Soon after, he took his leave and Kelderek, finding that the meeting had left him tired, uncertain and disturbed, slept for several hours, not waking until the late afternoon.

After a few days he felt stronger and his wounded arm became somewhat less painful. He took to walking on the shore and about the village, once going almost a mile north, as far as the open country round the Gap. He had not realized what a poor village it was - thirty or forty hovels and twenty canoes clustered about a shady, unhealthy patch of shore below a wooded ridge - that same ridge down which he had tottered on the morning of Shardik's death.

There was little cultivated land, the villagers living for the most part on fish, half-wild pigs, water fowl and any forest beasts that they could kill. There was almost no trade, the place was largely isolated and the effects of years of in-breeding were all too plain. The villagers were friendly enough, however, and he took to dropping in to their homes and talking to them about their skills and needs and the troubles of their hard, rough lives.

One afternoon, as he and Melathys were walking together outside the village, they came upon five or six of the former slave children, who were idling about among the trees. They looked warily at Kelderek, but none approached or spoke. He called out to them, went closer and did his best to talk to them as comrades - for so indeed he felt them to be - but it was not that day nor for several days after that he had the least success. In their silence and curt, unsmiling answers they differed much from the children he remembered on Ortelga. Little by little he began to understand that for nearly all, their sufferings with Genshed had been only the most recent in miserable lives of desertion, neglect and abuse. Parentless, friendless and helpless, they had been enslaved before ever they met Genshed.

From Shouter, after one or two visits, he judged it best to keep away for the time being. The boy had been injured when Shardik charged upon Genshed and neglect of his hurts had brought on a delirious fever of which, until a few days ago, he had been expected to die. He was consumed with fear and convinced that the Yeldashay intended him some cruel death; and the sight of any of those whom he had himself ill-treated intensified his guilt and panic. Kelderek left him to Melathys and her village woman, but nevertheless found himself wondering more than once what would become of him. Would he, perhaps, succeed in wandering back to Terekenalt, there to shift for himself and find a new criminal master? Or would he, before that, as he himself so clearly expected, be killed in Tissarn by those who had cause enough to hate him ?

The Sarkid contingent also remained, some quartered in Tissarn and some where he had first seen them, guarding the approaches to the Linsho Gap. Tan-Rion, asked the reason, explained that the Yeldashay were still patrolling the province for fugitive slave-traders, from the confluence of the Vrako and Telthearna to the Gap itself, the Sarkid troops forming the heel of the net. The following evening two more slave-traders were brought in, each alone and in the last stages of want and exhaustion, having fled north for days before the advancing curtain of soldiers. Next morning the patrolling troops themselves reached Linsho and the hunt was over.

A few days later Kelderek was returning with Melathys from an hour's fishing - he could manage no more - when they met Elleroth and Tan-Rion not far from the place where Shardik's funeral raft had lain. Despite what Elleroth had said at their last meeting, he and Kelderek had not talked together since. It had not occurred to Kelderek, however, to regard this as a lapse on Elleroth's part The Ban of Sarkid had been absent for several days among his various outposts and bivouacs, but in any case Kelderek was well aware that he himself was in no position to expect warmth from Elleroth or any repetition of the punctilious courtesy shown on the morning of his arrival. By chance it had so happened that the ex-king of Bekla had suffered in company with Elleroth's son and helped to save his life. This had saved his own; but nevertheless he was now of no use or value whatever to the Ban of Sarkid, who had already done fully as much as anyone would consider incumbent upon him.

Elleroth greeted them with his usual urbanity, enquired after Kelderek's recovery and expressed his hope that Melathys did not find life in the village unduly rough and comfortless. Then he said, 'Most of my men - and I too - are leaving for Zeray the day after tomorrow. I suppose you'll both wish to come? I personally am travelling by river and I'm sure we can find places for you.'

'We shall be grateful,' answered Kelderek, conscious, despite himself, of his sense of inferiority to this man and of his utter dependence on his goodwill. 'It's time now that we were returning to Zeray, and I'm afraid I'm not strong enough to march with the troops. You say "most of your men". Aren't they all going?'

*I should have explained to you earlier,' replied Elleroth. 'Under the terms agreed with the Ortelgans, we are taking control of this province - all land east of the Vrako. That is perfectly just and reasonable, as Bekla certainly never controlled it and the last - indeed the only - Baron of Zeray, the Ortelgan Bel-ka-Trazet, specifically invited us to annex it only a few months ago. For some little while, until we have the place settled, there will be a force of occupation, with outposts at suitable places.'

'I'm only surprised you think it's worth your while,' said Kelderek, determined to express some view of his own. 'Will there be any profit at all?'

"The profit we shall owe to Bel-ka-Trazet' answered Elleroth. 'I never knew him, but he must have been a remarkable man. If I'm not mistaken, it was he who first conceived what I believe is going to prove an innovation of the greatest importance.'

'He was was a remarkable man,' said Melathys. 'He was a man who could pluck advantage from an acre of ashes.' a remarkable man,' said Melathys. 'He was a man who could pluck advantage from an acre of ashes.'

'He advised us,' said Elleroth, 'that it would be practicable to construct a ferry across the Zeray strait, and even outlined to us how it might be done - an idea entirely of his own devising, as far as I can make out. Our pioneers, together with men from Deelguy, are engaged on the work now, but we have sent to ask for the help of some Ortelgan rope-makers. That will be most important. No one understands the uses and qualities of ropes like Ortelgans. When the ferry is complete, Zeray is bound to become a commercial town of importance, for there will be a new and direct route, both for Ikat and for Bekla, across the Telthearna and on to the east. Whatever countries may lie there, the ferry is bound to open up entirely new markets.' He paused. 'If I recall, Crendrik, you were interested in trade, weren't you, when you were in Bekla? No, no -' he held up his hand - 'I didn't intend any malice, or to wound your feelings, I assure you. Please don't think that. Isn't it true, though, that you played a large part in directing the empire's policy in commerce?'

'Yes, that's true,' answered Kelderek. 'I'm not an aristocrat, as you know. I've never owned land: and to those who are neither farmers nor soldiers, trade's vital if they're to thrive at all. That was what I could understand about Bekla that our generals couldn't. It was from that that the evil came - 'he paused - 'but there was good as well.'

'Yes, I see,' said Ellcrodi rather abstractedly, and began to talk to Melathys about the probable needs of the Tuginda.

The villagers learned with regret that the soldiers were leaving, for on the whole they had behaved well and paid honestly enough for whatever they had had. Besides, they had brought welcome change and excitement to the normal squalor of life in Tissarn. There was the usual bustle as arms and equipment were got together and inspected, quarters relinquished, loads apportioned and an advance party despatched to prepare the first night's camp (for only Elleroth and a few other officers, with their servants, were to go by water, available canoes being scarce).

During the afternoon Kelderek, weary of the racket and commotion, took a line and some bait and set off along the waterside. He had not gone far when he came upon nine or ten of the slave children splashing about the shore. Joining them, he found them in rather better spirits than he had come to expect, and even began to derive some pleasure from their company, which now reminded him a little of old days on Ortelga. One of the boys, a dark, quick-moving lad about ten years old, was teaching them a singing game from Paltesh. This led to others, until at length Kelderek, being teased and challenged to contribute something, showed them the first Ortelgan game that came into his head.

Cat catch a fish in the river in the foam; Cat catch a fish and he got to get it home. Cat catch a fish and he got to get it home. Run, cat, run, cat, drag it through the mire- Run, cat, run, cat, drag it through the mire- As he scratched out the lines with a stick and laid down a green branch for the fish, he felt once more, as he had not for years, the exhilaration of that spontaneity, directness and absorption that had once led him to call children' the flames of God'.

Take it to the pretty girl that's sitting by the fire fire And away he went, hobbling and shuffling slowly enough, for as he had told Elleroth, he was still far from healed; yet in his heart he went as once in the days when he had been a young simpleton who would rather play with the children than drink with the men.

When it was no longer his turn to be the cat, he dropped out. He was resting unobtrusively behind a rock when he realized that the boy loitering near him was Shouter, but so haggard and pale that at first he had not recognized him. He was playing no part in the game, but staring moodily at the ground, pacing one way and another and jabbing viciously at the stones with a stick. A second glance showed Kelderek that if he was not actually weeping, he was probably as close to it as was possible for any boy who had spent several months in the service of Genshed.

'Are you feeling better?' asked Kelderek as Shouter came a little nearer.

' 'be mucking stupid,' answered Shouter, barely turning his head.

'Come here!' said Kelderek sharply. 'What's brought you out here? What's the matter?' The boy made no reply and he took him by the arm and said again, 'Come on, tell me, what's the matter?'

'Glad to be going, aren't they?' said Shouter, in a kind of savage gasp. 'Either they're lucky or they're too bloody stupid to know they're not.'

'Why, aren't they going home?' asked Kelderek.

'Home? There's half of them's never had any home.'If they had, they wouldn't have been here, would they?'

'Go on,' said Kelderek, still gripping his arm. 'Why wouldn't they?'

'You know's well as I do; kids whose mothers don't want 'em, fathers have mucked off, they live how they can, don't they, one day someone sells 'em for forty meld to get rid of 'em - same as they did me - best thing ever happened some of them, next to being dead. Slaves - they was slaves all along, wasn't they?'

'Where do you think they'll go now, then?'

'How the hell should I know?' bawled Shouter, with something like a return to his old form. 'Leg by mucking Lee, I shouldn't wonder. Why don't you let me alone? I'm not afraid of you!'

Kelderek, forgetting his line and bait, left the boys and made his way back to Dirion's house. Melathys met him at the door, wearing her Yeldashay metlan metlan with the corn-sheaves emblem. with the corn-sheaves emblem.

'You missed Elleroth,' she said. 'The Ban in person. He's invited us to dine with him tonight and says he very much hopes you won't be too tired. There'll be no one else and he's looking forward to seeing you, which from him amounts to a pressing invitation, I should think.' After a few moments she added, 'He stayed here a little while, in case you returned, and I - I took the opportunity to tell him how things are between you and me. I dare say he knew already, for the matter of that, but he had the good manners to pretend he didn't I told him how I came to be in Zeray and about Bel-ka-Trazet. He asked what we intended to do now and I explained - or tried to explain - what Lord Shardik's death had meant to us. I told him you were quite decided that there could be no question of your ever returning to Bekla.'

'I'm glad you told him,' said Kelderek. 'You talk more easily to him and his like than ever I shall. He reminds me of Ta-Kominion; and he he was too much for me. Elleroth might help us, I suppose, but I don't intend to ask him. I owe him my life, yet all the same I can't bring myself to give any of these Yeldashay the chance to tell me that I'm lucky to be alive. But - but -' was too much for me. Elleroth might help us, I suppose, but I don't intend to ask him. I owe him my life, yet all the same I can't bring myself to give any of these Yeldashay the chance to tell me that I'm lucky to be alive. But - but -'

'But what, my darling?' she asked, raising her lips and kissing the pierced lobe of his ear.

'You said, "It will be shown us what we are to do," and I've a kind of inkling that something may happen before we leave Tissarn.'

'What?'

'No,' he said, smiling. 'No, it's you that's the clairvoyante priestess from Quiso, not I.'

'I'm not a priestess,' answered the girl gravely.

'The Tuginda said differently. But you'll be able to ask her again tomorrow night, and Ankray too for that matter.'

' "Well, saiyett, the Baron, now he always used to say - "' It was an excellent imitation, but she broke off suddenly. 'Never mind, here comes Dirion. Now let me change that bandage on your arm. Whatever have you been doing up the river? It's far too dirty to go out to dinner with Elleroth.'

It was pleasant to have so much light in the room, thought Kelderek, watching Elleroth's servant renew the lamps and sweep up the hearth. Not since Bekla had he seen a room so bright after dark. True, the light served to reveal no finery or display - little, indeed, but the poverty of the place, for Elleroth's quarters were much like his own - a wooden, shed-like house near the waterside, with two bare rooms on each floor - but it also showed that Elleroth, as might be expected, liked to be generous, even lavish, to his guests; and that, too, without thought of return, for, as he had promised, no one was present besides himself, Melathys, Tan-Rion, another officer and Radu. The boy, though still pale and emaciated in appearance, had changed as a musician changes when he sets hand to his instrument. As in an old talc, the wretched slave-boy had turned back into the heir of Sarkid; a young gentleman, brought up to be deferential to his father, gracious to his father's officers, silently attentive to the conversation of his elders and in every way equal to his station. Yet it was not all courtier, for he talked earnestly to Kelderek for some time about the slave children and also about the ceremony on the shore; and when Elleroth's servant, having cut up his one-handed master's meat, was about to do the same for Kelderek, Radu forestalled him, setting aside Kelderek's protest with the remark that it was less than Kelderek had done for him.

The dinner had been as good as competent soldier-servants could produce on active service; fish (he himself could have caught better), duck, stringy pork with watercress, hot bannocks and goat's cheese; and an egg syllabub with nuts and honey. The wine, however, was Yeldashay, southern, full and smooth, and Kelderek smiled inwardly as he thought of Elleroth, in desperate haste to start his forced march from Kabin in response to the news that his son was alive, finding time to give orders that plenty of it was to be brought along. That Elleroth, for all his aristocratic detachment, had a magnanimous and sincere heart he had had ample proof and indeed could be said to be alive to testify: nor was he himself so envious or mean as to suppose that wealth and style necessarily denoted indifference to the feelings of poorer men. If Elleroth was an aristocrat, he felt an aristocrat's obligations, and that a good deal more warmly than Ta-Kominion or Ged-la-Dan. His soldiers would have followed him into the Streels of Urtah. And yet Kelderek, for all his real gratitude to this man, who had set aside their former enmity and treated him as a friend and guest, still found himself out of accord with Elleroth's smooth self-possession, with the even, controlled tone of his voice and his capacity for deftly converting Kelderek's rather anecdotal manner of conversation into his own style of detached, impersonal comment. He had been most courteous and considerate, but to Kelderek his talk and bearing nevertheless contained more than a suggestion of the ambassador entertaining half-civilized foreigners in the way of duty. Had there, perhaps, been some unrevealcd purpose behind his invitation? Yet what purpose could there be, now that all was resolved and setdcd? Radu was alive - and Shardik was dead. Ikat and Bekla were at peace and Melathys and he were free to go where they might. So were Shouter and the slave children - free as flies, free as autumn leaves or as wind-borne ashes. No, there could be no more strands to unravel now.

It was fortunate, he thought, that Melathys, at any rate, had some stomach for the party. Even remembering all that she had suffered, yet in one way she had been lucky, for despite her devotion to the Tuginda and her determination to vindicate her long-ago treachery to Shardik, she was not and never had been made for the seclusion of an island priestess. She was flirting with Tan-Rion at this moment - embroidering upon some banter of how she would visit Sarkid and reveal all that he had done while he had been on active service. Kelderek felt no jealousy, but only gladness. He knew her to be warm-hearted, mercurial, even passionate. She was working out her own way of overcoming the evil that had been done to her and meanwhile he could be patient, despite the kindling of desire which told him that his body at least was recovering.

Yes, he reflected, his body was recovering. His heart would hardly do so. He had seen into the depth of a Streel lower than Urtah, a devil's hole where Shara lay meaninglessly murdered and Shouter loitered cursing in the wasteland. That was the human world - the world which Elleroth saw primarily in terms of a ruler's problems of law and order - the world in which Lord Shardik had given his sacred life to save children condemned to slavery by human selfishness and neglect.

Elleroth was speaking again now, of the balance of power between Ikat and Bekla, of the prospects for peace and the need to overcome all remaining feelings of enmity between the two peoples. Prosperity, he was saying, was a great warmer of hearts and hearths, and to this self-evident truth Kelderek felt safe in nodding assent. Then, pausing, Elleroth gazed downwards, as though deliberating with himself. He swirled the remains of his wine round and round his cup, but waved aside the attentive soldier who, misunderstanding, stepped forward to refill it; and a few moments later gave him leave to go. As the man went out, Elleroth looked up with a smile and said, 'Well, Crendrik - or Kelderek Zenzuata, as Melathys tells me I ought to call you - you've given me a great deal to think about: or at all events I have have been thinking, and you have much to do with it.' been thinking, and you have much to do with it.'

Kelderek, at something of a loss but fortified by the Ikat wine, made no reply; yet was at least able to return his host's gaze with courteous expectancy and some degree of self-possession.

'One of our problems - and that not the least - is going to be first, establishing proper control over Zeray, and then developing this whole province. If you were ever right about one thing, Kelderek, it was when you spoke of the necessity of trade to the prosperity of ordinary people. Zeray is going to become an important trade route, bodi for Bekla and for Ikat. We couldn't monopolize it even if we wished, for the trade will have to come through Kabin as well and the Kabinese don't want to become independent of Bekla. So we're going to need someone to look after Zeray, preferably not a complete foreigner, but one who favours neither Bekla nor Ikat; someone who's keen on trade and understands its great importance.'

'I see,' said Kelderek politely.

'And then, of course, we really need someone with personal experience of the Telthearna,' went on Elleroth. 'You might not be aware of this, Kelderek, being so familiar with it yourself, but it's not everyone who knows how to pay the necessary attention and respect to the ways of a great river, its droughts and floods and fogs and currents and shoals - a river where a vital trade ferry crosses a swift and dangerous strait. That calls for experience, and knowledge that's become second nature.'

Kelderek drained his wine. His cup was wooden, of peasant workmanship, almost certainly turned, he thought, here in Tissarn. In the bowl, someone had taken a good deal of trouble over a very passable likeness of a kynat in flight 'Then, again, it would be highly desirable for this governor to have had some previous experience of ruling and exercising authority,' resumed Elleroth. 'Even with military help, Zeray's likely to be a tough business for a time, considering its present state and that of the whole province. And I think the appointment really calls for someone who knows something about fairly rough people at first hand -someone who's knocked about, as you might say, and knows how to rough it a bit himself. I doubt whether we'd find a land-owning aristocrat, or even a professional officer, prepared to take the job on. They almost all despise trade, and anyway who would be ready to leave land and estates, to go to Zeray? And what existing provincial governor would want to make the move? Difficult, Tan-Rion, isn't it?'

'Yes, sir,' said Tan-Rion. 'Very.'

'The place needs colonizing, too,' said Elleroth. 'Willing hands, that's going to be the great need. I suppose we ought to look for young people with nothing much to lose - people who need to be given a chance in life and aren't going to be too particular. It wouldn't be any good just dumping them down in Zeray, though; they'd find it too much for them, and only add to the criminal population. They'll need an eye kept on them by a kindly sort of governor who feels sympathetic and knows how to get something out of people that nobody else has much use for. Someone who's suffered a bit himself, I suppose. Dear me, it is is a problem. I really cannot imagine where we are likely to unearth a person who fulfils all these different requirements. Melathys, my dear, have you any notion?' a problem. I really cannot imagine where we are likely to unearth a person who fulfils all these different requirements. Melathys, my dear, have you any notion?'

'Oddly enough,' answered Melathys, her eyes bright in the lamplight, 'I believe I have. It must be clairvoyance - or else this excellent wine.'

'I will write to Santil-ke-Erketlis from Zeray,' said Elleroth, 'but I feel sure that he will accept my recommendation. Radu, my dear boy, it's time you were in bed; and Kelderek too, if I'm not presuming. You've both been ill and you look quite tired out. We ought tc start several hours before noon tomorrow, if we possibly can.'

58 Siristrou

'- this being now the commencement of the tenth day that we have been travelling westwards from the western borders of Your Majesty's kingdom, through some of the most inhospitable country I have ever seen. At first, while we remained close to the shore of the river Varin (which our guide calls, in his tongue, "Tiltharna") tiicre was forest and rocky scrubland - a continuation, in fact, of the kind of country found on Your Majesty's western borders, but wilder and, as far as we have seen, uninhabited. There are, of course, no roads and we ourselves did not come upon a single track. For much of the way we were obliged to dismount and lead the horses together with the pack-mules, so stony and treacherous was the ground. Neither did we see any craft upon the river; but this did not surprise us since, as Your Majesty knows, none has ever arrived in Zakalon from upstream. The guide tells us that below his country there lies a gorge (which he named Bercel), full of rapids and half-submerged rocks, so that it is not possible to travel thence to us by way of the river. That this man and his followers should have made the entire journey on foot, their nation being altogether ignorant of the use of horses, shows partly, I think, that this unknown country for which we are bound breeds a tough and resolute people and partly that the inhabitants - or some of them - must be most eager to develop trade with us.

'We forded two tributaries of the Varin, each - since we encountered both near the confluence - with some difficulty. Indeed, at the second crossing we lost a mule and one of our tents. That was the day before yesterday; and soon afterwards we left the forest wilderness and entered upon the desert through which we are now travelling. This is a country of thorn-scrub and fine, blowing sand bad going both for horses and mules - and of black rocks, which give it a forbidding appearance. There is a kind of flat-bodied, spiny-legged creature, something between a crab and a spider, about as big as a man's fist, which crawls slowly over the sand. It does no harm that I can perceive, yet I could wish that I had not seen it. Drinking-water of a sort we can get from the Varin, but it is sandy and warm, for the desert peters out into pools and flats and the true, flowing river is more or less inaccessible behind these. This country is said by our guide to form the southern extremity of a land called Deelguy so far as I can understand, a semi-barbarian kingdom of warrior-bandits and cattlc-thieves, living among forests and hill-valleys. Inhabited Deelguy, however, lies a good fifteen leagues to the north. The truth seems to be that this desert, being land that nobody wants, is allowed to remain in name part of the territory of the king of Deelguy, a monarch whose frontiers (and authority) are in any case vague in extent.

'Your Majesty will recall that when the man Tan-Rion, who is now our guide, managed to convey in audience with you that he came from a country beyond the Varin possessing resources for trade, Your Majesty's councillors, including, I admit, myself, found it hard to believe that such a country could exist without our prior knowledge. However, the difficulty of this journey, together with the circumstance that the inhabitants have succeeded only during the past year in establishing a reliable crossing of the Varin at a point within reach of Zakalon, now make this more credible to me: and in short, I have become convinced that, as you yourself said, this may well prove to be a land with resources worth our attention. Tan-Rion has described - if I have followed him - the mining both of iron and of several kinds of gems: also the carving of wood and stone - though into precisely what kinds of artefact. I confess I do not know. He has also talked of corn, wine and cattle. Much of the possible trade, I think, will have to await either the construction of a road, or else the development of a water-route. (It has not escaped me that it might later prove practicable to bring goods across the Varin and then to embark them again from some suitable point on this shore, below the rapids.) As to what we may barter, I have only to remind Your Majesty that apparently the entire country knows nothing of horses and that none of these people has ever seen the sea.

'As to their language, I am happy to say that I seem to be making some little progress. In fact there are, it appears, two languages in general use beyond the Varin; the first, called Beklan, being commoner in the northern parts while the second, Yeldashay, is spoken, more generally in the south. They have similarities, but I am concentrating on Beklan, in which I can now rub along after a fashion.' Writing they use very little and it seems to fascinate my soldier-instructor when I write down the sound of what he says. He tells me that it is but three years since the end of a civil war - something to do with the invasion of Bekla by a foreign tribe who apparently went in for slavery - I confess that I could not altogether make it out. But now they are at peace, and since relations between north and south have improved, the prospects for our embassage seem very fair, coming at the present time.

'Today we shall - if I have not been deceived - actually cross the Varin to a town from which it will be possible to travel inland to Bekla. I shall, of course, continue to keep Your Majesty informed Siristrou, son of Balko, son of Mereth of the Two Lakes, High Councillor of His Ascendant Majesty King Luin of Zakalon, glanced through the unfinished letter, gave it to his servant to pack with the rest of the baggage and made his way out of the tent to where the horses were picketed in a patch of scrub. Heaven only knew how or when the letter would get delivered anyway. It would, however, look well to have kept a fairly continuous record, as showing that he had the king and his interest constantly in mind. He had allowed himself a mention of the nasty drinking-water, though saying nothing of his disordered stomach and of the flux which he daily feared might turn to dysentery. A discreet suggestion of hardship would be more telling than too much detail. He would not mention his blood-blisters: and still less the nervous anxiety that grew upon him the further they travelled from Zakalon towards the unknown country on the other side of the river. Knowing the king's own hopes, he had taken care to express confidence in the prospects for trade. Indeed, these now seemed reasonable, and even if they turned out otherwise it would do no harm to have seemed initially hopeful of better things. In his heart, however, he wished that the king had not selected him to lead this expedition. He was no man of action. He had been surprised to be chosen and, disguising his misgivings as modesty, had enquired the reason.

'Oh, we need a detached, prudent man, Siristrou,' the king had answered, laying a hand on his arm and walking him down the length of the long gallery that overlooked the beautiful Terrace of the Bees. 'The last thing I want is to send some quarrelsome soldier or greedy young adventurer on the make, who'd only upset these strangers by trying to grab all he could for himself. That would be the way to get bad blood at the outset. I want to send a learned man with no craving for personal gain, someone who can make a detached assessment and bring back the truth. Do that, and I assure you that you won't be a loser by me. Those people, of whatever kind they are - things ought to be handled so that they can trust and respect us. By the Cat, they've sent far enough to find us! I don't want to see them merely exploited.'

And so, to the murmur of the bees in the golden rod, he had accepted his appointment.

Well, that was fair enough; and to give him his due, Luin was a man of just and sound judgment - if you like, a good king. The trouble lay, as usual, in giving practical effect to his excellent ideas. When it came to the point, quarrelsome soldiers and greedy young adventurers on the make would have been so much better at crossing wildernesses and deserts and would have felt so much less afraid than a detached, prudent councillor of forty-eight, a schoolman with a taste for metaphysics and the study of ethics. There'd be precious little in that line where he was going. The manners and customs of half-civilized peoples had a certain interest, to be sure, but this was ground which he had covered quite sufficiently as a younger man. Now, he was primarily a teacher, a student of the writings of the sages, perhaps even shaping to be a sage himself - if he survived. It was all very well for the king to say that he would not be a loser. He did not really need anything which the king had to give. Luin, however, was not a man whom one disobliged and it would not have been safe to thwart his wishes by refusal or even by seeming too hesitant.

'I don't so much mind being cut to pieces by barbarians,' he said aloud, slashing with his whip at a thorn-bush, 'I do do object to being object to being bored1 bored1 (slash),' (slash),' wearied'' wearied'' (slash), 'condemned to (slash), 'condemned to tedium' tedium' (slash) - (slash) - 'Sir?' said his groom, appearing from the picket-lines. 'Did you call?'

'No, no,' said Siristrou hastily, feeling self-conscious as he always did when caught talking to himself. 'No, no. I was just coming to see whether you're ready to start, Thyval. We're supposed to reach the crossing today, as I think I told you. I don't know how far it is, but I should prefer to reach the other side in daylight, so that we can get some idea of the place before darkness sets in.'

'Yes, sir, I reckon that's sense right enough. The lads are just getting their things together now. How about the mare, sir? Lead her with the mules?'

'You'll have to, if she's still lame,' answered Siristrou. 'Come and tell me as soon as you're ready.'

In fact they reached the east bank a little before noon, after no more than five hours' march. Upon setting out, they had at first struck almost due north, turning away altogether from the pools and flashes marking the southern confines of the desert and filling the broad, treacherous flat which comprised the shore of the river beyond. Tan-Rion, after struggling to be understood, at length took a stick and drew a plan on the ground. Pointing first to this and then south-westward over the sand, he managed to convey to Siristrou and his companions that in that direction the river made a great bend, so that its course half-encircled them, lying not only to the south but also to the west of where they now stood. Some way above the bend on his plan he scratched a line to represent their intended crossing; and once more pointed, this time north-westward, to show the direction in which it lay.

In these parts spring had not yet turned to summer, but nevertheless the day soon grew hot and the wind freshened enough to blow the sand about unpleasantly. Siristrou, trudging beside the lame mare, dropped his head, half-closed his eyes and, as the sand gritted between his teeth, tried to think about his metaphysics pupils in Zakalon. One had to count one's blessings. At least there was no lack of tepid water to wash the sand down. Tan-Rion was in excellent spirits at the prospect of return and led his men in singing Yeldashay songs. It was good, boisterous stuff, but hardly music to Siristrou's taste.

Suddenly he was aware - and felt pleased to have been the first to see them, for his eyes were not all they had been - of distant figures on the sand. He stopped and looked ahead more intently. The country, though still desert, was no longer flat. There were slopes and long, steep dunes, speckled with the shadows of the white stones lying on them, motionless and timeless in the sun as only desert hills can appear. At a point to the left was a cluster of huts - a kind of shanty town, raw and new in appearance; and it was here that the moving figures could be seen. Beyond, the ground fell away invisibly and there seemed to be a kind of reflected glitter in the air.

Through the still-more-distant horizon-haze - and he screwed up his eyes, but could see no better - there loomed a greenness which might be forest.

An hour later they halted on the left bank of the river and looked across to the town on the western side which Tan-Rion called Zeray. About them gathered a wonder-struck crowd of soldiers and Deelguy peasants, inhabitants of the shanty town and labour-force of the ferry on this bank. All evidently realized that these strangers had in truth come from a distant, unknown country, brought back by Tan-Rion, whom they had seen set out three months before. The shrill jabbering grew, and the shoving, and the pointing, and the exclamations of astonishment as it was grasped that the long-nosed beasts wore man-made harness and were obedient to men, like oxen.

Siristrou, determined to show no nervousness in the close-pressing hubbub, not one word of which he could understand, stood silently beside his horse's head, ignoring everything until Tan-Rion, approaching, requested him to follow and began literally beating his way through the crowd with the flat of his scabbard. They scattered, laughing and gabbling, like children, in a fear that was half pretence and half real, and then fell in behind the newcomers, dancing and chanting as Tan-Rion led the way to a larger hut which did duty for the Deelguy officers' quarters. He gave a single bang on the door and strode inside. Siristrou heard him shout a name and then, himself wishing to show detachment as the crowd once more closed round him, turned to gaze across the river at the town on the other side.

It lay beyond a strait of turbid, yellowish water about a quarter of a mile across and running, as far as he could judge, too swiftly in the centre for any craft. He watched a great, leafy branch go rocking downstream almost as fast as though it were sailing through the air. He could not see the lower end of the strait, but upstream, on the opposite side, the river bent back into a bay where he thought he could make out what looked like a graveyard among trees at the mouth of a creek. The town itself lay nearer, directly opposite him, filling a blunt promontory downstream of the bay. In all his life he had never seen a town with such an utterly God-forsaken appearance. It was clearly not large. There were several old houses, both of stone and of wood, but none of any size or of graceful or pleasing proportions. The newer houses, of which there seemed to be more than the old, both finished and half-finished, had a utilitarian, quickly-run-up look, and had certainly not been sited or designed in accordance with any plan. There was a number of trees, some thriving and some not, but clearly nothing like a public garden anywhere. Near the waterside, people - and even at this distance they looked oddly small people - were working on two nearly-completed, larger buildings, which looked like warehouses. In front of these stood a landing-stage and also, both in and beside the water, a complex of stout posts and ropes, the use of which he could not guess. The whole was framed in a grey sky and green, wild-looking country, dotted here and there with patches of cultivation.

Siristrou groaned inwardly and his spirits fell still further. It was worse than he had expected. Tan-Rion had struck him as an intelligent and reasonably cultivated man, the product at least of an ordered society with settled values. The town he was now looking at resembled something a giant's children might have thrown together with sticks and stones in play. Setting aside that it was a safe bet that no book or civilized musical instrument could be found from one end to the other, would he and his men be even safe in such a place? However, fear was unworthy of a metaphysician and High Councillor of Zakalon, and after all, his death would matter little - except, he thought bitterly, to his wife and children, the youngest a little girl of five whom he loved dearly. A big workman stepped forward and began to finger the cloth of his sleeve. He drew it away with a frown and the man laughed disconcertingly.

Tan-Rion reappeared at the door, followed by two men with heavy black moustaches and long hair, who were dressed and armed as though they were going to take part in a play as wandering bandits. Perhaps that was approximately right, thought Siristrou, except that this was no play. They stood looking him up and down, hands on hips. Then one spat on the ground. Siristrou returned their stare, considered smiling and offering his hand, decided against both and bowed coldly. At this, the one who had not spat also bowed, then laid an enormous, dirty hand on his shoulder and said, in what he recognized as excruciating Beklan, 'Ho, yoss, yoss! Nover mind! Nover mind!' And then, with great emphasis, shaking a forefinger, 'You - most - pay!'

Tan-Rion broke in, expostulating in an indignation too fast to be followed. 'Envoys,' Siristrou heard. 'Trade mission - important foreigners - not to be insulted.' And finally, more slowly and emphatically, so that he followed it fully, 'Lord Kelderek will pay you, if you insist. You can cross with us and see him.'

At this the two bandits shrugged their shoulders and conferred. Then one nodded and pointed, remarking, 'Furry roddy,' and both began to lead the way upstream, the native crowd trailing behind as before.

They left the shanty town and found themselves once more walking in the empty sand, but now along the waterline beside the river. Siristrou noticed how unnaturally straight and regular this waterline was, and saw also that the edge of the shore had been levelled and paved almost like a road - in some places with stones and elsewhere with thick, round, wooden billets, laid and trodden in side by side. There were numerous prints of ox-hooves. Pointing to these, he shook his head and smiled to Tan-Rion to convey his bewilderment, but the latter only nodded and smiled in reply.

They had not been going very long before they reached their destination. In slack water against the bank lay a flat raft of heavy logs topped with plank decking, some twelve or fourteen feet square and having a pointed bow or cut-water on the side facing out into the stream. There was no rail or parapet of any kind, but down the centre three thick, upright posts were fastened into the logs with wooden struts and crude iron brackets. Bolted to the top of each post was a hinged iron ring and through all three of these a stout rope ran the length of the raft. From the stern it continued to the shore, where it was secured to an iron bar driven into the ground. Before reaching this, however, it passed through a kind of pen or shuttering containing several free-ended stakes, round some of which it was hitched. A panel of this shuttering was open, and three men were straining as they twisted the stake inside to increase tension on the rope. Siristrou, watching as the dripping cable rose little by little out of the water beyond the raft and inched its way back through the rings, realized with something of a shock that it evidently stretched across and downstream to Zeray on the other side - not much less than three-quarters of a mile, as near as he could estimate. It was on this cable that their lives were about to depend. The raft was going to be warped across, with the force of the current at a highly acute angle behind it.

Thyval plucked at his sleeve. 'Excuse me, sir, do they reckon they're going to take us over on that there thing?'

Siristrou looked him in the eye and nodded slowly and gloomily, two or three times.

'Well, the horses won't stand for it, sir, and anyway there ain't the room for them.'

'Not just one horse, do you think, Thyval? These people know nothing whatever of horses and I'd like to arrive with one, if we can.'

'Well, sir, I'd chance it alone, but trouble is, if it's rough - and I reckon it looks real nasty out there - we're all crowded together and there's no rail nor nothing -'

'Yes, yes, of course,' said Siristrou hurriedly, finding the picture too much for his already wambling stomach. 'The best thing will be if you come with me, Thyval, and Baraglat here - you're not afraid, are you, Baraglat? - no, of course not, excellent fellow - and the rest will have to stay here with the horses until tomorrow. I'll come back - heaven knows how, against that current, but I will -and see to everything. Now about the baggage - how can we best divide it? - and some of Tan-Rion's men must be told to stay with ours - we can't leave our people alone with those bandit fellows -and they'll have to be given a hut for stabling - we won't stand for any nonsense - Tan-Rion, one moment, please -'

Metaphysician or no metaphysician, Siristrou was not lacking in decision and practical ability, and his men trusted him. There is much difference between being incapable of doing something and merely disliking having to do it, and King Luin had always been a good, though somewhat unorthodox, picker. In half an hour the baggage had been divided, Tan-Rion had acceded to demand and detailed three reliable Yeldashay, one of whom spoke Declguy, to remain with Siristrou's men and the horses; the Deelguy officers had been told what they were to provide in the way of quarters, and those who were to cross had embarked.

In addition to the travellers there was a crew of six Deelguy labourers, whose task was to stand shoulder to shoulder and haul on the rope. This they set about, chanting rhythmically behind their shanty leader, and the raft, sidling out almost directly downstream, came little by little into the central race.

For Siristrou the crossing was a most nerve-racking experience. Apart from the rope and its ring-crowned stanchions, beside which there was room for only the crew to stand, there was nothing whatever to hold on to as the heavy raft, with the current almost full astern, danced like the lid of a boiling pot. He crouched on the baggage, holding his knees and trying to set a reassuring example to his men, who were plainly terrified. Tan-Rion stood beside him, legs astride, balancing himself as the deck tilted and swung. The water poured across the planking as though from overturned buckets. What with the chanting, which was maintained steadily, and the ceaseless knocking and blitter-blatter of the river under the timbers, talk was possible only intermittently and by shouting. As they got well out, a cold wind began to throw up spray. Siristrou, soaked, slapped himself with his arms to keep from shivering, in case anyone should think he was afraid - which he was. Even after it had become plain that they were going to complete the crossing safely and suffer nothing worse than discomfort, he could not keep himself from biting his lip and tensing at every lurch as he watched the shores moving up and down on cither side, so horribly far away. One of the Zakalon party, a lad of sixteen, was sick but, with a boy's ashamed indignation, threw off Siristrou's comforting arm, muttering, 'I'm all right, sir,' between his chattering teeth.

'What is it they're singing?' Siristrou shouted to Tan-Rion.

'Oh, the shanty-man just makes it up - anything that keeps them going. Actually I have have heard this one before, I believe.' heard this one before, I believe.'

'Shardik a moldra konvay gow! gow!

chanted the leader, as his crew bent forward and took a fresh grip.

'Shar-dik! Shar-dikl Shar-dikl' responded the crew, giving two heaves.

'Shardik a lomda, Shardik a pronto!'

'Shar-dik! Shar-dik!'