They have no homes, no past, no future, no hope, no honour and no money. We are rich in shame and in nothing else. I once sold my body for three eggs and a glass of wine. It should have been two eggs, but I drove a hard bargain. I have known a man murdered for one silver piece, which proved worthless to the murderer because it could be neither eaten, worn nor used as a weapon. There is no market in Zeray, no priest, no baker and no shoemaker. Men catch crows alive and breed them for food. When I came, trade did not exist. Even now it is only a trickle, as I will tell you. The sound of a scream at night goes unremarked and the possessions a man has he carries with him and never puts down.'

'But this house? You have food and wine; and the Tuginda, thank God, is in a comfortable bed.'

'The doors and windows are strongly barred - have you noticed? But yes, you are right. Here, we have a little comfort: for how long is another matter, as you will see when I have done my tale.'

She poured more hot water into Kelderek's foot-bowl, sipped her wine and was silent for a little, bending towards the fire and stretching her beautiful arms and body this way and that, as though bathing herself in its warmth and light At length she continued.

'They say women delight to be desired, and so perhaps they do - some, and somewhere else. I have stood screaming with fear while two men I hated fought each other with knives to decide which of them should force himself upon me. I have been dragged out of a burning hut at night by the man who had killed my bed-mate in his sleep. In less than three months I belonged to five men, two of whom were murdered, while a third left Zeray after trying to stab me. Like all those who leave, he went not because he wished to reach somewhere else, but because he was afraid to remain.

'I am not boasting, Kelderek, believe me. These were not matters to boast of. My life was a nightmare. There was no refuge at all - nowhere to hide. There were not forty women in Zeray all told - hags, drabs, girls living in terror because they knew too much about some vile crime. And I came to it a virgin priestess of Quiso, not twenty-one years old.' She paused a moment and then said, 'In the old days on Quiso, when we fished for bramba we used live bait. God forgive me, I could never do that again. Once I tried to burn my face in the fire, but for that I found no more courage than I had had to encounter Lord Shardik.

'One night I was with a man named Glabron, a Tonildan who was feared even in Zeray. If a man could only make himself feared enough, a band would form round him to kill and rob, to put food in their stomachs and stay alive a little longer. They would frighten others away from the fishing-places, keep watch for newcomers to waylay and so on. Sometimes they would set out to raid villages beyond Zeray, though usually it was little enough they got for their trouble. It's very small pickings here, you see. Men fought and robbed for the bare living. A man who could neither fight nor steal could expect to live perhaps three months. Three years is a good life for the hardest of men in Zeray.

"There's a tavern of sorts, down near the shore at this end of the town. They call it "The Green Grove" - after some place in Ikat, I believe; or is it Bekla?'

'Bekla.'

'Ikat or Bekla, I never heard that the drink there could turn men blind, nor yet that the landlord sold rats and lizards for food. Glabron exacted some wretched pittance in return for not destroying the place and for protecting it from others like himself. He was vain - yes, in Zeray he was vain - and must needs have the pleasure of others' envy: that they should watch him eat when they were hungry and hear him insulting those whom they feared; oh yes, and he must be tormenting their lust with the sight of what he kept for himself. "You'll take me there once too often," I said. "For God's sake, isn't it enough that I'm your property, and Keriol's body's floating down the Telthearna? Where's the sport in waving a bone at starving dogs?" Glabron never argued with anyone, least of all with me. I wasn't there for talk, and he himself was about as ready with words as a pig.

'They'd had a success that evening. Some days before, a body had been washed ashore with a little money on it, and two of Glabron's men had gone inland and come back with a sheep. Most of it they ate themselves, but a part they exchanged for drink. Glabron grew so drunk that I became more afraid than ever. In Zeray a man's life is never so much in danger as when he's drunk. I knew his enemies and I was expecting to sec one or more of them come in at any moment. It was dim enough in the room - lamplight's a scarce luxury here - but suddenly I noticed two strangers who'd entered. One had his face almost buried in the top of a great, fur cloak and the other, a huge man, was looking at me and whispering to him. They were only two to Glabron's six or seven, but I knew what could happen in that place and I was frantic to get away.

'Glabron was singing a foul song - or thought he was singing it -and I plucked at his sleeve and interrupted him. He looked round for a moment and then hit me across the face with the back of his hand. He was just going on when the muffled stranger walked across to the table. His cloak was still held across his face and only one of his eyes showed over the top. He kicked the table and rocked it, so that they all looked up at him.

4 "I don't like your song," he said to Glabron, in Beklan. "I don't like the way you treat this girl; and I don't like you either."

'As soon as he spoke I knew who he was. I thought, "I can't bear it." I wanted to warn him, but I couldn't utter a word. Glabron answered nothing for a few moments, not because he was particularly taken aback, but because it was always his way to go slowly and calmly about killing a man. He liked to make an effect - that was part of the fear he inspired - to let people see that he killed deliberately and not in a fit of rage.

' "Oh, don't you, I say," he said at length, when he was sure the whole room was listening. "I wonder whom I have the honour of addressing, don't you know?"

' "I'm the devil," says the other man, "come for your soul, and not a moment too soon either." And with that he dropped his arm. They'd never seen him before, of course, and in that dim light the face which he disclosed was not the face of a human being. They were all superstitious men - ignorant, with evil consciences, no religion and a great fear of the unknown. They leapt away from him, cursing and falling over each other. The Baron already had his sword out under his cloak, and in that moment he ran Glabron through the throat, grabbed me by the arm, cut down another man who was in his way and was out in the dark with me and Ankray before anyone had had time even to draw a knife.

'I won't tell you all the rest of the story - or not tonight. Later there'll be time. But I suppose you can well believe that nothing like Bel-ka-Trazet had ever been seen here before. For three months he and I and Ankray never slept at one and the same time. In six months he was lord of Zeray, with men at his back whom he could trust to do his bidding.

'He and I lived in this house, and people used to call me his queen - half in jest and half in earnest No one dared to show me anything but respect. I don't think they would have believed the truth - that Bel-ka-Trazet never touched me. "I doubt whether you've learned a very good opinion of men," he said to me once, "and as for me, it's little enough I've got left in the way of self-respect. At least while I'm alive I can still honour a priestess of Quiso, and that will be better for us both." Only Ankray knows that secret. The rest of Zeray must believe that we were fated to be childless, or else that his injuries - 'But though I was never in love with him, and was grateful for his self-restraint, yet still I honoured and admired him, and I would have consented to be his consort if he had wished. Much of the time he was dour and brooding. Pleasures here are meagre enough, but always he had little zest for any - as though he were punishing himself for the loss of Ortelga. He had a sharp, mordant tongue and no illusions.' 'I remember.'

"Don't ask me to come out drinking with you," he said once to his men. "I might get chased downstream by a bear." They knew what he meant, for although he'd never told them the story, news had reached Zeray of the battle in the foothills and the fall of Bekla to the Ortelgans. When anything went wrong he used to say, "You'd better get yourselves a bear - you'll do better then." But though they feared him, they always trusted and respected him and they followed him without hesitation. As I said, there was no one here who was the least match for him. He was too good for Zeray. I suppose any other baron, forced to fly as he was, would have crossed to Deelguy or made for Ikat or even Terekenalt. But he - he hated pity as a cat hates water. It was his pride, and the bitter streak in him, that sent him to Zeray like a murderer on the run. He actually enjoyed pitting himself against the misery and danger of the place. "There's a lot one could do here," he said to me one evening, while we were fishing inshore. "There's some passable land on that bit of plain round Zeray, and plenty of timber in the forests. It could never be a rich province, but it could be reasonably well off, if only the peasants weren't frightened to death and there were roads to Kabin and Linsho. Law and order and some trade - that's all that's needed. If I'm not mistaken, it's here that the Telthearna runs closest to Bekla. Before we're done we'll have two good, stout ropes stretched across these straits and a raft ferry running along them. I'm not an Ortelgan for nothing - I know what can be done with rope; and how to make it, too. Easier than contriving the Dead Belt, I assure you. Think of opening a trade route to the east - Bekla would pay any money for the use of that."'

' "They'd come and annex the province," I said.

'"They could try," try," he answered, "but it's more secure than Ortelga ever was. Forty miles from the Vrako to Zeray, and twenty miles of it thick forest and hills, difficult going unless someone builds a road; which we could destroy whenever we liked. I tell you, my girl, we'll have the last laugh on the bear yet." he answered, "but it's more secure than Ortelga ever was. Forty miles from the Vrako to Zeray, and twenty miles of it thick forest and hills, difficult going unless someone builds a road; which we could destroy whenever we liked. I tell you, my girl, we'll have the last laugh on the bear yet."

'Now the truth was that not even Bel-ka-Trazet could bring prosperity to a place like Zeray, because he had no barons or men of any quality, and could not be everywhere himself. What could be done, he did. He punished murder and robbery and stopped raiding inland, and he persuaded or bribed a few peasants to bring in wood and wool and do their best to teach carpentry and pottery, so that the town could start bartering what it made. We bartered dried fish too, and rushes for thatching and matting - anything we could. But compared even with Ortelga it was very thin-flowing, rickety business, simply because of the sort of men who come here - criminals can't work, you know - and the lack of even one road. Bel-ka-Trazet realized this, and it was less than a year ago now that he resolved on a new scheme.

'We knew what had been happening in Ikat and Bekla - there were fugitives here from both cities. Bel-ka-Trazet had been impressed by what he had heard of Santil-ke-Erketlis and finally he decided to try to drive a bargain with him. The difficulty was that we had so terribly little to offer. As the Baron said, we were like a man trying to sell a lame ox or a lopsided pot. Who would trouble to come and take Zeray? Even to a general not facing an enemy army in the field, it would hardly be worth the march from Kabin. We discussed it between ourselves again and again and at last Bel-ka-Trazet devised an offer which he thought might appeal both to Santil and to our own followers. His idea was to tell Santil that if ever he were to march north, whether or not he succeeded in taking Bekla he was welcome to annex Zeray. We would help him in any way he wished. In particular, we would help him to close the gap of Linsho in the north and then to round up all slave-traders who might have fled east of the Vrako to escape him. We would also tell him that we believed that with skilled rope-makers and carpenters, and the labour of his own pioneers working to their orders, it would be possible to construct a raft-ferry across the Telthearna narrows. Then, if all went well, he could build a road from Kabin to Zeray; and these enterprises too, if they appealed to him, we would assist in every way we could. Finally, if he were not afraid to enlist men from Zeray, we would send him as many as possible, provided that he would grant them pardons.

'The five or six men whom the Baron called his councillors agreed that this offer was our best hope of remaining alive, either in Zeray or out of it, if only the Yeldashay would agree to come. But to get a message to Santil would be difficult. There are only two ways out of this country east of the Vrako. One is northwards through the gap of Linsho; the other is west across the Vrako in the neighbourhood of Kabin. Below Kabin the Vrako is impassable, all along the Tonilda border to its confluence with the Telthearna. Desperate men find their way to Zeray, but even more desperate men cannot contrive a way out.

'It might well prove impossible, we thought, for anyone to reach Ikat Yeldashay, but at least we bad a man who was ready to try. His name was Elstrit, a lad of about seventeen who, rather than abandon his father, had joined him in his flight from Terekenalt. What his father had done I don't know, for he died before I came to Zeray and Elstrit had been living on his wits ever since, until he had the sense to throw in his lot with Bel-ka-Trazet. He was not only strong and clever, but he had the advantage of not being a known criminal or a wanted man. Clever or not, he still had to attempt the Vrako crossing at Kabin. It was the Baron who hit on the idea of forging him a Beklan slave-dealer's warrant. In Kabin he was to say that he was working for Lalloc, a known dealer in children, and had the protection of the Ortelgans in Bekla; that on Lalloc's instructions he had entered Zeray province by way of Linsho Gap and travelled through it to sec whether the country offered any prospects for a slave-raid. He was now returning to report to Lalloc in Bekla. Then, later, as soon as he approached the province of Yelda, he could destroy the forged warrant It was a thin enough story, but the seal on the warrant was a very good imitation of the bear seal of Bekla (it was made for us by a notorious forger) and we could only hope for good luck. Elstrit crossed the Vrako about three months, ago, soon after the rains, and what became of him after that we don't know - not even so much as whether he ever reached Ikat.

'It was a month after that that the Baron fell sick. Many fall sick in Zeray. It's no wonder - the filthiness of the place, rats, lice, infection, continual strain and fear, the burden of guilt and the loss of hope. The Baron had had a hard life and in spite of himself he was failing. You can guess how we nursed him, Ankray and I. We were like men in a wilderness of wild beasts, who tend a fire in the night and pray for dawn. But the fire went out - it went out.'

The tears stood brimming in her eyes. She brushed them sharply away, hid her face in her hands a moment and then, with a deep sigh, went on.

'Once he spoke of you. "That fellow Kelderek," he said, "I'd have killed him if the Tuginda hadn't sent for us that night I don't wish him ill any longer, but for Ortelga's sake I only hope he can finish what he's started." It was a few days later that he spoke to our men as best he could - for by that time he was very weak. He advised them to spare no pains to get news of Santil's intentions and if there seemed the least hope, at all costs to keep order in Zeray until he came. "Otherwise you'll all be dead in less than a year," he said, "and the place will be worse than ever it was before we started." After that, only Ankray and I were with him until he died. He went very hard. You'd expect that, wouldn't you? The last thing he said was, "The bear - tell them the bear -" I bent over him and asked, "What of the bear, my lord?", but he never spoke again. I watched his face - that terrible face - guttering down like the wax of a spent candle. When he was gone, we did what we had to do. I covered his eyes with a pad of wet cloth, and I remember how, as we were laying the arms straight, the cloth slipped, so that the dead eyes opened and I saw them staring into mine.

'You have seen his grave. There were heavy hearts - and frightened hearts - at the time when that was made. It was over a month ago, and every every day since then Zeray has slipped a little further from between our hands. We have not lost it yet, but I will tell you what it is like. I remember that once, when I was a little girl, I stood watching a miller driving his ox round and round to grind corn. Two men who thought he had cheated them began quarrelling with him, and at last they dragged him away and beat him. The ox went on plodding round, first at the same speed, then slower, until at last - and anxiously, as my clear child's eye could see - it dared to try what would happen if it stopped. Nothing happened, and it lay down. Half the men in Zeray are wondering whether they dare to defy us. Any day now some will try. I know our men - the Baron's men. Without him they will never hold together. It's only a matter of time. day since then Zeray has slipped a little further from between our hands. We have not lost it yet, but I will tell you what it is like. I remember that once, when I was a little girl, I stood watching a miller driving his ox round and round to grind corn. Two men who thought he had cheated them began quarrelling with him, and at last they dragged him away and beat him. The ox went on plodding round, first at the same speed, then slower, until at last - and anxiously, as my clear child's eye could see - it dared to try what would happen if it stopped. Nothing happened, and it lay down. Half the men in Zeray are wondering whether they dare to defy us. Any day now some will try. I know our men - the Baron's men. Without him they will never hold together. It's only a matter of time.

'Every evening I have gone to his tomb and prayed for help and deliverance. Sometimes Ankray comes with me, or perhaps another, but often I go alone. There's no modesty in Zeray, and I'm past being afraid. As long as none dares insult me, I take it as a sign that we still have some grip on the place; and it does no harm to behave as though I believed we had. Sometimes I have prayed that Santil's army may come, but more often I use no words, simply offering to God my hope and longing, and my presence at the grave of the man who honoured and respected me.

'On Quiso, the Tuginda used to teach us that real and actual trust in God was the whole life of a priestess. "God can afford to wait," she used to say. "Whether to convert the unbelieving, to reward the just or to punish the wicked - God can afford to wait. With Him, everything comes home in the end. Our work is not only to believe that, but to show that we believe it bv everything that we say and do."'

Melathys wept quietly and continuously as she went on. 'I had put out of my mind how I came to Zeray and the reason why. My treachery, my cowardice, my sacrilege - perhaps I thought that my sufferings had blotted them out, had dug a ditch between me and that priestess who broke her vows, betrayed Lord Shardik and failed the Tuginda. Tonight, when I turned and saw who was standing behind me, do you know what I thought? I thought, "She has come to Zeray to find me, either to renounce or forgive me, either to condemn me or take me back to Quiso" - as though I were not defiled forty times over. I fell at her feet to implore her forgiveness, to tell her I was not worth what I believed she had done, to beg her only to forgive me and then let me die. Now I know it's true what she said. God -' and, letting her head fall forward on her arms across the table, she sobbed bitterly - 'God can afford to wait. God can afford to wait.'

Kelderek put his hand on her shoulder. 'Come,' he said, 'we'll talk no more tonight. Let's put these thoughts aside and simply do the immediate tasks before us. Very often, in perplexity, that's best, and a great comfort in trouble. Go and look after the Tuginda. Sleep beside her, and we'll meet again tomorrow.'

As soon as Ankray had made up his bed, Kelderek lay down and slept as he had not slept since leaving Bekla.

44 The Heart's Disclosure

Speck by speck, the noonday sunlight moved along the wall and from somewhere distant sounded the slow chun, chun chun, chun of an axe in wood. The Tuginda, her eyes closed, frowned like one tormented by clamour and tossed from side to side, unable, as it seemed, to be an instant free from discomfort. Again Kelderek wiped the sweat from her forehead with a cloth dipped in the pitcher by the bed. Since early morning she had lain between sleep and waking, recognizing neither Melathys nor himself, from time to time uttering a few random words and once sipping a little wine and water from a cup held to her lips. An hour before noon Melathys, with Ankray in attendance, had set out to confer with the former followers of the Baron and acquaint them with her news, leaving Kelderek to bar the door and watch alone against her return. of an axe in wood. The Tuginda, her eyes closed, frowned like one tormented by clamour and tossed from side to side, unable, as it seemed, to be an instant free from discomfort. Again Kelderek wiped the sweat from her forehead with a cloth dipped in the pitcher by the bed. Since early morning she had lain between sleep and waking, recognizing neither Melathys nor himself, from time to time uttering a few random words and once sipping a little wine and water from a cup held to her lips. An hour before noon Melathys, with Ankray in attendance, had set out to confer with the former followers of the Baron and acquaint them with her news, leaving Kelderek to bar the door and watch alone against her return.

The sound of the axe ceased and he sat on in the silence, sometimes taking the Tuginda's hand in his own and speaking to her in the hope that, waking, she might become calmer. Under his fingers her pulse beat fast: and her arm, he now saw, was swollen and inflamed with weeping scratches which he recognized as those inflicted by the trazada thorn. She had said nothing of these, nor of the deep cut in her foot which Melathys had found and dressed the night before.

Slow as the sunlight, his mind moved over all that had befallen. The days which had passed since his leaving Bekla were themselves, he thought, like some Streel of time into which he had descended step by step and whence he had now emerged for a short time before death. There was no need for him, after all, to expiate his blasphemy by seeking that death, for however events might turn out it seemed certain. If Erkcdis were victorious but nevertheless sent no troops east of the Vrako, either because he had never received Bel-ka-Trazet's message or because it had found no favour with him, then sooner or later he himself would the from violence or sickness, either in Zeray or in the attempt to escape from it. But if Erketlis' troops, crossing the Vrako, were to come upon him in Zeray or elsewhere - and it was likely enough that they would be keeping their eyes open for him - he had Elleroth's word for it that they would put him to death. If Erketlis were defeated, it was possible that Zelda and Ged-la-Dan, coming to Kabin, might send soldiers across the Vrako to seek Shardik. But once Shardik was known to be dead, they would not trouble themselves about his former priest-king. And if the discredited priest-king were to attempt to return from Zeray, whether to Bekla or to Ortelga, he would not be suffered to live.

Never again would he posture and ape the part of Shardik's mediator to the people. Nor ever again could he become the single-hearted visionary who, fearless in his divinely-imparted elation, had walked and slept beside Shardik in the woods of Ortelga. Why, then, despite his resolve four days ago in Ruvit's hovel, despite his unlessencd shame and remorse, did he now find in himself the will to live? Mere cowardice, he supposed. Or perhaps it was that some remaining streak of pride, which had encouraged him to entertain the thought of a deliberate death of atonement, resented the prospect of dying on an Ikat sword or a Zeray criminal's knife. Whatever the reason, he found himself considering whether he might not attempt - however desperate the odds against him - first to bring the Tuginda back to Quiso, and then perhaps to escape to some country beyond the Telthearna. Yet mere survival, he realized as he pondered, was not the whole of the motive which had changed his earlier resolve to die.

Into his mind returned the picture of the beautiful, white-robed girl who had paced by night across the flame-lit terrace above the Ledges of Quiso, the girl whose craven fear in the woods of Ortelga had aroused in himself nothing but pity and the wish to protect and comfort her. She, like him, had found unexpectedly the self-deceit and cowardice in her own heart and, having once, no doubt, believed of herself that Shardik had no more loyal and trustworthy servant, had learned with bitter shame that the truth was otherwise. Since then she had suffered still more. Abandoning Shardik and throwing herself upon the world, she had found the world's misery but never the world's pleasure. Guilt, cruelty and fear must almost have destroyed in her the natural power to love any man or to look for any security or joy from a man's love. But - and here, releasing the Tuginda's hand, he sprang up and began striding back and forth across the room - perhaps that power was not beyond saving; not drowned beyond hope of recovery by one ready to show that he valued it above all else?

The Tuginda moaned, her face twisted as though in pain. He crossed to the bed and knelt to support her with one arm round her shoulders.

'Rest, saiyett You are among friends. Be at peace.' She was speaking, very low, and he put his car to her lips. 'Shardik! To find - Lord Shardik -' She ceased, and again he sat beside her.

His love for Melathys, he knew now, had lain dormant in his heart from the first. The girl on the terrace, her great, golden collar glinting in the flame-light; the girl who had played, immune, with the point of the arrow and the edge of the sword, as a goddess might play with cataracts or lightning; who, uninstructed and unquestioning, had divined the importance of his coming to Quiso - this memory had never left him. Of his admiration and awe for her he had certainly been conscious, but how could he, the ragged, dirty hunter who had fallen senseless to the ground for fear of the magic of Quiso, possibly have suspected, then, that desire also had sown its seed in his heart? To desire a priestess of Quiso - the very thought, entertained, was sacrilege. He recalled the events of that night - the anger of Bel-ka-Trazet, the bewitched landing on Quiso in the dark, the crossing of the swaying bridge over the ravine, the sight of Rantzay and Anthred walking among the glowing embers; and, weighing heavier than all, the burden of the news which he bore. Small wonder that he had not dwelt much upon the nature of his feeling for Melathys. And yet, unregarded, as though germinating its own life independently and alone, deep below his consuming preoccupation with Shardik, his cryptic love had taken root. In his pity for Melathys, he now realized, there had lain an unrecognized satisfaction in finding that human weakness had its part even in her; that she, like any other mortal, could stand in need of comfort and encouragement Lastly, he recalled the night when the High Baron and he had discovered her flight 'That girl had some sense,' the Baron had said. At the sardonic words he himself had felt not only resentment but also anguish that Melathys, like the golden berries of the melikon, should have proved worthless, have drifted away with the river, to be seen no more. And yet another feeling he recalled which had come into his heart - and how, he wondered, could he possibly have failed to perceive the significance of this? - a sense of personal loss and betrayal. Already, even at that time, he had unconsciously begun to think of her as in some sense his own and, though strong then and confident in his own integrity, had felt neither contempt nor anger at her flight, but only disappointment Since that night neither she nor anyone had betrayed liim so thoroughly as he had betrayed himself. If she had wept for forgiveness in the graveyard, what was his need?

He thought too, too, of his unforced chastity in Bekla, of his indifference both to the luxury at his command and the outward grandeur of his kingship; of his continual sense that there was some truth that he still lacked. The great secret to be imparted through Shardik, the secret of life which he had never found - this, he still knew, was no figment. This he had not confused with his unrecognized love for Melathys. Yet - and now he frowned, puzzled and uncertain - in some mysterious way the two were connected. With the help of the second he might perhaps, have succeeded, after all, in finding the first of his unforced chastity in Bekla, of his indifference both to the luxury at his command and the outward grandeur of his kingship; of his continual sense that there was some truth that he still lacked. The great secret to be imparted through Shardik, the secret of life which he had never found - this, he still knew, was no figment. This he had not confused with his unrecognized love for Melathys. Yet - and now he frowned, puzzled and uncertain - in some mysterious way the two were connected. With the help of the second he might perhaps, have succeeded, after all, in finding the first Just as the Tuginda had warned, the conquest of Bekla had proved to have nothing to do with the truth of Shardik, had served only to impede the search and hinder the divine disclosure of that truth. Now that Shardik was lost for ever, he himself had awoken, like a drunkard in a ditch, to the recollection of folly, while the magic girl among the bowls of fire had become a disgraced fugitive, familiar with fear, with lust and violence. Error and shame, he reflected, were the inescapable lot of mankind; yet still it comforted him to think that Melathys too had a part in this bitter inheritance. If, somehow, he could save her life and bring her and the Tuginda to safety, then perhaps he might at last beg the Tuginda's forgiveness and, if Melathys would consent to come with him, journey far away and forget the very name of Shardik, of whom he had proved himself so unworthy.

Hearing Melathys call from beyond the courtyard, he went out and unbarred the door. The girl's news was that Farrass and Thrild, those followers of the Baron whom she herself felt were most to be trusted, were ready to speak with him if he would go to meet them.

Asking Ankray to make the journey once again as his guide, he set out to cross Zeray.

Despite all that he had heard, he was unprepared for the squalor and filth, the sullen, half-starved faces peering as he went by, the miasma of want, fear and violence that seemed to rise out of the very dirt underfoot. Those whom he passed on the water-front were hollow-cheeked and grey-faced, sitting or lying listlessly as they stored out at the choppy water racing down the midstream channel and the deserted eastern shore beyond. He saw no shops and no one plying a trade, unless indeed it were a shivering, pot-bellied child with a basket, who waded knee-deep in the shallows, stooping and searching - for what, Kelderek could not tell. Upon arriving at his destination, like one awaking from a dream, he could recall few details, retaining only an undifferentiated impression of menace sensed rather than observed, and of hard glances which he had found himself unwilling to meet. Once or twice, indeed, he had stopped and tried to look about him, but Ankray, without presuming in so many words to warn him, had contrived to convey that they would do better to keep on their way.

Farrass, a tall, thin-faced man, dressed in torn clothes too small for him and carrying a club at his belt, sat lengthways, with one foot up, on a bench, looking warily at Kelderek and continually dabbing with a rag at an oozing sore on his check.

'Melathys says you were the Ortelgan king of Bekla.'

'It's true, but I'm seeking no authority here.'

Thrild, dark, slight and quick-moving, grinned where he leant against the window-ledge, biting a splinter of kindling-wood between his teeth.

'That's as well, for there's little to be had.'

Farrass hesitated, reluctant, like everyone cast of the Vrako, to ask questions about the past At length, shrugging his shoulders like a man deciding that the only way to have done with an awkward job is to get on with it, he said, 'You were deposed?'

'I fell into the hands of the Yeldashay army at Kabin. They spared my life but sent me across the Vrako.'

'Santil's army?'

'Yes.'

'They're at Kabin?' 'They were six days ago.' 'Why did they spare you?'

'One of their principal officers persuaded them. He had his reasons.'

'And you chose to come to Zeray?'

'I fell in with an Ortelgan priestess in the forest, a woman who was once my friend. She was seeking - well, seeking Bel-ka-Trazet. She's lying sick now at the Baron's house.'

Farrass nodded. Thrild grinned again. 'We're in distinguished company.'

'The worst,' replied Kelderek. 'I want only to save my life and the priestess's - by helping you, perhaps.' 'How?*

'That's for you to say. I've been assured of death if I fall into the hands of the Yeldashay army a second time. So if Santil accepts Bel-ka-Trazet's offer and sends troops to Zeray, it's likely to turn out badly for me unless you can persuade them to give me a safe-conduct out of here. That's the bargain I'm hoping to drive with you.'

Farrass, chin on hand, looked at the floor, frowning and pondering, and again it was Thrild who spoke.

'You mustn't over-estimate us. The Baron had some authority when he was alive, but without him we've less and less. We're safe ourselves for the time being and that's about as far as it goes. It's little regard the Yeldashay would be likely to have for any request we made of them.'

'You've already done us a good turn,' said Farrass, 'by bringing news that Santil's at Kabin. Did you hear whether he ever received the Baron's message?'

'No. But if he thinks that there are fugitive slave-traders this side of the Vrako it's quite possible that Yeldashay troops have already crossed it. Whether or not, I think you should send him another messenger at once, and at all costs try to hold things together here until you get an answer.'

'If he's at Kabin,' replied Farrass, 'our best hope, though it may not be yours, will be to go there ourselves, with Melathys, and ask him to let us go on to Ikat.'

'Farrass here never really believed in the scheme for Santil to come and take Zeray,' said Thrild. 'Now the Baron's dead I agree with him. The Baron would have had the place ready to offer - we haven't. We'd do better to get out now and go and meet the Ikats at Kabin. You must understand our position. We don't pretend to keep law and order. A man in Zeray is free to murder and steal as long as he doesn't become so dangerous that it's safer for us to kill him than let him alone. All but a few of the men in this place have committed some serious crime. If they were to learn that we'd invited Ikat soldiers to come and take the town, they'd up and go for us like cornered rats. It's not worth our while to try to carry on with the Baron's plan.'

'But there's no wealth in Zeray. Why do they kill and steal here?'

Thrild threw up his hands. 'Why? For food, what else? In Zeray, men starve. The Baron once hanged two Dcelguy for killing and eating a child. In Zeray, men eat caterpillars - dig mud-skapas out of the river to boil for soup. Do you know the gylon?'

'The glass-fly? Yes. I grew up on the Telthearna, you know.'

'Here, at midsummer, the swarms cover the river inshore. People scoop them up in handfuls and eat them thankfully.'

'It's only because those of us who supported the Baron know that we must either keep together or die,' said Farrass, 'that none of us has so far tried to take his woman. A quarrel amongst ourselves would mean the end of all of us. But that can't last. Someone's bound to try soon. She's pretty.'

Kelderek shrugged his shoulders, keeping his face expressionless.

'I suppose she can choose for herself when she's ready?'

'Not in Zeray. But anyway that problem's solved now. We must set off for Kabin and she'll come with us, no doubt. Your Ortelgan priestess too, if she wants to live.'

'How soon? She's in a high fever.'

'Then we can't wait for her,' said Thrild.

'I'll take her north when she recovers,' said Kelderek. 'I've told you why it's impossible for me to go to Kabin, either now or later.'

'If you went north you'd wander until you were killed. You'd never get through the gap at Linsho.'

'You said I'd brought you good news. Isn't there anything you can do to help me?'

'Not by staying here. If the Ikats will listen to us, we'll try to persuade them to send for your Ortelgan priestess, and you can try your luck with them when they come. What more do you expect? This is Zeray.'

45 In Zeray

'The damned cowards,' said Melathys, 'and the Baron not forty days in his grave! If I were General Santil I'd send them back to Zeray and hang them on the shore. They could pcrfectly well hold this place for six days. That would be more than enough time for someone to get through to Kabin and come back with a hundred soldiers. But no, they'd rather run.'

Kelderek stood with his back to her, staring out into the little courtyard. He said carefully, 'As things are, you ought to go with them.'

She did not answer and after some moments he turned round. She was standing smiling, waiting to meet his eyes. 'Not I. It's seldom indeed that a second chance is offered to someone as undeserving as I. I I don't intend to desert the Tuginda a second time, believe me.' don't intend to desert the Tuginda a second time, believe me.'

'If you reach Kabin with Farrass and Thrild you'll be safe. Once they're gone you won't be safe here. You must dunk of that very seriously.'

'I don't want safety on those terms. Did you think that what I said at the Baron's tomb was hysterical?'

He was about to speak again when she went to the door and called for Ankray.

'Ankray, the Baron's men are leaving Zeray for Kabin tonight or tomorrow. They're hoping to reach the army of General Santil-ke-Erketlis. I think you should go with them, for your own safety.'

'You're going, then, saiyett?'

'No, Lord Kelderek and I will be staying with the Tuginda.'