Shardik (13 page)

There was no more room for the least doubt and all that he had done had been right. In an anguish of relief, in fear and awe, he prayed, ‘O Shardik, O my lord, accept my life. I,
Kelderek
Zenzuata
-1
am yours to command for ever, Shardik my lord!’

As his first shock began to subside, he saw
that
he had also been right in guessing that the bear was sick or injured. It was clearly sunk in a coma altogether different from the sleep of a healthy animal. And there was something else - something unnatural and disturbing - what? It was lying in the open certainly, but that was not all. Then he perceived. The trepsis vine grows quickly: it will grow across a doorway between sunrise and sunset. The bear’s body was covered here and there with trailing stems, with leaves and scarlet flowers. How long, then, had Shardik lain beside the pool without moving? A day? Two days? The hunter looked more closely, his fear turning to pity. Along the exposed flank, bare patches showed in the shaggy pelt. The flesh appeared dark and discoloured. But surely even dried blood was never so dark? He went a little forward down
the
slope of the pit. There was blood, certainly; but the wounds appeared dark because they were cover
ed - crawling - with torpid flie
s. He cried out in disgust and horror. Shardik the leopard-slayer, Shardik of the Ledges, Lord Shardik returned to his people after untold years - was lying fly-blown and dying of filth in a jungle pit of weeds!

‘He will die,’ he thought ‘He will die before tomorrow - unless we can prevent it. As for me, I will go down to help him no matter what the danger.’

He turned and ran back across the open ground, smashed his way noisily
through the belt of undergrowth
and raced on between the trees towards the place where the Baron had left him. Suddenly he felt himself tripped and fell sprawling with a jolt that left him dazed and winded. As he rolled over, gasping for breath, the floating lights before his eyes cleared to reveal the face of Bel-ka-
Trazet
, awry as a guttering candle
with
one staring eye for flame.

‘What now?’ said the twisted mouth. ‘Why do you run about making a noise like a goat in a market pen, you coward?’

‘… Tripped … my lord….* gasped
Kelderek
.

‘It was I who tripped you, you craven fool! Have you led the bear upon us? Quick, man, where is it?’

Kelderek
stood up. His face was cut and he had twisted his knee, but mercifully his wounded shoulder had escaped.

‘I was not running from the bear, my lord. I have found him -I have found Lord Shardik: but he may well be in the sleep of death. Where is the Tuginda?’

‘I am here,’ she said, from behind him. ‘How far away,
Kelderek
?’

‘He is close, saiyett - injured and very ill, so far as I can judge. He cannot have moved for over a day. He will die -‘

‘He will not,’ replied the Tuginda briskly. ‘If it is indeed Lord Shardik, he will not die. Come, lead us there.’

Halting on
the
edge of the pit,
Kelderek
pointed in silence. As each of his four companions reached the verge he watched them closely. Bel-ka-
Trazet
started involuntarily and then - or so it seemed - averted his eyes, as though actually fearful of what he saw.

If fear it was, he had recovered himself in an instant and dropped, like
Kelderek
, behind the cover of the weeds, whence he stared down into the pit
with
an intent, wary look, like that of a boatman scanning rough water ahead.

Melathys
barely looked down before raising her hands to either bloodless cheek and closing her eyes. Then she turned her back and sank to her knees, like a woman stricken to the heart by dreadful tidings.

Sheldra and
the
Tuginda remained standing on
the
verge. Ne
ither appeared startl
ed or made any move to conceal herself. The girl, impassive, had halted behind and a
little
to the left of her mistress, her feet apart, her weight on her heels, her arms hanging loosely at her sides. It was certainly not the posture of one who was afraid. For a few moments she stood looking down without moving. Then, raising her head with the air of one recalling herself to her proper business, she looked towards the Tuginda and waited.

The Tuginda’s hands were clasped together at her waist and her shoulders ro
se and slowly fell as she breath
ed. Her stance gav
e a curious impression of weightl
essness, as
though
she might actually be about to float down into the hollow. The poise of her head was alert as a bird’s; yet for all her eager tension she seemed no more afraid than the servant standing at her elbow.

Bel-ka-Trazet rose to his feet and the Tuginda turned and stared at him gravely. Kelderek remembered yet again how Melathys, two nights before, had gazed sil
ently
into the faces of the men who had stumbled their way to the Upper Temple; and how he himself had been in some way divined and selected. No doubt the Tuginda too possessed the power to perceive without asking questions.

After a few moments, turning away from Bel-ka-
Trazet
, the Tuginda said calmly, ‘Sheldra, you sec that it is Lord Shardik?’

‘It is Lord Shardik, saiyett,’ replied the girl, in a level tone of liturgical response.

‘I am going down and I wish you to come with me,’ said the Tuginda.

The two women had already descended
some yards when Keldere
k, coming to himself, started after them. As he did so
Bel
-ka-Trazet caught him by the arm.

‘Don’t be a fool, Kelderek,’ he said. ‘They’ll be killed. Even if they’re not, this nonsense need be no business of yours.’

Kelderek
stared at
him in astonishment. Then, with
out contempt, certainly, for this grey and ravaged warrior, but with a new and strange sense of having travelled beyond his authority, he answered, ‘Sir, Lord Shardik is close to death.’ Quickly inclining Ids head and raising his palm to his forehead, he turned and followed the two women down the steep slope.

The Tuginda and her companion had reached the floor of t
he hollow and were walking swiftl
y, with as
little
hesitation as the women with the lantern had walked into the fire: and Kelderek, since he judged it better not to leap or run for fear of rousing the bear, had not overtaken them before they stopped on the nearer side of
the
pool. The grass was damp underfoot and he guessed that it must be watered and the pool filled from the same underground source as that which fed the brook on the open slope beyond.

The pool, knee-deep and perhaps a little broader than a man could jump, was fringed all along the further side by the scarlet trumpet-flowers, half-hidden among their masses of palmate, hairy leaves. There was a foetid smell of filth and sickness and a buzzing of
flies
. The bear had not moved and they could hear its laboured breadiing - a sodden, injured sound. The muzzle was dry, the pelt staring and lustreless. A glimpse of the bloodshot white of one eye showed beneath the half-closed lid. At close quarters its size was overwhelming. The shoulder rose above Kelderek like a wall, beyond which could be seen only the sky. As he stood uncertain the bear, without opening its eyes, lifted its head for a moment and then wearily let it fall again. Even so a man in grave illness tosses and moves, seeking relief, but then, finding in movement nothing but wretchedness and futility, desists.

Without thought of danger
Kelderek
took half a dozen splashing steps across the pool, plucked the cloth from his wounded shoulder and, soaking it in the water, held it to the bear’s muzzle and moistened its tongue and lips. The jaws moved convulsively and he, seeing that the great beast was
trying
to chew the cloth, soaked it once more and squeezed the water into the side of its mouth.

The Tuginda, bending over the bear’s flank with a frond of green fern in one hand, had evid
ently
got rid of the
flies
in one of the wounds and was examining it. This done, she began searching over the whole body, sometimes parting the pelt with her fingers, sometimes using the stalk of the frond as a probe;
Kelderek
guessed that she was removing flies’ eggs and maggots, but her face showed no disgust, only the same care and deliberation that he had seen while she dressed his shoulder.

At length she paused and beckoned to him where he stood in the pool. He scrambled up the b
ank, the hollow stems of the tre
psis bursting under his feet with a soft ‘Nop! Nop!’ Feeling for a hold, he inadvert
ently
grasped for a moment the curved claws of the off fore-paw, each as long as his hand and thick as his finger. He r
eached the top, stood beside She
ldra and looked down at the body.

The bear’s belly and flank were marked with long, singed streaks, black or dirty grey in colour, as though scored with a burning torch or hot iron bar. In several places the pelt, four fingers thick, had been burned away altogether and the bare flesh, withered and contracted into furrows and proud ridges, was split by cracks and open sores. Here
and there hung a cluster of bluebottl
es’ eggs or a maggot that the Tuginda had overlooked. Several of the wounds were putrescent, oozing a glistening, green matter that had discoloured the shaggy hair and clot
ted it into sti
ff, dry spik
es. A pulpy mess of yellow, with
ering trepsis showed that the helpless creature had urinated where it lay. No doubt, thought
Kelderek
, the hind-quarters too were fouled and full of maggots. But he felt no revulsion - only pity and a determination at all costs to play his part in saving Shardik’s life.

‘There is much to be done,’ said the Tuginda, ‘if he is not to die. We must work quickly. But first, we will go back and speak
with
the Baron and I will tell the priestess what we require.’

As they made their way up
the
side of the pit she said to Kelderek, ‘Take heart, clever hunter. You had the skill to find him and God will grant us the skill to save him, never fear.’

‘It was no skill of mine,
saiyett
-‘ he began, but she motioned him to silence and, turning her head, began speaking in low tones to Sheldra. ‘ - need both
tessik
and
theltocarna
he heard, and a few moments later,’- if he recovers we must attempt the Singing.’

Bel
-ka-Trazet was standing where Kelderek had left him. Mel
a
thys, white as the moon, had risen to her feet and was standing with eyes fixed on the ground.

‘There are many wounds,’ said the Tuginda, ‘and several
are
flyblown and poisoned. He must have fled from the fire across the river — but of that I was already sure when
Kelderek
first told us his tale.’