Shardik (29 page)

About a th
ousand feet above the plain the road reached a level, green spot where the ghost of a waterfall trickled down into a rock-pool; and here, as they came up, the successive companies fell out, drank and lay down in the grass. Looking back, they could see the dust-storm on the plain below and their spirits rose to think that at least one misery was left behind. Gel-Ethlin, grudging the delay, urged his officers to get them on their feet again. The afternoon had set in dark and the wind over the plain was dropping. They stumbled on wearily, their footsteps, the clink of their arms and the occasional shouts of orders echoing from the crags about them.

It was not long before they came to a narrow gorge, where two officers of the advance party were awaiting
them
. Balaklesh,
the
officers reported, had found an excellent defensive position about a mile
further
up the road, beyond the mouth of
the
gorge, and his scouts had been out ahead of it for more than an hour. Gel-Ethlin went forward to meet him and see the position for himself. It was very much the sort of thing he had had in mind, an upland plateau about half a mile wide, with certain features favourable to disciplined troops able to keep ranks and stand their ground. Ahead, to the north, the road came curving steeply downhill round a wooded shoulder. On the right flank was thick forest and on
the
left a ravine. Through this bottleneck the advancing enemy must needs come. At the foot of the shoulder the ground became open and rose g
ently
, among scattered crags and bushes, to a crest over which the road passed before entering the gorge. Balaklesh had chosen well. With the crags as natural defensive points and
the
slope in their favour, troops in position would take a great deal of dislodging and it would be extremely difficult for the enemy to fight their way as far as the crest. Yet unless they did so they could not hope to pursue their march down to the plain.

Gel-Ethlin drew up his line on the open slope, with the road running at right-angles through his centre. There would be no need for his weary men to break ranks or advance until the enemy had shattered themselves against his front.

Under the still thickening clouds, the lowest vapours of which were swirling close above
them
, they waited on
through
the
clammy, twilit afternoon. From ti
me to time there were rolls of thunder and once lightning struck in the ravine half a mile away, leaving a long, red streak like a weal down the grey rock. Somehow
the
men had got wind of the magic bear. The Yeldashay spearmen had already produced a doggerel ballad about its hyperbolical (and increasingly ribald) exploits; while at the
other
end of the line some regimental buffoon seized his chance, capering and growling in an old ox-hide, with arrow-heads for claws on his fingers’ ends.

At last
Gel-Ethlin
, from his command post on the road half-way down the slope, caught sight of the scouts returning down
the
hill among the trees. Balaklesh, running, reached him quickly. They had, he reported,
come very suddenly upon the Orte
lgans, who were advancing so fast
that
they themselves, already ti
red, had barely been able to get back ahead of
them
. As he spoke,
Gel-Ethlin
and those about him could hear, from the woods above, the growing hubbub and clatter of
the
approaching rabble. With a last word about the supreme importance of not breaking ranks
until
ordered, he dismissed his officers to their posts.

Waiting, he heard drops of rain beating on hi
s helmet but at first could feel
none on his outstretched hand. Then, filling all the distance, an undulating gauze of rain came billowing over the edge of the ravine from the left. A moment later the view below became blurred and a kind of growling sigh rose fro
m the lines of soldiers on eithe
r side.
Gel-Ethlin
took half-a-dozen
steps forward, as though to see
better through the moving mist of rain. As he did so a band of shaggy-haired men, half-savage in appearance and carrying various weapons, came tramping together round the curve of the road below and stopped dead at the sight of the Beklan army confronting them.

21
The Passes of Gelt

To burn Gelt had been no part of Ta-Kominion’s intention. Nor could he find out who had done it, each of
the
barons denying all knowledge of how or where the fire had begun. Ta-Kominion, with his personal followers, had readied
the
wretched
little
square in the centre of the town to find two sides already ablaze, the body of the chief lying with a spear in the back and a crowd of Ortelgans looting and drinking. He and Zelda, with a handful of the steadier men, beat some sort of order into them and - there being no water in the place except what could be scooped from two wells and one shrunken mountain-brook - checked the fire by breaking up the huts down-wind and dragging away the posts and straw. It was
Zelda
who pointed out that at all costs they must prevent any of the townspeople from carrying
the
news down to the plain. Guards were set on all roads and paths leading out of the town, while a young man named Jurit, to whom Ta-Komin
ion had that morning given Fasse
l-Hasta’s command, led a reconnoitring force down the steep southward road to find out what lay before them.

Ta-Kominion sat on a bench in one of the dim, fly-buzzing huts, trying to convince four or five frightened, speechless town elders that he meant them no harm. From time to time he broke off, frowning and groping for words as
the
walls swam before his eyes and the sounds from outside rose and fell in his cars like talk from beyond a door continually opening and closing. He moved restlessly, feeling as though his body were wrapped in stiff ox-hides. His wounded forearm throbbed and there was a tender swelling in his armpit. Opening his eyes, he saw the faces of the old men staring at him, full of wary curiosity.

He spoke of Lord Shardik, of the revealed destiny of Ortelga and the sure defeat of Bekla, and saw the dull disbelief and fear of reprisal and
death
which they could not keep from
their
eyes. At last one of them, shrewder perhaps than the rest, who must have been calculating the probable effect of what it had occurred to him to say, replied by telling him of the northern army o
f patrol under General Santil-ke
-
Erketlis
which, if he were not mistaken — as well he might be, he added hastily, his cunning peasant’s face assuming an expression of humility and deference - was due at this time to cross the plain below on its circuit to Kabin and beyond. Did the young lord mean to fight that army or would he seek to avoid it? Either way, it seemed best not to remain in Gelt, for the rains were due, were
they
not, and - he broke off, acting the part of one who knew his place and would not presume to advise
the
commander of so fine an army.

Ta-Kominion thanked him gravely, affecting not to be aware
that
it mattered
little
to
those
standing before him whether he went forward or back, so long as he left Gelt If the old man had meant to frighten him, he had reckoned without the blazing faith in Shardik that filled every heart in the Ortelgan army. Probably the
elders supposed that he intended only to raid one or two villages in the plain and then escape back over the hills with his booty -weapons, cattle and women - covered from pursuit by the onset of the rains.

Ta-Kominion, however, had never from the outset intended other than to seek out and destroy all enemy forces, whatever their strength, that might lie between himself and Bekla. His followers, he knew, would be content with nothing less. They meant to fight as soon as possible, since they knew that they could not be defeated. Shardik himself had already shown them what became of his enemies, and to Shardik i
t would make no difference wheth
er his enemies were treacherous
Ortelga
n barons or patrolling Beklan soldiers.

The thought of the Beklan army, with which the crafty elder of Gelt had
thought
to dismay him, filled Ta-Kominion only with a fierce and eager joy, restoring to him the will-power to drive on his sick body and feverish mind.

Bowing to the old men, he left the hut and paced slowly up and
down outside, heedless of the sti
nking refuse and the scab-mouthed, mucous-eyed children begging among his soldiers. Not for one moment did it occur to him to deliberate whether or not he should fight. Lord Shardik and he himself had already decided upon that. But on him, as Shardik’s general, fell the task of deciding when and where. Even this did not occupy him long, for all his thoughts led to one and the same conclusion - that they should march straight on towards Bekla and fight the enemy wherever they might meet him on the open plain. There was scarcely any food to be commandeered in Gelt and the events of the afternoon had shown him how
little
real control he had over his men. The rains might come at any hour and despite Zelda’s cordon the news could not long remain secret that Gelt had fallen to the Ortelgans. More immediate than all these, because he felt it within his own body, was the knowledge that soon he might become incapable of leading the army. Once the
battle
was won his illness would matter
little
, but his collapse before they fought would bring to his men misgiving and superstitious dread. Besides, he alone must command the
battle
. How else to become lord of Bekla ?

Where was the Beklan army and how soon could they hope to meet it? The elders had said that the distance to the plain was about a day’s march, and he could expect the enemy to seek him out as soon as they had news of him. They would be as eager for
battle
as himself. In all probability, therefore, he could expect to fight on the plain not later than the day after tomorrow. This must be his
plan. He could make no better, could only offer to Lord Shardik his courage and zeal to use as he would. And to Shardik it must remain to delay the rains and bring the
Bekla
ns in their path.

Where was Shardik and what, if anything, had Kelderek achieved since he left him? No two ways about it, the fellow was a coward: yet it mattered
little
, if only he could somehow or other contrive to bring the bear to the army before they fought. If they won - as win
they
would - if indeed they came at last to take Bekla itself - what would Kelderek’s place be then? And the Tuginda -that futile yet disturbing woman, whom he had sent back to Quiso under guard - what was to be done
with
her? There could be no authority
that
did not acknowled
ge his own. Get rid of them both
, perhaps, and in some way alter
the
cult of Shardik acc
ordingly? Later there would be time to decide such th
ings. All that mattered now was the approaching
battle
.

Feeling suddenly faint, he sat down upon the rubble of a burned hut to recover himself. If, he thought, this sickness had not left him by the
time
the
battle
was over, he would send for the Tuginda and offer to reinstate her on condition that she cured him. Meanwhile, he could only rely on Kelderek to exercise authority in her name. But it was important
that
the
fellow should be urged on to complete his task.

He stood up, steadied himself against the still-standing door-post until the surge of giddiness had passed off, and then made his way back to the hut. The elders had left and, calling his servant Numiss, he gave him a brief message to carry to
Kelderek
, stressing that he expected to fight
within
two days. As soon as he had made sure that
the
man had his words by heart, he asked Zelda to see to his safe conduct through
the
pickets and himself lay down to sleep, giving orders that all was to be ready for
the
march to continue at dawn next day.

He slept heavily, undistu
rbed by the looting, raping and drunkenness that broke out again at nightfall and continued unchecked, none of the barons caring to run the risk of trying to stop it. When at last he woke, he knew at once that he was not merely ill, but worse than he had been in his life before. His arm was so swollen that the bandage was pressing into the flesh, yet he felt that he could not bear to cut it. His teeth chattered, his throat was so sore that he could scarcely swallow and as he sat up pain throbbed behind his eyes. He got up and staggered to the door. Gusts of warm wind were blowing from the west and the sky was thick
with
low cloud. The sun was not to be seen, but nevertheless he knew that it must be well after dawn. He leant agains
t the wall, trying to summon
the strength to go and rouse the men who should have been obeying his orders.