Shardik (99 page)

Suddenly he was aware - and felt pleased to have been the first to see them, for his eyes were not all they had been - of distant figures on the sand. He stopped and looked ahead more intently. The country, though still desert, was no longer flat. There were slopes and long, steep dunes, speckled with the shadows of the white stones lying on them, motionless and timeless in the sun as only desert hills can appear. At a point to the left was a cluster of huts - a kind of shanty town, raw and new in appearance; and it was here that
the
moving figures could be seen. Beyond, the ground fell away invisibly and there seemed to be a kind of reflected glitter in the air.

Through the still-more-distant horizon-haze - and he screwed up his eyes, but could see no better - there loomed a greenness which might be forest.

An hour later they halted on the left bank of
the
river and looked across to the town on the western side which Tan-Rion called Zeray. About them gathered a wonder-struck crowd of soldiers and Deelguy peasants, inhabitants of the shanty town and labour-force of the ferry on this bank. All evid
ently
realized that these strangers had in truth come from a distant, unknown country, brought back by Tan-Rion, whom they had seen set out three months before. The shrill jabbering grew, and the shoving, and the pointing, and the exclamations of astonishment as it was grasped that the long-nosed beasts wore man-made harness and were obedient to men, like oxen.

Siristrou, determined to show no nervousness in the close-pressing hubbub, not one word of which he could understand, stood sil
ently
beside hi
s horse’s head, ignoring everyth
ing until Tan-Rion, approaching, requested him to follow and began literally beating his way through
the
crowd with the flat of his scabbard. They scattered, laughing and gabbling, like children, in a fear that was half pretence and half real, and then fell in behind the newcomers, dancing and chanting as Tan-Rion led the way to a larger hut which did duty for the Deelguy officers’ quarters. He gave a single bang on the door and strode inside. Siristrou heard him shout a name and then, himself wishing to show detachment as the crowd once more closed round him, turned to gaze across the river at the town on the other side.

It lay beyond a strait of turbid, yellowish water about a quarter of a mile across and running, as
far as he could judge, too swiftl
y in the centre for any craft. He watched a great, leafy branch go rocking downstream almost as fast as though it were sailing through the air. He could not see the lower end of the strait, but upstream, on the opposite side, the river bent back into a bay where he thought he could make out what looked like a graveyard among trees at the mouth of a creek. The town itself lay nearer, dire
ctly
opposite him, filling a blunt promontory downstream of the bay. In all his life he had never seen a town with such an utterly God-forsaken appearance. It was clearly not large. There were several old houses, both of stone and of wood, but none of any size or of graceful or pleasing proportions. The newer houses, of which there seemed to be more than the old, both finished and half-finished, had a utilitarian, quickly-run-up look, and had certainly not been sited or designed in accordance with any plan. There was a number of trees, some thriving and some not, but clearly nothing like a public garden anywhere. Near the waterside, people - and even at this distance they looked oddly small people - were working on two nearly-completed, larger buildings, which looked like warehouses. In front of these stood a landing-stage and also, both in and beside the water, a complex of stout posts and ropes, the use of which he could not guess. The whole was framed in a grey sky and green, wild-looking country, dotted here a
nd there with patches of cultivati
on.

Siristrou groaned inwardly and his spirits fell still further. It was worse than he had expected. Tan-Rion had struck him as an intelligent and reasonably cultivated man, the product at least
of an ordered society with settl
ed values. The town he was now looking at resembled something a giant’s children might have thrown together with sticks and stones in play. Setting aside that it was a safe bet
that
no book or civilized musical instrument could be found from one end to the other, would he and his men be even safe in such a place? However, fear was unworthy of a metaphysician and High Councillor of Zakalon, and after all, his death would matter
little
- except, he thought bitterly, to his wife and children, the youngest a
little
girl of five whom he loved dearly. A big workman stepped forward and began to finger the cloth of his sleeve. He drew it away with a frown and the man laughed disconcertingly.

Tan-Rion reappeared at the door, followed by two men with heavy black moustaches and long hair, who were dressed and armed as though they were going to take part in a play as wandering bandits. Perhaps that was approximately right, thought Siristrou, except that this was no play. They stood looking him up and down, hands on hips. Then one spat on the ground. Siristrou returned their stare, considered smiling and offering his hand, decided against both and bowed coldly. At this, the one who had not spat also bowed, then laid an enormous, dirty hand on his shoulder and said, in what he recognized as excruciating Beklan,

‘Ho, yoss, yoss!
Nover mind! Nover mind!’ And then, with great emphasis, shaking a forefinger, ‘You - most - pay!’

Tan-Rion broke in, expostulating in an indignation too fast to be followed. ‘Envoys,’ Siristrou heard. ‘Trade mission - important foreigners - not to be insulted.’ And finally, more slowly and emphatically, so that he followed it fully, ‘Lord
Kelderek
will pay you, if you insist. You can cross with us and see him.’

At this the two bandits shrugged their shoulders and conferred. Then one nodded and pointed, remarking, ‘Furry roddy,’ and both began to lead the way upstream, the native crowd trailing behind as before.

They left
the
shanty town and found themselves once more walking
in the empty sand, but now along
the
waterline
beside the river. Siristrou noti
ced how unnaturally straight and regular this waterline was, and saw also that the edge of the shore had been levelled and paved almost like a road - in some places with stones and elsewhere
with
thick
, round, wooden billets, laid and trodden in side by side. There were numerous prints of ox-hooves. Pointing to these, he shook his head and smiled to Tan-Rion to convey his bewilderment, but the latter only nodded and smiled in reply.

They had not been going very long be
fore they reached their destinati
on. In slack water against the bank lay a flat raft of heavy logs topped with plank decking, some twelve or fourteen feet square and having a pointed bow or cut-water on the side facing out into the stream. There was no rail or parapet of any kind, but down
the
centre three thick, upright posts were fastened into the logs with wooden struts and crude iron brackets. Bolted to the top of each post was a hinged iron ring and through all three of
these
a stout rope ran the length of the raft. From the stern it continued to the shore, where it was secured to an iron bar driven into the ground. Before reaching
this
, however, it passed through a kind of pen or shuttering containing several free-ended stakes, round some of which it was hitched. A panel of this shuttering was open, and three men were straining as
they
twisted the stake inside to increase tension on the rope. Siristrou, watching as
the
dripping cable rose
little
by
little
out of the water beyond the raft and inched its way back through the rings, realized with something of a shock that it evid
ently
stretched across and downstream to Zeray
on the other side - not much less
than three-quarters of a mile, as near as he could estimate. It
was
on
this
cable
that
their
lives were abou
t to depend. The raft was goin
g to be warped across, with the forc
e of the current at a highly acut
e angle behind it.

Thyval plucked at his sleeve. ‘Excuse me, sir, do they reckon they’re going to take us over on that there thing?’

Siristrou looked him in the eye and nodded slowly and gloomily, two or three times.

‘Well,
the
horses won’t stand for it, sir, and anyway there ain’t the room for them.’

‘Not just one horse, do you think, Thyval? These people know nothing whatever of horses and I’d like to arrive with one, if we can.’

‘Well, sir, I’d chance it alone, but trouble is, if it’s rough - and I reckon it looks real nasty out there - we’re all crowded together and there’s no rail nor nothing -‘

‘Yes, yes, of course,’ said Siristrou hurriedly, finding the picture too much for his already wambling stomach. ‘The best thing will be if you come with me, Thyval, and Baraglat here - you’re not afraid, are you, Baraglat? - no, of course not, excellent fellow - and the rest will have to stay here with the horses
until
tomorrow. I’ll come back - heaven knows how, against that current, but I will -and see to everything. Now about the baggage - how can
we
best divide it? - and some of Tan-Rion’s men must be told to stay with ours - we can’t leave our people alone with those bandit fellows -and they’ll have to be given a hut for stabling -
we
won’t stand for any nonsense - Tan-Rion, one moment, please -‘

Metaphysician or no metaphysician, Siristrou was not lacking in decision and practical ability, and his men trusted him. There is much difference between being incapable of doing something and merely disliking having to do it, and King Luin had always been a good, though somewhat unorthodox, picker. In half an hour the baggage had been divided, Tan-Rion had acceded to demand and detailed three reliable
Yeldashay
, one of whom spoke Declguy, to remain with Siristrou’s men and the horses; the Deelguy officers had been told what they were to provide in the way of quarters, and those who were to cross had embarked.

In addition to the travellers there was a crew of six Deelguy labourers, whose task was to stand shoulder to shoulder and haul on the rope. This they set about, chanting rhythmically behind their shanty leader, and t
he raft, sidling out almost dire
ctly
downstream, came
little
by
little
into the central race.

For Siristrou the crossing was a most nerve-racking experience. Apart from the rope and its ring-crowned stanchions, beside which there was room for only the crew to stand, there was
nothing
whatever to hold on to as the heavy raft, with the current almost full astern, danced like the lid of a boiling pot. He crouched on the baggage, holding his knees and trying to set a reassuring example to his men, who were plainly terrified. Tan-Rion stood beside him, legs astride, balancing himself as the deck tilted and swung. The water poured across
the
planking as though from overturned buckets. What with
the
chanting, which was maintained steadily, and the ceaseless knocking and blitter-blatter of the river under the timbers, talk was possible only intermitt
ently
and by shouting. As they got well out, a cold wind began to throw up spray. Siristrou, soaked, slapped himself with his arms to keep from shivering, in case anyone should think he was afraid — which he was. Even after it had become plain that they were going to complete
the
crossing safely and suffer nothing worse
than
discomfort, he could not keep himself from biting his lip and tensing at every lurch as he watched the shores moving up and down on cither side, so horribly far away. One of the
Zakalon party, a lad of sixteen, was sick but, with
a
boy’s ashamed indignation, threw off Siristrou’s comforting arm, muttering, ‘I’m all right, sir,’ between his chattering teeth.

‘What is it they’re singing?’ Siristrou shouted to Tan-Rion.

‘Oh, the shanty-man just makes it up - anything that keeps them going. Actually I
have
heard this one before, I believe.’

‘Shardik a moldra konvay
gow!

chanted the leader, as his crew bent forward and took a fresh grip.

‘Sh
ar-dik!
Shar-dikl
‘ responded the crew, giving two heaves.

‘Sh
ardik a lomda, Shardik a pronto!
’

‘Shar-dik! Shar-dik!
’

‘What docs it mean?’ asked Siristrou, listening carefully to the reiterated syllables.

‘Well, let’s see
; it means “Shardik gave his life for the children, Shardik found them, Shardik saved
them
” - you know, anyth
ing that suits
their
rhythm.’