Shardik (102 page)

The girl greeted him with grace and dignity, though her Beklan seemed a
little
halting and he guessed that she, like the gigantic servant, must speak some other as her native tongue. From the window embrasure where they were standing could be seen the sheds and landing-stage a quarter of a mile below, fronting
the swiftl
y undulant water of the strait. She asked him, smiling, whether he had felt afraid during the crossing. Siristrou replied
that
he certainly had.

‘I’m a great coward,’ she said, pouring him a second cup of wine and one for herself. ‘However long I live here, they’ll never get
me
across to the other side.’

‘I know this side is called Zeray,’ said Siristrou. ‘Has the place on the opposite side a name, or is it too new to have one?’

‘It hardly exists yet, as you’ve seen,’ she answered, tossing back her long fall of hair. ‘I don’t know what the Deelguy call it - Yoss Boss, or something like that, I expect. But we call it Bel-ka-Trazet.’

‘That’s a fine-sounding name. Has it a meaning?’

‘It’s the name of the man who conceived the idea of the ferry and saw how it could be made to work. But he’s dead now, you know.’

‘What a pity he couldn’t have seen it complete. I drink to him.’

‘I, too,’ and she touched her silver cup
to his, so that they rang faintl
y together.

‘Tell me,’ he said, finding the words slowly and with some difficulty, ‘- you understand I know nothing of your country, and need to learn as much as I can - what part do women play in - er -well, life; that is, public life? Can they own land, buy and sell, go to - to law and so on - or are they more - more secluded ?’

‘They do none of those things.’ She looked startled. ‘Do they in your country?’

‘Why, yes, these things are certainly possible for a woman - say, one with property whose husband has died - who wishes to stand on her rights and conduct her own affairs, you know.’

‘I’ve never heard of anything like that.’

‘But you - forgive me - I lack the word - your
way
suggests to me that women may have a good deal of freedom here.’

She laughed, evid
ently
delighted. ‘Don’t go by me when you reach Bekla, or some husband will knife you. I’m a
little
unusual, though it would take too long to explain why. I was once a priestess, but apart from that I’ve lived a - very different sort of life from most women. And then again, this is still a remote, half-civilized province, and my husband can do with almost anyone, man or woman -especially when it comes to helping the children. I act freely on his behalf and people accept it, partly because it’s me and
partly
because we need every head and every pair of hands we’ve got.’

Could she once have been some kind of sacred prostitute? thought Siristrou. It did not seem likely. There was a certain delicacy and sensitivity about her which suggested otherwise.

‘A priestess?’ he asked. ‘Of the god of this country?’

‘Of Lord Shardik. In a way I’m still his priestess - his servant, anyway. The girl you saw here just now, Zilthe, was also his priestess once. She was badly injured in his service - that’s how she came to be as you see her now, poor girl. She came here from Bekla. She feels safer and happier with us.’

‘I understand. But Shardik - that’s the second time today I’ve heard his name. “Shardik gave his life for the children, Shardik saved them.”’ Siristrou had always had an excellent phonetic memory.

She clapped her hands,
startled. ‘Why, that’s Dee
lguy you’re speaking now! Wherever did you hear that?’ ‘The ferrymen were singing it on
the raft this morning.’ ‘The Dee
lguy? Were they really?’ ‘Yes. But who is Shardik?’

She stood back, faced him squarely and spread her arms wide. ‘This is Shardik.’

Siristrou, feeling sli
ghtly
embarrassed, looked closely at the robe. Certainly the workmanship was quite unusual. The huge bear, red-eyed and rippling like a flame, stood snarling before a man armed with a bow, while behind, a group of ragged children were crouching upon what appeared to be a tree-lined river-bank. It was certainly a savage scene, but to its meaning there was no clue. Animal worship? Human sacrifice, perhaps ? He feared he might be getting drawn into deep water; and his command of the language was still so deficient. One must at all costs avoid wounding the susceptibilities of this high-spirited girl, who no doubt had great influence with her husband.

‘I hope to learn more about him,’ he said at length, ‘That is certainly a splendid robe - most beautiful workmanship. Was it made in Bekla, or somewhere nearer here?’

She laughed again. ‘Nearer here certainly. The cloth came from Yelda, but my women and I embroidered it in this house. It took us half a year.’

‘ Marvellous work - marvellous. Is it - er - sacred?’

‘No, not sacred, but I keep it for - well, for occasions of importance. I put it on for you, as you see.’

‘You honour me, and - and the robe deserves the lady. There - in a language I’ve been learning for only two months!’ Siristrou was enjoying himself.

She answered nothing, replying to him only with a glance sharp, bright and humorous as a starling’s. He felt a quick pang. Injured arm or no injured arm, the governor was younger than he.

‘Robes like this - not so fine as yours, of course, but of this kind -could they be traded to my country, do you think?’

Now she was teasing him, rubbing her hands and bowing obsequiously, like some greasy old merchant flattering a wealthy customer.

‘Why, surely, kind sir, not a doubt of it. Very most delighted. How many you like?’ Then, seriously, ‘You’ll have to ask my husband about
that
. You’ll fin
d he can talk to you most knowledge
ably about anything that’s made or sold from
Ortelga
to Ikat. He’s mad about trade - he believes in it passionately - he calls it the blood that circulates in the body of the world; and many other terms he has for it - especially when he’s drinking this
Yeldashay
wine. Have some more.’ And again she picked up the flagon. ‘What is the name of your country?’

‘Zakalon. It’s very beautiful - the cities
are
full of flower-gardens. I hope one day you’ll visit it, if only you can overcome your reluctance to crossing the strait.’

‘Perhaps. It’s little enough travelling I’ve ever done. Why, I’ve never even been to
Bekla
, let alone to Ikat-Yeldashay.’

‘All the more reason to become the first woman to go to Zakalon. Come and make our ladies jealous. If you like ceremony,
you must come for the great - e
r -
midsummer festival,
if those
are
the right words.’

‘Yes, they are. Well done! Well, perhaps - perhaps. Tell me, sir-‘

‘Siristrou -
saiyett
.’ He smiled. He had just remembered ‘saiyett’.

‘Tell me, U-Siristrou, do you intend to remain here for a few days, or are you going to press straight on to Kabin?’

‘Why, that’s really for the governor to say. But in the first place, obviously, I shall have to sec to bringing my men and - and beasts over from - from - er - Belda-Brazet -‘

‘
Bel
-ka-Trazet.’

‘- from Bel-ka-Trazet. And then I myself am not altogether in the best of health after the journey. It will be a few days, I think, before we’re ready to start for Kabin. The wilderness and desert were very trying and the men need rest and perhaps a
little
-
I
don’t know the word - you know, play, drink -‘

‘Recreation.’

“That’s it, recreation. Excuse me, I’ll write it down.’ Smiling, she watched him write, shaking her head. “Then if you are here five days from now,’ she said, ‘you and your men will be able to see our spring festival. It’s a very happy occasion

-
there’ll be any amount of -
recreation’,
and a most beautiful ceremony on the shore - at least, it means a lot to us, especially to the children. Shar
a’s Day - that’s the time to see
the flames of God burning bright as stars.’

‘The flames of God?’

‘It’s a kind of joke of my husband’s. He calls the children “the flames of God”. But I was speaking of the ceremony. They decorate a great wooden raft with flowers and green branches, and then it floats away down the river, burning. Sometimes there m
ay be three or four rafts togeth
er. And the children make clay bears and stick them all
full of flowers - trepsis and me
likon, you know - and then at the end of the day they put them on flat pieces of wood and float them away downstream.’

‘Is it some kind of commemoration?’

‘Why, yes - it commemorates Lord Shardik and Shara. This year an old and dear friend of ours is making the journey to be here

-
if all goes well, she’ll be arriving in two or three days’ time. She taught me, long ago, when I was a child -‘

‘Not very long ago.’

‘Thank you. I like compliments, particularly now I have two children of my own. If you’ve not been well, I’d certainly advise you to stay, for then you can ask her help. She’s the greatest healer in all this country. Indeed, that’s
partly
why she’s coming - not on
ly for the festival, but to see
our sick children - we always have a number by the end of winter.’

Siristrou was about to ask her more when the governor returned to the room. He had changed his rough clothes for a plain, black robe, embroidered across the breast alone with the bear and corn-sheaves in silver; and this, so severe by contrast with the brilliance of his wife’s garment, emphasized his grave, lined features and almost mystic air of composure. Siristrou studied his face as he looked down to pour his wine. This, too, he realized suddenly, was a metaphysician by temperament, even though he might have no fluent speech, no articulate ideas. Curiously, there came into his mind those lines of the Zakalonian poet Mitran which
are
spoken by the hero Serat to his consort in the time after making love -‘I desire nothing, I lack for nothing, I
am at the centre of the world,
where sorrow is joy.’ In a moment, however, the governor looked up, the cups clattered and rang on the tray and the charm was snapped.

Siristrou made a complimentary remark about the wine. The lady excused herself and left them and the governor, inviting him to sit, began at once to speak of trade prospects as a betrothed might speak of his approaching marriage. If Siristrou had expected
little
or nothing from the hickory constable of a frontier town, he now found himself compelled to think again. The governor’s questions fell like arrows. How far away was Zakalon? How many permanent camps or staging-forts would be needed to service a regular trade-route? How could Siri
strou be sure that there were no
hostile inhabitants of the wilderness? Given that the Telthearna might be used for downstream transport, what about upstream? The language problem - he could, if desired, send forty older children to Zakalon to be educated as guides and interpreters. Children learned more quickly than men; some of his would jump at such a chance. What goods could Zakalon offer? Horses - what exa
ctly
were they? He looked puzzled as Siristrou began to explain, and they both became confused over language and ended by laughing as Siristrou tried to draw a horse with his finger in spilt wine. Then he promised the governor that the very next day, on one side of the river or the other, he should see a man ride a horse more than twice as fast as he could run. If that were true, replied
the
governor, then Zakalon need look no further for wares to offer for some years to
come. But what did Siristrou th
ink, quite non-committally, might be the trade value of these horses - making a fair allowance, of course, for the cost and effort of transporting them from Zakalon? They began trying to estimate the equivalent values of consignments of wine, of iron and of products of fine craftsmanship such as that of the robe which he had just adrnircd.

The governor called for more wine and the deranged girl served them, sensing their excitement and smiling like an old friend to see the governor busy and happy. Siristrou drank to
Zeray
. The governor drank to Zakalon. They congratulated one another on their propitious meeting and went on to envisage fancifully a future in which men would travel as freely as the birds of the air and goods would pass through
Zeray
from the ends of the earth. The governor obliged Siristrou with a verse of the song which the children had sung, explaining that the tongue was actually his own - Ortelgan - and that the lines were part of a singing game about a cat that caught
a
fish.