Seahorse in the Sky

CHAPTER TWELVE

KEEP MARUR WAS no more than about fifteen kilometres to the north-west. When Absu had more or less recovered from his wounds—and by terrestrial standards his powers of recovery were amazing—Russell and Anna escorted him home. Russell had wanted to make the journey with Absu by himself. He was worried that there might be other surprises in store for the occupants of the Erewhon Hilton. The People of the River, for example, might turn up in force; and from reports they seemed pretty tough customers. So Russell was against reducing garrison strength more than was vital.

But Anna was firm. Someone, she claimed, would have to go with him, if only to keep him company on the homeward journey. Absu himself was quick to point out that his people would provide an escort for the return journey. But, being unused to arguing with women and noting that Russell as lord of his sept did not do too well at the task, he accepted defeat with as much grace as was possible for a warrior lord in a male-orientated culture. That is to say, he ignored her henceforth and confined all his remarks to Russell.

During the last few days of his stay with the terrestrials, Absu mes Marur became more convinced than ever that he was in the company of magicians. He was introduced to the wonders of electric lighting, wrist watches, modern plumbing, cameras, binoculars and the amazing fact that it was possible for a woman to walk before a man.

He remained considerably puzzled by Russell’s insistence that the terrestrials came from a separate world which they, too, called Earth. He was also puzzled by their apparent ability to speak both the high and low Gren Li tongues fluently, though their lips made strange shapes. Most of all, he was puzzled by their unwarlike demeanour and attitudes. Eventually he came to the conclusion that such people probably fought with magic rather than with honest weapons, and therefore congratulated himself that he had entered the bond with the lord of this curious sept. If the sept lords could not meet in combat, it followed logically that their people could not meet in combat also. This was annoying in one respect and comforting in another.

Peace was not a thing to be endured lightly, but at least it was preferable to joining battle with those who could make bright white light appear at will or take food from a hollow piece of metal.

During his absence, Russell appointed John Howard to act as his deputy. If he did not return, Howard was to assume permanent responsibility for the group unless he were deposed by a majority vote in favour of someone else.

Early in the morning, before they left for Keep Marur, an interesting and comforting discovery was made by Simone Michel, who was on stores duty. She found that packs of cigarettes had reappeared in the supermarket. Evidently, the punishment for curiosity—if, indeed, it was a punishment and not some oversight—was ended.

The journey itself was uneventful. It took most of the day, not only because Absu was still too weak to travel quickly but because he lost his way once or twice, adding a few extra kilometres. In the end he seemed to rely chiefly upon sniffing.

When he asked Absu what scent he was following, Russell learned that he was tracking back along paths recently taken by pulpuls, either running wild or being ridden. It did not matter which. The wild pulpuls usually herded close to the keep, and ridden pulpuls would clearly be going either to or from the keep.

Russell himself sniffed whenever he saw Absu dilating his nostrils. But he could smell nothing—perhaps because he did not know what scent he was trying to pick up.

The pulpul, it appeared, was as important to the warrior peoples of the Upper and Lower Kingdoms of Gren Li as the buffalo was to the American Indian and the reindeer to the Laplanders. It provided personal transport and was also a beast of burden. Its body yielded meat and its hide yielded clothing. Its guts were used to manufacture ropes and bow strings. Its horns could be worked into utensils, ornaments, spoons, needles and knives. Its hooves were a reputed aphrodisiac, its tail was a charm against evil spirits and its nose, dried and cured, offered comfort to a woman in time of the warrior’s absence.

Keep Marur stood on a slight rise that was perhaps two hundred metres above the surrounding terrain. It was not far from a small stream to which the women had already worn a well-trodden path in their daily quest for fresh water. The keep itself was no more than a wooden tower enclosed by a high stockade. The top of the keep, which was perhaps twenty-five metres above ground level, was serrated rather in the manner of a primitive fortress. It was manned by a couple of armed sentinels. They noticed the approach of Absu and his companions while they were still more than two kilometres away, and a small party was sent out to investigate.

The three warriors comprising the party from the keep rode their pulpuls through the tall grasses at a terrific rate, skilfully avoiding small trees and other obstacles in their path. Absu, aware of their approach, began to walk with a more springy step and a more imperious manner.

Until the keep had been sighted, he had been content to march between Anna and Russell. But now he took the lead, walking three or four paces ahead of his companions.

Anna was uneasy. “I think a spiritual change is coming over our alien friend,” she said softly to Russell. “Perhaps it would have been better if we had left him to finish the journey by himself. What if these people decide it would be a good thing to have extra manpower?”

Russell held her hand and exuded more confidence than he was feeling. “Absu has a very potent sense of honour,” he reminded her. “Besides, he and I are supposed to be blood brothers, or something like that. I don’t think for a moment that he would be prepared to break his bond,”

“You are too trustful, Russell—a typical western weakness.”

“And you are too cynical—a typical eastern reaction…” He grinned. “That is why we are so good for each other.”

The possibility of further conversation was limited by the arrival of the Gren Li warriors who rode their pulpuls, gripping the horns somewhat comically, almost as if they were bicycle handlebars, directly towards Absu mes Marur until it seemed that their intention was to trample him down.

However, the pulpuls’ ability to stop suddenly was far better than that of horse or deer. At signals from their riders, the three animals came to a halt simultaneously.

“From the children of Absu mes Marur, greetings,” said one of the riders.

“From Absu mes Marur to his children, greetings also,” returned Absu equably.

“Lord, it was feared that you had perished.”

“I have been near enough to death to taste the flavour, but I was restored by my enemy’s enemy.”

“Lord,” a lance swung casually in the direction of Russell’s stomach, “these strangers are the fruit of conquest?”

“They are the fruit of friendship. It is at their hands that I live. If any call this weakness, let him now make the challenge according to his ancient rights.”

The three men muttered softly to each other, then the one who was clearly their spokesman turned to Absu mes Marur. “We do not question the valour or the wisdom of our sept lord. By the robe, this is so.”

“Nor is your own wisdom doubted,” replied Absu. “Now dismount, my children, for these my guests shall ride.”

Despite Russell’s protestations, he and Anna were helped on to the pulpuls and were shown how to grip the horns. The beasts were surprisingly easy to ride, perhaps because they kept their heads erect and so gave steady support to the rider.

The rest of the journey to the keep took no more than a few minutes, the pulpuls jogging sedately along and the ‘children’ of Absu mes Marur running by their sides. As they went up the rise on which the keep stood, a few notes—not unpleasing to terrestrial ears—sounded out a welcome from some kind of trumpet or horn.

Keep Marur, constructed like the Erewhon Hilton and the supermarket by unknown hands, had been in existence before the arrival of its occupants—which, Russell discovered, was about the time that the terrestrials themselves had arrived. As with the hotel and the supermarket, great care had been taken to ensure that the keep was typical of the kind of building to which its occupants had been accustomed.

Externally, it was a gloomy edifice, with a number of small triangular windows for each of the different floor levels. Inside, at least above the first level, it was surprisingly comfortable, with neatly stitched pulpul skins covering the wooden floors and with piles of furs and even a few fabric-covered cushions for sitting or lying on. Weapons and trophies hung on the walls, and smoky lamps—burning pulpul oil—lent a flickering homeliness to the otherwise dark apartments.

The first level of the keep seemed to be a combined butchery, bakery, armoury and general workshop. From this area, wooden steps led up to the door of the women’s apartments, then to the merchants’ and warriors’ quarters, and finally to the sept lord’s own apartment directly below the battlement.

It was here, after Absu had ceremonially shown his guests to the remainder of his ‘children’—guest-showing being a ritual of practical value in a society where the appearance of strangers was itself sufficient to provoke violence—that Anna and Russell were entertained.

During his stay with the terrestrials, Absu had been forced to come to terms with canned milk and strange preserved foods. Now it was the turn of the terrestrials to accustom their stomachs to strange foods. They were served with what looked and tasted rather like chopped avocado pear but which, in fact, turned out to be raw pulpul brains—one of the greatest delicacies that could be offered. This was followed by braised pulpul heart, some not unpleasant vegetables and the red spice of which Russell had already heard.

He had imagined, from Absu’s description, that red spice would be something similar to pepper. He was right—and wrong. It was much hotter than any pepper he had ever known, causing beads of sweat to form on his forehead. Also, it was terribly intoxicating, but not until one drank water.

Surprisingly, Anna was able to take the red spice fairly well. It was, as they discovered by watching Absu, eaten in tiny spoonfuls (pulpul horn spoons) from a central dish, alternately with mouthfuls of tough, bitter pulpul heart. Russell drank freely from the water that was offered him by a small brown, almost naked, woman who squatted next to him and laid her hands on his shoulders in a somewhat familiar fashion. Apart from the woman, who was strikingly beautiful even by terrestrial standards, and who was called Yasal, no one else from Absu’s sept was present.

By the end of the meal, Russell was drunk. He knew he was drunk and felt very foolish.

Absu mes Marur regarded him solemnly. “I had hoped this evening that we should speak again of many things which trouble us both, Russell.” He glanced at the bowl of red spice. “But I fear the journey has fatigued each of us in different ways. Let us then preserve our serious thoughts until we rise refreshed with the sun. Meanwhile, as is our custom, my woman shall warm your skins and your woman shall warm mine.”

Through the fog of drunkenness, Russell dimly perceived that the hospitality of this medieval sept lord carried with it some rather startling implications. He looked at Anna, who was gazing at Absu mes Marur, stony-faced.

Then he turned to his host. “Absu, old sport. We have a problem.” He paused, groping for the right words. “In my country, we do not exchange women… Well, not much.”

Absu smiled. “Nor do we, Russell, my friend—except during the first night of the first visit only. It is the custom of the keeps and a bond token. So it has always been. So, doubtless, it will always be… As for myself, I have little enthusiasm for one who is tall and ghostly and knows not how to respect her lord.

But the custom of the keeps is sacred, and I fear you have the best of it.”

Anna Markova, however, was not to be discountenanced by a retrogressive, uncouth, alien, medieval autocrat. To give herself time to think of an adequately crushing retort, she took a deep draught of water after her final spoonful of red spice.

It was her undoing. The mysterious vapours of the red spice, in immediate reaction, seemed to rise from her stomach directly to her brain, there becoming incandescent and cauterizing all rational thought.

“Know this, Absu mes Marur,” she said thickly. “A free Russian woman is worth any ten of the unemancipated sluts who pass for females in your little entourage. Personally, I have no inclination to lie with bloodthirsty pigmies, but in the interests of international—correction—interplanetary relations, I will warm your skins in such a fashion that you will remember it with wonder for the rest of your days.”

Russell was appalled, Yasal’s eyes widened with amazement, and Absu laughed so much he almost did himself an injury.

“By the robe, by the white queen and the black, this ghost woman has a remarkable spirit,” he said to Russell. “But know, my friend, that she does herself too much honour. The heat of her blood is surely no match for the heat of her words.”

Anna stood up—with difficulty—and gazed down scornfully at the Gren Li sept lord. “Barbarian,”

she said, groping for the right insults. “Savage. Imperialist. Fascist. I will teach you to respect your intellectual and moral superiors if it is the last thing—”

Her eyes clouded. She tried to keep them open, but the eyelids appeared to be obeying some higher authority. She swayed soundlessly, then collapsed in a heap.

Absu mes Marur grinned. “It is as I said. You, Russell, will have the best of it.” He grabbed Anna by an arm and a handful of hair and dragged her with some difficulty to a pile of skins. “Certainly, like this she will be less of a nuisance.”

But as he turned back to the food mat, Russell himself slumped in a heap.

Absu mes Marur gave Yasal, his chief night woman, a despairing glance. “These, though friends, are not familiar with our ways. You know your duty, child. Go to it.”