‘No, you’re not, you’re quick and clever. And of course Dann won’t be cross with you.’
‘He’s disappointed in me, I know that.’
Ali went to find Dann. ‘General, you’re trying the child too hard.’
‘Oh, nonsense. She’s all right.’
‘General, not every little girl is like your sister, who had to learn hard lessons when she was not more than a baby. You mustn’t match Tamar with what happened to you and Mara.’
‘Is that what I’m doing, Ali?’
‘Yes, I think you are.’
He told Dann the child had been weeping and Dann was angry—with himself. He found Tamar lying on her bed, her thumb in her mouth, with Ruff, and sat by her, humble with apologies. ‘Tamar, am I being so hard on you?’
And Tamar flung herself into his arms and wept there.
Then Dann asked if he might borrow Ruff for a while and the two went out to play. When the play was over Tamar reclaimed Ruff, who went with her, looking back at Dann.
But her lessons were fewer and Dann said to Griot, ‘All I wanted was to speed everything up.’
‘But Dann, sir, surely our leaving doesn’t depend on Tamar cramming her head with all that old stuff?’
‘It’s important, Griot.’
And Tamar’s head was fuller every day with what she learned from the Centre. She came out with a hundred bits of information, about how a device she thought was a water pump worked, or she told them an old tale. ‘A goddess…what’s a goddess, Ali? She was bathing with her women and a man saw her naked and she was so angry she turned him into a deer—what’s a deer, Griot? And then her dogs tore him to pieces. I think that was a cruel woman. Like Kira. I don’t like her. And I am sure Ruff wouldn’t tear anyone to pieces, would you, Ruff?
‘Once it rained forty days and forty nights—that must have been here, on the marshes, and a man called No built a boat and filled it with friends and then when the flood went down they built houses on high ground. Like us going to Tundra where it is high and doesn’t have marshes everywhere. Oh, I’m so sick of the marshes, Griot. You can’t take a step without getting your feet wet or slipping in the mud. And think how pleased Ruff will be. He can run about as he likes. He can’t get a good straight run here, there’s always a puddle or a pond or something.’
Dann asked Griot if he thought people were coming from the Farm—from Kira. ‘Spies, Griot, are they here?’
‘Bound to be. All they have to do is to throw off their black blankets and put on a red one. Some people have escaped from Kira to join us—we don’t turn them away. They don’t like what goes on there.’
‘When I was walking with Ruff there was a man on the road, coming from the west. I am sure I knew him. I’m in danger, Griot.’
‘But we always have soldiers on guard, keeping an eye.’
‘There was something about him…’
‘But, sir, have you ever thought how many people you and your sister met on your way up Ifrik? How could you remember them all?’
‘How could I forget—some of them?’
Dann was all anxiety, looking over his shoulder, turning round suddenly to see if he was being followed. He told Tamar not to come with him when he went out to exercise the snow dog. ‘I’m in danger, Tamar.’
The snow dog was taken out twice a day, once with Dann and once with Tamar.
Dann said to Griot, ‘Do you know what this reminds me of? I used to tell Mara I’m in danger, but she didn’t believe me.’
‘But, sir, we know you are in danger. So is the child. That is what the soldiers are for.’
‘Mara didn’t believe me but all the time Kulik was on our trail.’
‘Kulik is dead. When you were down in the Bottom Sea I went up to the top of the mountain because we all know that story, sir. There are the bones up there. The crows did their work well but the big bones are there, and the skull.’
‘Why should the bones be Kulik’s? That mountain is full of falls and steep places. Anyone could die up there—fugitives, refugees—they may think they are safe up the mountain but Mara and I weren’t safe, were we?’
Dann was frowning, deep inside his thoughts and his memories. His words were a muttering, almost incomprehensible.
‘Dann, sir, you must take hold of yourself. You are asking for—well, trouble, if you go on like this.’
Now Dann came to himself and laughed. ‘So, it’s trouble I am asking for?’ And he slapped Griot across the shoulders and then hugged him. ‘Griot,’ he said, ‘Griot, you are a prize. You’re splendid. I don’t deserve you, Griot, and don’t think I don’t know it.’
And off he shambled, to his favourite place by the not-glass walls.
Then they were at supper at their table in the great hall, Dann, Griot, Tamar, Ali and Ruff. He had his dish on the floor between Dann and Tamar. When he had finished his meal in a couple of gulps, he sat calmly, watching them all eat. The sentries sent in a message that a man had come from the Farm and wanted to see them.
Out from the shadows at the entrance door emerged a man with the black blanket on his shoulder, and at the sight Dann half rose and put his hand to his knife. He sat down again.
The man dropped the blanket on to the back of a chair and stood grinning, waiting to be invited to sit.
Tamar said in a little, brave voice, ‘This is Joss. He’s Kira’s friend.’
Joss had not stopped grinning, an insolent cold baring of the teeth, and his bold black eyes took in every detail of the scene.
‘Sit down,’ said Dann. ‘Join us.’
Joss sat, careless, at ease, always grinning. In the light from the lamps his red lips showed in a black beard, and white teeth that were biting off bread as if he were hungry. In the beard, on one cheekbone, was an old scar, showing white among the black hairs. Dann kept glancing at it and then away, as if it hurt him to see it.
Ruff began a low, rumbling growl.
Joss stared at the snow dog and said, ‘Very useful, these snow dogs. We have a regiment of them. We know you have them too. But ours are trained to kill.’ Then, to Tamar, ‘You are well guarded, I see.’ And he laughed, a theatrical soundless laugh, all his white teeth showing, and more than that, for his mouth was full of food.
Tamar sat primly, her voice trembling with her effort at bravery. ‘It’s rude to eat with your mouth open.’
‘Quite right,’ said Dann. Then he said to Joss, his hand seeking his knife hilt, ‘Were you ever in Chelops?’
‘No, I was never in Chelops. I came from the south up the coast, but you remember me because I asked for work at the Farm and you refused me, saying you didn’t need labour. Well, you might not have needed it then, but Kira took me on.’ And he gave his great, heaving, soundless laugh.
Dann shook his head. He didn’t remember. But he could not stop staring. ‘You are very like someone who was in the Towers at Chelops.’
‘We all know the story,’ said Joss, helping himself generously to the food. It was really unpleasant to see him eat. ‘It is a story that gains in the telling.’
Dann asked, ‘Where did you get that scar?’
‘I was swimming in the sea and a wave threw me against a rock. No, it wasn’t a fight. I am a peaceable man—when I get my way. I am getting my way.’
Griot said, ‘I think you should deliver your message and then, if you have had enough to eat, you must leave.’
Ruff was still growling, but because of Tamar’s restraining hand it was low, more like a vibration in the throat.
Joss reached inside his tunic, brought out a piece of food and threw it to Ruff who caught it—but before he could swallow it Ali was round the table and wrenching it out of the dog’s jaws.
He wrapped the food in a piece of cloth and summoned a soldier to take it. ‘Burn it,’ he said. ‘It’s poisoned. Be careful.’
Though Ruff had not done more than hold the morsel in his teeth he was now shivering and sick.
‘Go,’ said Dann.
Joss stood up. ‘Kira
told me to say to General Dann that she will be seeing you before long.’
‘And is that all?’ asked Griot.
‘It’s enough,’ said Dann.
‘And Leta sends a message. She says to Dann, “Thanks for your invitation, but once a whore always a whore.” She’s running a House of Ease for us.’
There was enough of Leta in this to tell them the message was accurately conveyed.
Dann stood up. ‘You are keeping her a prisoner,’ he said.
‘And a most efficient whore keeper she is,’ said Joss. ‘Her house is filled with Albs and with blacks from the river region. We captured some more Albs, just to keep her company.’
Tamar began to cry. ‘Poor Leta,’ she whispered, ‘poor Leta.’ And she knelt by Ruff and put her face into his fur. He was trembling and whimpering.
Dann had made a signal to the guards and now some soldiers came in.
Joss said, ‘The men who came with me had orders to fetch some of the good poppy from the east. Kira likes her poppy—but only the best.’
Dann said, ‘We don’t allow poppy in our army.’
‘Don’t you? Some of the refugees from the east were taking poppy with their mothers’ milk. Isn’t that so?’—and he addressed Ali.
‘Yes, it is true,’ said Ali. ‘But only a few fools go on with it.’
‘And who is this brave slave, insulting me?’ said Joss.
‘No slave,’ said Dann. ‘This is Ali, our very good friend.’
Now Joss looked hard at Dann, straight down the table, with his insolent grin, that he seemed to imagine was affable, or at least attractive. He said, proving that he knew perfectly well who Ali was, ‘And so I hope you have a good food taster, General.’
‘A very good food taster, thank you.’
‘Then look out, General—you might lose your food taster one of these days.’
Ali said, ‘I think I can match anything you can come up with in a knowledge of poisons.’
Joss laughed at him. ‘Goodbye, then. Goodbye, Tamar. Goodbye, Dann. Goodbye, Captain Griot. Till we meet again.’ And he went out laughing, the soldiers surrounding him, their knives drawn.
Ali had taken packets of herbs from his tunic and was sprinkling them on to Ruff’s tongue. ‘Don’t worry, little one,’ he said to Tamar. ‘Your friend will be better very soon.’
Dann abruptly left them and went to his room. Griot followed him. Dann was sitting on his bed.
‘Griot, I think that man was in the Towers. In Chelops.’
‘But Dann, sir, he’s the kind that would be boasting of the dirty work in the Towers, if he was there.’
‘Griot, when I was ill you nursed me, you think I don’t remember, but I do—and you saw my scars.’
‘Yes, I did.’
‘I had only to look at that man and my scars began to hurt.’
And Dann was prowling about the room, hitting out at the walls, and then at himself with his fists, on his stomach, his chest, his shoulders. ‘Spies,’ he was muttering, ‘spies everywhere, and they think I don’t know.’
‘Yes, of course there are spies everywhere.’
Now Dann was fumbling with the door of a cupboard, and he stood with his back to Griot, in a ludicrous attempt at secrecy. He had brought out a small lump of black stuff and was sniffing at it. Griot was beside him and had the lump away from him. ‘Sir, allow me.’
‘But I don’t allow you, Griot. What are you doing?’
‘You don’t want to start that again, Dann, sir.’
Dann sat on his bed and put his head in his hands. ‘You’re right, Griot. You’re always right, Griot. Griot, I’m ill. I’m not myself.’ And then, rearing as he sat, in a movement like a striking snake, he grabbed at Griot and stared into his face. Now Griot could smell the sickly breath, see dilated pupils.
‘How do I know you aren’t a spy, Griot?’
‘Sir, you aren’t well. Go to bed.’
From the door to the square, Griot called out to summon Dann’s guards, and from the door to the hall he called for Ali, who looked at Dann and said there were still medicines left from what Leta had brought. Griot mustn’t worry. Dann would be all right.
‘Yes, he should worry,’ said Dann, from his bed, where he lay stiff and stretched out.
Griot said, ‘I’ll make sure Tamar doesn’t come in.’
‘I want Ruff,’ said Dann. ‘I want my friend.’
‘Sir,’ said Ali, ‘Ruff is with Tamar,’ but Dann didn’t reply. Ali went out and came back with Ruff; Dann grabbed him, sank his face into the thick fur and hugged him. Griot shut the door on the two. Just outside stood Tamar, with Ali.
‘Don’t cry, little one,’ said Ali. ‘Let Dann have his old friend for a while.’
‘I’m not crying,’ said Tamar. She was listening to Ruff’s barks and Dann’s voice, talking to the snow dog.
‘Come, we’ll learn some new things and surprise Dann when he’s really better.’ Griot watched Ali lead the child away to one of the old museum halls. This one, Tamar had not been in. Ali had found in it machines he could not make sense of. Sometimes Tamar had ingenious ideas.
Inside the enormous building machines stood about, many long ago collapsed or fallen over.
In front of a machine like a vast grasshopper, Ali stood with Tamar, who was trying not to cry. Ali put his hand on her shoulder and said, ‘Tamar, what do you think that thing was for?’
Tamar said in a desolate little voice, but it was steady now, ‘If that is a model it must have been as hard to make as it was when it was of iron.’
Great wooden balls dangled from chains carved of wood.
‘They certainly wanted us to know what they had then,’ said Ali. ‘Well, then, imagine it in—what, iron? Yes, you’re right. It must have been iron.’
‘Because the whole point was, heavy iron balls. If they were of iron they’d have rusted long ago, with all the wetness, Ali.’
‘But it wasn’t always wet here.’
‘Anything they dropped those great balls on would have smashed. Perhaps they used them to break up big boulders?’
‘They could have done. Yes. Very useful.’
‘Or an enemy could use them to smash down a house.’
‘Yes. Even a big house.’
‘Yes.’ Her voice was quavering again.
‘Tamar, would you like to learn some more words in Tundra? Or some really difficult Mahondi?’
‘No, it’s all right, Ali. Let’s look at some more machines, and look and look until I remember them, and you can ask me questions.’ Her voice broke: she sobbed and then stopped and insisted on sticking it out until they had looked over six more of the mysterious machines.
‘Now they’re in my head for ever and ever, and if they sink into the marsh they will still be in my head.’
‘They’re going to do that soon enough—look.’
At the end of the enormous building a couple of machines were standing in water.
‘I’m tired,’ said Tamar. ‘Can I go and see Dann?’
‘I think it would be better if you didn’t, for a little while,’ said Ali. Tamar accepted this, but her face made Ali put his arms round her again. They returned to the hall where the scribes were working at their tables. There they had a place near a pillar, of rugs and cushions.
‘When it is evening, Ruff will need his walk,’ said Tamar. ‘May I take him?’
‘I am sure you may.’ When Griot came out he was asked, and he agreed.
‘What’s wrong with Dann?’ Tamar asked.
Griot squatted by her and, on her level, spoke what he had clearly been preparing. ‘Tamar, I don’t want you to worry too much. I’ve seen Dann like this before. He’ll get over it. Do you know about the marsh sickness, Tamar? It comes and goes. Well, what Dann has is a mind sickness, and that comes and goes too.’
‘Is it poppy?’ she asked. ‘I know about poppy.’
‘I don’t think so—not really. He had some poppy, but he had it for only a short time.
And I’ve got it away from him. You see, he’s very sad. When someone is as sad as Dann is, he’s better alone. I’ll fetch out Ruff for you.’
Soon Ruff came padding out of Dann’s room, saw Tamar, barked his welcome and bounded around her. The effects of the poison had gone.
Tamar and the snow dog ran about and played between the buildings of the Centre, then she had to take Ruff back to Dann’s door.
She stood with her arms round him, her face buried in his fur, and wept. Ali and Griot, watching, looked at each other, helpless. Then Tamar stood back, and Griot opened Dann’s door. Ruff padded in with a long look back at Tamar, and a little bark of farewell. He bounded forward to be welcomed by Dann. Barks and Dann’s voice; whines and the man’s voice.
Tamar, long past the age when she could allow herself this comfort, had her thumb in her mouth. She let herself be taken off to the cushions by Ali.
‘Poor little one,’ he said. And to Griot, over the child’s head, ‘We ask too much, too much is being asked.’
‘Yes, it is. And there’s worse. Tamar mustn’t go out of the Centre. Some of the people on the road today were Joss’s. The road is full of the black blankets.’
And so Tamar ran with her snow dog around and about between the buildings and played with him, the next day and the next, morning and evening. Ruff came out to her and there was a great reunion, then he had to go back—he wanted to go back, because he loved Dann. But he loved Tamar and wanted to be with her.
‘Perhaps it is Ruff we are asking too much of,’ said Ali. ‘He’s not looking well and he’s not eating, either.’
‘Dann will be better soon,’ said Griot. ‘I am sure he will.’
Ali sat with Tamar and they did lessons. The child was a pupil any teacher might dream of, she was so intent on learning. She was like a little flame, consuming everything she was told, her eyes on Ali’s, listening with all her being.
‘Dann’ll be pleased when I tell him I know this,’ she said often. And then it came out. ‘Dann will love me again.’
‘But Tamar, you mustn’t think he doesn’t love you.’
‘But he doesn’t want to see me.’
‘He does. He doesn’t want you to be unhappy too.’
‘Ruff can be with him, but I can’t.’
Story of General Dann and Mara's Daughter, Griot and the Snow Dog Page 19
