Shardik (5 page)

His voice, too, was distorted; harsh and low, with an odd ring, like the sound of a stone bounding over a sheet of ice.

‘Kelderek, my lord.’

‘Why are you here?’

‘The shendron at
the
zoan sent me.’

‘That I know. Why did he send you?’

‘Because I did not think it right to tell him what befell me today.’

‘Why does your shendron waste my time?’ said Bel-ka-Trazet to Taphro. ‘Could he not make this man speak? Are you telling me he defied you both? ‘

‘He - the hunter - this man, my lord,’ stammered Taphro. ‘He told us - that is, he would not tell us. The shendron - he asked him about - about his injury. He replied that a leopard pursued him, but he would tell us no more. When we demanded to know, he said he could tell us nothing.’

There was a pause.

‘He refused us, my lord,’
persisted Taphro. ‘We said to him –‘

‘Be silent.’

Bel-ka-Trazet paused, frowning abstractedly and pressing two fingers against
the
ridge beneath his eye. At length he looked up.

‘You
are
a clumsy liar,
Kelderek
, it seems. Why trouble to speak of a leopard? Why not say you fell out of a tree?’

‘I told the truth, my lord. There was a leopard.’

‘And
this
injury,’ went on
Bel
-ka-Trazet, reaching out his hand to grasp
Kelderek
‘s left wrist, and g
ently
moving his arm in a way
that
suggested that he might pull it a good deal harder if he chose, ‘this trifling injury. You had it, perhaps, from someone who was disappointed
that
you had not brought him better news? Perhaps you told him, “The shendrons are alert, surprise would be difficult,” and he was displeased?’

‘No, my lord.’

‘
Well, we shall see. There was a leopard, then, and you fell. What happened then?’

Kelderek
said nothing.

‘Is this man a half-wit?’ asked Bel-ka-Trazet, turning to
Zelda
.

‘Why, my lord,’ replied Zelda, ‘I know little of him, but I believe he is known for something of a simple fellow. They laugh at him - he plays
with
the children -‘

‘He does what?’

‘He plays
with
chi
ldren, my lord, on the shore.’ ‘
What else?’

‘Otherwise he is solitary, as hunters often are. He lives alone and harms no one, as far as I know. His father had hunter’s rights to come and go and he has been allowed to inherit them. If you wish, we can send to find out more.’

‘Do so,’ said Bel-ka-
Trazet
: and then to Taphro, ‘You may go.’

Taphro snatched his palm to his forehead and was gone like a candle-flame in the wind. Zelda followed him with more dignity.

‘Now,
Kelderek
,’ said the twisted mouth, slowly, ‘you are an honest man, you say, and we are alone, so there is nothing to hinder you from telling your story.’

Sweat broke out on
Kelderek
‘s face. He tried to speak, but no words came.

‘Why did you tell the shendron a few words and then refuse to tell more?’ said the High Baron. ‘What foolishness was
that
? A rogue should know how to cover his tracks. If there was something you wished to conceal, why did you not invent some tale that would satisfy the shendron?’

‘Because — because the truth - ‘ The hunter hesitated. ‘Because I was afraid and I am still afraid.’ He stopped, but
then
burst out suddenly, ‘Who can lie to God? - ‘

Bel-ka-Trazet watched him as a lizard watches a fly.

‘ Zelda P he called suddenly. The baron returned.

‘Take this man out, put his arm in a sling and let him eat Bring him back in half an hour - and then, by this knife, Kelderek -‘ and he drove the point of his dagger into the golden snake painted on the lid of
the
chest beside him - ‘you shall tell me what you know.’

The unpredictable nature of dealings with Bel-ka-Trazet were the subject of many a tale. With Zelda’s hand under his shoulder,
Kelderek
stumbled out into the Sindrad and sat huddled on a bench while the boys brought him food and a leather sling.

When next he faced Bel-ka-Trazet night had fallen. The Sindrad outside was quiet, for all but two of the barons had gone to their own quarters. Zelda sat in the firelight, looki
ng over some arrows which the fle
tcher had brought Fassel-Hasta was hunched on another bench at the table, slowly writing, with an inked brush on bark, by the light of a smoky earthenware lamp. A lamp was burning also on the lid of Bel-ka-Trazet’s chest. In the shadows beyond, two fire-flies went winking about the room. A curtain of wooden beads had been let fall over the doorway and from time to time these clicked
quietly
in the night breeze.

The distortion of Bel-ka-Trazet’s face seemed like a trick of the lamplight, the features monstrous as a devil-mask in a play, the nose appearing to extend to the neck in a single, unbroken line, the shadows under the jaw p
ulsing slightl
y and rhythmically, like the throat of a toad. And indeed it was a play they were now to act^ thought Kelderek, for it accorded with nothing in life as he had known it A plain man, seeking only his living and neither wealth nor power, had been mysteriously singled out and made an instrument to cross the will of Bel-ka-Trazet

‘Well,
Kelderek
,’ said the High Baron, pronouncing his name with a slight emphasis that somehow conveyed contempt, ‘while you have been filling your belly, I have learned as much as there is to be known about a man like you - all, that is, but what you are going to tell me now,
Kelderek
Zenzuata. Do you know
they
call you that? *

‘Yes, my lord.’

‘Kelderek Play-with-the-Children. A solitary young man, with no taste for taverns, it seems, and an unnatural indifference towards girls: but known nevertheless for a skilful hunter, who often brings in game and rarities for the factors trading with Gelt and Bekla.’

‘If you have heard so much, my lord -‘

‘So that he is allowed to come and go alone, much as he pleases, with no questions asked. Sometimes he is gone for several days at a time, is he not?’

‘It is necessary, my lord, if the game -

‘Why do you play with the children? A young man unmarried - what sort of nonsense is that?’ Kelderek considered.

‘Children often need friends,’ he said. ‘Some of the children I play with
are
unhappy. Some have been left with no parents - their parents have deserted them -‘

He broke off in confusion, meeti
ng the gaze of Bel-ka-Trazet’s distorted eye over
the
ridge. After some minutes he muttered uncertainly, ‘The flames of God -‘

‘What? What did you say?’

‘The flames of God, my lord. Children - their eyes and ears
are
still open - they speak the truth -‘

‘And so shall you, Kelderek, before you are done. You’d be thought a simple fellow, then, soft in the head perhaps, a stranger to drink and wenches, playing with children and given to talk of God; for no one would suspect such a man, would he, of spying, of treachery, of carrying messages or treating with enemies on his lonely hunting expeditions -‘

‘My lord -‘

‘Until one day he returns injured and almost empty-handed from a place believed to be full of game, too much confused to have been able to invent a tale -‘

‘My lord!’ The hunter fell on his knees.

‘Did you displease the man, Kelderek, w
as that it? Some brigand from De
elguy, perhaps, or slimy slave-trader from Terekenalt out to make a
little
extra money by carrying messages during his dirty travels? Your information was displeasing, perhaps, or the pay was not enough?’

‘No, my lord, no!’

‘Stand up!’

The beads clicked in a gust that flattened the lamp-flame and made the shadows
dart on the wall like fish startl
ed in a deep pool. The High Baron was silent, collecting himself with the air of a man repulsed by an obstacle but still determined to overcome it by one means or another. When he spoke again it was in a quieter tone.

‘Well, so far as I am any judge,
Kelderek
, you may be an honest man, though you are a great fool
with
your talk of children and God. Could you not have asked for one single friend to come here, to testify to your honesty?’

‘My lord -‘

‘No, you could not, it seems, or else it never occurred to you. But let us assume that you are honest, and that something took place today which for some reason you have neither concealed nor revealed. If you had gone about with ginning to conceal it altogether, I suppose you would not have been compelled to come here — you would not be standing here now. No doubt, then, you know very well that it is something that is bound to come to light sooner or later, so
that
it would have been foolish for you to try to hide it.’

‘Yes, I am sure enough of that, my lord,’ replied
Kelderek
without hesitation.

Bel
-ka-Trazet drew his knife and, like a man idly passing the time while waiting for supper or a friend, began to heat
the
point in the lamp-flame.

‘My lord,’ said
Kelderek
suddenly, ‘if a man were to return from hunting and say to the shendron, or to his friends, “I have found a star, fallen from the sky to the earth,” who would believe him?’

Bel-ka-
Trazet
made no reply, but went on turning
the
point of the knife in the flame.

‘But if that man had indeed found a star, my lord, what then? What should he do and to whom should he bring it?’

‘You
question
me,
and in riddles,
Kelderek
, do you? I have no love for visionaries or their talk, so be careful.’

The High Baron clenched his fist but then, like a man determined to exercise patience, let it fall open and remained staring at
Kelderek
with a sceptical look.

‘Well?’ he said at length.

‘I fear you, my lord. I fear your power and your anger. But the star
that
I found - it is from God, and this, too, I fear. I fear it more. I know to whom it must be revealed -‘ his voice came in a strangled gasp - ‘I can reveal it - only to
the
Tuginda!
’

In an instant
Bel
-ka
-Trazet had seized him by the th
roat and forced him to the floor. The hunter’s head bent sharply backwards, away from the hot knife-point thrust close to his face.

‘I will do this -
1
can do only that! By the Bear, you will no longer choose what you w
ill do when your bow-eye is out!
You’ll end in Zeray, my child!’

Kelderek
‘s hands stretched upwards, clutching at the black cloak bending over him and pressing him backwards from knee to wounded shoulder. His eyes were closed against the heat of the knife and he seemed about to faint in the High Baron’s grasp. Yet when at length he spoke - Bel-ka-Trazet stooping close to catch the words - he whispered,

‘It can be only as God wills, my lord. The matter is great -greater, even, than your hot knife.’ The beads clas
hed in the doorway. Without relin
quishing his hold the Baron peered over his shoulder into the gloom beyond the lamp. Zelda’s voice said,

‘My lord, there are messengers from the Tuginda. She would speak with you urg
ently
, she says. She requests that you go to Quiso tonight.’

Bel-ka-Trazet drew in his breath with a hiss and stood straight, shaking off Kelderek, who fell his length and lay without moving. The knife slipped from the High Baron’s hand and stuck in the floor, transfixing a fragment of some greasy rubbish, which began to smoulder with an evil smell. He stooped quickly, recovered the knife and trod out the fragment. Then he said
quietly
,