Shardik

They've not been gone an hour.'

'I'd say, take his advice,' said Baltis, who had approached and was standing at Kelderek's shoulder. 'No point in waiting till they work themselves up to rush us.' 'But our people are tired,' answered Kelderek angrily.

They'll be worse than that, my boy, if we don't get out of here,' said Baltis. 'Come now – I'm no coward and neither are those lads of mine: but there's nothing to be gained by staying.' Then, as Kelderek still hesitated, he called out to the men, 'Show us the way, then, and we'll go.'

At this, like a pack of pic-dogs, they all took a few wary steps forward; and then began shouting and pointing southwards. As soon as he was sure of the way, Kelderek drew a line in the dust with his foot and warned them not to cross it until the Ortelgans were gone.

'Ay, we can leave Gelt without any help from you,' shouted Baltis, laying hold of the ropes once more to encourage his weary men.

They plodded slowly away, the townspeople staring after them, chattering together and pointing at the huge, brown body stretched behind the bars.

Outside the town the road fell away downhill. Soon it became so steep that their task was no longer to drag the cage after them but rather to control its downward course. Coming to a broad, level place above a long slope, they turned it about and took the strain on the ropes from behind. At least the ground, dry and gritty, gave good foothold and for a time they made better speed than during the morning. A mile or two below, however, the road narrowed and began to wind along the rocky side of a ravine, and here they were forced to let the cage down foot by foot, straining backwards while Sencred and two or three of his men used poles to lever the front wheels this way and that. At one place, where the bend was too sharp, they had to set to work to broaden the track, prising out the rocks with hammers, iron bars and whatever came to hand, until at last they were able to shift an entire boulder and send it plummeting over the edge into long seconds of silence. Further on, two of the men slipped and the rest, cursing and terrified, were jerked forward and nearly pulled off their feet.

Not long after this, Kelderek saw that play had increased in the wheels and that the whole structure had shifted and was no longer true on the frame. He consulted Baltis.

'It's not worth trying to right it,' answered the smith. 'The truth is, another hour or two of this is going to shake the whole damned thing to pieces. The frame's being ground Like corn, d'ye see, between the road below and the weight of the bear above. Even careful work couldn't stand up to that for ever, and this lot had to be done quick – like the loose girl's wedding. So what d'ye want, young fellow – are we going on?'

'What else?' replied Kelderek. And indeed for all their hardship and near exhaustion, not one of the men had complained or tried to argue against their going on to overtake the army. But when at last they had done with the precipices and the steep pitches and were resting at a place where the road broadened and entered an open wood, he allowed himself for the first time to wonder how the business would end. Apart from the girls, who were initiates of a mystery and in any case would never question anything he told them to do, no one with him had any experience of the strength and savagery that Shardik could put forth. If he were to waken in the midst of the Ortelgan army and burst, raging, out of the flimsy cage, how many would be slaughtered? And how many more, through this, would become convinced of his anger and disfavour towards Ortelga? Yet if Baltis and the rest, for their own safety, were told to abandon Shardik now, what could he himself say to Ta-Kominion, who had sent word that Shardik must be brought at all costs?

He decided to press on until they were close behind the army. Then, if Shardik were still unconscious, he would go forward, report to Ta-Kominion and obtain further orders.

But now it became a matter of finding men with enough strength left to pull on the ropes. After the past twelve hours some were scarcely able to put one foot before the other. Yet even in this extremity, their passionate belief in the destiny of Shardik drove them to stumble, to stagger, to hobble on. Others, in the very act of pulling, fell down, rolling out of the track of the wheels and gasping to their companions to give them a hand. Some set themselves to push behind the cage, but as soon as it gathered a little speed, fell forward and measured their length on the road. Sencred cut himself a forked crutch and limped on beside his splayed wheels. Their pace was that of an old man creeping the street, yet still they moved -as a thaw moves up a valley, or flood-water mounts in minute jerks to burst its banks at last and pour over the land. Many, like Zilthe, put their arms through the bars to touch Lord Shardik, believing and feeling themselves strengthened by his incarnate power.

Into this bad dream fell the rain, mingling with sweat, trickling salty over puffed lips, stinging open blisters; hissing through the leaves, quenching the dust in the air. Baltis lifted his head to the sky, missed his footing with the effort and stumbled against Kelderek. 'Rain,' he grunted. 'The rain, lad! What's to be done now?'

'What?' mumbled Kelderek, blinking as though the smith had woken him. 'The rain, I says, the rain! What's to become of us now?' 'God knows,' answered Kelderek. 'Go on – just go on.*

'Well – but they can't fight their way to Bekla in the rain. Why not go back while we can – save our lives, eh?'

'No!' cried Kelderek passionately. 'No!' Baltis grunted and said no more.

Many times they ground to a stop and as many times found themselves moving again. Once Kelderek tried to count their lessening numbers, but gave up in confusion. Sencred was nowhere to be seen. Of the girls, Nito was missing, Muni and two or three more. Those who were left still kept beside the cage, daubed from head to foot with rainy mud churned up by the wheels. The light was failing. In less than an hour it would be dark. There was no sign of the army and Kelderek realized with desperation that in all probability his band of fireless stragglers would be forced to spend the night in the wilderness of these foothills. He would not be able to keep them together. Before morning they would be shivering, sick, mutinous, victims of panic fear. And before morning, if Zilthe were right, Shardik would awaken. Baltis came up beside him again.

'It's a bad look-out, y'know, young fellow,' he said between his teeth. 'We'll have to stop soon: it'll be dark. And what's to be done then? You and I'd better go on alone – find the young baron and ask him to send back help. But if you ask me, he'll have to come back out of it himself if he wants to stay alive. You know what the rains are. After two days a rat can hardly move, let alone men.' 'Hark!' said Kelderek. 'What's that noise?'

They had come to the top of a long slope, where the road curved downhill di rough thick woodland. The men on the ropes stood still, one or two sinking down in the mud to rest. At first there seemed to be no sound except, all about them, the pouring of the rain in the leaves. Then, faintly, there came again to Kelderek's ears the noise he had heard at first – distant shouting, sharp and momentary as flying sparks, voices confusing and overlaying one another like ripples on a pool. He looked from one man to the next. All were staring back at him, waiting for him to confirm their single thought 'The army!' cried Kelderek.

'Ay, but what's the shouting for?' said Baltis. 'Sounds like trouble to me.' Sheldra ran forward and laid her hand on Kelderek's arm. 'My lord I' she cried, pointing. 'Look! Lord Shardik is waking!'

Kelderek turned towards the cage. The bear, its eyes still closed, was haunched on the rickety floor in an unnatural, crouching position, suggesting not sleep but rather the grotesque posture of some gigantic insect – the back arched, the legs drawn up together under the body. Its breathing was uneven and laboured and froth had gathered at its mouth. As they watched it stirred uneasily and then, with an uncertain, stupefied groping, raised one paw to its muzzle. For a moment its head lifted, the lips curling as though in a snarl, and then sank again to the floor.

'Will he wake now – at once?' asked Kelderek, shrinking involuntarily as the bear moved once more.

'Not at once, my lord,' answered Sheldra, 'but soon – within the hour.'

The bear rolled on its side, the bars clattered like nails on a bench and the near-side wheels lurched, splaying under the massive weight. The sounds of battle were plain now and through the shouting of the Ortelgans they could discern a rhythmic, intermittent cry – a concerted sound, hard and compact like a missile. 4Bek-la Mowt! Bek-la Mowt!'

'Press on!' shouted Kelderek, hardly knowing what he said. 'Press on! Shardik to the battle! Take the strain behind and press on!'

Fumbling and stumbling in the rain, they unfastened the wet ropes, hitched them to the other end of the rickety bars and pushed the cage forward down the slope, checking it as it gathered momentum. They had gone only a short distance when Kelderek realized that they were closer to the battle than he had supposed. The whole army must be engaged, for the din extended a long way to right and left. He ran a short distance ahead, but could see nothing for the thick trees and failing light. Suddenly a little knot of five or six men came running up the hill, looking back over their shoulders. Only two were carrying weapons. One, a red-haired, raw-boned fellow, was ahead of the others. Recognizing him, Kelderek grabbed his arm. The man gave a cry of pain, cursed, and aimed a