The Days of the Deer (24 page)

‘Stranger, we cannot return your greetings or call you brother until we know your name, where your ships are from, and the intentions of you and your companions.’

‘My name is Drimus,’ replied the rider. ‘I come with my companions in the name of the leaders of the Ancient Lands. We have crossed the Yentru Sea to fulfil a promise made many
years ago by my ancestors to yours.’

‘You will have to repeat and prove all you have just said to the Supreme Astronomers and others. We will simply lead you to the House of the Stars.’

‘This cold welcome does not offend me,’ replied Drimus. ‘It is what we were expecting. We are aware of the great concerns that have led you to take such precautions. We also
know that as soon as you gain knowledge of our true intentions, your hardships will be at an end. But ... everything in due course. For now, take us to the House of the Stars.’

‘Not now,’ replied the Zitzahay spokesman, still courteous but distant. ‘It will soon be nightfall. The journey to the House of the Stars is not so short that it can be
completed before dark. For now, you and your companions must return to your ships and not leave them until dawn. We will make sure there is abundant food for you all. Tomorrow at first light we
will lead you and two others of your choosing before the Supreme Astronomers.’

‘Brother twice over, I gladly accept your conditions: we would have had the same suspicions,’ said the Doctrinator, enjoying the game. ‘Even so, I would like to make two
requests. First, that in addition to my two companions, I may be allowed to bring with me the many gifts that we have brought for the Supreme Astronomers. And secondly, let us leave the food for
when we are all seated round our hosts’ table. Prisoners lose their appetite.’

Raising his hand in a further gesture of greeting, Drimus turned his mount and returned to the jetty at a quicker pace.

That night the Zitzahay lit fires all along the coast, protecting them with a covering of branches and green leaves. For their own protection they built shelters with waxed cloths for roofs.

Dulkancellin and Molitzmós met to decide on what they should do the next day. They did not talk for long: Dulkancellin and his small band of men would watch the strangers on their way to
the House of the Stars. Molitzmós’s warriors would stay on the coast, keeping the fleet under surveillance.

The night was a long one for all those who could not sleep, and who alternately peered at the ships, then at the sky, then back again from sky to ships, fearful that something might happen at
any moment. Yet nothing disturbed the calm. At last a misty dawn rose over the sea. The journey was meant to start at first light, but this had to be put back because of the mist.

Half a day’s march from the coast, in the House of the Stars, Cucub was staring at the rain. When Zabralkán announced that the ships had arrived, Elek and Nakín were
overjoyed. They ran after the Supreme Astronomer, anxious to hear the details. Cucub preferred to stay where he was, humming the song that Elek had not reached the end of. From that moment on,
nobody saw him either eat or sleep. Nor did anyone hear him say a word. Watching the rain, Cucub cast off his sadness and left his fears for some other day, when the rain was over. And perhaps, who
knows, that day would never come ...

Cucub was so absorbed in his own thoughts that it took him some time to realize that the voice was talking to him. And still longer to understand what it was saying: that he should wake up? That
he should hurry up? That Zabralkán wanted to see him at once in the observatory? Poor Cucub could not understand what they wanted him for.

As he followed the escort, his mind cleared, and by the final steps up the interminable stairway leading to the observatory, he had begun to ask himself what the reason might be for his being
summoned in this way. On one step, he imagined one thing. On the next, something different. On the next, he was hoping they were going to ask him about the cane-sugar honey! Although he imagined
many things, Cucub came nowhere near to guessing what finally awaited him in the observatory.

He saw her as soon as he crossed the threshold and his eyes grew accustomed to the strange light inside. He saw her and recognized her immediately, even though she bore little resemblance to the
bird who had been his trusty companion during his long journey through the desert. She lay trembling against one of the walls, and looked exhausted and weak.

‘Poor friend!’ Cucub murmured, moving towards the eagle.

‘You can look after her later,’ said Zabralkán, intercepting him. He was holding something in his outstretched palm, and asked: ‘Have you ever seen this
before?’

‘Of course!’ said Cucub. ‘And not long ago. It is the White Stone. Do you remember? The one the old luku showed Dulkancellin and me in the forest at the Ends of the
Earth.’

‘Are you completely certain?’ asked Bor, not taking his eyes from the window that looked out over the main causeway of Beleram.

‘I am, yes I am,’ replied Cucub. ‘No one could mistake a stone like that. Even though the stain deep inside it has grown a lot since that day.’

Zabralkán clutched the stone as if afraid it might disappear.

‘The eagle brought it in her beak,’ said the Supreme Astronomer. ‘And it is plain to see that it cost her a great effort.’

‘Poor thing, my beautiful friend,’ Cucub said. The eagle, which had not taken her eyes off him, ruffled her feathers. ‘I suppose she must have had to search long and hard among
the bodies of the dead lukus to find it, hidden as the stone was beneath the beard of a creature that had lost all its features and even its fesh.’

‘But why would she do such a thing? Who could have told her to do so?’ Zabralkán wondered.

‘Wait a moment!’

Cucub’s response was so emphatic that Bor left the window and came to join the other two.

‘Now that I remember,’ said Cucub, ‘the Earth Wizard said something about this. It was in the desert, before he left Dulkancellin and me and headed south. He said something
like: “I am afraid to tell you I am taking something with me that has been very useful to you. The eagle will be coming back with me, because she has to do something for me that she can
accomplish far better than I can.”’

Cucub’s suppositions were not far from the truth. In his return journey to the Ends of the Earth, Kupuka had summoned the eagle and ordered her to search for the White Stone among the
massacred lukus. ‘As soon as you find it, take it to the House of the Stars. Fly without stopping, and leave it in the hands of the greatest of the Astronomers. You must do this quickly,
sister eagle. There is no time to lose.’ The eagle heard him, and obeyed so readily she risked her life doing so. Day after day, night after night, she used her eyes and beak in the ghastly
task of trying to find a tiny stone in that mound of bones, hair and putrefaction. The sand carried by the wind, and the other birds still feeding off the bodies of the lukus, made her search even
more difficult. Yet none of this could stop her. She searched and searched without resting, unable to eat anything except for the same rotten flesh she was busily sifting through. When she was
about to give up, thinking that another bird must have swallowed it, her beak struck the White Stone, hidden among what was left of a flowing white beard. After that, she raced through the skies to
the hands of Zabralkán. An exhausting race during which the eagle never thought of sparing herself. Now she lay close to death in a corner of the Supreme Astronomers’ observatory.
Kupuka would be proud of her!

‘Thank you, Cucub,’ said Zabralkán. ‘Now please leave us.’

‘Very well!’ said Cucub. ‘But allow me to take the eagle with me. She has saved my life more than once, and I will do my best to save hers.’

‘If you are going to take her, do it at once,’ insisted Bor.

Cucub went over to his friend. He had great difficulty lifting her and carrying her towards the door. Zabralkán was quick to open it for him.

‘Good luck, Cucub.’

Bor and Zabralkán were opposed in mind and body.

‘The strangers must not enter here,’ said Zabralkán. ‘We must avoid their coming into our House. For the present at least, until our brother representatives have heard
this news.’

‘There is nothing new,’ retorted Bor. ‘There is a stone, whose existence we already knew of. A stone of uncertain origin which cannot of itself tell us what the stars of the
sky have not already revealed.’

‘A stone which mobilized the luku people, which cast a shadow over Dulkancellin, and made Kupuka do things he was not prepared for.’

‘The lukus... Dulkancellin... Kupuka...’ Bor repeated. ‘It seems as though the Creatures of the south have a great influence in the House of the Stars.’

‘What do you mean by that?’

Zabralkán knew the answer, but he wanted Bor to hear himself.

‘What is your meaning?’ he repeated.

‘My meaning is to remember our roots are in the Magic of the Ancient Lands, and not in some ignorant people of the southern isles. My meaning is that we should not forget we are the sons
of the Great Wisdom of the north.’

‘Our hope is that we are sons of the Great Wisdom of the world,’ Zabralkán interrupted him. And without giving Bor any chance to speak, he added: ‘The strangers will not
enter the House of the Stars today. We will not discuss that decision now. We will do so tomorrow. And with all the other representatives. We will discuss all that is necessary. It is possible
that, like you, they will disapprove of this decision, which may be the fruit of a misapprehension or deceit. Until such time, we will do all we can to prevent the strangers leaving any mark on our
earth.’

‘If that is the case, we must act immediately,’ said Bor. ‘The strangers are drawing near.’

The two Astronomers fell silent in order to listen. On the wind they could hear the sounds of celebration and astonishment that accompanied the arrival of the three strangers in the city.

There was no time to lose. Zabralkán left the observatory and set about the complicated descent to the main gate. He took short, rapid steps, completely forgetting the decorum usually
shown by the Supreme Astronomer of the House of the Stars. He quickly left behind the highest staircases and long passageways. Apprentices and servants could not believe their eyes:
Zabralkán raced through the rooms, appearing and disappearing at each twist and turn of the stairways, going down and down. Not at the usual slow pace of an old man and Astronomer, but with
an urgency unsuited to his rank. Behind him came Bor, shouting orders to right and left in order to gather the retinue that always accompanied the Supreme Astronomers when they left their
House.

Zabralkán was willing to rush out onto the platform in front of the building like any other human being. The guards at the main gate were taken by surprise by the group led by the old
man. Their appearance was so sudden the guards barely had time to push open the heavy carved stone doors. Zabralkán was the first to emerge, followed by Bor, looking like thunder; and
finally their escort, who had not yet managed to form proper lines. All of them reached the centre of the platform, then came to a halt. This gave the escort a chance to line up properly.
Bor’s face relaxed, and Zabralkán was a majestic old man once more.

The Supreme Astronomers stood waiting, their attention fixed on the confused clamour they could hear approaching along the paved main avenue. The strangers were there, at the gates of the House
of the Stars, after having crossed the whole of Beleram.

Beleram, the capital of the Remote Realm. The city that their Magic had ordered to be built, the only sacred city, the one of which no one could dream, the one conserving the most ancient holy
books, the one that observed the sky from its highest towers ...

The entire population had come out to celebrate the arrival of the visitors. But as they drew near to the House of the Stars, the sounds were no longer those of celebration or open amazement.
Instead, the crowd muttered darkly as the procession advanced.

At its head were the lesser Astronomers chosen to go to the coast to receive the strangers. Each of them was in a covered litter carried by four servants. Behind them came their assistants. A
little further off were the strangers. Some in the crowd narrowed their eyes as if seeking to penetrate as far as the bones of the men dressed in black. Others were shouting, trying to name the
strange beasts the strangers rode, which none of them had ever seen before. ‘Animal with mane,’ said someone. The name spread from mouth to mouth, until everyone was calling them that,
and making them their own. Two of these animals, which instead of having men on their backs were covered by richly embroidered cloths, were being led by a Zitzahay. Dulkancellin’s men had
taken up their positions on either side and at the rear of the procession.

The procession came to a halt outside the House of the Stars. On their litters, the lesser Astronomers were astonished to see Zabralkán and Bor waiting at the centre of the platform. That
was not what had been agreed, nor did it seem prudent. They quickly ordered their servants to set the litters down. If the Supreme Astronomers were standing, they could not remain seated, and much
less look down on them. The servants carefully lifted the litters from their shoulders and gently placed them on the ground. Dulkancellin at once ordered the strangers to dismount.

Drimus understood that something untoward was preventing him gaining access to the House of the Stars. He deduced this from Zabralkán’s gestures and from the way the lesser
Astronomers turned to look at him. When the Supreme Astronomers sent for the Husihuilke warrior chief, Drimus realized that his mission might be under threat.

Among all of Misáianes’ subjects, Drimus was the chosen one. Misáianes had chosen him to leave the first mark of the Sideresians in the House of the Stars. When that
happened, the most important part would be accomplished! By the time Leogrós arrived, waging his campaign of slaughter from the north, he would find Magic’s sacred place corrupted and
sick. It would only take their dogs’ fetid breath to dissolve its stone walls. Better than anyone, Drimus was the person who could confound the Astronomers, because he understood
Misáianes’ aims far beyond annihilation and slaughter. And because like them he spoke the languages of Wisdom. Drimus, glorious son of the Magic of the Ancient Lands, disdained all
ambition for riches or the power of arms. The Doctrinator dreamt of an eternity that few could comprehend.