Shardik (8 page)

Struck with amazement,
Kelderek
realized that this vast place was an artifact. He stood trembling - with awe indeed, but not with fear. Rather, he was filled with a kind of wild and expansive joy, like that of dance or festival, seeming to himself to be floating above his own exhaustion and the pain in his shoulder.

‘You have never seen
the
Ledges?’ said the priestess at his elbow. ‘We have to descend
them
- are you able?’

At once, as though she had commanded him, he set off down the wet slabs as confid
ently
as though upon level ground. The Baron called to him sharply and he stayed himself against the solitary island of a bank of ivy, smiling back at the two still above him for all the world as though they were comrades in some children’s game. As the priestess and the Baron approached carefully, picking their way down the wet stones, he heard the latter
say, ‘He is light-headed, saiye
tt - a simple, foolish fellow, as I am told. He may fall, or even fling himself down.’

‘No, the place means him no harm, Baron,’ she replied. ‘Since you brought him here, perhaps you can tell why.’

‘No,’ replied the Baron shortl
y.

‘Let him go,’ she said. ‘On the Ledges, they say, the heart is the foot’s best guide.’

At this,
Kelderek
turned once more and bounded away, splashing sure-footed down and down. The dangerous descent seemed a sport, exhilarating as diving into deep water. The pale shape of the inlet below
grew larger and now he could see
a fire twinkling beside it. He felt the steep hillside ever higher at his back. The curves of
the
ledges grew shorter, narrowing at last to
little
more
than
a broad path between
the
trees. He reached
the
very foot and stood looking round him in the enclosed gloom. It was indeed, he
thought
, like
the
bottom of a well — except that the air was warm and the stones now seemed dry underfoot. From above he could hear no sound of his companions and after a little began to make his way towards the glow of
the
fire and the lapping water beyond.

It was irregular, this shore among
the
trees, and paved with the same stone as the ledges above. As far as he could discern, it was laid out as a garden. Patches of ground between t
he paving had been planted with
bushes, fruit-trees and flowering plants. He came upon a clustering
tendriona,
trained on trellises to form an arbour, and could smell
the
ripe fruit among the leaves above him. Reaching up, he pulled one down, split the thin rind and ate as he wandered on.

Scrambling over a low wall, he found himself on the brink of a channel perhaps six or seven paces across. Water-lilies and arrowhead were blooming in
the
scarcely-moving water at his feet, but in 48 the middle there was a smooth flow and this, he guessed, must be the re-gathered stream from the ledges. He crossed a narrow foot-bridge and saw before him a circular space, paved in a symmetrical pattern of dark and light. In
the
centre stood a flat-topped stone, roughly ovoid and carved with a star-like symbol. Beyond, the fire was glowing red in an iron brazier.

His weariness and dread returned upon him. Unconsciously, he had thought of
the
waterside and the fire as
the
end of the night’s journey. What end he did not know; but where there was a fire, might one not have expected to find people - and rest? His impulse on the ledges had been both foolish and impertinent. The priestess had not told him to come here; her destination might be elsewhere. Now
there
were only the starlit solitude and
the
pain in his shoulder. He
thought
of returning, but could not face it. Perhaps, after all, they would come soon. Limping across to
the
stone, he sat down, elbow on knee, rested his head on his hand and closed his eyes.

He fell into an uneasy, slightly feverish doze, in which the happenings of the long day began to recur, dream-like and confused. He imagined himself to be crouching once more in
the
canoe, listening to
the
knock and slap of water in the dark. But it was on
the
shendron’s platform that he landed, and once again refused to tell what he had seen. The shendron grew angry and forced him to his knees, threatening him
with
his hot knife as the folds of his fur cloak rippled and became a huge, shaggy pelt, dark and undulant as a cypress tree.

‘By
the
Bear!’ hissed the Baron. ‘You will no longer choose!’

‘
I can speak only to the Tuginda!
‘ cried the hunter aloud.

He started to his feet, open-eyed. Before him, on the chequered pavement, was standing a woman of perhaps forty-five years of age. She had a strong, shrewd face and was dressed like a servant or a peasant’s wife. Her arms were bare to
the
elbow and in one hand she was carrying a wooden ladle. Looking at her in the starlight, he felt reassured by her homely, sensible appearance. At least there was evid
ently
cooking in
this
island of sorcery, and a straightforward, familiar sort of person to do it. Perhaps she might have some food to spare.

‘Crendro’
(I see you), said the woman, using
the colloquial greeting of Orte
lga.

‘Crendro,’ replied the hunter.

‘You have come down
the
Ledges?’ asked the woman.

‘Yes.’

‘
Alone?’

‘The priestess and the High Baron of O
rtelga are following - at least
so I hope.’ He raised one hand to his head. ‘Forgive me. I’m tired out and my shoulder’s painful.’

‘Sit down again.’ He did so.

‘
Why are you here - on Quiso?’

‘That I must not tell you. I have a message — a message for the Tuginda. I can tell it only to the Tuginda.’

‘Yourself? Is it not for your High Ba
ron, then, to tell the Tuginda?’

‘No. It is for myself to do so.’ T
o avoid saying more, he asked, ‘
What is this stone?’

‘It’s very old. It fell from the sky. Would you like some food? Perhaps I can make your shoulder more comfortable.’

‘It’s good of you. I’d like to eat, and to rest too. But the Tuginda -my message -‘

‘It will be all right Come this way, with, me.’

She took him by the hand and at the same moment he saw the priestess and
Bel
-ka-Trazet approaching over the bridge. At the sight of his companion the High Baron stopped, bent his head and raised his palm to his brow.

8
The Tuginda

In silence the hunter allowed himself to be led across the circle and past the iron brazier, in which the fire had sunk low. He wondered whether it too had been lit for a signal and had now served its turn, for there seemed to be none to keep it burning. Overtaking them, the baron spoke no word, but again raised his hand to his forehead. It shook sli
ghtly
and his breathing, though he controlled it, was short and unsteady. The hunter guessed that the descent of the steep, slippery ledges had taxed him more than he cared to show.

They left the fire, ascended a flight of steps and stopped before the door of a stone building, its handle a pendent iron ring made like two bears grappling each with the other.
Kelderek
had never before seen workmanship of this kind, and watched in wonder as the handle was turned and the weight of the door swung inward without sagging or scraping against the floor within.

Crossing the threshold, they were met by a girl dressed like those who had tended the cressets on the terrace. She was carrying three or four lighted lamps on a wooden tray which she offered to each of them in turn. He took a lamp, but still saw little of what was round him, being too fearful to pause or stare about. From somewhere not far away came a smell of cooking and he realized once again
that
he was hungry.

They entered a firelit, stone-floored room, furnished like a kitchen with benches and a long, rough table. The hearth, set in the wall, had a cowled chimney above and an ash-pit below, and h
ere a second girl was tending th
ree or four cooking-pots. The two exchanged a few words in low voices and began to busy themselves about the hearth and table, from time to time glancing sideways at the Baron with a kind of shrinking fascination.

Since
they
had left
the
paved circle the hunter had been overcome by
the
knowledge that he had committed sacrilege. Clearly, the stone on which he had sat was sacred. Had he not, indeed, been told
that
it had fallen from
the
sky? And the woman -
the
homely woman
with
the ladle - she could be only —

As she approached him in the firelight he turned, trembling, and fell upon his knees.

‘Saiyett -
I -I
was not to know -‘

‘Don’t be afraid,’ she said. ‘Lie down here, on the table: I want to look at your shoulder. Melathys, bring some warm water; and Baron, will you please hold one of the lamps close?’

As they obeyed her, the Tuginda unlaced the hunter’s jerkin and began to wash the clotted blood from the gash in his shoulder. She worked carefully and deliberately, cleaned the wound, dressed it with a stinging, bitter-scented ointment and finally bound his shoulder with a clean cloth. From behind the lamp the Baron’s disfigured face looked down at him with an expression which made him prefer to keep his eyes shut.

‘Now we will eat - and drink too,’ said
the
Tuginda at last, helping him to his feet, ‘and you girls may go. Yes, yes,’ she added impati
ently
, to one who was lifting the lid from the stew-pot and lingering by the fire, ‘I can ladle stew into bowls, believe it or not.’

The girls scurried out and the Tuginda, picking up her ladle, stirred
the
various pots and filled four bowls from them. Kelderek ate apart, standing up, and she did nothing to dissuade him, herself sitting on a bench by
the
hearth and eating slowly and
little
, as though to make sure
that
she would finish no sooner and no later than the rest. The bowls were woode
n, but the cups into which Melath
ys poured wine were of thin bronze, six-sided and flat-based, so that, unlike drinking-horns, they stood unsupported without spilling. The cold metal felt strange to the hunter’s lips.

W
hen the two men had finished, Melath
ys brought water for their hands, took away the bowls and. cups and made up the fire. The Baron, with his back against the table, sat facing the Tuginda, while the hunter remained standing in the shadows beyond.

‘I sent for you, Baron,’ began the Tuginda. ‘As you know, I asked you to come here tonight.’

‘You
have put me to indignity, saiye
tt,’ replied the Baron. ‘Why was the fear of Quiso unloosed upon us? Why must we have lain bemused in darkness upon
the
shore? Why -‘

‘Was there not a stranger with you?’ she answered, in a tone which checked him instan
tl
y,
though
his eyes remained fixed upon hers. ‘Why do you suppose you could not reach
the
landing-place? And were you not armed?’

‘I came in haste. The matter escaped me. But in any case, how could you have known
these things, saiye
tt?’

‘No matter how. Well,
the
indignity, as you call it, is ended now. We will not quarrel. The girls who carried my message to Ortelga - they have been looked after?’

‘It is hard to reach Ortelga against the current. They were tir
ed. I said they should remain there to sleep.’
She nodded.

‘My message, as I -suppose, was unexpected, and you have made me an unexpected reply, bringing me a wounded man whom I find sitting a
lone and exhausted on the Tereth
stone.’