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 evidently 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 Ortelga. 'Crendro,' replied the hunter. 'You have come down the Ledges?' asked the woman. 'Yes.' 'Alone?' 'The priestess and the High Baron of Ortelga 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 Baron, then, to tell the Tuginda?'
'No. It is for myself to do so.' To 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 slightly 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 here a second girl was tending three 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 impatiently, 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 wooden, but the cups into which Melathys 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. When the two men had finished, Melathys 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, saiyett,' 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 instantly, 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, saiyett?'
'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 tired. 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 alone and exhausted on the Tereth stone.' 'Saiyett, this man is a hunter – a simple fellow whom they call -' He stopped, frowning. 'I know of him,' she said. 'On Ortelga they call him Kelderek Play-with-the-Children. Here he has no name, until I choose.' Bel-ka-Trazet resumed.
'He was brought to me tonight on his return from a hunting expedition, having refused to tell one of the shendrons whatever it was that he had seen. At first I treated him with forbearance, but still he would say nothing. I questioned him and he answered me like a child. He said, 'I have found a star. Who will believe that I have found a star?' Then he said, 'I will speak only to the Tuginda.' At this I threatened him with a heated knife, but he answered only, 'It must be as God wills.' And then, in this very moment, saiyett, arrived your message. 'So,' thought I, 'this man, who has said that he will speak only to you – who ever heard a man say this before? – let us take him at his word, if only to make him speak. He had better come to Quiso too – to his death, as I suppose, which he has brought upon himself.' And then he sits down upon the Tereth stone, God help us! And we find him face to face and alone with yourself. How can he return to Ortelga? He must die.'
'That is for me to say, while he remains on Quiso. You sec much, Baron, and you guard the people as an eagle her brood. You have seen this hunter and you are angry and suspicious because he has defied you. Have you seen nothing else from your eyrie on Ortelga this two days past?'
It was plain that Bel-ka-Trazet resented being questioned: but he answered civilly enough, 'The burning, saiyett. There has been a great burning.'
'For leagues beyond the Telthearna the jungle has burned. All yesterday it rained ashes on Quiso. During the night animals came ashore from the river – some of kinds never seen here before. A makati comes tame as a cat to Melathys, begging for food. She feeds it and then, following it to the water, finds a green snake coiled about the Tereth. Of whom are these the forerunners? At dawn, the brook in the high ravine left its course and streamed down over the Ledges: but at the foot it gathered itself, flowed back into its channel and did no harm. Why? Why were the Ledges washed, Baron? For the coming of your feet, or my feet? Or was it for the coming of some other feet? What messages, what signs were these?'
