Shardik (22 page)

The girls had become adept at m
oving in the dark. Whether they
were following any path or how they knew their way he could not tell and was beginning to feel too feverish to care. His arm throbbed and his hearing seemed continually to change, now magnified, now dulled. He walked behind them in silence, revolving in his mind all that still remained to be done. At length he saw, far-off, the leaping of a fire between the trees. He went towards it, halting as his guides were challenged and answered
with some password. Then he
stepped into the firelight and Kelderek came forward to meet him.

For a few moments they stood looking at one another, each thinking how strange it was that in spite of all that had passed he should not yet be familiar with the other’s face. Then Kelderek dropped his eyes to the fire, stooped and threw on a log, speaking diffid
ently
as he did so.

‘Crendro, Ta-Kominion. I am glad that you have won Ortelga, but sorry to see you wounded. I hope you found the girls waiting?’

Ta-Kominion nodded and sat down on a creeper-covered log. Kelderek remained standing, leaning on a long stake which the girls had been using to stir the fire.

‘Is the wound serious?’

‘It’s of no importance. Others were luckier - others who won’t be afraid to fight again.’ ‘How long did the fight last?’

‘I don’t know. Longer than it took you to get across the strait, I dare say.’

He pulled a splinter from the log. A turn of the breeze blew the smoke into his face but he ignored it Kelderek stirred the fire and shifted his feet At length he said, ‘Most of the Tuginda’s stuff is still on the other side. The women left it this morning when they followed us across the river.’

There was another silence.

‘It puzzles me,’ said Kelderek, ‘that last night, in spite of his hunger, Lord Shardik would not go on through the forest. He must have caught the scent of food from Ortelga, yet he turned back from the Dead Belt and took to the river.’

Ta-Kominion shook his head as though the matter were of
little
interest to him.

‘What has happened to Bel-ka-Trazet?’ asked Kelderek.

‘Oh, he took to the water, like you; not quite so quickly.’

Kelderek drew in his breath and clenched his hand on the stake. After some moments he said,

‘Where has he gone?’

‘Downstream.’

‘Do you mean to pursue him?’

‘It’s not necessary.
He
isn’t a coward, but to us he can be no more dangerous now than if he were.’ He looked up. ‘Where is Lord Shardik?’

‘Over there, not far from the road. He reached the road this afternoon but then went back into the forest. I was near him until moonrise, but I returned to meet you.’

‘What road?’

“The road to Gelt. We are not far from it here.’

Ta-Kominion got up and stood squarely in front of Kelderek, looking down into his face. His back was to the fire and, with his long hair falling forward, he seemed to be wearing a mask of heavy shadows, through which his eyes burned cold and harsh. Without turning his head he said, ‘You may leave us, Numiss.’

‘But where are we to go, my lord?’

Ta-Kominion said nothing more and after a moment the red-haired fellow and his companion slipped away among the trees. Before Ta-Kominion could speak again Kelderek burst out,

‘My place is with Lord Shardik, to follow and serve himl That is my task! I am no coward!’

‘I did not say you were.’

‘I have walked beside Lord Shardik, slept beside him, laid my hands upon him. Is
that
work for a coward?’

Ta-Kominion closed his eyes and passed his hand once or twice across his forehead.

‘I did not come here, Kelderek, either to accuse you or to quarrel with you. I have more i
mportant things to speak of.’

‘You think I’m a coward. You have as good as said so!’

‘What I may have let slip is nothing to do with our affairs now. You’d do better to put such personal ideas out of your mind. Every man in Ortelga who can use a weapon is across the Telthearna and ready to march on Bekla. They’ll start soon - before dawn. I shall join them from here - no need to return to the camp. We shall be at
Bekla
in five days - perhaps sooner. It’s not only surprise we need. We’ve got no more than three days’ food,
but that’s not the whole of it e
ither. Our people have got to take
Bekla
before
they
can lose the power that’s burning in their hearts. Whose, do you suppose, is that power?’

‘My lord ?’ It had slipped out before Kelderek could check himself.

‘It was the power of Shardik that took
Ortelga
today. We were lucky - there were many who saw him before he crossed the causeway. Bel-ka-Trazet was driven out because he was known to be Shardik’s enemy. The people have seen for themselves that Shardik has returned. They believe there’s nothing he won’t give them -nothing they can’t do in his name.’

He took a few uncertain steps back to the log a
nd sat rigid and frowning, fighti
ng a sudden fit of giddiness. For an instant his teeth chattered and he pressed his chin upon his open hand.

‘Shardik has been sent to restore us to Bekla, peasant and baron alike. The peasants need to know no more than that. But I - I have to find the right way, the way to
bring about victory through
Shardik. And this
is
the way - or so it seems to me. Either we take Bekla wit
hin seven days or not at all.’

‘
Why?’

Ta-Kominion paused, as though choosing his words.

‘Common people can sing a song only when
they
are dancing, drinking or about some occupation - then it rises to their lips without thought. Ask them to teach it to you and it’s gone from their heads. While their hearts
are
full of Shardik our men will do the impossible - march without sleep, fly through the air, tear down the walls of Bekla. But in the hearts of common men such power is like mist. The wind or the sun - any unexpected adversity - may disperse it in an hour. It must be given no chance to disperse.’ He paused and then said deliberately, ‘But there is more besides. Out of sight, out of mind. You understand children, I’m told. So you’ll know that children forget what is not kept before their eyes.’

Kelderek
stared, guessing at his meaning.

‘Shardik must be with us when we come to fight,’ said Ta-Kominion. ‘It is all-important that the people should see him there.’

‘At
Bekla
- in five days? How?’

‘You must tell me how.’

‘Lord Shardik cannot be driven a hundred paces and you are speaking of five days’ jour
ney!
’

‘
Kelderek
, Bekla is a city more rich and marvellous than a mountain made of jewels. It is ours of ancient right and Shardik has returned to restore it to us. But he can restore it only by means of ourselves. He needed my help to take
Ortelga
today. Now he needs your help to bring him to Bekla.’

‘But that is impossible! It was not
impossible
to take Ortelga.’

‘No, no, of course not - an easy matter, I dare say, to those who did not happen to be there. Never mind.
Kelderek
, do you want to cease to be a simpleton playing with fatherle
ss children on the shore? To see
Shardik come in power to Bekla? To bring to its right end the work you began on that night when you faced
Bel
-ka-Trazet’s hot knife in the Sindrad? There
must
be a way! Either you find it or we are fast on a sheer cliff. You and I and Lord Shardik — it is we who are climbing, and there is no way back. If we do not take Bekla, do you think the
Bekla
n rulers will let us alone? No - they will hunt us down. They will not be long in dealing
with
you and your bear.’

‘My bear?’

‘Your bear. For that is what he will become, Lord Shardik of the Ledges, who is ready at this moment to give us a great city and all its wealth and power, if only we can find the means. He will shrink
to a creature of superstition, over which some rough fellows on Ortelga have made trouble and turned out their High Baron. A stop will be put to him - and to you.’

A great bat came hovering out of
the
darkness, flittered soundlessly along the edge of the fire, turned away from the crackling heat and vanished as it had come.

‘Kelderek, you say I think you’re a coward. Is it I that think it, or you? It’s not too late for you to redeem yourself,
Kelderek
Play-with-the-Children: to show yourself a man. Find a way to bring Lord Shardik to the plains of Bekla - fight for him there with your own hands. Think of
the
p
rize - a prize beyond reckoning!
Do this, and no one will ever call you a coward again.’

‘I never was a coward. But the Tuginda -‘

For the first time, Ta-Kominion smiled at him.

‘I know you
are
not. When we have taken
Bekla
, what reward do you suppose there will be for him to whom Shardik first appeared, for him who brought the news to Quiso? Why, there is not a man on
Ortelga
who doe
s not know your name and honour it already.’

Kelderek
hesitated, frowning.

‘How soon must we begin?’

‘At once - now. There is not a moment to lose. There are two things,
Kelderek
, that a rebel leader needs above all. First, his followers must be filled with a burning ardour - mere obedience is not enough - and secondly he himself must be all speed and resolution. The second I myself possess. The first only you can ensure.’

‘It may perhaps be possible: but I shall need every blacksmith, wheelwright and carpenter in Ortelga. Let us go and speak with the Tuginda.’

As Ta-Kominion rose, Kelderek offered him the support of his arm, but the baron waved him aside, staggered a few steps, hesitated, then himself put his sound arm through Kelderek’s and drew himself upright, leaning hard until he found his balance.

‘Are you ill?’

‘It’s nothing - a touch of fever. It will pass off.’ ‘You must be tired out. You ought to rest.’ ‘Later.*

Kelderek
guided him away from the fire. In the close darkness un
der the trees they paused, sightl
ess after the flame-light. A hand plucked Kelderek’s sleeve and he turned, peering. . ‘Shall I guide you, my lord? Are you returning now to Lord Shardik?’

‘Is it your watch, Neelith?’

‘My watch is ended, m
y lord. I was coming to wake She
ldra, but it’s no matter if you need me.’ ‘No, get to sleep. Who is
watching Lord Shardik?’ ‘Zilthe
, my lord.’ ‘Where is the Tuginda?’

The girl pointed, ‘Down yonder, among the ferns.’ ‘Is she asleep?’

‘Not yet, my lord; she has been praying this hour and more.’

They left the girl and, their eyes becoming accustomed to the dark, moved on more easily. Soon the trees grew fewer and the close growth overhead opened here and there to reveal clouds and moonlight. The white beams faded and reappeared continually between the branches as the clouds drifted eastward across the moon. The turbid heat of the forest, a single block of dense air lying all about them, seemed no
w to begin to be assailed, whittl
ed, rifted, encroached upon by gusts and momentary, cooler currents coming and going like the first wavelets of flood-water lapping round a dry shoal. As the leaves and light shifted in response to the breeze outside,
the
mass of the hot darkness on
the
ground sdrrcd, slow and heavy as a bed of weed under water. As yet unpenetrated, it felt already on its outskirts the first impulse of that appointed, seasonal force that soon would grow to split it
with
lightning and storm.

Ta-Kominion stopped, lifting his head and sniffing the fresher air.

‘The rains can’t be lon
g now.’ ‘A day or two,’ replied K
elderek
.