A great bat came hovering out of the darkness, flittered soundlessly along the edge of the fire, turned away from the crackling heat and vanished as it had come.
"Kelderek, you say I think you're a coward. Is it I that think it, or you? It's not too late for you to redeem yourself, Kelderek Play-with-the-Children: to show yourself a man. Find a way to bring Lord Shardik to the plains of Bekla--fight for him there with your own hands. Think of the prize--a prize beyond reckoning! Do this, and no one will ever call you a coward again."
"I never was a coward. But the Tuginda--"
For the first time, Ta-Kominion smiled at him.
"I know you are not. When we have taken Bekla, what reward do you suppose there will be for him to whom Shardik first appeared, for him who brought the news to Quiso? Why, there is not a man on Ortelga who does not know your name and honor it already."
Kelderek hesitated, frowning.
"How soon must we begin?"
"At once--now. There is not a moment to lose. There are two things, Kelderek, that a rebel leader needs above all. First, his followers must be filled with a burning ardor--mere obedience is not enough--and secondly he himself must be all speed and resolution. The second I myself possess. The first only you can ensure."
"It may perhaps be possible--but I shall need every blacksmith, wheelwright and carpenter in Ortelga. Let us go and speak with the Tuginda."
As Ta-Kominion rose, Kelderek offered him the support of his arm, but the baron waved him aside, staggered a few steps, hesitated, then himself put his sound arm through Kelderek's and drew himself upright, leaning hard until he found his balance.
"Are you ill?"
"It's nothing--a touch of fever. It will pass off."
"You must be tired out. You ought to rest."
"Later."
Kelderek guided him away from the fire. In the close darkness under the trees they paused, sightless after the flame-light. A hand plucked Kelderek's sleeve and he turned, peering.
"Shall I guide you, my lord? Are you returning now to Lord Shardik?"
"Is it your watch, Neelith?"
"My watch is ended, my lord. I was coming to wake Sheldra, but it's no matter if you need me."
"No, get to sleep. Who is watching Lord Shardik?"
"Zilthe, my lord."
"Where is the Tuginda?"
The girl pointed, "Down yonder, among the ferns."
"Is she asleep?"
"Not yet, my lord; she has been praying this hour and more."
They left the girl and, their eyes becoming accustomed to the dark, moved on more easily. Soon the trees grew fewer and the close growth overhead opened here and there to reveal clouds and moonlight. The white beams faded and reappeared continually between the branches as the clouds drifted eastward across the moon. The turbid heat of the forest, a single block of dense air lying all about them, seemed now to begin to be assailed, whittled, rifted, encroached upon by gusts and momentary, cooler currents coming and going like the first wavelets of floodwater lapping around a dry shoal. As the leaves and light shifted in response to the breeze outside, the mass of the hot darkness on the ground stirred, slow and heavy as a bed of weed under water. As yet unpenetrated, it felt already on its outskirts the first impulse of that appointed, seasonal force that soon would grow to split it with lightning and storm.
Ta-Kominion stopped, lifting his head and sniffing the fresher air.
"The rains can't be long now."
"A day or two," replied Kelderek.
"That's the strongest reason of all for speed. It's now or never. We can't march or keep the field in the wet and nor can they. Even Bekla lies low in the rains. The last thing they'll be expecting is any sort of attack at this time of year. If they have no warning and we get there before the rains break we shall have complete surprise."
"Have they no spies?"
"We're not worth spying on, man. Ortelga? A bunch of scavengers perched on the butt-end of an overgrown spit."
"But the risk! If the rains come first, before we can fight, that will be the end of us. Are you sure there's time?"
"Lord Shardik will give us time."
As he spoke they came suddenly upon a broad slab of rock rising upright from the ground like a wall. It was flat, about as thick as a man's body, and rose irregularly to a blunt apex an arm's length above their heads. In the faint light the two sides appeared almost smooth, though as Kelderek groped wonderingly across one of the planes he could feel that it was rougher than it looked, flawed here and there and ridged with excrescent mosses and lichens. The rock was set deep in the soft earth of the forest like a wedge hurled down and hammered in by a giant long ago. Beyond, they could make out another, also flat but larger, slightly tilted and of a different shape. This, when they came to it, they saw was half-covered on one side with rusty-red lichen like a stain of dried blood. And now they found themselves peering and wandering between numbers of these tall, flat-sided masses--some, like fences, long and no higher than a man's shoulder, others rising in steep, conical blocks or cut, as it seemed, into flights of steps vanishing upward in the dark, but all worked to an even thickness and sheer-sided like gigantic axeheads, with never a broadening at the foot to anything resembling a base or plinth. Among them grew the ferns of which the girl had spoken--some huge, like trees, with moss hanging from the undersides of their fronds, others small and delicate, lace-fronded with tiny leaflets that trembled like aspen leaves in the still air. From hidden places among the rocks there came, even at this time of year, thin tricklings out of the peaty mold, scarcely enough to form anywhere a pool bigger than a man's cupped hands; though they shone, where the moonlight caught them, in faint streaks along the stones and the moist, dim fern-boughs. A snatch of breeze brought for an instant the minute pattering of drops blown across the shallowest of surfaces.
"Have you never been here before?" asked Ta-Kominion, as Kelderek stared up at the outline of a rock that seemed to be toppling forward between his eyes and the moving clouds above. "These are the Two-Sided Rocks."
"Once, many years ago, I came here; but I was not old enough then to wonder how the rocks were brought--or why."
"The rocks were here from the beginning, as I was told. But the men who made the Ledges on Quiso--they worked them, as others might trim a hedge or shape a tree, to strike wonder into the hearts of pilgrims approaching Ortelga. For it was here that the pilgrims used to assemble to be guided down to the causeway."
"This place is Lord Shardik's then, as Quiso is, and that is why he has led us here."
The Tuginda was standing a little way off, in an open place among the ferns. Her back was half-turned, her hands clasped at her waist and her head inclined as she gazed into the moonlit distance. Her bearing recalled to Kelderek the moment when she had stood on the edge of the pit, filled with the knowledge that it was none other than Shardik lying among the trepsis below. Plainly she was not withdrawn into contemplation, but seemed rather to have attained to some heightened state of alertness, in which she was aware with rapture of all that lay about her. Yet just as evidently, her eyes passed through the fern grove as they might have passed through water to perceive--or partly perceive--the moving life within it, the silence of the pool. For an instant Kelderek understood that not only now, but always, his own eye was filled with reflections from a surface through which her sight passed unimpeded. She seemed to be gazing into the sultry gloom as though at some marvelous spectacle, a dance of light and flowers. Yet still there remained about her that air of plain directness and shrewdness that had both deceived and reassured him by the Tereth stone on Quiso. If her prayer had had words, she might have been speaking of leather, wood and bread.
Ta-Kominion stopped, withdrew his arm from Kelderek's and leaned against one of the rock slabs, pressing his forehead against the cool stone.
"Is that the Tuginda?"
"Yes." He was surprised for a moment, before remembering that Ta-Kominion could never have seen her unmasked--might neve
r, perhaps, have seen her at all.
"Are you sure?"
Kelderek made no reply.
"The girl said she was praying."
"She is praying."
Ta-Kominion shrugged his shoulders and pushed himself upright. They went on. While they were still a little distance away the Tuginda turned toward them. Her face, in the moonlight, was full of a calm, tranquil joy which seemed to embrace and sanctify rather than transcend the dark forest and the danger and uncertainty surrounding all Ortelga. To Kelderek's eye, faith streamed from her as light from a lantern.
"It is she," he thought, in a swift access of self-knowledge, "she, not I, through whom the power of Shardik will be transmuted and made a blessing to us all. Her acceptance and faith--his force and savagery--they are one and the same. He is weak as a dumb creature without knowledge. She is strong as the shoots of the lilies, which great stones cannot prevent from breaking through the earth."
They stood before her and Kelderek raised his palm to his forehead. Her smile in reply was like the answering step in some happy dance, an exchange of mutual respect and trust.
"We interrupted you, saiyett."
"No, we are all doing the same thing--whatever it is. I came here because it's cooler among the ferns. But we'll go back to the fire now, Kelderek, if you prefer."
"Saiyett, your wishes are mine, and always will be."
She smiled again.
"You're sure?"
He nodded, smiling back at her.
"This is the High Baron of Ortelga, Lord Ta-Kominion. He has come to talk about Lord Shardik."
"I am afraid you are not well," she said, reaching out her fingers to take his wrist. "What has happened?"
"It is nothing, saiyett. I have been telling Kelderek that time is very short. Lord Shardik must come--"
At that instant, from somewhere in the middle distance, an appalling scream pierced the forest--a cry of fear and agony, confounding the minds of its hearers as lightning dazzles and confounds the eyes. There was a moment's silence. Then followed another scream, which broke off as suddenly as though a man falling in terror from a height had struck the ground.
Kelderek's eye met Ta-Kominion's and without a word the thought passed between them, "That was a man's death-cry."
Numiss and his companion came running toward them through the trees, their swords drawn in their hands.
"Thank God, my lord! We thought--"
"Never mind," said Ta-Kominion. "Follow me, come on!"
He set off at a run, threading his way in and out of the ferns and tall rocks. The two servants followed. Kelderek, however, remained with the Tuginda, suiting his pace to hers as he tried to persuade her to remain out of danger.
"Be advised, saiyett! Wait here and let me send you word of what we find. You must not risk your life."
"There's no risk now," she answered. "Whatever has happened, it's past mending."
"But there may--"
"Give me your arm over these rocks. Which way did the young baron take? The undergrowth is thick on the edge of the forest, but with luck they will break a way through for us."
Soon they came upon Ta-Kominion and the servants hacking with their knives at a belt of creepers.
"Is there no easier way, my lord?" panted Numiss, picking the trazada thorns from his forearm and stifling his curses as he caught sight of the Tuginda.
"Very likely there is," replied Ta-Kominion, "but we must make straight toward where the cry came from, or we shall lose direction and never find the fellow until daylight."
Suddenly Kelderek's ear caught a sound somewhere between weeping and the whimpering of fear. It was a woman's voice, a little distance away.
"Zilthe!" he called.
"My lord!" replied the girl. "Oh, come quickly!"
As Numiss cut his way out through the farther side of the creepers, Kelderek followed Ta-Kominion through the gap. He found himself clear of the trees and looking across an open valley. Opposite, perhaps half a mile away, the edge of the forest in the moonlight showed black and dry as a hide hung to cure on a line. Down in the bottom he could just make out the dark cleft of a brook, while far to his right the Gelt Mountains showed dimly against the night sky.
Below the place where they were standing ran the road from Ortelga to Gelt--a track trodden along the hillside between scrub and bushes, with here and there the stump of a long-felled tree and here and there, to mend some muddy or broken place, a patch of stones carried up from the bed of the brook and laid haphazard, to settle to a level with use and time.
Down at the edge of the road Zilthe, her bow lying beside her, was bending on one knee over the dark shape of a body. As Kelderek watched she rose, turned her head and looked up toward him, but evidently could not perceive him among the trees and shadows.
The Tuginda came through the creepers. He pointed without speaking and together they began to make their way down. Ta-Kominion, motioning his servants to remain a little behind, muttered, "A dead man--but where's the killer?"
The others made no reply. As they approached, Zilthe stepped back from the body. It was lying in blood which glistened viscous, smooth and black in the moonlight. One side of the head had been smashed into a great wound and from below the left shoulder blood was still oozing through lacerated rents in the cloak. The eyes were staring wide, but the open mouth and bared teeth were partly hidden by one arm which the man must have flung up to try to defend himself. He was wearing heeled boots, the boots of a messenger, and beneath the heels were dents in the ground, which he must have kicked as he died.
The Tuginda put her arm around Zilthe's shoulders, led her a little distance away and sat down beside her. Kelderek followed. The girl was weeping and terrified but able to speak.
"Lord Shardik, saiyett--he was sleeping. Then he woke suddenly and began to return toward the road, the same way that he went this afternoon. One would have thought that he had some purpose of his own. I tried to follow him but after a little he went fast, as though he were hunting--pursuing. When I reached the edge of the trees"--she pointed up the slope--"he was already down here. He was waiting--crouching behind the rocks. And then, after only a little, I heard the man--I saw him coming up the road and I ran out of the trees to call out and warn him. But I caught my foot--I stumbled and fell and as I got up, Lord Shardik came out from behind the rocks. The man saw him and screamed. He turned and ran, but Lord Shardik followed him and struck him down. He--he--" In the vividness of her recollection the girl beat at the air with one arm held out stiffly, open-handed, the fingers apart, rigid and curved.
"I might have saved him, saiyett--" She began to weep once more.
Ta-Kominion came over to them, his tongue protruding between his bared teeth as he shifted the position of his wounded arm in its sling.
"Do you recognize that man, Kelderek?" he asked.
"No. Is he from Ortelga?"
"He is from Ortelga. His name was Naron and he was a servant."
"Whose?"
"He served Fassel-Hasta."
"Served Fassel-Hasta? Then what could he have been doing here?"
Ta-Kominion hesitated, looking back at Numiss and his fellow, who had lifted the body to the other side of the track and were doing what they could to make it decent. Then he held out a blood-spattered leather scrip, opened it and showed to the Tuginda two strips of bark inked with brush-written letters.
"Can you read this message, saiyett?" he asked.
The Tuginda took the stiff, curved sheets and held first one and then the other at arm's length in the moonlight. Kelderek and Ta-Kominion could learn nothing from her face. At last she stood up, returned the sheets to the scrip and without speaking gave it back to the baron.
"You have read it, saiyett?"
She nodded once, reluctantly it seemed, as though she would have preferred, if she could, to disown knowledge of the message.
"Does it tell us what this man was doing here?" persisted Ta-Kominion.
"He was carrying new
s to Bekla of what happened in Ortelga today." She turned aside and looked down into the valley.
Ta-Kominion cried out and the servants across the road looked up, staring.
"God! It tells that we have crossed the causeway and what we mean to do?"
She nodded again.
"I might have guessed it! Why didn't I post my own men to watch the road? That treacherous--"
"But the road was watched for us nevertheless," said Kelderek. "Surely it was no accident that Zilthe stumbled before she could warn the man. Lord Shardik--he knew what had to be done!"
They stared at each other as the long, moonset shadow of the forest crept lower down the hillside.
"But Fassel-Hasta--why did he do it?" asked Kelderek at last.
"Why? For wealth and power, of course. I should have guessed! It was always he who dealt with Bekla. 'Yes, my lord.' 'I'll write it for you, my lord.' By the Bear! I'll write on his face with a hot knife this morning. That for a start. Numiss, you can leave that body for the buzzards--if they'll touch it."
His loud words, echoing, startled three or four pigeons out of the cleft of the brook below. As they rose with a clatter of wings and flew across the road and up into the forest Ta-Kominion, watching their flight, suddenly pointed.
From the edge of the trees, Shardik was looking down into the valley. For a moment they saw him plainly, his shape, black against the line of the woods, like an opened gate in a city wall. Then, as Kelderek raised his arms in salutation and prayer, he turned and vanished into the darkness.
"God be thanked!" cried Ta-Kominion. "Lord Shardik saved us from that devil! There--there is your sign, Kelderek! Our will is Shardik's will--our plan will succeed! No more children's games on the shore for you, my lad! We'll rule in Bekla; you and I! What is it you need? Tell me, and you shall have it within an hour of daybreak."
"Hark!" said the Tuginda, laying a hand on his arm.
From the forest above came faint calls. "Saiyett!" "Lord Kelderek!"
"Neelith will have woken Rantzay when she heard the man scream," said Kelderek. "They're looking for us. Zilthe, go up and bring them down. You are not afraid?"