'Better, saiyett,' he answered. 'The pain is much less.' 'Good, for we are going to need you.'

Although the Tuginda had kept her departure secret, someone besides Melathys had evidently known what she meant to do and loaded her canoe accordingly, for she was now dressed, as though for hunting, in a tunic of stitched and over-lapping leather panels, with leather greaves and sandals, and her wet hair, coiled about her head, was bound with a light, silver chain. Like the girls, she was carrying a knife at her belt.

'We will not go up the shore of Ortelga, Melathys,' she said. 'The shendrons would see us and the whole town would be talking within the hour.

'How then, saiyett? Are we not making for the western end of the island?'

'Certainly. But we will cross to the further side of the river and then return.'

Their journey, thus extended, lasted almost until evening. As they crossed, the current carried them downstream, especially when they were obliged to give way to avoid the heavy, floating debris still drifting here and there. By the time they had reached the desert of the further bank, with its scorched, ashen smell, the girls were tired. There was little or no true shade and they were forced to rest as best they could, partly in the canoes and partly in the river itself - for they could all swim like otters. Only Melathys, preoccupied and silent, remained in her place, apparently indifferent to the heat They ate selta selta nuts, goat's cheese and rose-pale tendrionas. The long afternoon was spent in working slowly upstream along the dead bank. It was hard going, for every reach was obstructed inshore with half-burned trees and branches, some submerged, others spreading tangles of twigs and leaves across the surface. There was a continual drift of fine, black grit through the air and the sides of the canoes above the water-line became coated with a froth of ash suspended in the slack water. nuts, goat's cheese and rose-pale tendrionas. The long afternoon was spent in working slowly upstream along the dead bank. It was hard going, for every reach was obstructed inshore with half-burned trees and branches, some submerged, others spreading tangles of twigs and leaves across the surface. There was a continual drift of fine, black grit through the air and the sides of the canoes above the water-line became coated with a froth of ash suspended in the slack water.

The sun was nearing the horizon when the Tuginda at last gave the word to turn left and head out once more across the current. Kelderek, who knew the difficulty of judging the ever-changing currents of the Telthearna, realized that she was evidently an experienced and skilful waterman. At all events her judgment now was excellent, for with little further effort on the part of the weary girls, the river carried them across and down so that they drifted almost exactly upon the tall, narrow rock at the western point of Ortelga.

They waded ashore, dragging the canoes between them through the reeds, and made camp on dry ground among the soft, fibrous root-tangles of a grove of quian. It was a wild shore; and as their fire burned up - so that the shapes of the tree-trunks seemed to waver in its heat - and outside, the sunset faded from the expanse of the river, Kelderek felt again, as he had felt two days before, the unusual restlessness and disturbance of the forest around them.

'Saiyett,' he ventured at last, 'and you, my lord Baron, if I may be allowed to advise you, we should let no one wander away from the fire tonight. If any must do so, let them go to the shore but nowhere else. This place is full of creatures that are themselves strangers, lost and savage with fear.'

Bel-ka-Trazet merely nodded and Kelderek, afraid of having said too much, busied himself in rolling a log to one side of the fire and scraping it clean to make a seat for the Tuginda. On the further side the girl Sheldra was setting up the servants' quarters and allotting them their duties. She had said nothing whatever to Kelderek throughout the day and he, unsure what his place might be, was about to ask her whether he could be of use, when the Tuginda called him and asked him to take the first watch.

As it fell out, he remained on guard half the night. He felt no desire to sleep. What sort of sentries would they make, he asked himself - dicsc silent, self-contained girls, whose lives had been enclosed so long by the solitude of Quiso? Yet he knew that he was merely trying - and failing - to deceive himself; they were reliable enough and this was not the reason for his wakefulness. The truth was that he could not be free - had not been free all day - from the fear of death and the dread of Shardik.

Brooding in the darkness, fresh misgivings came upon him as he thought first of the High Baron and then of Melathys. Both felt fear - of this he was sure; fear of death no doubt, but also - and it was in this that they differed from himself - fear of losing what each already possessed. And because of this fear there lay in both their hearts an actual hope, of which neither would speak before the Tuginda, that he had told them false and that this search would end in nothing: for to each it seemed that even if what he had told them were the truth, he or she stood to gain nothing from it.

It occurred to him - troubling his heart and heightening still further his sense of loneliness - that the High Baron was actually unable to grasp what to himself was plain as flame. There came into his mind the recollection of an old, miserly trader who had lived near his home some years before. This man had amassed a competence by a lifetime of petty, hard bargaining. One night some swaggering young mercenaries, returned to Ortelga from a campaign in the service of Bekla and reluctant to call an end to a drunken frolic, had offered him three great emeralds in return for a jar of wine. The old man, convinced of some trick, had refused them and later had actually boasted of how he had shown himself too sharp for such rogues.

Bel-ka-Trazet, thought Kelderek, had spent years in making Ortelga a fortress, and looked now to reap his harvest - to grow old in safety behind his pits and stakes, his river moat and his shendrons along the shore. In his world, the proper place for anything strange or unknown was outside. Of all hearts on Ortelga, perhaps, his was the least likely to leap and blaze at news of the return of Shardik, the Power of God. As for Melathys, she was already content with her role as priestess and her island sorcery. Perhaps she hoped to become Tuginda herself in time. She was obeying the Tuginda now merely because she could not disobey her. Her heart, he felt sure, shared neither the Tuginda's passionate hope nor the Tuginda's deep sense of responsibility. It was natural, perhaps, that she should be afraid. She was a woman, quick-witted and young, who had already attained to a position of authority and trust. She had much to lose if a violent death should strike her down. He recalled how he had first seen her the night before, asserting her dismaying power on the flame-lit terrace; discerning, among the night-travellers from Ortelga, the presence of the secret lying unspoken in his heart and in none other. At the memory he was overcome by a keen pang of disappointment. The truth was that the incomparable news which he had brought she would have preferred not to learn.

'They are both far above me,' he thought, pacing slowly across the grove, his ears full of the incessant croaking of the frogs along the shore. 'Yet I - a common man - can see plainly that each is clinging - or trying to cling - to that which they fear may now be changed or swept away. I have no such thoughts, for I have nothing to lose; and besides, I have seen Lord Shardik and they have not.

Yet even if we find him again and do not die, still, I believe, they will try by some means or other to deny him. And that I could never do, come of it what might.'

The sudden, harsh cry of some creature in the forest recalled him to the duty he had undertaken, and he turned back to his watch. Crossing the clearing once more, he threaded his way among the sleeping girls.

The Tuginda was standing beside the fire. She beckoned, and as he approached looked at him with the same shrewd, honest smile which he had first seen at the Tereth stone, before he had known who she was.

'Surely, Kelderek, your watch is long over?' she asked. 'If another were to take my place, saiyett, I could not sleep, so why should I not watch?' 'Your shoulder hurts?'

'No - my heart, saiyett.' He smiled back at her. 'I'm ill at ease. There's good cause.'

'Well, I'm glad you're awake, Kelderek Play-with-the-Children, for we need to talk, you and I.' She moved away from the sleepers and he followed her until she stopped and faced him in the gloom, leaning against a quian trunk. The frogs croaked on and now he could hear the waves lapping in the reeds.

'You heard me say to Melathys and the Baron that we ought to act as though your news were true. That was what I said to them: but you yourself, Kelderek, must know this. If I were unable to perceive the truth that flows from a man's heart into his words, I would not be the Tuginda of Quiso. I am in no doubt that it is indeed Lord Shardik that you have seen.'

He could find no reply and after a little she went on, 'So - of all those countless thousands who have waited, we are the ones, you and I.'

'Yes. But you seem so calm, saiyett, and I - I am full of fear -ordinary, coward's fear. Awe and dread I feel indeed, but most, I am afraid simply of being torn to pieces by a bear. They are very dangerous creatures. Are you not afraid too?'

She replied to his question with another.

'What do you know of Lord Shardik?'

He thought for a time and then answered, 'He is from God - God is in him - he is the Power of God - he departed and he is to return. Nay, saiyett, one thinks he knows until another calls for the words. Like all children, I learned to pray for that good night when Shardik will return.'

'But there is such a thing as getting more than we bargain for.

Many pray. How many have really considered what it would mean if the prayers were granted?'

'Whatever may come of it, saiyett, I could never wish that he had not returned. For all my fear, I could not wish that I had never seen him.'

'Nor I, for all mine. Yes, I am afraid too; but at least I can thank God that I have never forgotten the real, the true work of the Tuginda - to be ready, in all sober reality, night and day, for the return of Shardik. How often, by night, have I walked alone on the Ledges and thought, "If this were the night - if Shardik were to come now - what should I do? " I knew I could not but fear, but the fear is less -' she smiled again - 'less than I feared. Now you must know more, for we are the Vessels, you and I.' She nodded slowly, holding his eyes among the shadows. 'And what that means we shall learn, God help us, and in His good time.'

Kelderek said nothing. The Tuginda folded her arms, leaned back once more against the tree and went on.

'It is more than a matter of the people falling flat on their faces - much, much more.' Still he said nothing.

'Do you know of Bekla, that great city ?'

'Of course, saiyett.'

'Have you ever been there?'

'I? Oh no, saiyett. How should a man like me go to Bekla? Yet many of my skins and feathers have been bought by the factors for the market there. It is four or five days' journey to the south, that I know.'

'Did you know that long ago - no one knows how long - the people of Ortelga ruled in Bekla?' ' We ' We were the rulers of Bekla?' were the rulers of Bekla?'

'We were. Of that empire which stretched nordi to the shores of the Telthearna, west to Paltesh and south to Sarkid and Ikat-Yeldashay. We were a great people - fighters, traders and, above all, builders and craftsmen - yes, we who now skulk on an island in thatched sheds and scratch for a living with ploughs and mattocks on a few pebbly miles of the mainland.

'It was we who built Bekla. To this day it is like a garden of sculpted and dancing stone. The Palace of the Barons is more beautiful than a lily pool when the dragon-flies hover over it. The street of the builders was full, then, of rich men's messengers from far and near, offering fortunes to craftsmen to come and work for them. And those who condescended to go travelled swiftly, for there were broad, safe roads to the frontiers.

'In those days, Shardik was with us. He was with us as the Tuginda is with us now. He did not die. He passed from one bodily home to another.'

'Shardik ruled in Bekla?'

'No, not in Bekla. Shardik was worshipped and Shardik blessed us from a lonely, sacred place on the borders of the empire, to which his suppliants journeyed in humility. Where was that, do you think?'

'I cannot tell, saiyett.'

'It was Quiso, where the shreds of Shardik's power still cling like rags on a windy hedge. And it was the craftsmen of Bekla who made of the whole island a temple for Shardik. They built the causeway from the mainland to Ortelga - the causeway that is now broken -for the bands of pilgrims, after they had assembled on the mainland shore among the Two-Sided Stones, would be brought first to Ortelga and thence make the night-journey to Quiso, just as you made it last night Our craftsmen, too, levelled and paved the terrace where Melathys met you; and over the ravine in front of it they made the Bridge of the Suppliants, a span of iron slender as a rope, by which all strangers had to cross or else go back. But that bridge is fallen this many a year - fallen long before we were born, you and I. Behind the terrace, as you know, lies the Upper Temple, which they cut out of the rock. You did not see the interior, for you were in darkness. It is a high chamber, twenty paces square, hewn throughout thirty years, flake by flake out of the living rock. And more than all this, they made -'

'The Ledges!'

'The Ledges: the greatest artifact in the world. Four generations of stone-masons and builders worked for more than a hundred years to complete the Ledges. Those who began it never saw the end. And they paved the shores of the bay below and built the dwellings for the priestesses and the women.'

'And Shardik, saiyett? How was he housed?'

'He was not. He went where he would. He roamed free - sometimes among the woods, sometimes on the Ledges. But the priestesses hunted for him, fed him and looked after him. That was their mystery.'

'But did he never kill?'

'Yes, sometimes he would kill - a priestess in the Singing, if such was God's will, or perhaps some over-bold suppliant who had approached him rashly or provoked him in some way. Also, he knew the truth in men's hearts and could tell when one was secrctly his enemy. When he killed he did so out of his own divining - we did not set him on to kill. Rather it was our mystery and our skill to tend him so that he did not. The Tuginda and her priestesses walked and slept near Shardik - this was their art, the wonder that men came to see, the wonder that gave Bekla its luck and mastery.' 'And was he mated?'

'Sometimes he was mated, but it did not have to be so. Whom God made Shardik was a matter of signs and omens, of His will rather than of human intent. Sometimes, indeed, the Tuginda would know that she must leave Quiso and go into the hills or the forest with her girls, to find and bring back a mate for Shardik. But again, he might live until he seemed to die, and then they would go to find him reborn and bring him home.'

'How?'

'They had ways of which we still know - or hope that we know, for they have been long unused - both drugs and other arts by which he could be controlled, though only for a little time. Yet none of these was sure. When the Power of God appears in earthly form, he cannot be driven here and there like a cow, or where would be the wonder and the awe? Always, with Shardik, there was uncertainty, danger and the risk of death: and that at least is one thing of which we can still be sure. Shardik requires of us all that we have, and from those who cannot offer so much freely, he may well take it by force.'

She paused, gazing unseeingly into the dark jungle, as though remembering the power and majesty of Shardik of the Ledges and his Tuginda long ago. At last Kelderek asked, 'But - those days came to an end, saiyett?'

'They came to an end. The full story I do not know. It was a sacrilege too vile to be fully known or spoken. All I can tell is that the Tuginda of that time betrayed Shardik and betrayed the people and herself. There was a man - no, not fit to be called a man, for who but one lost to God would dare to contrive such a thing? - a wandering slave-trader. She became - with him ah!' - and here the Tuginda, overcome, stood silent, her body pressed back against the trunk of the quian, shuddering with disgust and horror. At lcngdi, recovering herself, she went on, 'He - he slew Shardik; and many of the sacred women also. The rest he and his men took for slaves, and she who had once been called Tuginda fled with him down the Telthearna. Perhaps they came to Zeray - perhaps to some other place - I cannot say - it does not greatly matter. God knew what they had done and He can always afford to wait.

'Then the enemies of Bekla rose up and attacked it and we were left without heart or courage to fight them. They took the city. The High Baron died at their hands and what was left of the people fled over the plain and the Gelt mountains to the shores of the Telthearna, for they hoped that if they fled as suppliants to these islands, they might save at least their lives. So they crossed to Ortelga and broke up the causeway behind them. And their enemies left them there, to scratch in the earth and scavenge in the forest, for they had taken their city and their empire and it was not worth their while to attack desperate men in their last stronghold. Quiso too they left them, for they feared Quiso, even though it had become an empty, defiled place. Yet one thing they forbade. Shardik was never to return; and for a long time, until there was no more need, they kept watch to make sure of this.

'The years passed and we became an ignorant, impoverished people. Many Ortelgan craftsmen drifted away to sell their skill in richer places; and those who were left lost their cunning for lack of fine materials and wealthy custom. Now, we venture as far on the mainland as we dare and trade what resources we have - rope and skins - for what we can get from beyond. And the barons dig pits and post shendrons to keep themselves alive on a spit of jungle that no one else requires. Yet still the Tuginda, on her empty island, has work - believe me, Kelderek, she has work - the hardest. Her work is to wait. To be ready, always, for Shardik's return. For one thing has been plainly foretold, again and again, by every sign and portent known to the Tuginda and the priestesses - that one day Shardik will return.'

Kelderek stood for some time looking out towards the moonlit reeds. At length he said, 'And the Vessels, saiyett? You said that we were the Vessels.'

'I was taught long ago that God will bless all men by revealing a great truth through Shardik and through two chosen vessels, a man and a woman. But those vessels He will first shatter to fragments and then Himself fashion them again to His purpose.'

'What does this mean?'

'I don't know,' answered the Tuginda. 'But of this you can be sure, Kelderek Zenzuata. If this is indeed Lord Shardik, as I, like you, believe, then there will be good reason why you and none other have been chosen to find and to serve him - yes, even though you yourself cannot guess what that reason may be.'

'I am no warrior, saiyett. I -'

'It has never been foretold that Shardik's return will necessarily mean that power and rule is to be restored to the Ortelgans. Indeed, there is a saying, "God does not do the same thing twice." '

'Then, saiyett, if we find him, what are we to do?'

'Simply wait upon God,' she replied. 'If our eyes and cars are open in all humility, it will be shown us what we are to do. And you had better be ready, Kelderek, and submit yourself with a humble and honest heart, for the accomplishment of God's purpose may well depend upon that He can tell us nothing if we will not hear. If you and I are right, our lives will soon cease to be our own to do with as we will.'

She began to walk slowly back towards the fire and Kelderek walked beside her. As they readied it she clasped his hand. 'Have you the skill to track a bear?' 'It is very dangerous, saiyett, believe me. The risk -' 'We can only have faith. Your task will be to find the bear. As for me, I have learned in long years the mysteries of the Tuginda, but neither I nor any woman alive has ever performed them, nor ever seen them performed, in the presence of Lord Shardik. God's will be done.'

She was whispering, for they had passed the fire and were standing among the sleeping women.

'You must get some rest now, Kelderek,' she said, 'for we have much to do tomorrow.'

'As you say, saiyett. Shall I wake two of the girls? One alone may give way to fear.'

The Tuginda looked down at the breathing figures, their tranquillity seeming as light, remote and precarious as that of fish poised in deep water.

'Let the poor lasses rest,' she said. 'I will take the watch myself.'

10 The Finding of Shardik

As the sun rose higher and moved southward round the hill, the watery glitter from the reed-beds, reflected into the trees along the shore, was sifted upwards through the translucent leaves, to encounter at last and be dimmed by the direct rays penetrating among the higher branches. A green, faint light, twice-reflected, shone down from the under-sides of the leaves, speckling the bare ground between the tree trunks, placing the faintest of shadows beside fallen twigs, glistening in tiny points upon the domes of pebbles. Dappled by the continual movement of the sunlit water, the leaves seemed stirred as though by a breeze. Yet this apparent disturbance was an illusion: there was no wind, the trees were still in the heat and nothing moved except the river flowing outside. 68 Kelderek was standing near the shore, listening to the sounds from the jungle inland. He could tell that since his adventure of two days before - even since their landing the previous night - the confusion in the forest had lessened and the agitation of movement subsided. There were fewer cries of alarm, fewer stardings of birds and flights of monkeys through the trees. No doubt many of the fugitive creatures had already fallen prey to others. Of those surviving, most must have begun to move eastwards down the island in search of food and safety. Some, probably, had taken to the water again, making for the Telthearna's southern bank on the opposite side of the strait. He had seen prints here and there in the mud and narrow passages broken through the reeds. The thought came to him, 'Suppose he he should be gone? Suppose should be gone? Suppose he he is no longer on the island?' is no longer on the island?'

'We would be safe then,' he thought, 'and my life, like a stream after a cloudburst, would return between the banks where it ran two days ago.' He turned his head towards the Tuginda who, with Bel-ka-Trazet, was standing a little way off among the trees. 'But I could not become once more the man who fled from the leopard. Two days - I have lived two years! Even if I were to know that Shardik will kill me - and like enough he will - still I could not find it in my heart to pray that we should find him gone.'

The more he considered, however, the more he felt it probable that the bear was not far away. He recalled its clumsy, weary gait as it made off through the bushes and how it had winced in pain when it scraped its side against the tree. Huge and fearsome though it was, there had been something pitiable about the creature he had seen. If he were right and it had been hurt in some way, it would be more than dangerous to approach. He had better put out of his mind for the moment all thought of Shardik the Power of God, and address himself to the daunting task - surely sufficient to the day, if ever a task was - of finding Shardik the bear.

Returning to the Tuginda and the Baron, he told them how he read the signs of the forest. Then he suggested that for a start, they might go over the ground which he had covered two days before, and so come to the place where he had first seen the bear. He showed them where he had come ashore and how he had tried to slip unseen past the leopard and then to walk away from it. They made their way inland among the bushes, followed by Melathys and the girl Sheldra, Since they had left the camp Melathys had spoken scarcely a word. Glancing behind him, Kelderek saw her drawn face, very pale in the heat, as she lifted a trembling hand to wipe the sweat from her temples. He felt full of pity for her. What work was this for a beautiful young woman, to take part in tracking an injured bear? It would have been better to have left her in the camp and to have brought a second girl from among the servants; one dour and stolid as Sheldra, who looked as though she would not notice a bear if it stood on her toe.

As they approached the foot of the hill he led the way through the thicker undergrowth to the place where he had wounded the leopard. By chance he came upon his arrow and, picking it up, fitted the notch to the string of the bow he was carrying. He drew the bow a little, frowning uneasily, for he disliked it and missed his own. This was the bow of one of the girls - too light and pliant: he might have saved himself the trouble of bringing it. He wondered what that surly fool Taphro had done with his bow. 'If ever we get back,' he thought, 'I'll ask the Baron to order it to be restored to me.'

They went on cautiously. 'This is where I fell, saiyett,' he whispered, 'and see, here are the marks the leopard made.'

'And the bear?' asked the Tuginda, speaking as quietly as he.

'He stood below, saiyett,' replied Kelderek, pointing down the bank, 'but he did not need to reach up to strike the leopard. He struck sideways - thus.'

The Tuginda gazed down the extent of the steep bank, drew in her breath and looked first at Bel-ka-Trazet and then back at the hunter.

'Are you sure?' she asked.

'The leopard, as it crouched, was looking upwards into the bear's face, saiyett,' replied Kelderek. 'I can see it still, and the white fur beneath its chin.'

The Tuginda was silent, as though trying to imagine more clearly the gigantic figure that had reared itself, brisding and snarling, above the level of the bank on which they stood. At length she said to Bel-ka-Trazet, 'Is it possible?'

'I would think not, saiyett,' replied the Baron, shrugging his shoulders.

'Well, let us go down,' she said. Kelderek offered her his arm, but she gestured to him to turn back for Melathys. The priestess's breathing was quick and irregular and she leaned hard on him, hesitating at every step. When they reached the foot of the bank she set her back against a tree, bit her lip and closed her eyes. He was about to speak to her when the Tuginda laid a hand on his shoulder.

'You did not sec the bear again after it left you here?'

'No, saiyett,' he replied. 'That's the way it went - through those bushes.' He went across to the tree against which the bear had scraped its injured side. 'It has not returned this way.' He paused a few moments and then, trying to speak calmly, asked, 'Am I to track it now?'

'We must find the bear if we can, Kelderek. Why else have we come?'

'Then, saiyett, it will be best if I go alone. The bear may be close and above all I must be silent.'

*I will come with you,' said Bel-ka-Trazet.

He unclasped the chain at his throat, took off his fur cloak and laid it on the ground. His left shoulder, like his face, was mutilated - humped and knotted as the exposed root of a tree. Kelderek thought, 'He wears the cloak to conceal it.'

They had gone only a few yards when the hunter perceived the tracks of the leopard, partly trodden out by those of the bear. The leopard, he supposed, had been injured but had tried to escape; and the bear had pursued it. Soon they came upon the leopard's body, already half-devoured by vermin and insects. There were no signs of a struggle and the bear's trail led on through the bushes to emerge in open, stone-strewn woodland. Here, for the first time, it was possible to see some distance ahead between the trees. They halted on the edge of the undergrowth, listening and watching, but nothing moved and all was quiet save for the chittering of parakeets in the branches.

'No harm in the women coming this far,' said Bel-ka-Trazet in his ear: and a moment later he had slipped noiselessly back into the undergrowth.

Kelderek, left alone, tried to guess which way the bear might have taken. The stony ground showed no tracks, however, and he felt himself at a loss. The Baron did not return and he wondered whether perhaps Melathys might have fainted or been taken ill. At last, growing weary of waiting, he counted a hundred paces to his right and then began to move slowly in a wide half-circle, examining the ground for the least sign - tracks, claw-marks, droppings or shreds of hair.

He had completed perhaps half this task without success when he came once more to the edge of a belt of undergrowth. It did not extend far, for he could glimpse open ground beyond. On impulse he crept through it and came out at the top of a grassy slope, bordered on each side by forest and stretching away to the northern shore of the island and the Telthearna beyond. Some little way from where he stood was a hollow - a kind of pit about a stone's throw across. It was surrounded by bushes and tall weeds, and from somewhere in the same direction came a faint sound of water. He might as well go and drink, he thought, before returning. To recover the bear's tracks, now that they had lost them, would probably prove a long and arduous business.