Shardik (21 page)

The darkness burst apart. He caught his breath and drew in the air. Sunlight was glittering on the water and sparkling in his eyes. He was clutching Shardik’s flank, hanging by his clenched hands, tossing up and down, while beside him the great off-hind leg trod water as fast as mill-wheels strike. Scarcely able at first to realize what had happened, he knew only that he was alive and that he could still get ashore before the town was left behind.

The bear had not turned its head or tried to shake him off, and indeed seemed unaware of him. He was puzzled by its indifference. Then, as his head and sight grew clearer, he sensed that it was intent upon something else, some purpose of its own. It was turning shoreward, to the left, and swimming more strongly. He could not see over the ridge of its back, but as it turned still further, land appeared beyond its shoulder. A moment later it was wading. He let his feet drop, touched bottom and found himself standing, submerged almost to his shoulders, on firm stones.

They came ashore together, the bear and the man, close to the now cold cooking-fires, the duster of storage huts and servants* quarters lying shoreward of the Sindrad. Shardik, in his eagerness, thrust the water aside, splashing and shouldering through the shallows as though
in pursuit of prey. Suddenly Kel
derek saw the way of it The bear was hungry - famished - desperate for food at any cost Something had
turned it back from the Dead Bel
t, but nevertheless it must have smelt food while lying in the forest and this was why it had plunged into the river. He remembered what Bd-ka-Trazet had said before leaving the Tuginda, ‘If it begins to plague Ortelga, I promise you I will have it killed.’

Stumbling and still half-drowned, he began to follow Shardik up the slope of the shore, but tripped and fdl his length. For some moments he lay inert, then raised himself on one elbow. As he did so two men appeared from behind the nearest hut, carrying an iron cauldron between them and making for the water. They were bleary-eyed and tousled, scullions routed out of bed to the first chores of the day. The bear was almost on top of them before they looked up and saw i
t The cauldron fel
l to the stones with a booming sound and for an instant they stared, fixed in grotesque attitudes of shock and terror. Then, shrieking, they turned to run. One disappeared by the no way he had come. The other, blind with fear, blundered into the wall of
the
hut, hit his head and stood dazed, swaying on his feet Shardik, following, reared up and struck him. The blow knocked the poo
r wretch bodily through the wattl
e-and-daub of the hut wall, smashing it open in a ragged gap. Shardik struck
a
second time and the wall collapsed, bringing down part of the roof above. The air was filled with dust and with smoke from the new-lit hearth buried beneath the ruins. Women were screaming, men running and shouting. A burly man in a leather apron, holding
a
hammer, appeared suddenly through the haze, stared a moment petrified, and was gone. Above all the hubbub rose the growling roar of Shardik,
a
sound like the sliding of heavy stones down a hillside.

Kelderek, watching from where he had fallen, saw the bear lumber away into the smoke and confusion. Suddenly he felt hands under his armpits and a voice shouted in his ear.

‘Get up, Kelderek, get up, man! There’s no time to lose! Follow me!’

Ta-Kominion was beside him, his long hair streaming water as he dragged
Kelderek
to his knees. In his left hand he was holding
a
long, sharp-pointed dagger.

‘Come on, man! Have you got a weapon?’

‘Only this.’ He drew She
ldra’s knife.

‘That’ll do! You can soon grab yourself a better.’

They dashed forward round the burning ruins. On the further side was lying a man’s body, the backbone like
a
snapped bow. Beyond, the bear was dragging the carcase of a sheep from beneath the debris of a second hut A
little
further off four or five men, on the point of flight stood staring back over their shoulders.

Ta-Kominion leapt to the top of a p
ile of logs, shouting, ‘Shardik! Lord Shardik is come!
‘ Round him the tumult spread wider as the whole town woke to the alarm. It was clear that there were those who had been awaiting his return. Already men were gathering about him, some already armed, others, half-naked from their beds, clutching spits, axes, clubs, whatever had come first to hand.

Dragging the end of a burning roof-pole from the ruins behind him, Ta-Kominion brandished it above his head. The second hut had caught fire and smoke had begun to obscure the sunlight As the heat and noise increased Shardik, disturbed from the sheep’s carcase, became uneasy. At first he had glared about him, defying the strange surroundings as he satisfied his hunger, crouching in the posture of
a
cat to rip and chew the bloody flesh. As the dusky air began to waver and cinders blew out towards the river, he winced and snarled, cuffing at
a
spark that fell on his car. Then, as the

centre-post of the second hut fell its length with a crash like that of a felled tree, he turned, still clutching the haunch in his mouth, and made off towards the shore.

Ta-Kominion, surrounded now by a shouting crowd, pointed with his dagger and raised his voice above
the
din. ‘Now you have seen for yourselves
!
Lord Shardik has returned to his people! F
ollow me and fight for Shardik!
’

‘He is going!’ cried a voice.

‘Going? Of course he’s going!’ yelled Ta-Kominion. ‘Going where we shall follow him - to Beklal He knows Ortelga’s as
good as taken for him already!
He’s t
rying to tell you there’s no tim
e to be lost! Follow me!’

‘Shardik! Shardik!’ shouted the crowd. Ta-Kominion led them forward at a run towards the Sindrad. Kelderek heard the shouting grow to a roar. Fresh smoke rose, followed by
the
unmistakable sounds of fighting - orders,
the
clashing of weapons, curses and the cries of wounded men. Picking up a stout, woven hurdle leaning against the log pile, he began to fasten it on his left arm for a shield. It was awkward, contrary work and he knelt down to it, fumbling and forcing at the wicker plaiting.

Looking up, he suddenly found the Tuginda standing beside him. Her clothes were dry, but
the
black, powdery ash blowing in the air had streaked her face and arms and lay grimy on her hair. Although she was carrying a bow, ready strung, and a quiver of arrows, she seemed indifferent to the fighting, which was now filling the entire town
with
its uproar. She said nothing, but stood looking down at him.

‘I must go and join in the fight, saiyett, he said. ‘The young baron will think me a coward. He may be hard-pressed - I cannot tell.’

Still she said nothing and he paused, looking up at her and at the same time
trying
to thrust his left arm further through the rent which he had made in the hurdle.

‘Lord Shardik is leaving Ortelga,’ said the Tuginda at length.

‘Saiyett, the fighting-‘

‘His work here is done - whatever it may have been.’

‘You can hear that it is not! Do not delay me, saiyett, I beg you!’

‘That may be others’ work. It is not our work.’

He stared at her.

‘Why, what the
n is our work, if not to fight for Lord Shardik?’ ‘To follow the one whom God has sent.’

She turned and began to walk back towards the river. Still hesitating, he saw her stoop and pick something up from among the ashes of the burned hut. She stood a moment, w
eighing it in her hand, and
as she moved he saw
that
it was a wooden ladle. Then she was gone, through the smoke, down the sloping shore. Kelderek let fall his hurdle, thrust the knife into his belt and followed her.

On the bank, Rantzay and Sheldra were waiting beside a canoe drawn up on the pebbles. Staring out over the water, they paid him no attention. Following their gaze, he saw Shardik splashing towards the mainland, along the line of the broken causeway. Close by, shading her eyes against the glitter, the Tuginda was standing on a flat, squared block of stone in the shallows. He took her arm, and together they began to follow Shardik across the strait.

Book II

Gelt

17
The Road to Gelt

That evening the army of Ortelga, led by Ta-Kominion, began crossing the strait: a grimy, shouting horde a few thousand strong, some armed with spear, sword or bow, some carrying nothing but mattock
s or sharpened stakes: some-mostl
y servants, these-moving in bands under their masters for officers, others mere gangs of drinking-companions, or ruffians slouching with club and bottle for company: but all eager to march and ready to fight, all convinced that Bekla was destined to fall to the revealed power of God, by whose will they were to have full stomachs and never toil again. Some wore crude armour - scooped-out caps of fire-hardened wood, or rough-edged plates of iron fastened across their chests - and most had, scratched or painted somewhere about them, the rough likeness of a bear’s head.

At the dangerous points in the broken causeway Ta-Kominion had had ropes stretched between wedged stakes or anchored rafts and at these there was sousing and horseplay, until a man was swept downstream and drowned. As darkness came, those still gathering on the. island shore fell to drinking and singing as they waited for moon-rise; and Ta-Kominion’s henchmen made a last search through the town, rousing up any who remained in two minds or seemed inclined to feel that they might be leaving more than they could gain.

On the mainland shore other gr
oups were mustering from the outl
ying lands: a party of foresters and woodmen, armed with their axes, mauls a
nd crowbars; a baron named Ged-l
a-Dan, whose substance came from the coloured quartz - topaz and aquamarine - for which his men dived in rocky bays downstream; and a factor and his porters, just returned from their trading-post in Gelt with a load of iron ore, who were quick-witted enough to auction themselves as guides to the highest bidders among the leaders.

Women, too, made the crossing, laden with arms, clothes, arrows or bags of food got together at the last minute, beg, borrow or steal. Some of these, confused by the crowd, wandered here and there in the torch-lit twilight, calling the names of their men and dealing as best they could with importuners and thieves.

Ta-Kominion, having asked Fassel-Hasta to count the numbers and do his best to organize the force into companies, himself set off
to re
-cross the causeway, ignoring the surly nod and grunt with which the older baron left him. For some hours past he had been drenched through, first standing up to his waist in midstream to see the ropes fixed and then remaining at the gaps, less to encourage the rabble, most of whom were in high spirits,
than
to establish his authority and make sure that they knew him and would know him again. Already wearied by the work of the previous night and day, he was now intending a second night without sleep. He waded ashore on Ortelga, commandeered the nearest hut, bolted
the
food that was brought to him and then slept for two hours. When his servant, Numiss, woke him, the moon was well risen and the stragglers were being guided and coaxed across. He sat impati
ently
while Numiss changed the dirty cloth bound round the deep, jagged wound in his forearm; and then made his way upstream the length of the town, until he came to the shendron’s post under the zoan tree.

There was no shendron there now, not even a woman or an old man, for Ta-Kominion was not concerned to set guards round Ortelga. Waiting, however, under the tent of leaves he found, as he had expected, two of the Tuginda’s girls with a canoe. Numiss and another had been despatched that morning, as soon as the fight was over, to cross the strait, find the Tuginda and ask for guides to be sent to the zoan tree after moonrise.

As the canoe moved obliquely across the midstream current and on into the slack water under the further bank Ta-Kominion, sitting in the stern, could make out, away to his left, the dull glint of weapons held high out of the water, an occasional splash - the sound reaching him an instant after the quick glitter in the moon - and the onward creeping of
the
line of black shapes as the last of his followers made the crossing. Coming ashore he stumbled, struck his
arm against a tree and stood biti
ng his lip as the pain slowly subsided. All day he had made light of the wound but now, when one of the girls unfastened
the
leather strap of her quiver to make him a rough sling, he was ready enough to do as she bid, bending his head meekly to let her tie the knot behind his neck.