'Thank you.'

The governor bowed and went away through the trees. Elleroth stood still, watching a trout that hung on the edge of the current, motionless save for the flickering of its tail. It darted upstream and he sat down on a stone bench, easing his hand in the sling and shaking his head as though at some thought that preoccupied and distressed him. At length, recalling Tan-Rion, he looked up with a questioning smile.

"Sorry to bother you, sir,' said Tan-Rion briskly. 'Yesterday evening one of our patrols brought in a wandering Ortelgan who kept talking about a message to or from Bekla. This morning we found this on him and 1 1 thought best to come and show it to you at once.' thought best to come and show it to you at once.'

Elleroth took the stag emblem, looked at it, started, frowned and then examined it more closely.

'What does he look like, this man?' he asked at length.

'Like an Ortelgan, my lord,' replied Tan-Rion, 'spare and dark. It's hard to say much more - he's pretty well exhausted - half-starved and worn out. He must have had a very bad time.'

'I will see him immediately,' said Elleroth.

1. The Streets of Kabin At the sight of Elleroth Kelderek's memory, by this time half-restored - like the safety of a swimmer whose limp feet, as he drifts, have already touched bottom here and there; or the consciousness of an awakening sleeper whose hearing has caught but who has not yet recognized for what they are the singing of the birds and the sound of rain - cleared as immediately as the misted surface of a mirror wiped by an impatient hand. The voices of the Yeldashay officers, the starred banner floating on the walls above the garden, the cognizances worn by the soldiers standing about him - all these assumed on the instant a single, appalling meaning. So might an old, sick man, smiling as his son's wife bent over his bed, grasp in a moment the terrible import of her look and of the pillow poised above his face. Kelderek gave a quick, gasping cry, staggered and would have fallen if the soldiers had not caught him under the arms. As they did so he struggled briefly, then recovered himself and stood staring, tense and wide-eyed as a bird held in a man's hand.

'How do you come to be here, Crendrik?' asked Elleroth.

Kelderek made no reply.

'Are you seeking refuge from your own people?'

He shook his head mutely and seemed about to faint.

'Let him sit down,' said Elleroth.

There was no second bench and one of the soldiers ran to bring a stool from the house. As he returned, two or three of the guard off duty followed him and stood peering from among the trees, until their tryzatt ordered them sharply back to the house.

'Crendrik,' said Elleroth, leaning towards him where he sat hunched upon the stool, 'I am asking you again. Are you here as a fugitive from Bekla ?'

'I -I am no fugitive,' replied Kelderek in a low voice. am no fugitive,' replied Kelderek in a low voice.

'We know that there has been a rising in Bekla. You say that that has nothing to do with your coming here, alone and exhausted?'

'I know nothing of it. I left Bekla within an hour of yourself - and by the same gate.'

'You were pursuing me?'

'No.'

Kelderek's face was set The guard commander seemed about to strike him, but Elleroth held up his hand and waited, looking at him intently.

'I was following Lord Shardik. That is my charge from God,' cried Kelderek with sudden violence and looking up for the first time. 'I have followed him from Bekla to the hills of Gelt'

'And then-?'

'I lost him; and later came upon your soldiers.' The sweat was standing on his forehead and his breath came in gasps.

'You thought they were your own?' 'It's no matter what I thought'

Elleroth searched for a moment among a bundle of scrolls and letters lying beside him on the bench. 'Is that your seal ?' he asked, holding out a paper.

Kelderek looked at it. 'Yes.'

'What is this paper?'

Kelderek made no reply.

'I will tell you what it is,' said Elleroth. 'It is a licence issued by yourself in Bekla to a man called Nigon, authorizing him to enter Lapan and take up a quota of children as slaves. I have several similar papers here.'

The hatred and contempt of the men standing near by was like the oppression of snow unfallen from a winter sky. Kelderek, hunched upon the stool, was shaking as though with bitter cold. The scent of the planella came and went evanescent as the squeaking of bats at twilight.

'Well,' said Elleroth briskly, getting up from the bench, 'I have recovered this trinket, Crendrik, and you have nothing to tell us, it seems; so I can resume my work and you had better return to your business of seeking the bear.'

Tan-Rion drew in his breath sharply. The young Yeldashay officer started forward.

'My lord-'Again Elleroth raised his hand.

*I have my reasons, Dethrin. Surely if anyone has the right to spare this man, it is I?'

'But, my lord,' protested Tan-Rion, 'this evil man - the priest-king of Shardik himself - Providence has delivered him into our hands - the people -'

'You may take my word for it that neither he nor the bear can harm us now. And if it is merely a matter of retribution that is troubling you, perhaps you will persuade the people to forgo it, as a favour to me. I have certain information which leads me to conclude that we should spare this man's life.'

His mild words were spoken with a firm directness which plainly admitted of no further argument. His officers were silent.

'You will go eastward, Crendrik,' said Elleroth. 'That will suit us both, since not only is it in the opposite direction from Bekla, but also happens to be the direction your bear has taken.'

From the square outside could now be heard a growing hubbub - murmuring, broken by angry shouts, raucous, inarticulate cries and the sharper voices of soldiers trying to control a crowd.

'We will give you food and fresh shoes,' said Elleroth, 'and that is as much as I can do for you. I can see well enough that you are in poor shape, but if you stay here you will be torn to pieces. You will not have forgotten that Mollo came from Kabin. Now understand this plainly. If ever again you allow yourself to fall into the hands of this army, you will be put to death. I repeat, you will be put to death. I should not be able to save you again.' He turned to the guard commander. 'See that he has an escort as far as the ford of the Vrako, and tell the crier to give out that it is my personal wish that no one should touch him.'

He nodded to the soldiers, who once more grasped Kelderek by the arms. They had already begun to lead him away when suddenly he wrenched himself about.

'Where is Lord Shardik?' he cried. 'What did you mean - he cannot harm you now?'

One of the soldiers jerked back his head by the hair, but Elleroth, motioning them to let him go, faced him once more.

'We have not hurt your bear, Crendrik,' he said. 'We had no need.'

Kelderek stared at him, trembling. Elleroth paused a moment. The noise of the crowd now filled the garden and the two soldiers, waiting, looked at one another sidelong.

'Your bear is dying, Crendrik,' said Ellerodi deliberately. 'One of our patrols came upon it in the hills three days ago and followed it eastward until it waded the upper Vrako. They were in no doubt. Other news has reached me also - never mind how - that you and the bear came alive from the Streels of Urtah. Of what befell you at the Streels you know more than I, but that is why your life is spared. I have no part in blood required of God. Now go!'

In the steward's room, one of the soldiers threw back his head and spat in Kelderek's face.

'You dirty bastard,' he said, 'burned his mucking hand off, did you?'

'And now he says we're to let you go,' said the other soldier. 'You damned, rotten Ortelgan slave-trader! Where's his son, eh? You You saw to that, did you? You're the one that told Genshed what he had to do?' saw to that, did you? You're the one that told Genshed what he had to do?'

'Where's his son?' repeated the first soldier, as Kelderek made no reply but stood with bent head, looking down at the floor.

'Didn't you hear me?' Taking Kelderek's chin in his hand, he forced it up and stared contemptuously into his eyes.

'I heard you,' mouthed Kelderek, his words distorted by the soldier's grip,' I don't know what you mean.'

Both the soldiers gave short, derisive laughs.

'Oh, no,' said the second soldier. 'You're not the man who brought back slave-trading to Bekla, I suppose?' Kelderek nodded mutely.

'Oh, you admit that much? And of course you don't know that Lord Elleroth's eldest son disappeared more than a month ago, and that our patrols have been searching for him from Lapan to Kabin? No, you don't know anything, do you?'

He raised his open hand, jeering as Kelderek flinched away.

'I know nothing of that,' replied Kelderek. 'But why do you blame the boy's disappearance on a slave-trader? A river, a wild beast -'

The soldier stared at him for a moment and then, apparently convinced that he really knew no more than he had said, answered 'We know who's got the lad. It's Genshed of Terekenalt.'

'I never heard of him. There's no man of that name licensed to trade in Beklan provinces.'

'You'd make the stars angry,' replied the soldier. 'Everyone's heard of him, the dirty swine. No, like enough he's not licensed in Bekla - even you wouldn't license him, I dare say. But he works for those that are licensed - if you call that work.'

'And you say this man has taken the Ban of Sarkid's heir?'

'Half a month ago, down in eastern Lapan, we captured a trader called Nigon, together with three overseers and forty slaves. I suppose you'll tell us you didn't know Nigon either?'

' No, I remember Nigon.'

'He told General Erketlis that Genshed had got the boy and was making north through Tonilda. Since then patrols have searched up through Tonilda as far as Thettit. If Genshed was ever there he's not there now.'

'But how could you expect me to know this?' cried Kelderek. 'If what you say is true, I don't know why Elleroth spared my life any more than you do.'

'He spared you, maybe,' said the first soldier. spared you, maybe,' said the first soldier. 'He's 'He's a fine gentleman, isn't he? But we're not, you slave-trading bastard. I reckon if anyone knows where Genshed is, it's you. What were you doing in these parts, and how else could he have got clean away?' a fine gentleman, isn't he? But we're not, you slave-trading bastard. I reckon if anyone knows where Genshed is, it's you. What were you doing in these parts, and how else could he have got clean away?'

He picked up a heavy tally-stick lying on the steward's table and laughed as Kelderek flung up his arm.

'Stop that!' rapped the guard commander, appearing in the doorway. 'You heard what One-Hand said. You're to let him alone!'

'If they will will let him alone, sir,' answered the soldier. 'Listen to them!' He pulled a stool to the high window, stood on it and looked out. The noise of the crowd had if anything increased, though no words were distinguishable. 'If they let him alone, sir,' answered the soldier. 'Listen to them!' He pulled a stool to the high window, stood on it and looked out. The noise of the crowd had if anything increased, though no words were distinguishable. 'If they will will let him alone, One-Hand's the only man they'd do it for.' let him alone, One-Hand's the only man they'd do it for.'

Sitting down apart, Kelderek shut his eyes and tried to collect his thoughts. A man may by chance overhear words which he knows to have been spoken with no malice towards himself - perhaps not even with reference to his own affairs - but which nevertheless, if they are true, import his personal misfortune or misery - words, perhaps, of a commercial venture foundered, of an army's defeat, of another man's fall or a woman's loss of honour. Having heard, he stands bewildered, striving by any means to set aside, to find grounds for disbelieving the news, or at least for rejecting the conclusion he has drawn, like an unlucky card, for his own personal fortune. But the very fact that the words did not refer directly to himself serves more than anything else to corroborate what he fears. Despite the desperate antics of his brain, he knows how more than likely it is that they are true. Yet still there is a faint possibility that they may not be. And so he remains, like a chess player who cannot bear to lose, still searching the position for the least chance of escape. So Kelderek sat, turning and turning in his mind the words which Elleroth had spoken. If Shardik were dying - but Shardik could not be dying. If Shardik were dying - if Shardik were dying, what business had he himself left in the world? Why did the sun still shine? What was now the intent of God? Sitting so rapt and still that at length his guards' attention wandered and they ceased to watch him, he contemplated the blank wall as though seeing there the likeness of a greater, incomprehensible void, stretching from pole to pole.

Elleroth's son - his heir - had fallen into the hands of an unlicensed slave-dealer? He himself knew - who better? - how possible it was. He had heard of diese men - had received many complaints of their activities in the remoter parts of the Beklan provinces. He knew that within the Ortelgan domains slaves were captured illegally who never reached the market at Bekla, being driven north through Tonilda and Kabin or west through Paltesh, to be sold in Katria or Terekenalt. Although the prescribed penalties were heavy, as long as the war lasted the probability of an unlicensed dealer's capture was remote. But that this man Genshed, whoever he might be, should have taken the son and heir of the Ban of Sarkid. No doubt he meant to demand a ransom if ever he got him safe to Terekenalt. But for what conceivable reason, with such a grief in his heart and such a wrong to lay to the charge of the hated priest-king of Bekla, had Elleroth insisted on sparing his life? For a while he pondered this riddle but could imagine no answer. His thoughts returned to Shardik, but at last he almost ceased to think at all, drowsing where he sat and hearing, sharper than the noise of the crowd, the plangent drip of water into a butt outside the window.

The guard commander returned and with him a burly, black-bearded officer, armed and helmeted, who stared at Kelderek, slapping his scabbard against his leg with nervous impatience.

'Is this the man?'

The guard commander nodded.

'Come on, then, you, for God's sake, while we've still got them under some sort of control. I want to live, if you don't. Take this pack - shoes and two days' food - that's the Ban's orders. You can put the shoes on later.'

Kelderek followed him down the passage and through the courtyard to the gate-keeper's lodge. Under the arch behind the shut gate some twenty soldiers were drawn up in two files. The officer led Kelderek to a central place between them and then, taking up his own position immediately behind him, gripped him by the shoulder and spoke in his ear.

'Now you do as I say, do you see, or you'll never even have the chance to wish you had. You're going to walk across this blasted town to the east gate, because if you don't, I don't, and that's why you're going to. They're quiet now because they've been told it's the Ban's personal wish, but if anything provokes them, we're as good as dead. They don't like slave-traders and child butchers, you see. Don't say a word, dou't wave your bloody arms, don't do any damned thing; and above all, keep moving, do you understand? Right!' he shouted to the tryzatt in front. 'Get on with it, and God help us!'

The gate opened, the soldiers marched forward and Kelderek stepped at once into dazzling sunlight shining directly into his eyes. Blinded, he stumbled, and instantly the captain's hand was in his armpit, supporting and thrusting him on.

'You stop and I'll run you through.'

Coloured veils floated before his eyes, slowly dissolving and vanishing to disclose the road at his feet. He realized that he was bowed, neck thrust forward, peering down like a beggar on a stick. He straightened his shoulders, threw back his head and looked about him.

The unexpected shock was so great that he stopped dead, raising one hand before his face as though to ward off a blow. 'Keep moving, damn you!'

The square was packed with people - men, women and children, standing on either side of the road, crowded at the windows, clinging to the roofs. Not a voice spoke, not a murmur was to be heard. All were staring at himself in silence, each pair of eyes following only him as the soldiers marched on across the square. Some of the men scowled and shook their fists, but none uttered a word. A young girl, dressed as a widow, stood with folded hands and tears unwiped upon her cheeks, while beside her an old woman shook continually as she craned her neck, her fallen-in mouth working in a palsied twitching. His eyes met for a second the round, solemn stare of a little boy. The people swayed like grass, unaware of their swaying as they moved their heads to keep him in their gaze. The silence was so complete that for a moment he had the illusion that these people were far away, too far to be heard from the lonely place where he walked between the soldiers, the only sound in his ears their regular tread that crunched upon the sand.

They left the square and entered a narrow, stone-paved street, where their footsteps echoed between the walls. Trying with all his will to look nowhere but ahead, he still felt the silence and the gaze of the people like a weapon raised above him. He met the eyes of a woman who threw up her arm, making the sign against evil; and dropped his head once more, like a cowering slave who expects a blow. He realized that he was breathing hard, that his steps had become more rapid than the soldiers', that he was almost running to keep his place among them. He saw himself as he must appear to the crowd - haggard, shrinking, contemptible, hastening before the captain like a beast driven up a lane.

The street led into the market-place and here, too, were the innumerable faces and the terrible silence. Not a woman was haggling, not a trader crying his wares; as they approached the fountain-basin - Kabin was full of fountains - the jet faltered and died away. He wondered who it was that had timed it so surely, and whether he had had orders to do so or had acted of his own accord; then tried to guess how far it might now be to the east gate, what it would look like when they reached it and what orders the captain would give. The cheek of the soldier beside him bore a long, white scar and he thought, 'If my right foot is the next to dislodge a stone, he got it in battle. If my left, then he got it in a fight when he was drunk.'

Not that these thoughts could come for an instant between his horror of the silence and of the eyes which he dared not meet. If it were not some sick fancy of his own fear and anguish, there was in this crowd a mounting tension, like that before the breaking of the rains. 'We must get there,' he muttered. 'At all costs, Lord Shardik, we must get there before the rains break.'

A cloud of flies flew up before his face, disturbed from a piece of offal lying in the road. He thought of the gylon fly, with its transparent body, hovering among the reeds along the Telthearna.' I have become a gylon fly - their eyes pass through me - through and through me - meeting those of others that pass through me from the other side. My bones are turning to water. I shall fall.

He came, he came by night, Silence lay all about us.A sword passed through me, I am changed for ever. I am changed for ever. Senandril na kora, senandril na ro.' Senandril na kora, senandril na ro.'

His thoughts, like a deserted child's, returning to the memory of loss and grief, came back to Elleroth's words in the garden. 'Your bear is dying, Crendrik -'

'Shut up and get on,' said the officer between his clenched teeth.

He did not know that he had spoken aloud. The dust whirled up in a sudden flurry of wind, yet of all the eyes around him not one seemed to close against it. The road was steeper now; they were climbing. He bent forward, dropping his head like an ox drawing a load uphill, looking down at the ground as he dragged himself on. They were leaving the market-place, yet the silence was pulling him backwards, the silence was a spell which held him fast. The weight of the thousands of eyes was a load he could never drag up this hill to the east gate. He faltered and then, stumbling backwards against the captain, turned his head and whispered, 'I can't go on.'

He felt the point of the captain's dagger thrust against his back, just above the waist.

'Ban of Sarkid or no Ban of Sarkid, I'll kill you before my men come to any harm. Get on!'

Suddenly the silence was broken by the cry of a child. The sound was like the flaring of a flame in darkness. The soldiers, who when he stumbled had stopped uncertainly, gathering about him and the captain, started as though at a trumpet and every head jerked round towards the noise. A little girl, perhaps five or six years old, running to cross the road before the soldiers came, had tripped and fallen headlong and now lay crying in the dust, less from pain, perhaps, than from the grim appearance of the soldiers at whose feet she found herself sprawling. A woman stepped out of the crowd, picked her up and bore her away, the sound of her voice, reassuring and comforting the child, carrying plainly back along the lane.

Kelderek raised his head and drew a deep breath into his lungs. The sound had broken the invisible but dreadful web in which, like a fly bound about with sticky thread, he had almost lost the power to struggle. As, when men break open at last a dry trench by the river, in which they have been repairing a canoe, the water comes flooding in, bringing back to the craft its true element and lifting it until it floats, so the sound of the child's voice restored to Kelderek the simple will and determination of common men to endure and survive, come what may. His life had been spared, no matter why; the sooner he was away from this town the better. B: the people hated him, then he had the answer - he would be gone.

Without further words to the captain he took up his pace once more, spurning the soft sand with his heels as he trudged up the hill. The people were pressing close now, the soldiers keeping them off with the shafts of their spears, the captain shouting 'Back! Keep back!' Ignoring them, he turned a corner at the top and at once found himself before the gate tower, the gate standing open, the guard turned out and drawn up on either side to prevent anyone following them out of the town. They tramped under the echoing arch. Without looking round he heard the gate grind and clang to and the bolts shot home.

'Don't stop,' said the captain, close behind him as ever.

Marching down a hill between trees, they came to a rocky ford across a torrent that swept down from the wooded hills on the left. Here the men, without waiting for orders, broke ranks, kneeling to drink or flinging themselves on the grass. The officer once again gripped Kelderek's shoulder and turned him about, so that they stood face to face.

'This is the Vrako - the boundary of Kabin province, as I dare say you know. The east gate of Kabin is shut for an hour by the Ban's orders and I shall be keeping this ford closed for the same length of time. You're to cross by this ford and after that you can go where you please.' He paused. 'One more thing. If the army get orders to patrol east of the Vrako, we shall be looking out for you; and you'll not escape again.'

He nodded to show that he had no more to say, and Kelderek, hearing behind him the growling curses of the soldiers - one threw a stone which struck a rock close by his knee - stumbled his way across the ford and so left them.