The Days of the Deer (16 page)

At night they could see points of light which made them think their pursuers could not be far behind, and were just waiting to lay hands on them. But the days went by, and nothing happened.

‘We are coming to the end of this sad land,’ said Cucub.

The constant difficulties they had to face simply in order to survive and make their slow progress northwards meant they forgot the ultimate reason for their journey. Urgent matters kept all
thought of this at bay, until the Zitzahay’s words suddenly brought it sweeping back. A pitcher of water spilt on the sand suddenly made them think of who they were and what they were doing
in the desert. They were being pursued, and had to get to the House of the Stars. They were two people who would never have met had it not been for the fact that an ancient prophecy was about to be
fulfilled.
The ships will come back across the Yentru Sea. Either we or Misáianes’ army will be on board. This will mean the survival or the end for all that
lives on this
earth.
That ancient pronouncement of the Northmen, forgotten by all but a few, was leading them to a shared destiny.

The eagle reappeared early the next morning. It came from the sea, and as soon as it spied the two men began to fly backwards and forwards above them, telling them they should also head for the
coast. Cucub and Dulkancellin hesitated: they could see the end of the desert in front of them. There was no sign of the Pastors: no shadows or campfires. But the eagle flew so insistently over
their heads that in the end they followed her. Every step they took that was not towards the north seemed doubly tiring. Even Cucub went along protesting about his winged friend’s puzzling
ways. Yet, as had so often happened in the past, he soon had to bite his tongue: they got to the top of one of the many sandhills, and suddenly there was Kupuka. Possibly it was the brightness of
his clothes’ colours in the midst of the dull brown of the desert that made him seem like a miraculous mirage. They closed their eyes; opened them again. The Earth Wizard was still there,
beckoning to them.

When they drew close, they could see how weary he looked. Kupuka had come from far away, from long voyages and hard tasks. It was plain it had been a great effort for him to come and meet them.
In all this strange solitude, Kupuka was a true friend, and they greeted him as such.

‘How did you manage to get here?’ asked Dulkancellin.

‘There is always a way.’

The Wizard smiled down at his wet feet, and the two men remembered the fish-women. But they never found out if they were right, because Kupuka changed the subject at once.

‘The eagle knows things and has told me them. What do you two have to say to me?’

A lot. So much had happened, from Kume and the feather to their escape from the Pastors’ camp. The three men sat in the shade of a rocky crag, that shrank as the sun rose in the sky. Since
there was so much to tell, Cucub related most of it, Dulkancellin rather less. As they spoke, they handed round a wineskin that Kupuka had brought, filled with a health-giving water that was
bittersweet at first, and left a taste of salt in the mouth. The further they got with their story, the darker the Earth Wizard’s face grew: he became lost in thought. He listened to
everything they had to say, and since it was a long tale, the three men eventually ended up huddled against the rock to take advantage of the last of the shade.

Kupuka began to draw in the sand. Cucub and Dulkancellin saw him grow more agitated with each line he traced. Then he rubbed the drawing out and began all over again, slightly changing the
position of the figures. Kupuka drew big and small circles, stars, triangles, spirals that joined with wavy or broken lines. He walked around, taking a few steps away and then coming back to draw
more shapes with anxious fingers. He was muttering snatches of words, and answering his own unfinished questions. It was all the more surprising to see him in such a frenzy because the sun was
beating down so fiercely it was all the others could do to breathe. When the Earth Wizard began to dance around his drawings, the two men realized these were random thoughts he had set down, and
that now Kupuka was in a world of visions that would help him organize them wisely. Sweating profusely, Kupuka returned to his work, rubbed it out determinedly once more. His next attempt was very
different. His hand knew what it was doing: when it drew a shape, the Earth Wizard left it. He came to a halt, observing the result of his trance, raining drops of his own sweat on the predictions
he had traced. His eyes closed, and he fell fast asleep on the sand.

‘Who knows how long he will sleep,’ said Cucub, wondering how they could protect him from the sun. ‘Perhaps between the two of us we could lift him onto a llamel, then lead him
to that patch of vegetation over there. There’s not much of it, and it doesn’t offer much shade, but it might bring us some relief.’

Dulkancellin brought one of the llamels over. But before they could start to lift him, Kupuka woke up as full of energy as if he had slept a whole day beneath a fragrant bush. He got nimbly to
his feet, then even more agilely climbed on to the llamel.

‘Climb up behind me, Cucub. We’ll go over to that patch of vegetation: there’s not much of it, and it doesn’t offer much shade, but it might bring us some
relief.’

‘Do all Earth Wizards have your strange way of sleeping?’ asked Cucub.

‘Do all Zitzahay have your strange way of talking?’ Kupuka replied.

Dulkancellin smiled with satisfaction, glad that Cucub had met his match.

As soon as they had reached the vegetation and dismounted, Kupuka called them to him. His face had darkened once again. He spoke quickly and in a low voice, as if afraid someone might be
listening in that vast emptiness.

‘What you have told me, together with all the things that have been happening, plus the further news I have received: all this has come together in my mind. Today, I have realized what it
all means. In its ancient wisdom, the earth has clearly revealed to me what I must do. I am leaving now. You are to follow your path, and do as you have been commanded. As long as I still have the
strength, I will fulfil my part.’

‘Again you are leaving us without any explanation,’ said the warrior.

‘Any explanation from me at this time would be nothing more than stones in your sandals.’

The first sign of what was about to happen was a sudden darkening of the sky, as if a passing cloud had appeared overhead, although everywhere still seemed clear. Kupuka, Cucub and Dulkancellin
stood waiting. They knew this was only the start of something far greater . . . and that something soon occurred.

Surrounded by a ring of darkness, the sun shrank until it was nothing more than a whitish hole helpless against the dark. A wan sunset quickly replaced the bright midday.

The llamels began to trot up and down aimlessly. Every so often they kicked out or rubbed their heads in the sand, as if oppressed by their own weight. They raised their muzzles to the sky as
though they wished to become birds, light and airy enough to escape from the earth.

In the midst of this sombre twilight they heard a crying sound. It was not carried by the wind; it did not seem to come from any particular place. It neither grew nor died away. It was hoarse,
and so ancient and weary that the blood of the Wizard and the two men ran cold. As if they were hearing the cry of the earth.

While they stood there, as caught up in the enchantment as the llamels, an inexplicable shadow appeared in the distance. At first, all they could see was a growing, indistinct cloud on the
ground, as if a dark cloak were being spread over the sand. It was coming from the south, and heading towards them at great speed. When it was close enough for them to distinguish the dark stain
more clearly, it no longer looked like a shadow, but revealed its true nature: it was made up of hundreds, hundreds upon hundreds, of flying creatures. Cucub wanted to run away, but Kupuka took him
by the arm and prevented him doing so. It would have been impossible anyway: the creatures would engulf them, if that were what they wanted.

‘Stay still, Cucub,’ said the Earth Wizard, ‘this is nothing to do with us.’

Kupuka knew that such a huge exodus must be connected to something far more important than three men and two llamels. He pulled the terrified Zitzahay towards him, burying his face against his
chest. The swarm came ever closer, a mass of hairy claws, writhing tentacles, leathery hides and slimy skins, knots of spiders, lizards crawling over mounds of shells. Whatever the Wizard said,
Cucub felt sure he would die from their fetid poison. Kupuka watched the vast cloud of vermin approach, muttering a spell over and over again.

The Earth Wizard was right, however: the swarm of creatures passed close by them without deviating from its path. Something far more powerful was drawing them irresistibly to the north.

As they disappeared into the distance, the creatures once again resembled first of all a cloak, then a shadow, and finally a black line that gradually faded from view. It was only now that the
howling stopped, and the all-powerful sun returned to the midday sky.

Cucub was the first to speak; ashamed of the way he had reacted, he tried to apologize.

‘I think I need to go to the sea. I must bathe myself,’ he stammered, pointing down at his soaking clothes.

‘You can do that later,’ Kupuka replied. Then he added: ‘Don’t feel ashamed. Think what would happen to Dulkancellin if he had a flute instead of a weapon, and one of
your best audiences instead of his worst enemies.’

Wise words indeed! The Zitzahay felt he had never heard anything more true in his whole life, and breathed a sigh of relief. Dulkancellin preferred not to say anything.

‘What we have just witnessed,’ said Kupuka, changing the direction of his thoughts, ‘was the confirmation that the visions I saw were correct. Today is the day that the
strangers have set sail. From now on, every moment will bring them closer to us.’

The Earth Wizard was anxious to be gone, and did not hide the fact.

‘Come on, come on! We have to leave: you towards the north, me to the south.’ He was searching in his pack as he spoke. ‘I am afraid to tell you I will be taking with me
something that has been very useful to you. The eagle will be coming back with me. There is something I have to give her to do, because she will accomplish it far better than I can. That is, if
there is still— No matter! She is no use to you any more. Nor am I ...’ He finally found what he had been looking for. ‘Instead, I am leaving you this deer sinew. Take it,
Dulkancellin! If you find a suitable branch, you can make a bow again. And you, Cucub, can keep the wineskin. One sip of that concoction restores as much as many drinks of water.’

Dulkancellin and Cucub knew it was no use asking the Wizard how he was going to travel. The three of them walked towards where the llamels were grazing. The beasts had recovered their usual calm
and were dozing standing up. By the time they were properly awake, their riders had mounted and were ready to set off.

‘I do not think the Pastors will appear,’ said Kupuka. ‘But if they do, head quickly to the north-east until you come to some wide salt flats. Do not try to cross them on the
llamels; leave the animals behind and continue on foot. You can be sure that the Pastors will stop at the edge of the salt. Their llamels cannot walk across it because their hooves crack so badly
they cannot go on.’

‘Why would the Pastors not simply leave their llamels too?’

‘No, Cucub,’ the Earth Wizard interrupted him. ‘The Pastors would never go on without their animals. Not so far from their camp. It does not seem as if they want to catch you
anyway, otherwise they would have done so by now.’

‘If we have to travel across the salt flats we will reach the sea a long way from where the Zitzahay landed,’ said Dulkancellin. ‘What will happen then?’

‘It does not matter where you appear on the coast. Just as they did with the Zitzahay, the fish-women will bring you a boat to take you across Lalafke sea.’

‘And when we reach the far shore everything will be easy and enjoyable!’ exclaimed Cucub. ‘We will be in my Remote Realm.’

‘Don’t be so sure,’ said Kupuka, patting him on the back. ‘Everything is changing in our lands. Even our own houses are strange to us now.’

Their conversation was over. Dulkancellin did not want to say goodbye again, and so was the first to turn away.

‘Wait a moment!’ Cucub stopped him. ‘Remember we need to go towards the sea.’

‘I remember that you need to go to the sea,’ the warrior corrected him.

Kupuka was left on his own, watching them ride off. If they continued to the west, as they seemed to be directing their mounts, they would soon come to the waters of the Lalafke. The Earth
Wizard shielded his eyes to see them better. How slight Cucub looked compared with the Husihuilke warrior! And how exaggerated his movements appeared!

‘Listen, Dulkancellin,’ Cucub was saying, arms whirling. ‘Think about why it is that I have to go to the sea. I mean, put yourself in my place. Or better still, see it as
Kupuka saw it, and convinced me of the same ... think about it . . . that’s all I’m saying.’

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