Kelderek cut him short. "What do you want with me, then?"
"The people are not Bel-ka-Trazet. They know that Lord Shardik has returned to them. I have seen decent, simple men in Ortelga weeping for joy and hope. They are ready to rise against Bel-ka-Trazet and to follow me."
"To follow you? Follow you where?"
In the solitude of the forest, Ta-Kominion dropped his voice still lower.
"To Bekla, to regain what is ours."
Kelderek drew in his breath. "You're seriously planning to attack Bekla?"
"With the power of Lord Shardik we cannot fail. But Kelderek, will you join us? They say you have no fear of Shardik and can persuade him as you will. Is that true?"
"Only in part. God has made of me a vessel let down into Shardik's well and a brand lighted at his fire. He suffers me; nevertheless, to be near him is always to be in danger."
"Could you bring him to Ortelga?"
"Neither I nor anyone can drive Lord Shardik. He is the
Power of God. If it is so ordained, he will come to Ortelga. Yet how can he pass the Dead Belt? And what is it that you mean to do?"
"My own men are ready to strike now. They will make him a path through the Belt: along this shore--that's the easiest place. Only let Lord Shardik come and every man will join us--yes, join you and me, Kelderek! As soon as we are sure of Ortelga, then we'll march at once on Bekla, before they can learn the news."
"You make it sound easy, but I tell you again--I cannot bring Lord Shardik here and there like an ox. He acts by the will of God, not by my will. If you had seen him--faced him--you would understand."
"Let me face him, then. I will stand before him and beg him to help us. I'm not afraid. I tell you, Kelderek, all Ortelga is eager only to serve him. If I entreat him, he will give me a sign."
"Very well. Come with me. You shall speak with the Tuginda and face Lord Shardik for yourself. But if he gives you death, Ta-Kominion--"
"He will give much where much is offered. I have come to offer my life. If he takes it, why then I shall not live to be disappointed. If he gives it back to me, I will spend it in his service."
For answer Kelderek got to his feet and began to lead the way through the undergrowth. The night was still so dark, however, that he found it all but impossible to tell in which direction the camp lay. Feeling before them, they stumbled repeatedly; once Ta-Kominion nearly put out his eye on a pointed branch that pierced him under the lower lid. Kelderek could not tell how far they had gone or whether they might not have wandered in a circle. At last he glimpsed, still some distance off, the glow of the fire. He made toward it cautiously, expecting at any moment to be challenged by one of the girls, or even to come upon Lord Shardik himself, prowling in his angry hunger. But they met no one and at length, looking about him in perplexity, he realized that they had already reached the outskirts of the camp. They walked on side by side over the open ground, strewn with cut branches and garments, where the women had been sleeping, and so up to the untended remains of the fire.
Kelderek's perplexity became bewilderment. The place was deserted. Apparently there was no one whatever in the camp. He called, "Rantzay! Sheldra!" Receiving no reply, he shouted, "Where are you?"
The echo died and for some moments he could hear only the frogs and the rustle of the leaves. Then he was answered.
"Lord Kelderek!" It was Rantzay's harsh voice from the direction of the shore. "Come quickly, my lord!"
He had never heard her so much excited. He began to run and as he did so realized that it was growing light--light enough, at all events, to enable them to see their way to the river. As they approached he could make out the canoes and closer at hand the cloaked shapes of the women crowding together, some apparently up to their knees in the water. All were pressing forward, pointing, moving their heads one way and another and peering through the reeds. Beside the tall figure of Rantzay he recognized that of the Tuginda and ran toward her.
"What is it, saiyett? What has happened?"
Without speaking she took his arm and led him down into the shallows, among the reeds taller than his head. Between these, something had smashed a path and down this narrow lane he gazed out toward the Telthearna beyond. Over it the light was increasing, a windless, twilit gray without shadows. The far trees were motionless, the flowing water smooth. Still the Tuginda waded forward and still he followed, wondering at her haste. Waist-deep, feet groping, they reached the outer edge of the reed belt and to right and left the extent of the river opened before them. The Tuginda, one hand on his shoulder, pointed downstream to where a wide ripple like an arrowhead was breaking the calm surface. At its apex, the only living thing to be seen in all the expanse of trees and water, Shardik was swimming, his muzzle thrust upward at the sky as the current carried him toward Ortelga.
16 The Point and the Causeway
WITHOUT AN INSTANT'S HESITATION Kelderek flung himself forward into the deep water. Immediately--almost before his shoulders had broken the surface--he felt the current turning him bodily and sweeping him downstream. For a few moments he struggled, afraid as he found himself helpless against it. Then, awkwardly, he began to swim, bending back his neck to keep his head above water, splashing with his arms and bobbing up and down. Looking ahead, his water-blurred eyes could still make out the shape of the bear like a rick swept away in a flood.
Soon he realized that some freak of the river was carrying him toward the center, where the flow was swifter yet. Even if he should happen to touch upon a random spit or submerged bank, such as formed and dissolved continually in the strait, he would not be able to stand up in a current of this strength. Already he was beginning to tire. He tried to look about him for a floating branch or anything to which he might cling, but could see nothing. His feet, trailing deep, encountered some tangled, loomlike thing, intersticed and pliant, and as he jerked himself free, pain flickered up his leg and was gone as quickly as a spurt of flame. An instant later he spun around in an eddy, swallowed water, sank and, as his head came up again, found that he was facing upstream and still drifting on. The women among the reeds were now far-off, indistinguishable figures, appearing and disappearing as his eyes rose and fell. He tried to turn and face ahead, and as he did so heard across the water a sputtering call--"Kelderek! Inshore!"
Ta-Kominion, swimming behind him, was about halfway between himself and the shore which they had left. Although he appeared to be holding his own more easily than Kelderek, it was nevertheless clear that he had little breath for talking. He flung up one arm and gestured sharply toward the reeds, then fell once more to his task. Kelderek saw that he was trying to overtake him, but could not because of the slower current inshore. Indeed, the gap between them was widening. Ta-Kominion raised his head and seemed to shout again, but Kelderek could hear nothing except his own hard breathing and the splash and gurgle of the water. Then, as he bobbed upward for a moment, he caught faintly the words, "--shore before the point!"
As he grasped the baron's meaning, fear overcame him. He was being carried along the southeastern shore of Ortelga at a speed as fast as that of a man walking. As long as he remained in midstream he could not count on drifting against the submerged causeway that ran from the eastern point to the mainland. More likely he would be carried over or through it, pummeled down by this very current in which he was now struggling for his life. And if he were carried below Ortelga, he could not hope to come ashore alive.
He began to kick out and to clutch at the surface, panting and tiring himself still further. How far was it now to the point? The right, mainland bank seemed actually closer than that of Ortelga: yet how could that be? Then he recognized the place. The reeds had been cut back, exposing a sheet of open water beyond which, on the island shore, stood the zoan tree. Tall and far-off it looked--much farther than when last he had sighted it, returning to Ortelga on his raft. He thought of the shendron, perhaps looking out at this very moment through the silvery fronds. But the shendron, for all his vigilance, would never catch sight of him. He was nothing but flotsam, a dot moving in the gray light and gray water of early morning.
By God, but there was something else, though, that the shendron could not have failed to see! A little behind, but directly between himself and the zoan tree, Shardik was drifting like a cloud through a pale sky. There was no commotion of the water around him and the long wedge of his jaw lay half-submerged, the nostrils just clear, like those of an alligator. As the hunter watched, the bear turned his head for a moment and seemed to be staring toward him.
At this, desperate though he was, Kelderek felt a return of that brave impulse upon which he had thrown himself into the river to follow Shardik. Shardik had called him for some purpose of his own. Shardik had power to preserve and raise up those who gave him all, doubting nothing. If only he could reach Shardik, Shardik would save him, Shardik would not let him drown. As the zoan tree dropped out of sight he set himself, with the last of his strength, to swim inshore across the current. Slowly, very slowly,
he began to converge upon the bear. As he came by degrees into the slacker stream the distance between them lessened, until at last they were floating side by side and only a few yards apart.
He could do no more. He was exhausted, conscious of nothing but the deep water beneath him, the fear of drowning and, somewhere far out of reach, the presence of Shardik. He could see neither sky nor shore. "Accept my life, Lord Shardik. I regret nothing I did for you." Losing the power of thought, sinking, no longer breathing: arms flung upward, fingers clawing at the black, fainting dark; and now, in death, he felt once more the shaggy hair, the flank of Shardik, just as he had felt it when he walked beside him at nightfall into the forest and slept in the safety of his presence.
The darkness burst apart. He caught his breath and drew in the air. Sunlight was glittering on the water and sparkling in his eyes. He was clutching Shardik's flank, hanging by his clenched hands, tossing up and down, while beside him the great off-hind leg trod water as fast as mill wheels strike. Scarcely able at first to realize what had happened, he knew only that he was alive and that he could still get ashore before the town was left behind.
The bear had not turned its head or tried to shake him off, and indeed seemed unaware of him. He was puzzled by its indifference. Then, as his head and sight grew clearer, he sensed that it was intent upon something else, some purpose of its own. It was turning shoreward, to the left, and swimming more strongly. He could not see over the ridge of its back, but as it turned still further, land appeared beyond its shoulder. A moment later it was wading. He let his feet drop, touched bottom and found himself standing, submerged almost to his shoulders, on firm stones.
They came ashore together, the bear and the man, close to the now-cold cooking fires, the cluster of storage huts and servants' quarters lying shoreward of the Sindrad. Shardik, in his eagerness, thrust the water aside, splashing and shouldering through the shallows as though in pursuit of prey. Suddenly Kelderek saw the way of it. The bear was hungry--famished--desperate for food at any cost. Something had turned it back from the Dead Belt, but nevertheless it must have smelled food while lying in the forest and this was why it had plunged into the river. He remembered what Bel-ka-Trazet had said before leaving the Tuginda, "If it begins to plague Ortelga, I promise you I will have it killed."