until we've captured Ikat and defeated Erketlis.' Zelda had agreed, but then added, 'And equally, of course, we can't afford to alienate too many of our own people, even if they're not Ortelgans. Be careful it doesn't get out of hand.' Kelderek felt himself like a man in dire need who takes care not to probe too closely the specious assurances of an affable money-lender. Though inexperienced as a ruler, he had never lacked common sense, and had learned early in life to distrust fair appearances and any prize that came too easily. 'But when we have taken Ikat,' he told himself, 'then we'll be able to cease these shifts and hand-to-mouth methods. O Lord Shardik, bring us one more victory! Then we will put an end to the slave-trade and I will be free to seek nothing but your truth.' Sometimes, at the thought of this great day, the tears would spring to his eyes as readily as to those of any enslaved child at the memory of home.
27 Zelda's Advice
Kelderek looked about him at the shadowy, cavernous hall – as grim and barbaric a temple of blood as had ever housed the trophies of a tyranny. Because of the dimness of the light from above, torches, fixed in iron brackets, burned continually, and these had discoloured the brickwork and the stone columns with irregular, cone- shaped streaks of black. In the still air the thick, yellow flames lolled hither and yon, sluggish as lob-worms disturbed in winter-dug earth. Now and then a spurt of resin flared sideways or a knot exploded with a crack. The smoke, eddying in the roof and mingling its pine-scent with the smell of the bear, seemed like the rustling sound of the straw made visible. Between the torch-brackets, panoplies were fixed to the walls – short-swords and car- flapped helmets of Belishba, the round, leather shields of Deelguy mercenaries and the spike-and-ball spears which Santil-ke-Erketlis had first brought north from Yelda. Here, too, was the ripped and bloody banner of the Chalice of Deparioth, which Ged-la-Dan himself had taken two years before at the battle of Sarkid, cutting his way through the enemy's hurdle-palisades at the head of twelve followers, not one of whom had remained unwounded at the fight's end. The Canadiron of Lapan, with its serpent's head and condor's wings arching to stoop, stood wreathed with vine-shoots and red blossom, for it had been brought to Bekla as an enforced (though dubious) surety for the loyalty of Lapan, by hostage-priests who were permitted to continue its rites in attenuated form. Along the further wall, domed and yellow in the torchlight, were ranged the skulls of enemies of Shardik. Little they differed one from another, save in the patterns formed by the grinning teeth; though two or three were cracked like old plaster and one was faceless, mere splinters surrounding a jagged hole from forehead to jawbone. The shadows of their eye- sockets moved in the torchlight, but Kelderek had long ceased to pay any attention to these unburied remains. To him, indeed, the display was tedious – nothing more than a sop to the vanity of subordinate commanders in the field, one or another of whom would from time to time claim that he had killed enemies of rank and hence deserved the distinction of presenting the skulls to Shardik. The girls kept them in trim, oiling and wiring, as once they had busied themselves with their hoes on the Ledges of Quiso. Yet for all the accumulated mementoes of this victory and that (thought Kelderek, pacing slowly down the hall and turning at the sound of a sudden, plunging movement behind the bars), the place was still what it had always been – disordered, impermanent, a repository rather than a shrine: perhaps because the life of the city itself had become that of a base behind an army, a society with few young men and too many lonely women. Had not Shardik been better served among the scarlet flowers of the trepsis beside the pool, and in the dry, twilit forest whence he himself had first stepped forward to offer him his life?
'When a fish is caught and lies in the net,' he thought, 'one sees the lustre dying slowly out of its scales. And yet – how else to eat the fish?'
He turned once more, this time at the sound of approaching footsteps in the corridor. The gong of the clock near the Peacock Gate had not long struck the tenth hour and he had not expected Gcd-la-Dan's arrival so soon. Zilthe, older now, but still trim, quick and light-stepping, came into the hall, raising her palm to her forehead with the smile of a friend. Of all the girls who had come from Quiso or had since entered the service of Shardik, Zilthe alone possessed both grace and a light heart, and Kelderek's sombre mood softened as he returned her smile. 'Has Lord Ged-la-Dan come so soon?'
'No, my lord,' replied the girl. 'It is General Zelda who wishes to see you. He says that he hopes the time is convenient, for he needs to speak with you soon. He did not say so, my lord, but I believe that he wants to see you before General Ged-la-Dan arrives.'
'I will go out to him, said Kelderek. 'Watch by Lord Shardik – you or another. He must not be left alone.' 'I will feed him, my lord – it is time.'
'Then put the food in the Rock Pit If he will go out there for a while, so much the better.'
Zelda was waiting on the sun-terrace that ran along the south side of the hall, his dark-red cloak drawn close against the chilly breeze. Kelderek joined him and together they walked across the gardens and on into the fields lying between the Barb and the Leopard HilL 'You have been watching with Lord Shardik?' asked Zelda.
'For several hours. He is disturbed and fretful.' 'You speak as though he were a sick child.'
'At these times we treat him as such. It may be nothing – but I would be happier if I were sure that he is not sick.'
'Perhaps – could it be-' Zelda paused, but then said only, 'Much sickness is ended by the coming of summer. He will soon be better.'
They rounded the western shore of the Barb and began to cross the pasture slope beyond. Before them, about three quarters of a mile away, lay that part of the city walls that ran uphill to encircle Crandor's eastern spur.
'Who's that fellow coming down towards us?' asked Zelda, pointing.
Kelderek looked. 'Some nobleman – a stranger. It must be one of the provincial delegates.'
'A southerner by the look of him – too dandified for any northern or western province. Why is he walking here alone, I wonder?'
'He's free to do so if he wishes, I suppose. Many who visit the city like to be able to say that they've walked entirely round the city Walls.' The stranger came on, bowed graciously, with a rather affected sweep of his fur cloak, and passed by. 'Do you know him?' asked Zelda.
'Elleroth, Ban of Sarkid – a man about whom I've found out a good deal.' 'Why? Isn't he safe?'
'Possibly – possibly not. It's strange that he should have come himself as delegate. He was with Erketlis in the Slave Wars – in fact he's been a noted Heldro in his time. There's no particular reason why he should have changed his ideas, but all the same I was advised that it would be safer to leave him alone than to try to get rid of him. He has a lot of influence and standing with his own people, and as far as I can learn he's never done us any actual harm.' 'But has he helped us?'
'Lapan's been fought over so much that it's hard to say. If a local ruler takes care to keep in with both sides, who's to blame him? There's nothing known against him except his record before we came.' 'Well, we'll see what he has to offer us at the Council.'
Still Zelda seemed hesitant to talk of whatever had led him to seek out Kelderek, and after a little Kelderek spoke again.
'Since we're talking of the delegates, I ought to mention another to you – the man you recently appointed as governor of Kabin.'
'Mollo? What about him? By the way, that man is staring after us -1 wonder why?'
'Strangers not uncommonly stare after me,' replied Kelderek with a faint smile. 'I've become accustomed to it'
'That's it, no doubt. Well, what about Mollo? S'marr Torruin of the Foothills recommended him – 'says he's known him for years. He seems an excellent man.'
'I've learned that until a short time ago he was a provincial governor in Deelguy.' 'In Deelguy? Why did he leave?'
'Exactly. To take up his patrimony of a small estate in Kabin? I'm inclined to doubt it. Our present relations with Deelguy are strained and difficult – we don't know what they may be intending. I wonder whether we ought to risk this appointment of yours – we might be walking into a trap. A knife in the back from Kabin would be bad just at the moment.'
'I think you're right, Kelderek. I knew nothing of this. I'll speak to Mollo myself tomorrow. We can't afford any
