"For money?"
"Yes, sir. I only had twelve meld and so I told her, but she said that would be all right. Like Dectaron told you, sir, she was very pressing, like."
"And you weren't, I suppose?" asked Mollo. "Is that it?"
"No, sir: I can't deny as I was willing enough. I spent the rest of the night with her and early this morning we were both asleep when Dectaron came back off guard."
"And what happened then?" said Mollo sardonically to Dectaron. "You were delighted, I suppose?"
"Well; sir, as soon as I come in I realized what must have happened--that's to say, that she'd taken on another man to make herself some more money. But I wasn't an-gry, like I might have been if it had been some man as I didn't know. Only you see, sir, Lortil and me, we've been together all through the campaign, ever since we joined up--"
"I know," said Mollo. "Share and share alike, eh? You seem to have stuck to that very thoroughly. Well, go on."
"Well, sir, I woke the both of 'em up, and told the girl it was highjime for her to be going before the tryzatt come round. I didn't want anyone finding her in my shelter, you see."
"Didn't you really? Well, so what did she say to that?"
"Well, sir, this was when all the trouble began, and I'm sure I'm very sorry for it--we both are--but we didn't go to start it, sir, and that's as true as I'm here. First of all the girl set out to try and make us jealous of each other. Anyone could see she hoped we were going to get angry-- start fighting an' that. Only of course that didn't work, for the reasons as I've explained. So when she saw that was no good, sir, she got up off the bed, just as she was--with nothing on, I mean--and she says, 'Oh,' she says, 'I want another hundred meld before I'm going out of here.' So I told her I hadn't got any more money to give her even if I'd a mind to, which I hadn't, and Lortil told her the same. So then she said, 'Well, you'd better go out and get some, then--borrow it or something o' that, because I'm not going else, and if you try to make me I'll kick up such a shine as'll bring your tryzatt and officers here as fast as hounds,' she says.
"Well, at that, sir, we both of us did get angry, I'll admit. So Lortil, he says, 'Don't you try that stuff with us,' he says. 'Gome on,' he says to me, 'if she won't put her clothes on, we'll just have to put 'em on for her, won't we?' So he goes to grab her and stuff a cloth in her mouth, sir; keep her quiet, see, while we was getting her clothes on. But she was too much for us, sir, and that's the plain truth. She bit my finger very near through, and then she flew at Lortil, sir, scratching and biting, and at the same time she'd begun screaming at the top of her voice, just like she'd said she would. So I thought, well, this has got to be stopped quick, I thought. She had her arms right round Lortil, sir--only he still had nothing on, you see--and she was biting and scratching at his shoulders and his neck. So I tried to pull her away from him, only I couldn't--she was locked against him that tight there was nothing I could get a hold of. Well, I wasn't thinking too clearly, sir: I mean, the girl was carrying on like a wild animal, really, and we were both just about frantic. She had her teeth sunk in Lortil's shoulder, and I took her by the head and jerked it back--well, it was hard, I don't deny it was-- only I felt I had to get her off him at all costs, you see. And then all of a sudden she just went limp and fell on the ground, and Lortil, he says, 'Oh, Cran almighty,' he says, 'I reckon her neck's broke!' And so it was, sir; she was dead as a rat. There was nothing we could do. So as soon as we realized that, Lortil says, 'Well, there's no help for it,' he says.
"Only thing to do is make a clean breast of the whole business.' So we went straight off and reported to tryzatt Miarn. And that's the truth, sir, every word. We're both very sorry this should have come about, only there was provocation, like."
"Do you want to ask these men any questions, Captain Mollo?" said Elleroth.
"We're only got your word for all this, haven't we?" said Mollo. "You've no other evidence to put forward?"
"No, sir, 'ceptin' for the bites and scratches, and we had no reason to want to kill the girl, sir. Neither of us had had any drink--it was early morning, like I said: and as soon as we realized what we'd done we come straight forward, sir."
"Do you want to ask any questions?" said Elleroth, turning to Bayub-Otal, Zen-Kurel and Zirek. They shook their heads.
"Is the guard outside?" asked Elleroth.
"Yes, sir," answered the second tryzatt.
"Take them outside and keep them somewhere near-by," said Elleroth. "Tryzatt Miarn, will you stay behind, please?"
When the two soldiers had gone he said, "Now, I want your personal opinion of these men, Miarn."
"They're both good men, sir. Done well in Chalcon, sir, and in the battle, too."
"Do you believe they're telling the truth?"
"Seeing what you said about the dead young woman, sir, I'm very sorry to have to say it, but yes, sir, I think they are."
"How much money did you find in her clothes?" asked Elleroth.
"Forty-two meld, sir; all in one-meld pieces."
"Thank you, tryzatt; that's all."
The tryzatt saluted and went out. Elleroth sat silent for almost a full minute. At length he said, "I confess this defeats me. Here's this obviously very brave and charming girl, who went to Bekla and helped to kill Sencho--one of the most heroic exploits I've ever heard of in my life-- and according to these men--and they are decent enough men in the normal way, as I know myself--wouldn't you agree, Mollo?--"
"Two of the best I've got. Can't expect soldiers to be basting saints, that's it, 'specially after a campaign like this--"
"Excuse me, sir," said Zirek. "I'm afraid the truth is that what seems so strange to you is perfectly understandable to me. I knew Meris very well: I believe every word the soldiers said and I can tell you why."
The others listened as he told them all he knew of Meris, from Belishba to Lapan.
"Poor girl!" said Elleroth, when he had finished. "Well, she's not the first and she won't be the last. Thank you, Zirek: that makes everything very clear. So you'd agree, Mollo, that she really brought it on herself?"
Mollo nodded morosely. "But they can't be let off altogether."
"Oh, no. They're both guilty of condoning a woman in breaking curfew and whoring round the camp; and on top of that, Dectaron's guilty of leaving his duty while on guard, and that's a serious offense. What do you think?"
"I'd offer them their choice between dishonorable discharge and a flogging."
"But--er--wouldn't that just mean that you'd lose two good soldiers?"
"Not a bit of it! The men are all convinced they're going to be looting Bekla in two weeks from now. That's what they've marched and fought all the summer for--to line their pockets. Offer Dectaron twenty lashes and Lortil twelve. They'll take them; you'll see. And it'll be very good for morale, Elleroth, believe me, when word gets round that you and I evidently think discharge now would be a punishment as bad as a flogging. The men'll all be sure that you must know for certain we're on the point of taking Bekla, that's it."
"Very well: I agree," said Elleroth. He became pensive once more. "Poor Meris! You've told us, Zirek, that she enjoyed making trouble. She certainly managed it this time, but it was rather expensive for her, wasn't it? And to think she only had to wait a little while to be rich and secure for the rest of her life! Human nature's a strange thing." He stood up. "Well, we'd better go and finish our job, I suppose--which I don't relish."
"Nor I ours," murmured Zirek. Elleroth looked up at him inquiringly, and he said, "Someone's got to tell Maia."
Bayub-Otal and Zen-Kurel exchanged a glance. There was a short silence.
"I suggest all three of us go together," said Zen-Kurel.
Meris burned at nightfall, her pyre surrounded by hundreds of pitying onlookers, for the women and children had been brought back from the other side of the river and many of the Ortelgans, more than content with Ta-Kominion's news of his negotiations with Elleroth, had already come over to the Sarkidian camp to fraternize. Untim
ely death, of course, was nothing out of the ordinary either to the soldiers or the ex-slaves, but throughout the camp there had been much talk of the beautiful girl, a guest of the commander, who had succeeded in a desperate exploit for the heldril and been on her way to Santil-ke-Erketlis to receive her reward. Fanned by hearsay, indignation had spread against the men responsible for her death, until Mollo obtained Elleroth's consent to assemble his own company--the culprits' comrades--and tell them the rights of the matter before having the punishment inflicted (for, as he had guessed, both declined discharge and even accepted the alternative with some relief, since the possibility of being hanged for murder had been doing nothing for their peace of mind).
As the ceremony of the burning began--four soldiers, each with a resinous torch, standing to the corners of the pyre to set light to it simultaneously--Zirek moved quietly away from the group round Elleroth and stood apart, gaz-ing intently as the blaze spread inward. Maia, overcome with grief and by the majesty and solemnity of the occasion, did not notice that he had left her side. It was only later, after Elleroth had stepped forward to throw the appointed grain, salt and wine upon the embers; after the people had begun to disperse and Bayub-Otal and Zen-Kurel had taken their places on either side of the commander as part of his recessional escort, that she caught sight of him standing solitary, with bowed head and folded arms.
She made her way to him and stood unspeaking by his side. They were alone, for Elleroth's officers, in accordance with custom, had formed two files behind him as he made his departure.
After a little Zirek said, "She had more courage than anyone I've ever known--except for Occula. She never flinched that night, never hesitated, never showed any fear e: her before or after. I couldn't have done it without her, you know."
"And I couldn't have done what she did: I know that."
"Killing Sencho--that was vital, you see. The Leopards' whole intelligence system fell to pieces. I wonder whether anyone in years to come will remember her name and what she did."
"The gods will remember."
"The gods? You'd wonder sometimes, wouldn't you? She's forfeited everything; and who--what--drove her to that but the gods?"
"You know, Zirek, somehow I feel Meris would have undone herself one way or another, even if she'd been given a fortune."
"Maybe; but there she is now. Forty-two meld and a bonfire. Not even a tarpli --not from these strangers."
"I never thought of the tarpli," said Maia. "Do they have them in Belishba same as we do in Tonilda?"
"Of course."
The tarpli, though not universal throughout the Beklan empire, was a tribute of obsequy rendered throughout Tonilda and certain other provinces. A poem or verse mourning the dead person and recalling his or her life and character would be composed by some relative or friend and sung or declaimed as the pyre burned low. Often, among simple people in the country villages, it would be rough doggerel enough, but nevertheless might well have taken the maker a deal of trouble and be offered with sincere feeling. Maia had composed one in her own mind for Tharrin, though only Lespa had been permitted to hear it.
"I made one up for her," said Zirek, "but no one said anything about a tarpli and I didn't care to put myself forward among these officers with their fine ways."
She took him by the hand and led him up to the edge of the pyre, until the heat forced them to a halt.
"Now sing it."
He hesitated. "It's not like a real tarpli--not like they generally are. But--I don't know--some god put it into my mind."
"Then he must have done it for Meris. Give it to her, go on. I'm stood here: I won't let anyone stop you."
Zirek, raising his arms as in prayer, began to sing. His voice was true and sure and after the first line or two rang out with a confidence which carried its own authority. Be-fore the close many of the dispersing onlookers had turned back to listen and he, perceiving this, repeated his thren-ody from the beginning.
"The swift, black river withers in its banks,
Buried in gaunt trees, blind to the sun.
Only a deep chattering of stones Tells where the cold fingers of current run.
And faint ghosts of bones that lie in the wood
Flicker and cackle together among the branches.
Two green eyes move silently to drink,
Crouching on huge, imagined haunches.
A noise of running, and startled birds fly up
In the distance. What was that, that suddenly cried?
Footsteps . . . Only the river pouring down.
And the dumb, warlock forest stretched beside.
Now I remember how, in that still town,
They told of a girl wandering till she died."
In the succeeding silence, Maia stood for some moments as unstirring as though it had indeed been a god who had devised the words. Then, turning to Zirek, she flung her arms round his neck, clinging to him and weeping. This strange, oblique lament had pierced her as no conventional elegy for Meris could have done. He stood quietly, suffering her thus to reciprocate what he had offered. The people went away once more and they werejeft alone.
At length, looking up, she saw Anda-Nokomis beside them. He took Zirek's hand in his own.
"The tarpli, was it?"
"Yes, sir."
"That's well done. I'm to blame: I overlooked it. But you didn't, so all's as it should be."
He waited without impatience while Maia recovered herself and dried her eyes. Then he said, "Elleroth wants to see the four of us. There's no hurry; whenever you're ready."
"I'm ready, Anda-Nokomis," said Maia.
95: DESTINATIONS
Elleroth, having nodded to the servant to leave them, looked up at his four guests.
"The dead are at peace," he said. "We have to believe that." No one spoke and he went on, "I can't imagine the gods being very hard on that poor girl, can you? It's been a miserable business; I hope that at least you're able to feel that everything's been done decently and properly."
"Yes," replied Bayub-Otal. "We're all well satisfied as far as that goes. It was most good of you, with so much else on your hands."
"No, we're the people who feel under an obligation," said Elleroth, "and as far as we're concerned it's not discharged yet. I need to know what you want to do now, so that we can help you to do it. But before we come to that, may I ask you, Serrelinda, to do me the honor of accepting this little keepsake on behalf of me and my men?"
It was his own neck-chain, with the silver corn-sheaves emblem.
Maia's lips trembled. Yet as one might have expected, the Serrelinda, who had been presented to King Karnat dressed in golden lilies and given a tress of her own hair to Durakkon in the Caravan Market, was equal to this moment also. Having returned the Sarkid commander's smiling gaze for a moment, she bowed her head in a silent gesture of recognition and gratitude as demure as any vir-gin acolyte of the Thlela. As she did so he bent forward, placed the chain round her neck and centered the emblem at her bosom.
"He knew neither his father nor his mother,"
murmured Elleroth.
"Among strangers he labored as a slave,
An exile in a country not his own,
The Lord Deparioth, God's appointed sword."
This was part of the traditional lament for the hero Deparioth, known as "The Tears of Sarkid." Maia could only guess that Anda-Nokomis must have told him her story.
She raised her head. "Thank you, my lord." Running her fingers down the chain, she closed her hand on the corn-sheaves emblem. "It's just over my heart: I reckon that's the right place for it, don't you?"
They all laughed delightedly, and as she sat down Zirek stooped and kissed her shoulder.
"Well," said Elleroth briskly, "as I've said, you shall have every help from us. U-Zirek, let's take you first, shall we; for I rather think there's not much doubt about you, is there? You'd like a safe-conduct to Santil, wouldn't you?"
"Thank you very much, my lord," replied Zirek. "Y
es, that would take care of everything as far as I'm concerned."
"It's not thirty miles to my father's estate in Sarkid," said Elleroth. "You've only to get there in one piece to be treated to all you deserve--he'll be more than delighted when he learns who you are--and from there you should easily be able to reach Santil in two days."
"Well, I'll make so bold as to tell your father, my lord, what I think of his son."
"I fear that he may tell you," said Elleroth, "what he thinks of an heir who goes off freebooting with Santil without asking either consent or blessing--which he knew he wouldn't get, of course. But that won't affect my father's hospitality, I can assure you. Give him my dutiful greetings and tell him to expect me back when Bekla's fallen. And now, Lord Anda-Nokomis, what are your plans?"
"The Ban of Suba," he replied, "has a duty to get back there as quickly as he can."
"That's what I thought you'd say, and I can only applaud. However, has it occurred to you that under present conditions, the most feasible route may unavoidably be circuitous--not to say ambagious, periphrastic and an-fractuous? In a word, have you considered going back to Suba via Bekla? We'd be only too delighted for you to join us."
"I'm honored, Elleroth, and thank you. My own people will follow a one-handed man because they owe allegiance to his legendary mother's son, but I don't think I could reasonably expect the same of your men."
"Anda-Nokomis, I could do with a really knowledgeable, competent chief of staff. Can't I tempt you?"
"I'm sorry, Elleroth, to disappoint you, but I've thought about this very carefully, and I'm certain that my best chance of getting back to Suba is to make for Nybril and try to come by a boat."
Elleroth nodded. "You're right, I dare say. An epitaph, on my behalf--no chief of staff. So be it. But Captain Zen-Kurel, surely I can tempt you, can't I? We really do stand in need of another experienced, able company commander. Since Chalcon we've lost two or three senior officers we could very ill spare. Won't you come with us and help to cut Kembri to pieces?"