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Authors: Richard Adams

Tags: #Classic, #Science Fiction, #Fantasy, #Adventure, #Epic

Shardik (63 page)

BOOK: Shardik
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He heard a step behind him and, turning, saw that his prayer was answered. A few feet away Ruvit stood looking at him, knife in hand. He knelt down, offering his throat and heart and opening his arms as though to a guest.

‘Strike quickly, Ruvit, before I have time to feel afraid!’

Ruvit stared at him a moment in astonishment; then, sheathing his knife, he stepped forward
with
a shifty, lop-sided grin, took
Kelderek
‘s hand and pulled him to his feet.

‘Ay ay, old feller, mustn’t take it that way, ye know. Comes hard to start
with
, eels get used to skinning, know what
they
say, never look back across the Vrako, drive ye crazy. Just on me way to kill a bird. Some wrings their necks, I always cuts
their
heads off.’ He looked over his shoulder towards
the
door behind him and whispered, ‘You know what? That’s a priestess,
that
is. Ever gets back, she’s going to put in a word for me. ‘Thought yesterday she wanted you dead, but she don’t. Ah - put in a word for me, she says. That the truth, think that’s the truth, eh?’

‘It’s the truth,’ answered
Kelderek
. ‘She could get you a pa
rdon in any city from Ikat to De
elguy. It’s for me she can’t.’

‘Got to forget it here, lad, forget it, that’s it. Five year, ten year, call the lice your friends after ten year, ye know.’

He killed
the
bird, plucked and drew it, left the guts lying on the ground and together
they
returned to the hovel.

Two hours later
Kelderek
, having given to Ruvit what was left of the food he had brought from Kabin, set out with the Tuginda along
the
shore of
the
creek.

41
The Legend of the Streels

Still he could not bring himself to speak of the past. At last he said, ‘Where are you going, saiyett?’

She made no immediate answer, but after a
little
asked,

‘Kelderek, are you seeking Lord Shardik?’

‘Yes.’

‘With what purpose?’

He startl
ed, remembering her strange power of discerning more than had been spoken. If she had perceived the intention which he had formed, she would no doubt try to dissuade him,
though
God knew she of all people had
little
reason to wish to prolong his life. Then he realized of what it was that she must be thinking.

‘Lord Shardik will never return to Bekla,’ he said. ‘Th
at’s certain enough - and neithe
r shall I.’

‘Are you not king of Bekla?’

‘No longer.’

They left the creek and began to follow a track leading eastward over the next ridge. The Tuginda climbed slowly and more than once stopped to rest. ‘She has no strength now for this life,’ he thought. ‘Even were there no danger, she ought not to be here.’ He began to wonder how he could persuade her to return to Quiso.

‘Saiyett, why have you come here? Are you also seeking Shardik?’

‘I received news in Quiso that Lord Shardik was gone from
Bekla
and then
that
he had crossed the plain to
the
hills west of Gelt. Naturally I set out in search of him.’

‘But why, saiyett? You should not have undertaken such a journey The hardship-‘

‘You forget, Kelderek.’ Her voice was hard. ‘As Tuginda of Quiso I am bound to follow Lord Shardik while that is possible -that is, while the Power of God is not subjected to the power of men.’

He was silent, full of shame; but later, as she was leading the way downhill, he asked,

‘But your women - the other priestesses - you did not leave Quiso alone?’

‘No, I received news also of the advance north of Santil-ke-
Erketlis
. I had known already that he meant to march in the spring and that he intended to take Kabin. Neelith and three other girls set out for Kabin with me. We planned to seek Lord Shardik from there.’

‘Did you speak with
Erketlis
?’

‘I spoke with Elleroth of Sarkid, who told me how it came about that he escaped from Bekla. He was well-disposed towards me because some time ago I cured his sister’s husband of a poisoned arm. He told me also that Lord Shardik had crossed the Vrako in the foothills north of Kabin, not two days before.’

‘You say Elleroth treated you as a friend - and yet he allowed you to go alone and unescorted across the Vrako?’

‘He does not know that I have crossed the Vrako. Elleroth was friendly to me, but on one thing I could not move him. He would lend me no help to find Lord Shardik or save his life. To him and his soldiers Shardik means nothing but the god of their enemies and of all that they are fighting against.’ She paused and then, with a momentary tremor in her voice, added, ‘He said - the god of the slave-traders.’

Kelderek
had not thought that he could suffer more bitterly.

‘He told me of his son,’ went on the Tuginda, ‘and after that I asked
nothing
more of him. He told me, too, that some of his soldiers had come upon Lord Shardik in the hills and felt sure that he was dying. I asked him why they had not killed him and he replied that
they
had been afraid to attempt it. So I do not myself believe that Lord Shardik is dying.’

At this he was about to speak, but she went on,

‘I had hoped that Elleroth might give me some soldiers to conduct us across
the
Vrako, but when I saw that it was useless to ask, I let him believe that we meant to return to Quiso, for he would certainly have stopped me from crossing the Vrako alone.’

‘But would none of the girls come with you, saiyett?’

‘Do you think that I would bring them into this country - the thieves’ kitchen of the world? They begged to come. I told them to return to Quiso, and since they are bound by oath to obey me, they went. After that I bribed the guards at
the
ford and once across the r
iver I turned north, as y
ou did.’

‘Saiyett, where do you mean to go now?’

‘I believe
that
Shardik is trying to return to his own country. He is making for the Telthearna and will cross it if he can. Therefore I am going to Zeray, to seek help in watching for him along the western shore. Or i
f he has already swum the Telthe
arna, we may learn of it in Zeray.’


Elleroth
, perhaps, was right. Shardik may indeed be dying, for since leaving Bekla he has once more been wickedly and cruelly wounded.’

She stopped, turned and
stared up at him. ‘Did Elleroth
tell you that?’ He shook his head.

She sat down but said no more, only continuing to look at him with eyes full of uncertainty and questioning. Seeking for further words, he burst out,

‘Saiyett, the Streels of Urtah - what is their mystery and their meaning?’

At this she gave a quick, low gasp, as it were of dread and consternation; but then, recovering herself, answered, ‘You had better tell me what you know yourself.’

He told her how he had followed Shardik out of Bekla and of their crossing of the plain. She listened sil
ently
until he came to the adventure at Urtah, but as he spoke of his awakening and of the wounded Shardik climbing from
the
Streel to scatter his attackers, she began to weep bitterly, sobbing aloud, as women mourn for
the
dead. Appalled by this passionate grief in one whom he had hitherto thought of as stretching out her sceptre over all ills besetting the heart of man, he waited with a hopeless, leaden patience, not presuming to intrude upon her sorrow, since he perceived that it flowed from some bitter knowledge which he, too, must presently possess.

At length, becoming calmer, she began to speak; her voice was like that of a woman who, having learned of some terrible bereavement, understands that henceforth her life will be a waiting for death.

‘You asked me,
Kelderek
, about the Stree
ls of Urtah. I will tell you what I know,
though
that
is little enough, for the cult is a close secret inherited by each generation, and such is the fear of it that I never heard of any who dared to pry into those mysteries. But though, thank
God, I have never seen the Stree
ls, a
little
I know -the
little
I have been told because I am the Tuginda of Quiso.

‘How deep
the
Stre
els are no one knows, for none has ever descended into
their
depths and returned. Some say they are the mouths of hell, and that the souls of the wicked enter them by night. They say, too, that only to look d
own and cry aloud into the Stree
ls is sufficient to awaken a torment that will drive a man mad.’

Kelderek, his eyes on her face, nodded.’ It is true.’

‘And how old the cult is no one knows, or what it is
they
worship. But this I can tell you. Always, for hundreds of years, their mystery at Urtah has been the bringing of retribution upon the wicked -those, that is, for whom such retribution has been ordained by God. Many are wicked, as well you know, yet not all
the
wi
cked find their way to the Stree
ls. This - or so I have always understood - is the way of that dreadful business. The evil-doer is one whose crime cries out to heaven, beyond restitution or forgiveness; one whose life, continuing, defiles the very earth. And it is always by some accident
that
he appears to come to Urtah: he is in ignorance of the nature of the place to which his journey has led him. He may be attended or he may be alone, but always he himself believes that it is chance, or some business of his own, which has brought him to Urtah of his own free will. Yet those
who watch there - those who see
him come
- they
recognize him for what he is and know what they have to do.

‘They speak him fair and treat him courteously, for however foul his crime it is none of their duty to hate him, any more than the lightning hates the tree. They
are
but the agents of God. And they will not trick him either. He must be shown the place and asked whether he knows its name. Only when he answers ‘No’ do the
y persuade him towards the Stree
ls. Even then he must-‘

She stopped suddenly and looked up at
Kelderek
.

‘Did you enter the Streel?’

‘No, saiyett As I told you, I -‘

‘I know what you told me. I am asking you -
are
you sure that you did not enter
the
Streel ?’

He stared at her, frowning; then nodded. ‘I am sure, saiyett’

‘He must enter the Streel of his own accord. Once he has done that, nothing can save him. It becomes their task to kill him and cast his body into the depths of the Streel.’

‘Some who have died
there
have been men of rank and power, but all have bee
n guilty of some deed whose vile
ness and cruelty prey upon
the
very minds of those who hear it You will have heard of Hypsas, for he came from Ortelga.’

Kelderek
closed his eyes, beating one hand upon his knee.

‘I remember. Would to God I did not’

‘Did yo
u know that he died in the Stree
ls? He intended to escape to Bekla or perhaps to Paltesh, but it was to Urtah that he came.’ ‘I didn’t know. They say only that he vanished.’

‘ Very few know what I have told you - priests and rulers for the most part. There was King Manvarizon of Terekenalt, he that was grandfather of King Karnat
the
Tall. He burned alive his dead brother’s wife, together
with
her little son, his nephew, the rightful king, whose life and throne he had sworn to defend. Five years later, being on the plain of
Bekla
at the head of his army, he came to Urtah with a few followers, his purpose, so he thought, being to spy out that land for himself. He ran screaming into the Streel, flying from none but a little herd-boy who was driving sheep - or perhaps from some other
little
boy that no one else could see. They saw him draw his sword, but he flung it to the ground as he ran, and
there
no doubt it lies to this
day, for no possession of a victi
m is ever taken, buried or destroyed.’

BOOK: Shardik
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