A Far Sunset

TWENTY-FOUR

With the knowledge that she was pregnant, Mylai Tui had become happy; and her happiness had grown in direct proportion to the increase in the size of her belly. Not even the death of Bai Lut and the burning of the school could diminish it greatly; these were things about which she cared only because they were things about which Paul Marlowe cared.

She was happy not only with the simple feminine satisfaction of biological fulfilment. She was happy with the uniqueness of bearing a son—obviously it was to be a son, for a girl would not kick so lustily—for one who had ridden on the wings of a silver bird from a land beyond the sky. Fortunate was she whom Oruri had chosen to be the vessel of the seed of him who had the gift of greatness.

She looked at Paul with pride. He was taller than any in Baya Nor; and though his skin, despite much exposure to the sun, was still sadly pale and far from the desired black of the Bayani of ancient lineage, he was very much a man—as his thanu and vigorous muscles testified. Such a one must surely beget a son in his own image. And then Mylai Tui would be a woman whom all other women could only envy.

Her happiness and her anticipatory daydreams, however, were short-lived. They came to an end on the evening that Paul told her of his determination to make the journey to the Temple of the White Darkness.

‘Paul,’ she pleaded in bad English, ‘you cannot do this thing. Are you so sad that only death will end the sadness?’

‘It has nothing to do with sadness,’ he explained patiently. ‘There are mysteries which I must try to unravel. And it seems that the mountain may at least provide another clue … I shall go as soon as I can find hunters to go with me.’

‘You will not find any,’ she said, lapsing into Bayani. ‘There are none so foolish in Baya Nor as to wish to venture into the bosom of Oruri before they are called.’

Laughing, he, too, spoke in Bayani: ‘Courage, pride and greed—these are the things that will give me the hunters I want. The journey will appeal to their courage. Their pride will be challenged because I, a stranger, am not afraid to make this journey. And the twenty copper rings that I shall offer to each man will be sufficient to overcome any falterings of courage … Besides, there is the weapon I brought with me and which I was permitted to keep by Enka Ne. It lies, now, wrapped in musa loul and buried in a box of hard wood. When I show the hunters its power, they will have no doubts.’

‘You will have to pass the Lokhali, lord. The people of Baya Nor do not fear the Lokhali—but neither do the Bayani pass through their country, unless it be as an army.’

‘Yes, we shall have to pass the Lokhali. But, Mylai Tui, with the weapon I brought from the other side of the sky, we shall be as an army.’

‘My lord, the weapon did not prevent you from entering the donjons of Baya Nor.’

‘It did not.’ Again he laughed. ‘But who may question the purpose of Oruri?’

Mylai Tui was silent for a moment or two. Then she said: ‘None have ventured to the mountain and returned.’

‘There are those who have seen the mountain and returned.’ She gave him a look of sad resignation. ‘Lord, I know there is much about you that I cannot understand and much that I will never understand. I am proud to have lain with you, and I am proud to have received at last the gift of your loins. If it pleases my lord to seek Oruri before Oruri does the seeking, then I will endeavour to accept this thing … But stay, my lord, stay long enough to look upon the face of your son.’

He took her hands. ‘Mylai Tui, I know it is hard for you to understand. But my head is sorely troubled by many questions. This thing will not wait. I must go as soon as I may, and I must see what can be seen. But I will return. I will return because I greatly desire to lie with you, as I will lie with you this night. And I will return because I desire greatly to gaze upon the harvest of the joining of our flesh … Now let there be an end. The decision is made. Zu Shan seeks the hunters, and I doubt not that they will be found.’

Suddenly, she brightened. ‘It is possible, is it not, that Enka Ne may learn of this madness and prevent it?’

Paul gave her a penetrating look. ‘I respect the power of Enka Ne. Let the god-king respect mine. Otherwise, many in Baya Nor may have cause to grieve.’

Three days later, in the early evening, when the nine moons rode high and swiftly through a cloudless sky, Zu Shan brought four hunters to the house of Poul Mer Lo. The usual courtesies were exchanged, and the men squatted in a semicircle on the verandah while Mylai Tui supplied them with kappa spirit.

‘Paul,’ said Zu Shan in English, so that the Bayani would not understand, ‘there are the men we should take. There were others attracted by the payment you offered. But these are the best. Two of them I already knew, and the others are known to them. They are among the best hunters in Baya Nor. But more than that, they have much faith in Poul Mer Lo, the teacher. And one of them, Shon Hu, has even seen the mountain. He has hunted very far, and he says he knows the way.’

‘Are they afraid?’

Zu Shan gave a thin smile. ‘Yes, Paul, they are afraid—as I am.’

‘Good. Men who are afraid live longer. You have done very well, Zu Shan—better than I thought.’

He turned to the Bayani, who were politely sipping their kappa spirit as though no one had spoken.

‘Hunters,’ said Poul Mer Lo in Bayani, ‘I journey far. It may be that there will be danger on this journey, for I am told that the Temple of the White Darkness is not a place where men go who wish to count the great number of their grandchildren.’

The hunters laughed, a little self-consciously.

‘But I think,’ went on Poul Mer Lo, ‘that we shall be among those who return; for if men desire something greatly, they can often accomplish it. Also, we shall carry a terrible weapon which I have brought with me for this purpose from the land beyond the sky.’

‘Lord,’ said the man who had been identified as Shon Hu, ‘the journey is one thing but the Lokhali is another.’

Poul Mer Lo rose, went into the house and returned with his sweeper rifle.

‘Your darts and blow-pipes, your tridents and clubs are excellent weapons,’ he said. ‘But how many Lokhali can you stop with them if we are attacked?’

Shon Hu looked at his companions. ‘Lord, we are only men—good men, perhaps, but no more than men. Perhaps, if Oruri smiled, we would carry three times our own number of Lokhali with us into his bosom.’

Poul Mer Lo pushed the breeder button of his atomic rifle. About two hundred metres away there was a small group of trees looming in the twilight.

‘Observe!’ said Poul Mer Lo. He sighted, pressed the trigger and swept the tops of the trees with the rifle. After two or three passes, smoke began to rise. After five passes, the trees burst into flame—a noisy, crackling bonfire.

‘Lord,’ said Shon Hu at length, ‘you have shown us a fearful thing.’

‘It is,’ agreed Poul Mer Lo, ‘a most fearful thing. Your job, Shon Hu, will be to protect me. My job will be to use this weapon. If we are attacked by the Lokhali, many of them will need to explain to Oruri why they wished to obstruct the passing of Poul Mer Lo and his companions…’ He gazed round the semi-circle. ‘Nevertheless, I know our journey is still a difficult and dangerous one. If any of you feels that he has spoken rashly, let him now stand and go forth. We who remain will pray for the good fortune of his children and his children’s children.’

No one moved.

Silently and sadly, Mylai Tui brought more kappa spirit.