Shardik (50 page)

The herald ceased at length and silence fell. Sheldra touched his hand and, recollecting himself, he began to utter to Elleroth, in imperfect
Bekla
n, the words which he had prepared.

‘
Elleroth
, formerly Ban of Sarkid, you have heard
the
recital of your crime and the sentence passed upon you. That sentence, which must now be carried out, is a merciful one, as becomes
the
power of Bekla and the divine majesty of Lord Shardik. But in further token of that mercy and of the might of Lord Shardik, who has no need to. fear his enemies, I now grant you consent to speak if you so desire: after which we wish you a courageous, dignified and painless death, calling upon all to witness that cruelty is no part of our justice.’

Elleroth remained silent so long that at length
Kelderek
looked up, only to encounter once more his stare and realize that the condemned man must have been waiting for him to do this. Yet still he could feel no anger, even while he once more dropped his eyes and
Elleroth
began to speak in
Bekla
n.

His first words came high and thin, with little gasping pauses, but he quickly checked himself, resuming in a strained but firmer tone, which gathered strength as he continued.

‘Beklans, delegates of the provinces, and
Ortelga
ns. To all of you assembled here today, in th
is northern cold and fog, to see
me
the
, I am grateful for hearing me speak. Yet when a dead man speaks you must look to hear nothing but plain words.’

At
this
moment Shardik came once more to the bars, rising on his hind legs dire
ctl
y behind Elleroth and looking int
ently
out across the hall. The glow from the brazier threw an amber light up the
length
of his shaggy pelt, so that
Elleroth
appeared to be standing before some high, firclit doorway fashioned, larger than life, in the shape of a bear. Two or three of the soldiers looked over their shoulders, flinching, and were checked by a low word from
their
officer; but Elleroth neith
er turned his head nor paid them attention.

‘I know that there are those here who would not hesitate to acknowledge their friendship with me if they did not know that to do so would avail me nothing; but I fear that some of you are secretly disappointed and perhaps - a few - even ashamed to sec me, the Ban of Sarkid, led here to
the
as a criminal and conspirator. To you I say that what may seem a shameful death is not felt as such by me. Neither Mollo, who is dead, nor I, who am about to die, broke any oath given to our enemies. We told no lies and used no treachery. The man I killed was a soldier, armed and on duty. The worst that can be said of us is that a poor girl, watching in this hall, was struck down and badly injured, and for this, though I did not strike the blow, I am most sincerely sorry. But I must tell you, and tell you all plainly, that what Mollo and I undertook was an act of war against rebels and robbers: and against a superstitious, cruel and barbarous cult, in the name of which evil deeds have been committed.’

‘Silence!’ cried
Kelderek
, above the murmurs and muttering from behind him. ‘Speak no more of this, Lord
Elleroth
, or I shall be forced to bring your speech to an end.’

‘It will end soon enough,’ replied Elleroth. ‘If you doubt it, bear-magician, ask the inhabitants of Gelt; or those who can remember that decent, honest fellow
Gel-Ethlin
and his men — ask them. Or you can seek nearer home, and ask those who built gallows for children on the slopes of Crandor. They will tell you how soon your
Ortelga
ns can stop
the
breath that a man - or a child - needs for speaking. Nevertheless, I
will
say no more of this, for I have said what I intended, my words have been heard and there is another matter of which I must speak before I end. This is a thing which concerns only my own home and family and that house of Sarkid of which I am about to cease to be-the head. For that reason I will speak in my own tongue — though not for long. From those who will not understand me, I beg for patience. From those who understand, I beg their help after my death. For even though it may seem the least likely of possibilities, it may be that somewhere, somehow, the chance will be granted to one of you to help me when I am dead, and to mend as bitter a sorrow as ever darkened the heart of a father and brought grief to an old and honourable house. Many of you will have heard the lament called the Tears of Sarkid. Listen, then, and judge
whether they may not fall for me
, as for the Lord Deparioth long ago.’

As Elleroth began speaking in Yeldashay, Kel
derek wondered how many of those
in the hall understood his words. It had been an error to allow him to address
them
. Yet in
Bekla
this privilege had always been accorded to any nobleman condemned to die, and to have withheld it would have undone much of the effect of granting him a merciful death. However he had gone about the business, he reflected bitterly, nevertheless a man like
Elleroth
, with his self-possession and aristocratic assurance, would have been bound to make his mark, and to contrive to show the Ortelgans as harsh and uncivilized.

Suddenly his attention was caught by an alteration in
the
tone of the voice. Looking up, he was astonished at the change that had come over
the
proud, haggard figure before him. Elleroth, with a look of the most earnest supplication, was leaning forward, speaking in a tone of passionate intensity and gazing from one to another about the hall. As Kelderek looked at him in amazement, he saw tears in his eyes. The Ban of Sarkid was weeping: yet clearly not for his own misfortune, for here and there, at his back,
Kelderek
could hear answering murmurs of sympathy and encouragement. He frowned
, mustering his smattering of Ye
ldashay in an effort to understand what
Elleroth
was saying.

misery no different from that suffered by many common men,’ he made out; but lost the thread and could not distinguish the next words. Then ‘cruelty to the innocent and helpless’ — ‘long searching to no avail -‘ After an interval he discerned ‘— the heir of a great house —’ and then, spoken with a sob, ‘— the vile, shameful Ortelgan slave-trade.’

To his right
Kelderek
saw Maltrit, the captain of the guard, lay his hand on the hilt of his sword, looking quickly round as the murmuring grew throughout the hall. He nodded to him and gestured quickly with his hand twice, palm upward. Maltrit picked up a spear, hammered the butt on
the floor and shouted ‘Silence! Silence!
‘ Once more
Kelderek
forced himself to look Elleroth in the eye. ‘You must needs have done now, my lord,’ he said. ‘
We
have been generous to you. I ask you now to repay us with restraint and courage’

Elleroth
paused, as though collecting himself after his passionate words, and Kelderek saw return to his grey face the look of one striving to master fear. Then, in a tone in which controlled hysteria mingled oddly with stinging contempt, he said in
Bekla
n, ‘Restraint and courage? My dear riparian witch-doctor, I fear I am short on both - almost as short as you. But a
t least I have one advantage - I
haven’t got to go any further. You see, it’s going to be such a terribly long way for you. You can’t realize how far. Do you reme
mber how you came up from the Telth
earna, all slippity-slop for a spree? You came to Gelt - they remember it well, I’m told - and then you went on. You went to the foothills and laid about you in the twilight and the rain. And then your meaty boys smashed the Tamarrik Gate -do you remember that, or did you perhaps fail to notice what it
looked like? And then, of course, you got mixed up in a war with people who quite unaccountably felt that they didn’t like you. What a long, long way it’s been! Thank goodness I shall be having a rest now. Cut
you
won’t, my dear waterside wizard. No, no — the sky will grow
dark, cold rain will fall and all trace of
the
right way will be blotted out. You will be all alone. And
still
you will have to go on. There will be ghosts in the dark and voices in the air, disgusting prophecies coming true I wouldn’t wonder and absent faces present on every side, as the man said. And still you will have to go on. The last bridge will fall behind you and the last lights will go out, followed by the sun, the moon and the stars; and
still
you will have to go on. You will come to regions more desolate and wretched than you ever dreamed could exist, places of sorrow created entirely by that mean superstition which you yourself have put about for so long. But still you will have to go on.’

Kelderek stared back at him, frozen by the intensity and conviction of his words. His own premonition had return
ed upon him, closer now, its outl
ine more distinct - a sense of loneliness, danger and approaching calamity.

‘The thought makes me feel quite cold,’ said Elleroth, controlling his trembling with an effort. ‘Perhaps I should warm myself for a short spell before the man
with
the chopper interrupts these joyous, carefree moments.’

He turned quickly. Two paces took him to the side of the brazier. Maltrit stepped forward, uncertain of his intention yet ready to forestall any irregular or desperate act; but Elleroth merely smiled at him, shaking his head as easily and graciously as though declining the advances of Hydraste herself. Then, as Maltrit stood back, responding instinctively
to his smooth and authoritative manner, Elleroth
,
with
a selective air, deliberately plunged his left hand into the brazier and drew out a burning coal. Holding it up in his fingers, as though displaying for
the
admiration of friends some fine jewel or crystal artifact, he looked once more at
Kelderek
. The appalling pain had twisted his face into a sickening travesty of relaxed good humour and his words, when they came, were distorted - grotesque mouthings, an approximation to speech which was nevertheless clear enough to be understood. The sweat ran from his forehead and he shook with agony, yet still he held up
the
live coal in his hand and aped horribly the manner of one at case among his comrades.

‘You see - bear king — you holding live coal —’ (Kelderek could smell burning flesh, could see his fingers blackening and supposed that he must be burned to the bone: yet still, transfixed by the white eyes writhing in his face, remained wh
ere he stood.) ‘How long you a’l
e go on? Burn you up, hobble pain, carrying burning fire.*

‘Stop him!’ cried Kelderek to Maltrit, Elleroth bowed.

‘No need - ‘blige
you all. Come now,
little
pain’ - he staggered a moment, but recovered himself — ‘
little
pain - nothing some ‘flic
ted by ‘telgans, ‘sure you. Let’s make haste.’

With assumed carelessness
and without looking behind him, he tossed the coal high over his shoulder, waved his hand to the crowd in the hall, strode quickly to the bench and knelt down beside it. The coal, fanned brighter by its course through the air, flew steeply over the bars and fell into the straw close to where Shardik
had paused a moment in his restl
ess prowling. In seconds a little nest of fire had appeared, the small, clear flames between the blades of straw seeming, at first, as still as those trailing mosses
that
grow among the branches of trees in a swamp. Then they began to climb, fresh smoke joined that already in the foggy air and a crackling sound was heard as the fire spread across the floor.

With an unnatural, high-pitched cry of fear, Shardik sprang backwards, arching the huge ridge of his back like a cat facing an enemy. Then, in panic, he fled across the breadth of the hall. Blindly, he ran full tilt against one of the columns on the opposite side, and as he recoiled, half-stunned, the wall shook as though from the blow of a ram.

The bear got up, rocking dizzily, looked about it and then once more ran headlong from the now fast-spreading fire. It struck the bars with its full weight and remained struggling as
though
among
the
strands of a net. As it rose once more on its hind legs, one of the ties running from the bars to the wall was pressed against its chest and in frenzy it beat at it again and again. The bolted end of the tie pulled out of
the
wall, dragging with it
the
two countersunk stones into which it was morticed.

At this moment
Kelderek
heard overhead a heavy, grinding movement and, looking up, saw a patch of light in the roof slowly narrowing before his eyes. Staring at it, he suddenly realized that the great beam above him was moving, tipping, slowly turning like a key in a lock. A moment more and one end, no longer supported by
the
wall, began to scrape and splinter its way down the stonework like a giant’s finger.

As the beam fell,
Kelderek
flung himself across the floor, away from the bars. It dropped obliquely across the line of the ironwork, smashing down a quarter of its length to a depth of
three
or four feet. Then it settled, one end suspended in that iron tangle and the other canted against
the
opposite wall, and the bars bent and drooped beneath it like blades of grass. Slowly, the whole mass of wreckage continued to subside downwards. Behind it, the fire still spread through the straw and the air grew thicker with smoke.

Shouting and tumult filled the hall. Many were looking round for the nearest way out, others trying to keep order or to call their friends together. At
the
doors the soldiers stood uncertainly, waiting for orders from their officers, who could not make themselves heard above the din.