Shardik (100 page)

‘Shardik - who’s he?’

Another terrific lurch. Tan-Rion grinned, raised either hand in
a
gesture of helplessness and shrugged his shoulders. A few moments later he shouted, ‘Nearly there!’

Gradually they came into slack water. Over the last hundred yards the men stopped chanting and pulled the raft in m
ore easily. A coiled rope was th
rown from the landing stage and a few moments later they had touched. Siristrou gripped an offered hand and for the first time in his life stepped ashore on the right bank of the Varin.

The raft had been drawn into a kind of dock made of stout stakes driven into the shallows. It was the sight of this from the opposite bank which had perplexed him earlier that morning. As
the
Deelguy labourers clambered to shore six or seven boys,
the
eldest no more than about thirte
en years old, jumped aboard, unloaded the baggage and then, having opened the hinged rings, released the rope and began poling the raft down the dock towards a similar rope at the further end. Siristrou, turning away, saw Tan-Rion pointing back at himself and his party. He was standing a
little
way off, talking to
a
black-haired youth who seemed to have some kind of authority on the landing-stage, for he suddenly interrupted Tan-Rion to call out an order to
the
children aboard
the
raft. A crowd was gathering. Those working on the half-finished, warehouse-like sheds near by had apparently downed tools to come and stare. Siristrou stared back with a certain perplexity, for most of them were mere boys. However, he had no
further
opportunity to speculate, for Tan-Rion came up to him, together with the black-haired youth, who bowed rather formally and offered his hand. He was ugly, even forbidding, with
a
cast in one eye and a birthmark across his face; but his manner, as he uttered a few words of greeting, was courteous and welcoming enough. He was wearing some kind of badge or emblem - a bear’s head between two corn-sheaves - and Siristrou, unable to understand his Beklan (which did not sound native), smiled, nodded and touched it
with
his forefinger by way of a friendly gesture.

‘This young fellow’s in charge of the harbour lads,’ said Tan-Rion. ‘His name’s Kominion, but most of us just call him Shouter. I’ve sent a man to tell the governor of your arrival and ask for a house to be put at your disposal. As soon as we know where it is, Shouter will get your baggage up there - you can leave it quite safely with him. It’ll take a little while, of course, and I’m afraid you may find your quarters rather rough: this is a frontier town, you see. But at least I can make sure that you get a meal and a fire while you have to wait. There’s quite a decent tavern up here, where you can be comfortable and private - a place called “The Green Grove”. Now come on, stand back, you lads,’ he shouted. ‘Leave the foreign
ers alone and get back to work!
’

Glad at least of firm ground after the flood-race in the strait, Siristrou, walking beside his guide, led his men across the waterfront and up towards the town, which looked as busy and ramshackle as a rookery.

‘- obliged to leave the horses on the eastern bank, and upon my re-crossing intend to despatch
this
letter by two or th
ree horsemen:
though
I shall miss them, for all those with me have done well under hard conditions, and I commend them to Your Majesty’s favour.

‘For the Varin ferry crossing that
these
people have developed, it is ingenious and gives me hope that we may profit by commerce with so resourceful a people. The Varin here is relatively narrow, the strait being perhaps four and a half hundred yards dire
ctly
across, from
this
town of Zeray to
the
opposite shore. The current, accordingly, flows very fast, too fast for navigation, while below lies
the dangerous gorge known as Beree
l, of which I have al
ready written and which they greatl
y fear. Yet this current they have turned to account, for from Zeray they have contrived to stretch two ropes across the river, one to a point on
the
opposite bank some thousand yards upstream, while the other is secured a similar distance downstream. This, I am told, was effected with great difficulty in the first place by conveying one end of each rope across the river several miles upstream, in safer water, and then man-handling either
end downstream along the banks, little by little, to
their
present anchoring points. Each rope is about twelve hundred yards long and took several months to make.

‘There
are
three ferry rafts, each perhaps five or six paces square, which make a circuit of three journeys. First, the crossing-rope having been secured through iron rings, it is drawn from Zeray across the river, the opposite point being so far downstream
that
it goes almost with the current. Upon its arrival they release
the
raft from the rope and then, once unloaded, it is drawn upstream by oxen in the slack water under the shore. The distance must be about a mile and a quarter and over
this
whole length
they
have dredged and cleared the inshore water, straightened the shore and paved it for the beasts’ hoo
ves. At the upstream point, a th
ousand yards above Zeray, the raft is secured to the second rope and thus makes the return crossing, once more having the current behind it.

‘The ropes, I am told, will need to be renewed once a year, and this means that a principal labour of upkeep is the making, each year, of well over a mile of stout rope. The rafts - the first
they
have made -
are
as yet clumsy and precarious, but serve their purpose. The main impediment, I learned, is from floating branches and the like which, drifting down river, foul the ropes and have to be disengaged or cut loose; but these can be avoided to some extent by leaving the ropes slack when not in use.

‘We are now installed in a house here: poor enough, for the whole town is but a rough place, but at least sound and clean. Later this afternoon I am to meet the governor and shall, of course, present Your Majesty’s message of goodwill. Soon after, I believe, we are to travel westwards some thirty or forty miles to a town called Kabin where, if I have understood corre
ctly
, there is a reservoir supplying the city of
Bekla
. It is here, and in another city which they call Igat or Ikat, that we hope to speak with the rulers about trade with Zakalon.

‘There is one feature of this town which Your Majesty, I am sure, would find as puzzling as I, and that is the great number of children who seem to work, sometimes without any grown man in charge, and to carry out on their own account much of the business of the place. Where a task requires skilled direction as, for example, the building of the new warehouses on the waterfront, they work under the bidding of the masons, but in other, simple tasks they seem often to have their own foremen, older children who direct them without other supervision. Their work, though serviceable, is, from what
little
I have seen, rough, but for this place it does well enough, and certainly the children seem for the most part in good spirits.

In this house we are looked after by three grave lasses of no more than eleven or twelve years of age, who take
their
task very seriously and clearly feel it an honour to have been chosen to tend the foreign strangers. My men stare, but
the
girls are not to be put out of countenance. They speak an argot and I can understand
little
of what they say, but it is no matter.’

There was a light knock at the door. Siristrou looked up and, not calling to mind the Beklan for ‘Come in’, made a noise which he hoped was expressive of encouragement and assent. One of the serving-children opened the door, raised her palm to her forehead and stood aside to admit the biggest man Siristrou had ever seen. His leather jerkin, which bore the emblem of the Bear and Corn-Sheaves, seemed ready to split across his massive chest, and his skin breeches - appar
ently
made for a man of more normal size - reached about half-way down his calves. Over one shoulder he was carrying easily a large and extremely full-looking sack. He grinned cheerfully at Siristrou, raised his pal
m to his forehead and said, ‘Cre
ndro.’

This word was unknown to Siristrou, but as it was evid
ently
a greeting he replie
d ‘Crendro’ and waited expectantl
y. His visitor’s next utterance, however, beat him altogether and he could only conclude that he must be speaking in some strange tongue or dialect.

‘Can you speak Beklan?’ he asked haltingly. ‘I understand - a little Beklan.’

‘Why, me too, my lord,’ answered the giant, dropping into mangled but comprehensible
Bekla
n with another amiable smile. ‘Living here, you can’t help picking it up after a fashion. Ah, it’s a strange town, this is, and that’s the truth. So you’re the foreign prince, eh, that’s come over on the ferry? ‘Going to make all our fortunes, I dare say - or so they tell us. Best respects, my lord, sir.’

By this time Siristrou had perceived that his visitor was evid
ently
some kind of servant - from his manner, a privileged one; but one also who would need keeping in check if he were not to become garrulous t
o the point of presumption. With
out a smile, therefore, and in a business-like manner, he said, ‘You have a message for me?’

‘Why,
that
‘s so, my lord,’ replied the man. ‘My name’s Ankray -I look after the governor and his lady. Governor got back from Lak an hour or two after noon and heard you were here; so he says to me, “Ankray,” he says, “if you’re going down to
the
water-front you can just bring me back a sackful of
those
thick
blocks they’re using down there -
the
ones that came in from Tonilda the other day - and on your way home you can step in, like, to that there foreign prince
gentle
man and tell him I’ll be happy to see him whenever it suits him to come.” So if it’s quite convenient to you, my lord, you might just be stepping along with me now, as you don’t know
the
way, and I’ll take you up there.’

‘It sounds as though it’s convenient to
you,
at all events,’ said Siristrou, smiling in spite of himself.

‘My lord?’

‘Never mind,’ answered Siristrou, who had now, with kindly shrewdness, grasped that his man was something of a simpleton. ‘I will be ready to come with you dire
ctly
.’

It was not the kind of summons to the governor that he had been expecting: but no matter, he
thought
; this was a small town; there was nothing of importance to be heard or done here; the real diplomacy would come later, in the cities to the westward. Nevertheless, one must be courteous to this governor, who might even be the man responsible for designing and constructing the ferry. As he thought of the probable number of such interviews ahead of him - to say nothing of all the uncomfortable travelling - he sighed. King Luin, in his way, had paid philosophers a compliment in sending one to find out about trade. Yet for all the King’s notions, it was not trade, but ideas, that truly advanced civilization: and of those, in this country, there were likely to be about as many as stars in a pond. He sighed again, folded and pocketed his unfinished letter to the king, and called to Thyval to bring him his good cloak and make ready to attend him to the governor’s house.

The giant led the way, conversing easily in his atrocious Beklan without appar
ently
worrying in the least wheth
er Siristrou understood him or not, and carrying his bulging sack as lightly as if it had been a fisherman’s keep-net,

‘Ah, now, this town’s changed a great deal, my lord, you see. Now, the Baron, he always used to say, “Ankray,” he used to say, “that ferry, once we get it put
across the river, that ferry’ll
bring in a deal of foreigners, coming over for what they can find -” begging your pardon, my lord. “They’ll bring all manner of things with them and one will be our prosperity, you mark my words.” Of course, the Baron, very likely he’d be surprised out of his life to see all the children here now; though myself, I like them, and there’s no denying they can often do very well
with
anything, once they understand what’s to be done. I’d never have
thought
it possible, but it’s these new-fangled ideas, you see, of
the
governor’s. Now only the other day, down at the water-front -‘