I quickly turned my steps toward the lodge of Kahintokapa. I came to it, and then I stopped. Then, slowly, I walked about the lodge. I felt the warm sun on my back. Never before had I seen the shield of Kahintokapa outside of its shield cover, even when I had first seen him, long ago, with Canka and the members of the All Comrades, near the site of the battle of the wagon train, near, too, where the mercenaries had fought, and Alfred had escaped with the contingent of some three to four hundred men.
It is not uncommon for a warrior to keep his shield in its case or cover when not fighting. It is removed from the case, or cover, also, of course, when it is sunned, set forth to draw in power and medicine from the yellow, life-giving, blazing star of two worlds, Sol or Tor-tu-Gor, Light Upon the Home Stone.
I stood for a long time on the late-summer day, looking at the shild, hanging on the shield tripod. It turned, slightly, in the breeze, back and forth. I took care, in deference to the feelings of the red savages, not to let my shadow fall across it, while it was being sunned. Similarly, one does not pass between a guest and the fire in a lodge without begging his pardon.
I heard Cuwignaka and Canka coming up behind me. They, too, regarded the shield.
'You see it?' I asked.
'Of course,' said Cuwignaka.
'The hunter, long ago, in the snows,' I said, 'was Kahintokapa.'
'I do not understand,' said Cuwignaka.
' 'Two Feathers',' I said, 'was not a man's name, but the name of this place.'
'Of what is he speaking?' asked Canka.
'I do not know,' said Cuwignaka.
'Look upon the shield,' I said.
We all regarded the shield. It bore, painted on it, with meticulous detail, outlined in black, colored in with pigments, the visage of a Kur. It was a broad, savage head. One could see the proturding canines. The eyes, I thought, had been particularly well done. They seemed to look upon us. The left ear had been half torn away.
'It is Zarendargar, Half-Ear,' I said.
'Who is Zarendargar?' asked Cuwignaka.
'One with whom I once, long ago, and in a far place shared paga,' I said.
'That is the medicine helper of Kahintokapa,' said Canka.
'I would like to make its acquantance,' I said.
'These things are personal,' said Canka. 'These things are private. They are seen in dreams, in visions. How can one man see the medicine helper of another man?'
'I must speak to Kahintokapa,' I said.
'Kahintokapa is grievously wounded,' said Canka.
'Will you make known my desires to him?' I asked.
'We both will,' said Cuwignaka.
I looked at the visage on the shield. The likeness had been well caputred. Even now, among certain articles on the travois, brought from the lodge of Grunt at the festival camp, was the story hide, acquired long ago in the delta of the Vosk, some four pasangs from Port Kar. On this hide was protrayed the story of a hunt and of the finding of a medicine helper. This hide had been the clue which had brought not only Kog and Sardak, and their allies, to the Barrens, but myself as well. At the narrative's termination on the hide the artist had drawn a likeness of the medicine helper, protrayed as though on a shield. The image had been that, clearly, of Zarendargar. Now, deep within the Barrens, north of the Northern Kaiila River, in he country of the CAsmu Kaiila, I looked upon the shield itself.
I turned about.
Several people were gathered about.
I looked past the people, away from the camp, out over the grasses.
Then I turned again to Cuwignaka and Canka.
'I would speak to Kahintokapa,' I said.
'You would seek this medicine helper?' asked Canak.
'Yes,' I said.
'If you do,' said Canka, 'you must do so in accordance with our ways.'
'I will, of course,' I said, 'abide by your wishes.'
'Cuwignaka and I will speak to Kahintokapa,' said Canka. 'We will speak on your behalf.'
'I am grateful,' I said.
Chapter 35
IN THE VISION PLACE
'The body was never recovered,' I said.
'It would make a difference to a Tuchuk,' said Kamchak, of the Tuchuks.
A cold wind swept across the flat summit of Ar's Cylinder of Justice.
The stones were cold some twenty passangs west of the Casmu-Kaiila camp at Two Featers.
Again I held grass and earth with Kamchak, of the Tuchuks. I could fee it, cold in my hands, between my fingers.
It began to rain. The rain washed the dirt and grass from my hands. The bridges of Tharna had been gray and cool in the soft, long, slow rain.
In this distance heard the roars of the crowds in Ar's Stadium of Tarns.
I emerged from the baths of Ar. They semed suddenly cold.
The silver mask seemed unnaturally large. The women's voice, from behind it, seemingly far away, was wild with rage. 'We shall meet again!' I heard.
The tarn smote its way from the roof of the palace. Are tore past us.
The Dora was a ship, a tarn ship, a ram ship, shallow-drafted, stright-keeled, singl-banked, latten-rigged, carvel-built, painted gree, difficult to detect in the rolling waters of Thassa, our of Port Kar.
Lara, who had been Tatrix of Tharna, kneeling before me on a scarlet rug, in the camp of Targo, the Silver, lifted, suppilicating, holding them in her hands, two yellow cords to me.
Misk, at night, stood in the grasses near the Sardar, loftly, slender, grand against the moons, on a small bill, the wind moving his antennae.
I should have returned that night, perhaps, to the tavern of Sarpedon in Lydius, to see Vella dance. I had had business.
How splendid women look in the collars of men!
The sky was white with lightning. There was a great crash of thunder.
'It is a hurricane of stones!' cried Hassan, the wind tearing back his burnoose.
'Maybe it will be cold tonight,' speculated Imnak, bending over the slate point of his harpoon, methodically sharpening it with a stone, in the light of the small sleen-oil lamp.
'Yes,' I agreed.
The northern waters are cold. Torrents descended, lashing the sea. The serpent of Ivar Forkbeard, its mast and spar lashed down, pitched in the waves near the Skerry of Einar. I heard Ivar Forkbeard's great laugh.
Lightning crashed above the red crags of the Voltai.
'Let him be whipped,' said Marlenus of Ar.
Blows fell.
My cheek lay on the cold wet stones. One does not leave the vision place. Rain fell. I put out my hand and clutched ice. It rattled and struck about me, leaping up from the stones. My back was cut. The white clay on my body was streaked. I covered my head and lay on the stones. One does not leave the vision place.
It was hot.
I could hear the birds in the jungle of the Ua.
'Let us continue on,' said Kisu, and, again, the river before us, broad between the moist, tangled green thickets of the banks, backed on each side by the enclosing jungle, we dipped our paddles into the muddy, sluggish
