A Far Sunset

TWELVE

The expedition, the religious progress, was almost over. So far it had taken eight days and would be completed on the ninth, when the oracle and god-king returned to Baya Nor. The three girl children were now safely in the arms of Oruri. The second had been sacrificed in a manner identical with that of the first at the temple of Baya Ver and the third at the temple of Baya Lys.

Poul Mer Lo had learned not to faint at the spectacle of a living heart being tom from the body of a child. It was, he had been told, at the best rather impolite. At the worst it could be construed as an unfavourable omen.

Now, on the eighth night shortly after the ceremonial death-in-life feast that followed the sacrifice, he lay resdessly on his bed in one of the guest cells of Baya Lys. He was wondering why Enka Ne had invited/commanded his presence on the journey. To accompany the oracle and the god-king on a religious progress was a privilege normally reserved only for those who had distinguished themselves gready in war or worship.

Suddenly he became aware that someone else was in the cell. He sat up quickly and saw by the light of the small oil lamp a half-starved youth in a tattered samu squatting patiently on the floor. There was a covered bundle by his side.

‘Oruri greets you,’ said Shah Shan, rising.

‘The greeting is a blessing,’ answered Poul Mer Lo mechanically.

‘I sorrow if I have disturbed your meditations.’

Poul Mer Lo smiled. ‘My meditations were such that I welcome one who interrupts them.’

Shah Shan indicated the bundle at his feet. ‘My friend, of whom I think you know, bade me bring you some things that

were found in the forest. He was of the opinion that they would have some meaning for you.’ He untied the piece of cloth and displayed the contents of the bundle.

There was one plastic visor, two atomic grenades and a battered transceiver.

Poul Mer Lo was instantly transformed into Paul Marlowe who, gazing at the odd collection, felt a stinging mistiness in his eyes.

‘Who found these things?’ he managed to say at last.

‘The priests of Baya Lys.’

‘They have found nothing else?’

‘Nothing … Except…’ Shah Shan hesitated. ‘My friend told me that it has been reported that a great blackened hole exists in the forest where formerly there was nothing but trees and grass. These objects are certainly very curious. Do they have any significance?’

‘They belonged to those who travelled with me in the silver bird.’ Paul Marlowe picked up one of the atomic grenades. ‘This, for example, is a terrible weapon of destruction. If I were to move these studs in a certain way,’ he indicated two tiny recessed levers, ‘the whole of Baya Lys would be consumed by fire.’

Shah Shan was unperturbed. ‘It is to be hoped,’ he remarked, ‘that, receiving the guidance of Oruri, you will not cause this thing to happen.’

Paul smiled. ‘Be assured that I will not cause it to happen, Shah Shan, for it would encompass my own death also.’

The boy was silent for a while. ‘The domain of Baya Nor is bounded by one day’s march to the north,’ he said at last. ‘Beyond that is land occupied by a barbaric people. It may be that your friends have become the friends of these people … Or they may have been killed, or they may have wandered and died in the forest… How many travelled with you?’

‘There were twelve of us altogether.’

‘And three came to Baya Nor.’

‘Three were taken prisoner by the people of Baya Nor.’

The boy shrugged. ‘It matters not how we describe the event. Nine still remain shrouded by mystery.’

‘These people of the forest—how are they called?’

‘They call themselves the Lokh. We call them Lokhali. They speak a strange tongue.’

‘Is it possible to meet and talk with the Lokhali?’

Shah Shan smiled. ‘Possible, but not advisable. And it is likely that the conversation would be brief. These people live for war.’

‘Perhaps if Enka Ne were to send presents, and ask for news…’

Shah Shan stiffened. ‘Enka Ne does not treat with the Lokhali. So it has always been. So it will always be. Doubtless in the end Oruri will grant them a terrible affliction … Poul Mer Lo, my friend is puzzled. The oracle has pronounced that you are a great teacher and that because of you greatness shall be bestowed upon Baya Nor.’

‘I do not know that I am a great teacher. So far my teaching has been very small.’

‘Then, my lord, you must make it big,’ said Shah Shan simply, ‘for the oracle speaks only the truth … My friend is rich in glory but not rich in time. He wishes to see the fruits of your teaching before he answers the call.’

‘Shah Shan, your friend must not expect too much. The essence of teaching is to learn first and then teach afterwards.’ ‘Permit me to observe, Poul Mer Lo, that the essence of teaching is to be understood … It was many days before you learned to speak Bayani, was it not?’

‘Many days indeed.’

‘What, then, is the tongue you would speak with your own kind?’

‘It is called English.’

‘I wish to speak this Ong Lys. For then I might more perfectly understand the thoughts of Poul Mer Lo.’

‘Shah Shan, what is the use? There is no one but I who can speak this tongue.’

‘Perhaps, my lord, that is why I wish to learn it… I am a poor and insignificant person, having nothing to offer you. But my friend would be greatly pleased.’

Paul Marlowe smiled. ‘It shall be as you wish, Shah Shan. Your friend is either very clever or very simple.’

Shah Shan looked at him in surprise. ‘You do not know which?’ he asked. ‘But why cannot my friend be both?’