr cried. 'You were lying to us?'

'No!' they laughed. 'Only we have a little help in carrying our bales, and here it is.' Each man took from his belt a leather strap about a foot long and three inches wide, with holes at each end. As the Company watched, they pulled rope from their pockets and tied lengths of it to each end of their straps. Smaller straps were then produced and tied to the loose ends of the rope, making a sort of cradle.

'This is a tumpline,' Scar-face said, indicating his strap arrange¬ment. 'Here's how we use it.'

He placed the broad strap across his forehead, allowing the ropes to hang down behind him.

Shabby then took a bale and placed this at the bottom of the cradle, resting on the small of Scar-face's back. Two further bales were placed on top of the anchoring bale, and the three bales fitted snugly against his back. As he stood, his powerful neck and shoulder muscles easily took the strain.

'With a bit of practice, a man can go a long way with three bales and a tumpline.' The Fodhram laughed together and looked at Farr.

Leith also looked with apprehension at the hot-headed moun¬tain man, waiting for the inevitable explosion. But it didn't come. Instead, a slow smile spread over Farr's features, eating up the tension that invariably locked his face up tight.

'A tumpline, you say it is called?' he said with a grin. 'Will you show me how to make one?'

'Indeed,' Taller replied. 'In fact, we'll make a tumpline for you in honour of three bales lifted without one. That is a feat worth retelling!' The others echoed their approval, and Farr's grin grew wider. Leith had never seen the man look so pleased.

The Fodhram leader returned to find the coastlanders practising enthusiastically with tumplines and bales. All except the Storrsens contented themselves with two bales: while heavy, the weight did not seem unmanageable. They walked bent under the load, as though they were about to topple forward with every step. Once they had got under way, the weight of the bales actually kept them going. Round and round the ruins of Fort Brumal they paraded

-all except the Haufuth, who excused himself by patting his huge stomach and complaining that he was already carrying more than the rest of them. So he sat on a slab of stone, saying nothing, seemingly unmoved by the hilarious antics of his countrymen as they jerked about under their loads of pelts.

'Excellent, excellent!' Leader boomed. 'We'll make Fodhram of you before we're finished!'

The Fodhram laughed together at the thought of coastlanders working the fur trails, and the Company laughed with them. Then they collapsed on to the snow-covered ground, sloughing off their burdens and laughing for the sheer exhilaration of it all. The good humour of the Fodhram seemed to be infectious; none of the Company really knew why they laughed. But it was some time before the Fodhram leader could continue.

'The Hermit has agreed to the trade,' he reported. 'On one condition. He wants to see our party before he will give us his provisions.'

'Why?' Farr asked, outraged. 'Wasn't giving him Wisent enough?'

'Don't worry,' the Fodhram leader responded quickly. 'We'd all have to help with the provisions anyway, and his abode is hardly out of our way. And,' he added, 'you never know -

he might have something to our advantage.'

'What could an old hermit possibly offer us?' Leith whispered to his brother.

'Nobody said he was old,' Leader replied.

The Hermit lived in a cave deep under a tree-crowned hill. In times long forgotten a few intrepid drops of water had found their way into cracks in a great limestone block, dissolving a tiny hole for other drops to follow. Water and ice worked hard, day and night, summer and winter, for year after year in the youth of the world, hollowing out the roots of the limestone hill. Then one day desperate men discovered the cave, exploring the depths of its passages and the heights of its caverns, never guessing that the vast network of caves had been created by drops of water.

For many years the cave was the haunt of robbers, a base for raids on the Westway. The bandits left bones strewn around the Portals, and travellers found other paths from Firanes to the rest of Faltha. Then the peoples of Withwestwa Wood began fur trap¬ping in the area, and fought inconclusive battles with the robbers. Finally Whitebirch of Woodsmancote raised an army which laid siege to the limestone cave. The robbers, under a fierce leader whose name has not survived, held out for months, being well provisioned and having an abundant supply of water. That final charge, with hand-to-hand fighting in the tunnels and caverns of the great hill, became the defining legend of the Fodhram people, the day when the clans of the deep woods forgot their enmity in the face of a common foe. Whitebirch and the bandit leader fought with swords on a stone table in the main cavern, and after a desperate battle the robber king was felled with a sword-thrust; but Whitebirch himself suffered mortal hurt, dying on the road home.

All this the Fodhram leader told Leith and the others as they approached the limestone hill.

Ahead it lay, dark in cloud-shadow, as though it brooded over the evil that had fermented in its bowels.

Suddenly the Hermit appeared, blue-robed and shimmering at the base of the dark mass. Leith gasped. From where had he come?

The man beckoned for them to approach. As they drew close, they saw a narrow crack, a line of blackness in the grey of the hill¬side. It was from here that the Hermit had emerged. The trav¬ellers made their way through the opening, at one point having to duck as the roof lowered. 'Watch your heads!' their host growled as he led them into the bowels of the hill.

The Hermit was not at all what Leith had imagined. Scarcely more than forty years of age, the tall, well-built man looked more like a courtier than a hermit. He had a shaven face, long, flowing golden locks, intense eyes and a prominent brow which he employed to scowl at his guests.

'Sit down,' he indicated with a stab of the finger. They stood in a wide, torch-lit chamber. A narrow crack in the roof led upwards to the sunlight and a single shaft of light shone down on to a stone table laden with bread and meat. Around the sandy floor of the cavern were a number of rocks worn smooth by the passage of time. These the Company used as seats. A small fire flickered redly in one corner, sending a spiral of smoke drifting upwards to the crack in the roof.

'Eat your fill,' the Hermit said gruffly. 'I will not join you; I have an experiment I do not care to abandon.' Without waiting for a reply, he stalked away into a separate chamber. Hungry enough to ignore their host's strange manner, the travellers began to sample the more-than-ample fare. Wine, fresh bread and salted meats. Whatever else he was, the Hermit was no ascetic.

He returned just as they finished their meal, and insisted on formal introductions to the Company. As they gave him their names he nodded and whispered them under his breath, as though memorising them. Finally he came over to where Leith sat with his brother.

Hal offered his name and received his perfunctory welcome to Bandits' Cave as though it was a gift. Leith smiled inwardly. Hal lived a lonely life, the only mystic in a farming village.

Perhaps he and the Hermit might make friends.

Then the blue-robed man turned his eyes on Leith, and instantly his eyes lit up with recognition. Indifference shrugged off like a discarded cloak, he announced solemnly: 'This is the one I have been waiting for.' He turned to Kurr. 'I must speak with this man.'

The puzzled travellers looked at each other, then at Kurr, who shrugged his shoulders. What could the Hermit possibly want with Leith? How could he have been waiting for him? Surely he had not known Leith was coming? Could this man be a Bhrudwan spy?

The blond-haired man peered closely at the Loulean youth. 'I have been shown aspects of your future. I will tell you what they are, if you wish it.'

'What do you mean, you have been shown?' Leith was cautious.

'I mean that I have seen what is to come.' The Hermit sounded quite certain about it, and seemed unperturbed by the blank look on the boy's face. 'Don't you have prophets in your country?'

Leith shook his head.

'Well, do you want to hear what I have to say?'

Leith shrugged his shoulders, unconsciously echoing Kurr's gesture. Why not? It can't do any harm.

Suddenly Hal stood, then pushed his way between the two. 'Answer me this,' he said, facing their host, his voice clipped in what Leith recognised as anger. 'Who gives you permission to speak to my brother?'

'Permission?' the Hermit echoed, taken aback. 'Why should 1 need permission? What custom is this?'

'You have not told us by what authority you will speak these words. Do you read the future using your own power?'

'Of course not!' the Hermit snapped. 'I hear the words of the Most High and repeat them!'

'So you claim the authority of the Most High for your prophecy.7'

'Certainly! 1 do not speak on my own behalf, but on His.' The Hermit grew increasingly testy.

He was experienced in the Realm of Fire. What made this boy think he could question the prophet?

'Hal, Hal!' the Haufuth cried, placing an arm on the cripple's shoulder. 'What is the matter?

Why do you treat our host so rudely?'

'Then 1 rephrase my question. Did you get express permission from the Most High to speak out these words?'

'What possible reason could I have been given the words, other than to share them with the one they are intended for?'

'In other words you presumed. You seek to speak words in public that are better kept private, without asking permission of the owner of the words, and without telling us whose words they are, thereby taking glory for yourself. How do you think the Most High will regard your behaviour?'

'My behaviour?' the Hermit cried. 'It is not my behaviour that is in question here! This is my house; who are you to come here and lecture me on what I can say to my guests?' Spittle sprayed from his mouth at the vehemence of his speech. 'Always there is someone who wants to crush the words of the prophet!'

'I am more concerned for the effect you might have on my brother!' Hal retorted.

'The Most High will be pleased His words were given voice! Your brother needs to hear them!'

Again the Haufuth tried to stop the argument, but he might as well have tried to stop rain falling, for all he achieved.

'Even if correct, your words may ruin everything if their timing is not right,' Hal continued, as though he was a teacher and the Hermit was his pupil. 'Now listen carefully, for 1 have a word for you. "Rejoice more in the speaker than in the words spoken." Do you understand?'

The Hermit drew himself up to his full height and loomed over Hal as though about to strike him. But before he could respond further, the cripple spun around and looked his fellow travellers in the eye.

'I know you think I am impolite to our host,' he said. 'You wonder how I can object to his words before they are spoken. But it will be too late to object once they have been said!' He grimaced, as though he had finally realised that he was not making a good impression, then made it worse by adding: 'I would not expect you to understand issues of the Realm of Fire.'

With these words the cavern burst into an uproar. Kurr and the Haufuth demanded Hal apologise for his arrogance, and while others tried to calm them down the Hermit stood against a wall, arms folded, a slight smile on his face at the cripple's discomfi¬ture.

Eventually Kurr's bellows cut through the noise and the cave fell quiet.

The old farmer took a deep breath. 'I am at a loss for words,' he said, 'though first I must offer the Hermit our apologies for such disgraceful behaviour.' He inclined his head to their host. 'I thought we learned our lesson the last time we accepted the hospitality of others. Did our narrow escape from the Fenni mean nothing to us?' He turned to Hal, ready to dress him down

-then snapped his mouth shut. Something invisible flashed between the old farmer and the youth, and Kurr's features soft¬ened.

'I - I. . . perhaps we are all tired,' he finished lamely. 'Maybe we will see things differently after a restful night's sleep.'

'Or perhaps you all need to learn something of the Most High,' the Hermit said, disgust in his voice. 'My offer of hospitality is withdrawn. I will not ask you to leave immediately, as I owe my Fodhram friends a debt for finding a pack animal for me; though I would have no qualms about putting you out into the snow. However, I expect you to be gone from my house before I rise tomorrow morning. And be warned, I rise early!'

Within moments Leith had been left alone in the cavern. 'What about my prophecy?' he said softly, but there was no one left to hear him.

* * *

Some time later, the Hermit returned to find the young man sitting on the sandy floor by the dying fire. 'Do you not require sleep, youngster?'

'I don't want sleep,' Leith replied. 'I want to know what you were going to say to me.'

'Of course you do,' said the Hermit, and his voice was edged with a compassion that had been absent before. 'Will it cause a problem between you and your brother if I tell you?'