Shardik

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 backwards 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. '1 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 wine-skins 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 fish-hooks and the knife-blades, 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 sec, I couldn't talk to the chief or any of the ciders. 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 rumour 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 consumed away, crumbled and gave place to others. Now and then the sound of the women's voices, speaking seldom and low, reached his cars 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, land-locked 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.