Shardik (23 page)

‘That’s the strongest reason of all for speed. It’s now or never. We can’t march or keep the field in the wet and nor can they. Even
Bekla
lies low in the rains.
The last thing they’ll be expecti
ng is any sort of attack at this time of year. If they have no warning and we get there before the rains break we shall have complete surprise.’

‘Have they no spies?’

‘We’re not worth spying on, man. Ortelga? A bunch of scavengers perched on the butt-end of an overgrown spit.’

‘But the risk! If the rains come first, before we can fight,
that
will be the end of us. Are you sure
there
‘s time?’

‘Lord Shardik will give us time.’

As he spoke they came suddenly upon a broad slab of rock rising upright from the ground like
a wall. It was flat, about as th
ick as a man’s body, and rose irregularly to a blunt apex an arm’s length above their heads. In the faint light the two sides appeared almost smooth, though as Kelderek groped wonderingly across one of the planes he could feel that it was rougher than it looked, flawed here
and
there
and ridged with excrescent mosses and lichens. The rock was set deep in the soft earth of the forest like
a
wedge hurled down and hammered in by a giant long ago. Beyond, they could make out another, also flat but larger, slightly tilted and of a different shape. This, when they came to it,
they
saw was half-covered on one side with rusty-red lichen like a stain of dried blood. And now they found themselves peering and wandering between numbers of these tall, flat-sided masses - some, like fences, long and no higher than a man’s shoulder, others rising in steep, conical blocks or cut, as it seemed, into flights of steps vanishing upwards in the da
rk: but all worked to an even th
ickncss and sheer-sided like gigantic axe-heads, with never
a
broadening at the foot to anything resembling
a
base or plinth. Among them grew
the
ferns of which the girl had spoken - some huge, like trees, with moss hanging from the
under-sides of their fronds; oth
ers small and delicate, lacc-fronded with tiny leaflets that trembled like aspen leaves in the still air. From hidden places among the rocks there came, even at this time of year, thin tricklings out of the peaty mould, scarcely enough to form anywhere
a
pool bigger
than
a man’s cupped hands; though they shone, where the moonlight caught them, in faint streaks along the stones and the moist, dim fern-boughs. A snatch of breeze brought for an instant the minute pattering of drops blown across
the
shallowest of surfaces.

‘Have you never been here before?’ asked Ta-Kominion, as
Kelderek
stared up at
the
outl
inc of a rock that seemed to be toppling forwards between his eyes and the moving clouds above. ‘These are
the
Two-Sided Rocks.’

‘Once, many years ago, I came here; but I was not old enough
then
to wonder how the rocks were brought - or why.’

‘The rocks were here from the beginning, as I was told. But the men who made the Ledges on Quiso - they worked
them
, as others might trim a hedge or shape a tree, to strike wonder into the hearts of pilgrims approaching Ortelga. For it was here that the pilgrims used to assemble to be guided down to the causeway.’

‘This place is Lord Shardik’s then, as Quiso is, and that is why he has led us here.’

The Tuginda was standing
a
little way off, in an open place among the ferns. Her back was half-turned, her hands clasped at her waist and her head inclined as she gazed into the moonlit distance. Her bearing recalled to
Kelderek
the moment when she had stood on
the
edge of
the
pit, filled with the knowledge
that
it was none other than Shardik lying among the trepsis below. Plainly she was not withdrawn into contemplation, but seemed rather to have attained to some heightened state of
alertness, in which she was
aware with rapture of all that lay about her. Yet just as evidently, her eyes passed through the fern grove as they might have passed through water to perceive - or
partly
perceive - the moving life within it, the silence of the pool. For an instant
Kelderek
understood that not only now, but always, his own eye was filled with reflections from a surface through which her sight passed unimpeded. She seemed to be gazing into the sultry gloom as though at some marvellous spectacle, a dance o
f light and flowers. Yet still th
ere remained about her that air of plain directness and shrewdness that had both deceived and reassured him by the Tereth stone on Quiso. If her prayer had had words, she m
ight have been speaking of leath
er, wood and bread.

Ta-Kominion stopped, withdrew his arm from Kelderek’s and leaned against one of the rock slabs, pressing his forehead against the cool stone.

‘Is that the Tuginda?’

‘Yes.’ He was surprised for a moment, before remembering that Ta-Kominion could never have seen her unmasked - might never, perhaps, have seen her at all.

‘Are you sure?’

Kelderek made no reply.

‘The girl said she was praying.’

‘She is praying.’

Ta-Kominion shrugged his shoulders and pushed himself upright. They went on. While they were still a little distance away the Tuginda turned towards them. Her face, in
the
moonlight, was full of a calm, tranquil joy which seemed to embrace and sanctify rather than transcend the dark forest and the danger and uncertainty surrounding all Ortelga. To
Kelderek
‘s eye, faith streamed from her as light from a lantern.

‘It is she,’ he thought, in a swift access of
self-knowledge, ‘she, not I, th
rough whom the power of Shardik will be transmuted and made a blessing to
us all. Her acceptance and faith
- his force and savagery - they are one and
the
same. He is weak as a dumb creature without knowledge. She is strong as the shoots of the lilies, that great stones cannot prevent from breaking through the earth.’

They stood before her and Kelderek raised his palm to his forehead. Her smile in reply was like the answering step in some happy dance, an exchange of mutual respect and trust.

‘We interrupted you,
saiyett
.’

‘No, we are all doing the same thing - whatever it is. I came here because it’s cooler among the ferns. But we’ll go back to the fire now,
Kelderek
, if you prefer.’

⁴
Saiyett, your wishes
are
mine, and always will be.’ She smiled again. ‘You’re sure?’

He nodded, smiling back at her.

“This is the High Baron of Ortelga, Lord Ta-Kominion. He has come to talk about Lord Shardik.’

*I am afraid you are not well,’ she said, reaching out her fingers to take his wrist. ‘What has happened?’

‘It is nothing, saiyett. I have been telling
Kelderek
that
time
is very short. Lord Shardik must come -‘

At
that
instant, from somewhere in the middle distance, an appalling scream pierced the forest - a cry of fear and agony, confounding the minds of its hearers as lightning dazzles and confounds the eyes. There was a moment’s silence. Then followed another scream, which broke off as suddenly as
though
a man falling in terror from a height had struck the ground.

Kelderek
‘s eye met Ta-Kominion’s and without a word the thought passed between
them
, ‘That was a m
an’s death
-cry.’

Numiss and his companion came running towards them
through
the trees, their swords drawn in their hands.

‘Thank God, my lord! We thought -‘

‘Never mind,’ said Ta-Kominion. ‘Follow me, come on!’

He set off at a run, threading his way in and out of the ferns and tall rocks. The two servants followed. Kelderek, however, remained
with
the Tuginda, suiting his pace to hers as he tried to persuade her to remain out of danger.

‘Be advised, saiyett! Wait here and let me send you word of what we find. You must not risk your life’

‘There’s no risk now,’ she answered. ‘Whatever has happened, it’s past mending.’

‘But there may -‘

‘Give me your arm over these
rocks. Which way did
the
y
oung baron take? The undergrowth
is thick on the edge of the forest, but with luck they will break a way through for us.’

Soon
they
came upon Ta-Kominion and
the
servants hacking with
their
knives at a belt of creepers.

‘Is there no easier way, my lord?’ panted Numiss, picking the trazada thorns from his forearm and stifling his curses as he caught sight of the Tuginda.

‘Very likely there is,’ replied Ta-Kominion, ‘but we must make straight towards where the cry came from, or we shall lose direction and never find the fellow until daylight.’

Suddenly
Kelderek
‘s car caugh
t a sound somewhere between
weeping and the whimpering of fear. It was a woman’s voice, a little distance away.

‘Zilthe!’ he called.

‘My lord!’ replied the girl. ‘Oh, come quickly!’

As Numiss cut his way out through the further side of the creepers, Kelderek followed Ta-Kominion through the gap. He found himself clear of the trees and looking across an open valley. Opposite perhaps half a mile away, the edge of the forest in
the
moonlight showed black and dry as a hide hung to cure on a line. Down in the bottom he could just make out the dark cleft of a brook, while far to his right the Gelt mountains showed dimly against the night sky.

Below the place where they were standing ran the road from Ortelga to Gelt - a track trodden along the hillside between scrub and bushes, with here and there the stump of a long-felled tree and here and there, to mend some muddy or broken place, a patch of stones carried up from the bed of the brook and laid haphazard, to settle to a level with use and time.

Dow
n at the edge of the road Zilthe
, her bow lying beside her, was bending on one knee over
the
dark shape of a body. As Kelderek watched she rose, turned her head and looked up towards him, but evid
ently
could not perceive him among the trees and shadows.

The Tuginda came through the creepers. He poin
ted without speaking and togethe
r
they
began to make their way down. Ta-Kominion, motioning his servants to remain a little behind, muttered, ‘A dead man - but where’s the killer?’

The others made no reply. As
they approached, Zilthe
stepped back from the body. It was lying in blood which glistened viscous, smooth and black in the moonlight. One side of the head had been smashed into a great wound and from below
the
left shoulder blood was still oozing through lacerated rents in the cloak. The eyes were staring wide, but the open mouth and bared teeth were
partly
hidden by one arm which the man must have flung up to try to defend himself. He was wearing heeled boots, the boots of a messenger, and beneath the heels were dents in the ground, which he must have kicked as he died.

The
Tuginda put her arm round Zilthe
‘s shoulders, led her a
little
distance away and sat down beside her. Kelderek followed. The girl was weeping and terrified but able to speak.

‘Lord Shardik, saiyett - he was sleeping. Then he woke suddenly and began to return towards the road,
the
same way
that
he went this afternoon. One would have thought
that
he had some purpose of his own. I tried to follow him but after a little he went fast, as though he were hunting - pursuing. When I reached
the
edge of the