Shardik (30 page)

It was not
until
an hour before noon that the army at last set out Their pace was slow, several of the soldiers having burdened
them
selves with such loot as they had been able to come by - cooking-pots, mattocks, stools, the sorry and valueless possessions of men poorer than themselves. Many marched with aching heads and curdled stomachs. Ta-Kominion, no longer able to conceal his illness, walked in a confused and troubled dream. He scarcely remembered what had happened that morning, or what he had done to get
the
men on their feet He could recall the return of Numiss, with his report
that
Shardik had been drugged at the cost of a priestess’s life.
Kelderek
, so the message ran, hoped to overtake them by nightfall. The last nightfall, thought Ta-Kominion, before the destruction of
the
Bekla
n army. When that was done, he would rest

The narrow road wound along the sides of steep, wooded ravines sheltered from the wind, against rock-faces where the brown ferns drooped for rain. For a long time the sound of an invisible torrent rose up from below,
through
mists
that
swirled hither and back, but dispersed no more
than
did
the
cloud above. All was solitude and echo, and soon the men ceased to sing, to jest or even to talk beyond a few words in low voices. One tattered fellow, loosing an arrow, hit a buzzard as it swooped above them and, proud of his marksmanship, slung
the
carcase round his neck until, as the parasites began to creep from the cooling body, he slung it over a precipice with a curse. Once or twice, looking out across
the
tops of trees, they caught glimpses of the plain
below, and of tiny herds of cattl
e galloping among the windy dust-clouds. In superstitious dread of these wild hills they pressed on, many glancing uneasily about them and carrying their weapons drawn in their hands.

The straggling horde covered more than two miles of the track and there were no means of passing orders save by word of mouth. Between two and
three
hours after noon, however, when
they
had descended below the mists and the higher hills, a halt took place without any order being given, the several companies and bands coming up to find the vanguard fallen out and resting in an open wood. Ta-Kominion limped among the men, talking and joking with them as
though
in a trance, less to encourage than to let them see him and tr
y to learn for himself what fettl
e they were in. Now that they had left the sheer solitudes which had disquieted and subdued
them
, tiieir ardour was returning and they seemed as eager as ever to join battle. Yet Ta-Kominion - who as a lad of seventeen had fought beside Bel-ka-Trazet at Clenderzard and three
years later commanded the household company which his father had sent to Yelda to fight in the slave wars - could sense how green and unseasoned was their fervour. In one way, he knew, this might be counted to the good, for in their first battle men spend what they can never recover to spend again,
so that that battle - even for those
for whom it is not the last - may well be their best But the toll taken of such inexperienced fervour was likely to be high. From such troops
little
could be expected in the way of disciplined manoeuvre or steadiness under attack. The best way to use
their
rough, untrained quality would be simply to bring them quickly to the plain and let them assault the enemy in full strength and on open ground.

A spasm seized him and the trees before his eyes dissolved into circling shapes of yellow, green and brown. Somewhere far off, it seemed, rain was beating on the leaves. He listened, but then realized
that
the sound lay within his own ear, as full of pain as an egg is full of yolk. He had a fancy to break it open and watch the thick, fluid pain spill over the ground at his feet.

Someone was speaking to him. He opened his eyes yet once more and raised his head. It was Kavass, his father’s fletcher, a decent, simple-minded man, who had taught him his archery as a boy. With him were four or five comrades who - or so it seemed to Ta-Kominion - had prevailed upon Kavass to come and ask the commander to settle some difference between them. The fletcher, who was tall, as tall as himself, was looking at him with respectful sympathy and pity. In reply he grimaced and then managed to force a wry smile.

‘Touch of the fever, sir, eh?’ said Kavass deferentially. Everything about him - his stance, his look and the sound of his voice -tended to confirm Ta-Kominion in his leadership and at the same time to emphasize their common humanity.

‘Seems like it, Kavass,’ he answered. His words boomed in his own head, but he could not tell whether in fact he was speaking loud or low. ‘It’ll
pass off.’ Clenching his teeth
to stop them chattering, he missed what Kavass said next, and was about to turn away when he realized that they were all waiting for him to reply. He remained silent, but looked steadily at Kavass as though expecting him to say something more. Kavass seemed confused.

‘Well, I only meant, sir - and no disrespect, I’m sure - when he came ashore that morning, when you was with him, whether he told you he’d appear again, like - that he’d be there to make sure we won the battle,’ said Kavass.

Ta-Kominion continued to stare at him, guessing at his meaning. The men became uneasy.

‘Nothing to do with us,’ muttered one. ‘I said as ‘twas nothing to do with us.’

‘Well, only it’s like this, sir,’ pursued Kavass. ‘I was one of the first beside you that morning, and when Lord Shardik went over the water, you told us he knew Ortelga was as good as taken and he was off to Bekla - to show us the way, like. And what the lads was wondering, sir, was whether he’s going to be there to win for us when we come to fight?’

‘We’re
bound
to win, aren’t we, sir?’ said another of the men. ‘It’s
the
will of Shardik - the will of God.’

‘How do you know?
‘ said a fourth
, a surly, sceptical-looking fellow
with
blackened teeth. He spat on the ground. ‘D’you think a bear talks, eh ? ‘Think a bear talks?’

‘Not to you,’ replied Kavass contemptuously. ‘Of course he don’t talk to the likes of you - or me either, for the matter of
that
. What I told you was that Lord Shardik had said we was to march on Bekla and that he was going there himself. So it stands to reason he’s going to appear when we fight the battle. If you don’t place no reliance on Lord Shardik, why are you here?’

‘Well, it’s all according, ain’t it?’ said the man with the blackened teeth. ‘He might be
there
and then again he might not. All I said was, Bekla’s a strong place. There’s soldiers -‘

‘Be quiet!’ cried Ta-Kominion. He walked across to the man as
steadily as he was able, took h
is chin in his hand and lifted his head as he tried to focus his eyes on
his face. ‘You blasphemous fool!
Lord Shardik can hear you now - and see you as well! But
you
will not see
him
until the appointed time, for he means to test your faith.’

The man, twenty years older than Ta-Kominion at least, stared back at him sullenly without a word.

‘You can be sure of this,’ said Ta-Kominion, in a voice that could be heard by everyone near by. ‘Lord Shardik intends to fight for those that trust him. And he
will
appear when they fight - he will appear to those that deserve it! But not to
those
who deserve a wood-louse for a God.’

As he stumbled away he wondered yet again how long
Kelderek
would need to overtake them. If all went well it might be possible, while
the
army encamped that night, to discuss with Kelderek how best they could make use of Shardik. Whatever might be disclosed afterwards by Baltis and the other men who were now with
Kelderek
, Shardik must appear to the enemy in awe-inspiring power - he must not be displayed insensible and drugged. Also, it would be better to keep him away from the men altogether until he
was revealed at the proper time, which would presumably be immediately before
the
battle. Yet Ta-Kominion knew that he himself would not be able to retrace even a mile of
the
road tonight. If
Kelderek
did not reach the army he would have to send Zelda back to find him and speak with him. As for himself, he could not go on much longer without a rest. He must lie down and sleep. But if he did so, would he be able to get up again?

The march was resumed,
the
army following the road through the wood and down
the
hillside beyond. Ta-Kominion took up a place in the middle of
the
column, knowing that if he remained in the rear he would not be able to keep up. For a time he leaned on Numiss’s arm until, perceiving
that
the
wretched man was exhausted, he sent for Kavass to take his place.

They went on through the darkening, sultry afternoon. Ta-Kominion tried to estimate how far ahead the vanguard might be. The distance down to
the
plain could not now be more than a few miles. He had better send a runner to tell them to halt when they reached it. Just as he was about to call the nearest man he slipped, jolted his arm and almost fell down with
the
pain. Kavass helped him to the side of the track.

‘I’l
l never get
there
, Kavass;’ he whispered.

‘Don’t worry, sir,’ replied Kavass. ‘After what you told the lads, they’d fight just as well, even if you did have to sit it out, like. That’s got round, you know, sir, what you said back
there
. Most of
them
never actually saw Lord Shardik when he came ashore on
Ortelga
, you see
, and they’re keen to fight just to be
there
when he shows up again. They know he’s coming. So even if you
was
to have to lay down for a bit-‘

Suddenly there reached Ta-Kominion’s cars a confused, distant clamour, echoing up from the steep
woods below; the familiar, gut
teral cries of
the
Ortelgans and, clearly distinguishable at rhythmic intervals, a higher, lighter sound of other voices, shouting together. Underneath all was
the
thudding, trampling noise of a tumultuous crowd.

Ta-Kominion knew now
that
he must be delirious, for evid
ently
he could-no longer tell reality from hallucination. Yet Kavass seemed to be listening too.

‘Can you hear it, Kavass?’ he asked.

‘Yes, sir. Sounds like trouble. Part of that noise isn’t our lads, sir.’

Commotion was working back along the column like flood water flowing up a creek from the main river. Men were running past them down the hill, looking back to poin
t and shout to those behind.

Ta-Kominion tried to call out to them but none regarded him. Kavass flung himself at a running man, stopped him by main force, held him as he gabbled and pointed, flung him aside and returned to Ta-Kominion.

‘ ‘Can’t make it out altogether, sir, but
there
‘s some sort of fighting down
there
, or at least that’s what he said.’

‘Fighting?’ repeated Ta-Kominion. For a few moments he could not
remember what the word meant. H
is vision had blurred and
with
this came the curious sensation that his eyes had melted and were running down his face, while still retaining, though in a splintered manner, the power of sight. He raised his hand to wipe away the streaming liquid. Sure enough, he could no longer see. Kavass was shouting beside him.

‘The rain, sir, the rain!’

It was indeed rain
that
was covering liis hands, blurring his eyes and filling
the
woods with a leafy sibilance that he had supposed to be coming from inside his own head. He stepped into the middle of the track and tried to make out for himself what was going on at the foot of the hill.

‘Help me to get down there, Kavass!’ he cried.

‘Steady, sir, steady,’ replied the fletcher, taking his arm once more.

‘Steady be damned!’ shouted Ta-Kominion. ‘Those are Beklans down there - Beklans - and our fools are fighting them piecemeal, before they’ve even deployed! Where’s
Kelderek
? The rains - it’s that bitch of a priestess - she’s cursed us, damn her! - help me down there!’