At this moment, from somewhere in the darkness, a man whistled. Kelderek stood rigid. The blood pulsed in his head--five, six, seven, eight. Then, quietly but unmistakably, the whistler ran through the refrain of a song, "Senandril na kora, senandril na ro."
An instant later Sheldra grasped his wrist.
"Who is it, my lord?"
"I cannot tell," he whispered. "Wait."
The girl strung her bow with barely a sound and then guided his hand to the hilt of the knife at her belt. He drew it and crept forward. Close by, to his left, the bear growled and coughed. The thought of Lord Shardik pierced by the arrows of unseen enemies filled him with a desperate haste and anger. He began to push his way more quickly through the bushes. Immediately, from the darkness on his right, a low voice called, "Who's there?"
Whoever had spoken, at least he himself was now between him and Shardik. Peering, he could just make out the trunks of trees black against a paler darkness--the open sky above the river. A faint wind stirred the leaves and a star shone twinkling through.
Now came the sound of movement like his own--the snapping of sticks and rustle of foliage. Suddenly he saw what he had been waiting for--an instant's flicker between one tree and the next, so close that he was startled.
Ten paces--eight? He wondered whether Bal-ka-Trazet himself might be close at hand and in the same moment remembered the Baron's trick by the pool, when he had distracted the bear. His groping fingers could not find a stone, but he squeezed together a handful of moist earth and tossed it upward through the space between the tree trunks. It fell beyond with a disturbance of leaves, and as it did so he dashed forward. He blundered into a man's back--a tall man, for his head struck him between the shoulders. The man staggered and Kelderek, flinging one arm up and around his neck, jerked him backward. The man fell heavily on top of him and he twisted clear, raising Sheldra's knife.
The man had not uttered a sound and Kelderek thought, "He is alone." At this he felt less desperate, for Bel-ka-Trazet would have known better than to send one man to tackle Lord Shardik and his armed and devoted followers. He pressed the point of the knife against his throat and was about to call to Sheldra when the man spoke for the first time.
"Where is Lord Shardik?"
"What's that to you?" answered Kelderek, thrusting him back as he tried to sit up. "Who are you?"
The man, amazingly, laughed. "I? Oh, I'm a fellow who's come from Ortelga through the Dead Belt, with a fancy to be knocked half silly for whistling in the dark. Was it Lord Shardik that taught you to crush a man's throat from behind you like a Deelguy footpad?"
Whether really unafraid or only concealing his fear, he certainly seemed in no hurry to get away.
"Come through the Dead Belt by night?" said Kelderek, startled in spite of himself. "You're lying!"
"As you please," replied the other. "It's no matter now. But in case you don't know it, you're only a few yards from the Belt yourself. If the wind changes you'll smell the smoke of Ortelga. Shout loud and the nearest shendron will hear you."
This, then, was the cause of Shardik's uneasiness and sullen fear! He must already have smelled the town ahead. Suppose he should wander into the Dead Belt before morning? "God will protect him," thought Kelderek. "When daylight comes, he may turn back. But if he does not, I will follow him into the Belt myself."
It crossed his mind also that by morning the bear would be close to starving and therefore still more savage and dangerous; but he put the thought aside and spoke once more to the stranger.
"Why have you come?" he asked. "What are you seeking?"
"Are you the hunter, the man who first saw Lord Shardik?"
"My name is Kelderek, sometimes called Zenzuata. It was I who brought the news of Lord Shardik to the Tuginda."
"Then we have met already, in the Sindrad, on the night when you set out for Quiso. I am Ta-Kominion."
Kelderek remembered the tall young baron who had sat on the table and bantered him in his cups. He had felt confused and uncertain then, a common man among his betters, facing trouble alone. But matters had changed since.
"So Bel-ka-Trazet sent you to murder me," he said, "and you found me less helpless than you expected?"
"Well, you're right this far," replied Ta-Kominion. "It's true that Bel-ka-Trazet is seeking your death, and it's true that that's the reason why I'm here. But now listen to me, Kelderek Play-with-the-Children. If you suppose that I've come alone through the Dead Belt on the off chance of coming across one man in miles of forest and killing him, then you must believe I'm a sorcerer. No, I came to look for you because I want to talk to you; and I came by land and darkness because I didn't want Bel-ka-Trazet to know of it. I had no idea where you might be, but it seems I've been lucky--if what you call luck's a half-broken neck and a blow on the elbow. Now tell me, is Lord Shardik here?"
"He is not a bowshot away. Speak no ill of him, Ta-Kominion, if you want to live."
"You must understand me better, Kelderek. I'm here as Bel-ka-Trazet's enemy and the friend of Lord Shardik. Let me tell you something of what has been happening in Ortelga since you left."
"Wait!" Kelderek gripped the other's arm. Crouching together and listening, they could both hear Shardik moving in the forest.
"Sheldra!" called Kelderek. "Which way is he going?"
"He is returning, my lord, by the way he came. Shall I go back and warn the Tuginda?"
"Yes, but try not to lose him if he should wander further."
"So," said Ta-Kominion after a few moments, "they obey you, do they, Lord Kelderek? Well, if all I hear is true, you deserve it. Bel-ka-Trazet told the barons that you struck him down."
"I threw a stone. He was about to kill Lord Shardik while he lay helpless."
"So he said. He spoke to us of the folly and danger of allowing the people to believe that Lord Shardik had returned. 'Those women'll ruin us all,' he said, 'with that half-burnt bear they've got hold of. God knows what superstitious rubbish will come of it if they're not packed off where they belong. It'll be the end of all law and order.' He sent men out to look for you at the western end of the island, but you'd gone from there, it seems. One of them tracked you eastward almost as far as this; but when he came back, it was to me he spoke and not to Bel-ka-Trazet."
"Why?"
Ta-Kominion laid a hand on Kelderek's knee.
"The people know the truth," he said. "One of the Tuginda's girls came to Ortelga--but even if she had not, truth blows through the leaves and trickles between the stones. The people are weary of Bel-ka-Trazet's harshness. They are speaking secretly of Lord Shardik and waiting for him to come. If need be they are ready to die for him. In his heart, Bel-ka-Trazet knows this and he is afraid."
"Why," answered Kelderek, "that morning when he left the Tuginda, I saw the fear already in his eyes. I pitied him then and I still pity him, but he has set himself up against Lord Shardik. If a man chooses to stand in the path of a fire, can the fire take pity on him?"
"He thinks--"
Kelderek cut him short. "What do you want with me, then?"
"The people are not Bel-ka-Trazet. They know that Lord Shardik has returned to them. I have seen decent, simple men in Ortelga weeping for joy and hope. They are ready to rise against Bel-ka-Trazet and to follow me."
"To follow you? Follow you where?"
In the solitude of the forest, Ta-Kominion dropped his voice still lower.
"To Bekla, to regain what is ours."
Kelderek drew in his breath. "You're seriously planning to attack Bekla?"
"With the power of Lord Shardik we cannot fail. But Kelderek, will you join us? They say you have no fear of Shardik and can persuade him as you will. Is that true?"
"Only in part. God has made of me a vessel let down into Shardik's well and a brand lighted at his fire. He suffers me; nevertheless, to be near him is always to be in danger."
"Could you bring him to Ortelga?"
"Neither I nor anyone can drive Lord Shardik. He is the
Power of God. If it is so ordained, he will come to Ortelga. Yet how can he pass the Dead Belt? And what is it that you mean to do?"
"My own men are ready to strike now. They will make him a path through the Belt: along this shore--that's the easiest place. Only let Lord Shardik come and every man will join us--yes, join you and me, Kelderek! As soon as we are sure of Ortelga, then we'll march at once on Bekla, before they can learn the news."
"You make it sound easy, but I tell you again--I cannot bring Lord Shardik here and there like an ox. He acts by the will of God, not by my will. If you had seen him--faced him--you would understand."
"Let me face him, then. I will stand before him and beg him to help us. I'm not afraid. I tell you, Kelderek, all Ortelga is eager only to serve him. If I entreat him, he will give me a sign."
"Very well. Come with me. You shall speak with the Tuginda and face Lord Shardik for yourself. But if he gives you death, Ta-Kominion--"
"He will give much where much is offered. I have come to offer my life. If he takes it, why then I shall not live to be disappointed. If he gives it back to me, I will spend it in his service."
For answer Kelderek got to his feet and began to lead the way through the undergrowth. The night was still so dark, however, that he found it all but impossible to tell in which direction the camp lay. Feeling before them, they stumbled repeatedly; once Ta-Kominion nearly put out his eye on a pointed branch that pierced him under the lower lid. Kelderek could not tell how far they had gone or whether they might not have wandered in a circle. At last he glimpsed, still some distance off, the glow of the fire. He made toward it cautiously, expecting at any moment to be challenged by one of the girls, or even to come upon Lord Shardik himself, prowling in his angry hunger. But they met no one and at length, looking about him in perplexity, he realized that they had already reached the outskirts of the camp. They walked on side by side over the open ground, strewn with cut branches and garments, where the women had been sleeping, and so up to the untended remains of the fire.
Kelderek's perplexity became bewilderment. The place was deserted. Apparently there was no one whatever in the camp. He called, "Rantzay! Sheldra!" Receiving no reply, he shouted, "Where are you?"
The echo died and for some moments he could hear only the frogs and the rustle of the leaves. Then he was answered.
"Lord Kelderek!" It was Rantzay's harsh voice from the direction of the shore. "Come quickly, my lord!"
He had never heard her so much excited. He began to run and as he did so realized that it was growing light--light enough, at all events, to enable them to see their way to the river. As they approached he could make out the canoes and closer at hand the cloaked shapes of the women crowding together, some apparently up to their knees in the water. All were pressing forward, pointing, moving their heads one way and another and peering through the reeds. Beside the tall figure of Rantzay he recognized that of the Tuginda and ran toward her.
"What is it, saiyett? What has happened?"
Without speaking she took his arm and led him down into the shallows, among the reeds taller than his head. Between these, something had smashed a path and down this narrow lane he gazed out toward the Telthearna beyond. Over it the light was increasing, a windless, twilit gray without shadows. The far trees were motionless, the flowing water smooth. Still the Tuginda waded forward and still he followed, wondering at her haste. Waist-deep, feet groping, they reached the outer edge of the reed belt and to right and left the extent of the river opened before them. The Tuginda, one hand on his shoulder, pointed downstream to where a wide ripple like an arrowhead was breaking the calm surface. At its apex, the only living thing to be seen in all the expanse of trees and water, Shardik was swimming, his muzzle thrust upward at the sky as the current carried him toward Ortelga.
16 The Point and the Causeway
WITHOUT AN INSTANT'S HESITATION Kelderek flung himself forward into the deep water. Immediately--almost before his shoulders had broken the surface--he felt the current turning him bodily and sweeping him downstream. For a few moments he struggled, afraid as he found himself helpless against it. Then, awkwardly, he began to swim, bending back his neck to keep his head above water, splashing with his arms and bobbing up and down. Looking ahead, his water-blurred eyes could still make out the shape of the bear like a rick swept away in a flood.
Soon he realized that some freak of the river was carrying him toward the center, where the flow was swifter yet. Even if he should happen to touch upon a random spit or submerged bank, such as formed and dissolved continually in the strait, he would not be able to stand up in a current of this strength. Already he was beginning to tire. He tried to look about him for a floating branch or anything to which he might cling, but could see nothing. His feet, trailing deep, encountered some tangled, loomlike thing, intersticed and pliant, and as he jerked himself free, pain flickered up his leg and was gone as quickly as a spurt of flame. An instant later he spun around in an eddy, swallowed water, sank and, as his head came up again, found that he was facing upstream and still drifting on. The women among the reeds were now far-off, indistinguishable figures, appearing and disappearing as his eyes rose and fell. He tried to turn and face ahead, and as he did so heard across the water a sputtering call--"Kelderek! Inshore!"
Ta-Kominion, swimming behind him, was about halfway between himself and the shore which they had left. Although he appeared to be holding his own more easily than Kelderek, it was nevertheless clear that he had little breath for talking. He flung up one arm and gestured sharply toward the reeds, then fell once more to his task. Kelderek saw that he was trying to overtake him, but could not because of the slower current inshore. Indeed, the gap between them was widening. Ta-Kominion raised his head and seemed to shout again, but Kelderek could hear nothing except his own hard breathing and the splash and gurgle of the water. Then, as he bobbed upward for a moment, he caught faintly the words, "--shore before the point!"
As he grasped the baron's meaning, fear overcame him. He was being carried along the southeastern shore of Ortelga at a speed as fast as that of a man walking. As long as he remained in midstream he could not count on drifting against the submerged causeway that ran from the eastern point to the mainland. More likely he would be carried over or through it, pummeled down by this very current in which he was now struggling for his life. And if he were carried below Ortelga, he could not hope to come ashore alive.
He began to kick out and to clutch at the surface, panting and tiring himself still further. How far was it now to the point? The right, mainland bank seemed actually closer than that of Ortelga: yet how could that be? Then he recognized the place. The reeds had been cut back, exposing a sheet of open water beyond which, on the island shore, stood the zoan tree. Tall and far-off it looked--much farther than when last he had sighted it, returning to Ortelga on his raft. He thought of the shendron, perhaps looking out at this very moment through the silvery fronds. But the shendron, for all his vigilance, would never catch sight of him. He was nothing but flotsam, a dot moving in the gray light and gray water of early morning.
By God, but there was something else, though, that the shendron could not have failed to see! A little behind, but directly between himself and the zoan tree, Shardik was drifting like a cloud through a pale sky. There was no commotion of the water around him and the long wedge of his jaw lay half-submerged, the nostrils just clear, like those of an alligator. As the hunter watched, the bear turned his head for a moment and seemed to be staring toward him.
At this, desperate though he was, Kelderek felt a return of that brave impulse upon which he had thrown himself into the river to follow Shardik. Shardik had called him for some purpose of his own. Shardik had power to preserve and raise up those who gave him all, doubting nothing. If only he could reach Shardik, Shardik would save him, Shardik would not let him drown. As the zoan tree dropped out of sight he set himself, with the last of his strength, to swim inshore across the current. Slowly, very slowly,
he began to converge upon the bear. As he came by degrees into the slacker stream the distance between them lessened, until at last they were floating side by side and only a few yards apart.
He could do no more. He was exhausted, conscious of nothing but the deep water beneath him, the fear of drowning and, somewhere far out of reach, the presence of Shardik. He could see neither sky nor shore. "Accept my life, Lord Shardik. I regret nothing I did for you." Losing the power of thought, sinking, no longer breathing: arms flung upward, fingers clawing at the black, fainting dark; and now, in death, he felt once more the shaggy hair, the flank of Shardik, just as he had felt it when he walked beside him at nightfall into the forest and slept in the safety of his presence.
The darkness burst apart. He caught his breath and drew in the air. Sunlight was glittering on the water and sparkling in his eyes. He was clutching Shardik's flank, hanging by his clenched hands, tossing up and down, while beside him the great off-hind leg trod water as fast as mill wheels strike. Scarcely able at first to realize what had happened, he knew only that he was alive and that he could still get ashore before the town was left behind.
The bear had not turned its head or tried to shake him off, and indeed seemed unaware of him. He was puzzled by its indifference. Then, as his head and sight grew clearer, he sensed that it was intent upon something else, some purpose of its own. It was turning shoreward, to the left, and swimming more strongly. He could not see over the ridge of its back, but as it turned still further, land appeared beyond its shoulder. A moment later it was wading. He let his feet drop, touched bottom and found himself standing, submerged almost to his shoulders, on firm stones.
They came ashore together, the bear and the man, close to the now-cold cooking fires, the cluster of storage huts and servants' quarters lying shoreward of the Sindrad. Shardik, in his eagerness, thrust the water aside, splashing and shouldering through the shallows as though in pursuit of prey. Suddenly Kelderek saw the way of it. The bear was hungry--famished--desperate for food at any cost. Something had turned it back from the Dead Belt, but nevertheless it must have smelled food while lying in the forest and this was why it had plunged into the river. He remembered what Bel-ka-Trazet had said before leaving the Tuginda, "If it begins to plague Ortelga, I promise you I will have it killed."