Shardik

by Richard Adams

  "Were you happy?"

  "Oh, yes. To have a home and wise, good people to love you and look after you, after being part of the stock of a slave farm--you can't imagine what that meant. It's not incurable, you know--the harm done to an ill-treated child. Everyone was kind --I was spoiled. I got on well--I was clever, you see--and I grew up to believe that I was God's gift to Quiso. That was why, when the time came, I wasn't fit for any real self-sacrifice, as poor Rantzay was." She was silent for a little and then said, "But I've learned since then."

  "Are you sorry that you'll never go back to Quiso?"

  "Not now. I told you, it's been made plain to me--"

  He interrupted her. "Not too late?"

  "Oh, yes," she answered, "it's always too late." She got up and, passing close to him on her way to the Tuginda's room, bent down so that her lips just brushed his ear. "No, it's never too late." A few moments afterward she called to him to come and help the Tuginda to a seat by the fire, while she made the bed and swept the room.

  During the latter part of the afternoon the sun became cooler and the courtyard shady. They sat outside, near the fig tree by the wall, Melathys on a bench under the Tuginda's open window, Kelderek on the coping of the well. After a time, disturbed in memory by the low chuckling and whispering sounds deep in the shaft, he rose and began to gather up the clothes she had spread during the morning.

  "Some of these haven't dried, Melathys."

  She stretched lazily, arching her back and lifting her face to the sky.

  "They will."

  "Not by tonight."

  "M'mm. Fuss, fuss."

  "I'll spread them on the roof for you, if you like. It's still sunny there."

  "No way up."

  "In Bekla every house had steps up to the roof."

  "In Bekla town the pigs all fly, and the wine in the river goes gurgling by--"

  Looking up the fifteen or sixteen feet of the wall, he picked a way, scrambled up the rough stonework, got both hands on the parapet and pulled himself over. Inside there was a drop of about a foot to the flat, stone roof. He tried it cautiously, but it was solid enough and he stepped down. The stones were warm in the sun.

  "Throw the clothes up and I'll spread them."

  "It must be dirty."

  "A broom, then. Can you--"

  He broke off, looking toward the river.

  "What is it?" called Melathys, with a touch of anxiety.

  Kelderek did not answer and she asked again, more urgently.

  "Men on the opposite side of the river."

  "What?" She stared up at him incredulously. "That's a desert shore, no village for forty miles, or so I've always been told. I've never seen a man there since I've been here."

  "Well, you can now."

  "What are they doing?"

  "I can't make out. They look like soldiers. People this side seem just as much surprised as you."

  "Help me up, Kelderek."

  After a little difficulty she climbed high enough for him to grasp her wrists and pull her up. Stepping on the roof, she immediately knelt down behind the parapet and motioned him to copy her.

  "A month ago we might have stood openly on a roof in Zeray. I don't think I would now."

  Together they looked eastward. Along the Zeray waterfront the rabble of loiterers had gathered in groups, talking together and pointing across the river. On the far shore, about half a mile from where they were kneeling on the roof, a band of perhaps fifty men could be seen, intent on some business of their own among the rocks.

  "That man on the left--he's giving orders, do you see?"

  "But what is it they're carrying?"

  "Stakes. Look at that nearer one--it must be as long as the center-pole of an Ortelgan hut. I suppose they're going to build a hut--but whatever for?"

  "Heaven knows--but one thing's certain, it can't be anything to do with Zeray. No one's ever yet crossed that strait. The current's far too strong."

  "They're soldiers, aren't they?"

  "I think so--or else a hunting expedition."

  "In a desert? Look, they've started digging. And those are two great mauls they've got there. So when they've sunk those stakes deep enough to be able to get at the heads, they must be going to drive them in further."

  "For a hut?"

  "Well, let's wait and see. They'll probably--"

  He stopped as she laid a hand on his arm and drew him back from the parapet.

  "What is it?"

  She lowered her voice. "Possibly nothing. But there was a man watching us from below--one of your friends of last night, I dare say. It might be better to go down now, in case he has ideas of breaking in. Anyway, the less attention we attract the better, and out of sight out of mind's a good maxim in this place."

  After he had helped her down, he closed and secured the shutters of the few windows on the outer wall, brought Ankray's heavy spear into the courtyard and remained listening for some time. All was quiet, however, and at length he returned indoors. The Tuginda was awake and he sat down near the foot of the bed, content to listen while she and Melathys talked of old days on Quiso. Once the Tuginda spoke of Ged-la-Dan, but though Melathys evidently understood well enough the terms she used in describing his fruitless attempts to reach the island, Kelderek could make nothing of them.

  Nor, he thought, was there any reason why he should. Melathys had said that she would never return there and certainly he would not. Magic, mysticism, the fulfillment of prophecies and the search for meanings beyond those of hearth and home--it was little enough he had gained from them, unless indeed he could count his hard-won experience. But though he himself was disillusioned, it seemed from what she had said that Melathys was not. It was clear enough, too, that the Tuginda thought of her as healed or redeemed--if those terms had any meaning--in some sense that did not apply to himself. No doubt, he thought, this was because Melathys had begged her forgiveness. Why had he been unable to do so?

  Soon it would be dusk. Still deep in his thoughts, he left the women together and went out into the courtyard to wait for Ankray.

  He was leaning against the bolted gate, listening for any sound of approach and wondering whether he should climb once more to the roof when, looking up, he saw Melathys standing in the doorway. The flame-light of evening covered her from head to foot and showed the long fall of her hair as a smooth, glowing shadow, like the curved trough of a wave. As a man, having stopped to gaze at a rainbow, continues on his way but then, turning to look at it once more, is immediately enraptured yet again by its marvelous beauty, as though he had never seen it in his life before, so Kelderek was moved by the sight of Melathys. Arrested by his fixed look and catching, as it were, the echo of herself in his eyes, the girl stood still, smiling a little, as though to tell him that she was happy to oblige him until he should find himself able to release her from his gaze.

  "Don't move," he said, at once bidding and entreating, and she showed neither confusion nor embarrassment, but a dignity joyous, spontaneous and unassuming as a dancer's. Suddenly, with an illusion like that which, in the hall of the King's House at Bekla, while he stood awaiting the soldiers bringing Elleroth, had shown him Shardik as both bear and distant mountain summit, he saw her as the tall zoan tree on the shore of Ortelga--an enclosing arbor of ferny boughs by the waterside. Without taking his eyes from hers, he crossed the courtyard.

  "What do you see?" asked Melathys, looking up at him with a little spurt of laughter; and Kelderek, recalling the power of the priestesses of Quiso, wondered whether she herself had called the image of the zoan into his mind.

  "A tall tree by the river," he answered. "A landmark for a homecoming."

  Taking her hands in his own, he raised them to his lips. As he did so, there fell upon the courtyard door a rapid, urgent knocking. This was followed immediately by an ugly sound of jeering and Ankray's voice calling, "Now then, be off with you, and look sharp about it!"

  47 Ankray's News

  KELDEREK, SNATCHING UP
THE SPEAR, ran and drew the bolts and Ankray, his sword drawn in his hand, ducked his head and stepped backward into the courtyard, slipping his sack from his shoulder as Kelderek shut the gate.

  "I hope all's well, sir, with you and the priestesses," he said, drawing the javelin from his belt and sitting down on the coping of the well to pull off his muddy leggings. "I did my best to get back as quick as I could, but it's a fair step over that rough country."

  Kelderek, unable at once to find words, merely nodded but then, unwilling to seem churlish to this good fellow who had risked his life for their sakes, laid a hand on his shoulder and smiled.

  "No, no trouble here," he said. "You'd better come in and have a wash and a drink. Let me take your sack--that's it. By God, it's heavy! You haven't been too unlucky, then?"

  "Well, yes and no, sir," replied Ankray, stooping to enter the doorway. "I was able to pick up a few things, true enough. I've got some fresh meat, if the priestess could fancy a bit of it this evening."

  "I'll cook it," said Melathys, bringing a bowl of hot water and crushing herbs into it as she put it down on the floor. "You've done enough for one day. No, don't be stupid, Ankray: of course I'm going to wash your feet. I want to have a look at them. There's a cut, for a start. Keep still."

  "There are three full wineskins in this sack," said Kelderek, looking into it, "as well as the meat and these two cheeses and some loaves. Here's some oil, and what's this--lard? And some leather. You must be as strong as five oxen to have carried this lot nine miles."

  "Mind the fishhooks and the knifeblades, sir," said Ankray. "They're loose, but then I know where I put them, you see."

  "Well, whatever your news is, let's eat first," said Kelderek. "If this is the Yes, we may as well make the most of it before you start on the No. Come on, drink some of this wine you've brought, and here's your good health."

  It was well over an hour before the meal had been cooked and eaten. Ankray and Kelderek, after going out of the gate to look round the house, test the barred shutters from outside and make sure all was quiet, returned to find that Melathys had taken two lamps from the kitchen to add to that already in the Tuginda's room. The Tuginda welcomed Ankray and thanked him, praising his strength and courage and questioning him so warmly and sincerely that he soon found himself giving her an account of the day's adventures with as little constraint as he might have related it to the Baron. She told him to fetch a stool and sit down, and he did so without embarrassment.

  "Do they still remember the Baron kindly in Lak?" asked Melathys.

  "Oh yes, saiyett," answered the man. "There was two or three of them asked me whether I thought it would be safe if they was to come here, to pay their respects, like, at the grave. I said I'd fix a day to meet them, to make sure of them finding the right spot. They've got a great opinion of the Baron, have the folk in Lak."

  "Did you get any chance to tell them about what's happened, or to find out whether we may be able to go there?"

  "Well, that's just it, saiyett: I can't say as I was able to get far there. You see, I couldn't talk to the chief or any of the elders. It seems they're all greatly taken up with this business of the bear. They were holding some sort of meeting about it, and 'twas still going on when I had to start back."

  "The bear?" asked Kelderek sharply. "What bear? What do you mean?"

  "There's no one knows what to make of it, sir," replied Ankray. "They say it's witchcraft. There's not a man of them but he's frightened, for never a bear's been known before in those parts and by all I can make out this one's no natural creature."

  "What did they tell you?" asked Melathys, white to the lips.

  "Well, saiyett, seems 'twas about ten days ago now that the cattle began to be attacked in the night--pens broken and beasts killed. A man was found one morning with his head beaten in and another time a tree trunk that three men couldn't have moved had been lifted out of a gap it had been set to block. They found tracks of some big animal, but no one knew what they were and everyone was afraid to search. Then about three days ago some of the men were out fishing, upstream and just a little way off shore, when the bear came down to drink. 'Seems it was that big they couldn't believe their eyes. Thin and sick it looked, they said, but very savage and dangerous. It stared at them from the bank and they went off quick. The men I talked to were all sure it's a devil, but myself, I wouldn't fear it, because I reckon it stands to reason who it is."

  Ankray paused. None of his listeners spoke and he went on,

  "It was a bear hurt the Baron when he was a young fellow; and when we left Ortelga after the fighting--that was all to do with sorcery and a bear, or so I've always understood. The Baron's often said to me, 'Ankray,' he'd say, 'I'd have done better if I'd a been a bear, that I would. That's the way to make a kingdom out of nothing, believe me.' Of course, I reckoned he was joking, but now--well, saiyett, if any man was to come back as a bear, that man would be the Baron, don't you reckon? Them that saw it said 'twas terrible scarred and wounded, disfigured-like, round the neck and shoulders, and I reckon that proves it. There's no one in Lak ventures far now and all the cattle are penned together and fires kept burning at night. There's none of them dares go out and hunt the bear. There's even some kind of strange rumor that it's come alive out of hell."

  The Tuginda spoke. "Thank you, Ankray. You did very well and we quite understand why you couldn't talk to the chief. You've earned a good night's sleep. Don't do any more work tonight, will you?"

  "Very good, saiyett. No trouble, I'm sure. Good night, saiyett. Good night, sir."

  He went out, taking the lamp which Melathys silently handed to him. As his footsteps receded Kelderek sat motionless, staring down at the floor like a man who, in an inn or shop, hopes by averting his face to avoid recognition by some creditor or enemy who has unexpectedly entered. In the room beyond, a log fell in the fire and faintly through the shutters came the distant, rattling sound of the night-croaking frogs. Still he sat, and still none spoke. As Melathys moved across the room and sat down on the bench beside the bed, Kelderek realized that his posture had become unnatural and constrained, like that of a dog which, for fear of a rival, holds itself rigid against the wall. Still looking directly at neither of the women, he stood up, took the second lamp from the shelf at his elbow and went to the door.

  "I--I'll come back--something--a little while--"

  His hand was on the latch and for an instant, in an unintended glance, he saw the Tuginda's face against the shadowy wall. Her eyes met his and he looked away. He went out, crossed the room beyond and stood for a little beside the fire, watching as its caves and cliffs and ledges were consumed away, crumbled and gave place to others. Now and then the sound of the women's voices, speaking seldom and low, reached his ears and at length, wishing to be still more alone, he went to the room where he slept and, once there, put down the lamp and stood still as an ox in a field.

  What hold, what power over him did Shardik retain? Was it indeed of his own will or of Shardik's that he had slept beside him in the forest, plunged headlong into the Telthearna deeps and at last wandered from Bekla and his kingdom, through none would ever know what terror and humiliation, to Zeray? He had thought Shardik dead; or if not already dead, then dying far away. But he was not dead, not far away; and news of him had now reached--was it by his will that it had reached?--the man whom God had chosen from the first to be broken to fragments, just as the Tuginda had foretold. He had heard tell of priests in other lands who were the prisoners of their gods and people, remaining secluded in their temples or palaces until the day of their ritual, sacrificial death. He, though a priest, had known no such imprisonment. Yet had he been deluded in supposing himself free to renounce Shardik, to fly for his life, to seek to live for the sake of the woman whom he loved? Was he in truth like a fish trapped in a shrinking, landlocked pool in time of drought, free to swim wherever he could, yet fated, do what he might, to lie gasping at last on the mud? Like Bel-ka-Trazet, he had supposed that he had done
with Shardik, but Shardik, or so he now suspected, had not done with him.

  He started at the sound of a step and the next moment Melathys came into the dim room. Without a word he took her in his arms and kissed her again and again--her lips, her hair, her eyelids--as though to hide among kisses, as a hunted creature among the green leaves. She clung to him, saying nothing, responding by her very choice of acquiescence, like one bathing in a pool who chooses for her own delight to remain standing breathlessly under the cascade that fills it. At length he grew calmer and, gently caressing her face between his hands, felt on his fingers the tears which the lamplight had not revealed.

  "My love," he whispered, "my princess, my bright jewel, don't weep! I'll take you away from Zeray. Whatever may happen, I'll never, never leave you. We'll go away and reach some safe place together. Only believe me!" He smiled down at her. "I have nothing in the world, and I'll sacrifice all for your sake."

  "Kelderek." She kissed him in her turn, gently, three or four times, and then laid her head on his shoulder. "My darling. My heart is yours until the sun burns out. Oh, can there ever have been so sorry a place and so wretched an hour for declaring love?"

  "How else?" he answered. "How else could two such as we discover ourselves to be lovers, except by meeting at the end of the world, where all pride is lost and all rank and station overthrown?"

  "I will school myself to have hope," she said. "I will pray for you every day that you are gone. Only send me news as soon as you can."

  "Gone?" he replied. "Where?"

  "Why, to Lak--to Lord Shardik. Where else?"

  "My dear," he said, "set your mind at rest. I promised I would never leave you. I'm done with Shardik."

  At this she stood back and, spreading her two arms wide behind her, palms flat against the wall on either side, looked up at him incredulously.

  "But--but you heard what Ankray said--we all heard him! Lord Shardik is in the forest near Lak--wounded--perhaps dying! Don't you believe it is Lord Shardik?"

  "Once--ay, and not long ago--I meant to seek death from Shardik in atonement for the wrong I had done both to him and to the Tuginda. Now I mean to live for your sake, if you'll have me. Listen, my darling. Shardik's day is done forever, and for all I know Bekla's and Ortelga's day as well. These things ought not to concern us now. Our task is to preserve our lives--the lives of this household--until we can get to Lak, and then to help the Tuginda to return safely to Quiso. After that we shall be free, you and I! I'll take you away--we'll go to Deelguy or Terekenalt--farther, if you like--anywhere where we can live a quiet, humble life, live like the plain folk we were meant to be. Perhaps Ankray will come with us. If only we're resolute, we'll have the chance to be happy at last, away from such loads as men's spirits were never meant to bear and such mysteries as they were never meant to pry into."