"I thought you said that in Chelops you found out you knew more than they do — about certain things, anyhow."
"That's not saying much. And I did know more — but what I really knew more about was not the kind of thing I want to learn. I know about how to stay alive. And they don't. When I look back now they seem to me like children." And now she was weeping. She put her head down in her arms and wept. She felt Shabis's hand on her shoulder. It was a kind hand, but it was also a warning.
"That's enough, Mara. Now, stop."
Slowly, she stopped. The warm pressure on her shoulder stopped too. She lifted her head.
"You will begin the language lessons tomorrow. Today I want you to do something for us. You will tell the officers your story."
"How can I? I don't speak Charad."
"Most of them know some Mahondi. I would like them to know more. You will have to speak slowly, and don't use any long words." "I don't know any long words." "Now don't start crying again."
"Why only the officers?"
"Do you want an audience of ten thousand?"
"You have ten thousand soldiers?"
"In this part of the country, ten thousand. Over in the West, under General Chad, ten thousand. In the North, twenty thousand — that is, centred on Shari. To the East, keeping the Hennes in their place, ten thousand."
"How many people live in all of Charad?"
"Most people are in the army."
"Everyone, in the army?"
"As you know wars are hard on the ordinary people of a country. We found that all the young men were coming to us, begging to be taken into the army. Then the women. We make most of them soldiers or they work for the army in some capacity. You see, with us they get clothed and fed. Soon we found there were parts of Charad that had no ordinary citizens left. The war had been going on for twenty years. Their fields were destroyed, and their animals taken. Soon Agre was all army. Many of them have never seen a fight, or even a raid, or seen a Hennes."
"What you are saying is that the whole country is a kind of — tyranny."
"That's about it." "Who is the ruler? You?"
"There are four of us generals. We rule. And we rule well." "And are the people protesting?"
"Indeed they do."
"So what happens then?"
"What did you do to the poor lad who was going to steal your money?"
"What do they want? If they want a change, what is it?"
"Sometimes we wonder — we four. They call us The Four. They are fed. They are well fed. They are safe."
"And soon you will have your truce with the Hennes. Are they also in the army?"
"No. They have a large, discontented civilian population. Mara, you will get lessons, I promise you. And now we are going to the parade ground. There will be a thousand officers there."
"You expect me to address a thousand people?"
"Why not? You'll manage all right. If you begin now, you should be finished with your story by midday. Don't dwell on the personal aspect. I want you to tell them about the changes in the climate, about how the animals are changing, the scorpions and so on. Describe the setup in
Chelops. Tell them about the River Towns. Some of the soldiers came from there, as refugees. Tell them about the shortages of food — all that kind of thing." He was smiling, and pleased with himself — or her. "My soldiers are the best educated in Charad."
How much she liked and admired him then! And she felt so very much at home with him. And yet he was not like the easygoing, friendly, smiling people that she was sure had been all that she had known in her early childhood. And he was not like Juba, and certainly not Meryx, whom she was seeing now in her mind's eye smiling at her, his gentle, charming smile, which faded as she looked, Goodbye Mara, goodbye — as he turned and went. This man had been a soldier for twenty years, and he never made a gesture, or a turn of the head, or of the body, he never took a step that did not fit exactly into some pattern he had been taught. And yet this discipline of his was nothing like the horrible sameness of the Hennes.
They walked through the flat, low army buildings to where they could see the officers marching on to the parade ground, all the same in their brown, baggy uniforms. The dust spurted up under their stamping feet and drifted about among their legs and began to settle as they came to a stop and stood at ease. She looked for Dann and at last saw him, unfamiliar to her as one of this mass of men, standing in a bloc of ten. She smiled at him, and he nodded, slightly, keeping his face soldierly severe.
Now she could see so many together, she felt uneasy again: they were Mahondis, most of them, and yet not. She thought that if you took any one of these men in front of her by himself, then you would think, Yes, a Ma-hondi, but perhaps not the best-built or most good-looking one I've seen. But take fifty of these, and put them beside fifty of the real Mahondis, then the difference would be seen at once. But what difference? It was not easy to see.
Shabis signalled and she began talking. She was on a little wooden platform, looking down at them. It was quiet, and she could make herself heard. What was hard for her was, because they were soldiers, their faces kept immobile, she did not know how interested she was keeping them. But from time to time Shabis nodded at her to go on, when she hesitated. Then, after about an hour, she ended with a minute description of the Hennes soldiers on the river bank, and when Shabis asked them if they would like to put questions, one after another raised his hand and it was the Hennes they wanted to know more about. Only later were the questions about drought and the River Towns.
Walking back with Shabis she asked him if there had ever been a famine here, and if so, was this why the Agre people seemed like poor copies of the Mahondis. He said that he believed there had been, but a good long time ago, and then answered her real question with, "But when their children are born, they are not like us. Not really. At first you think that this is a Mahondi baby, and then you take another look."
"So what happened? Why?"
"Nobody knows. Why are those scorpions you told me about, and the spiders and lizards, changing?"
They sat on opposite sides of the trestle table and were served the midday meal. There were cooked vegetables, and meat. She told him she had hardly ever eaten meat, even in Chelops. She would get used to it, she said, but a slab of muscle from some beast, brown on the outside and still red in the middle, made her think of Mishka and Mishkita and the milk beasts of Chelops.
He said that in these parts it was easier to feed people with meat than it was to grow enough vegetables. There were large herds of meat animals, and a good part of the women's army were appointed to look after them. These were hardy animals who thrived even when fodder was short, and they only needed to drink once a week. Now, the Hennes grew vegetables well, but were not much good with animals. If only the Agres and the Hennes could agree on a truce, there could be much beneficial trading.
Then he said that he was going to leave her, because he was going on reconnaissance.
And she said, "But first, I have something really important to ask. Do you know what my name is?" "Didn't you say it was Mara?"
"Why was it so important for me and Dann to forget our real names?" "Surely you know that there were people out looking for you, to kill you?" "Is that all it was?"
"Wasn't that enough? You do know that all your family were murdered?"
"Yes."
"As it turned out, the other side are all dead too. So you and Dann are the only ones left of the Mahondis of Rustam." "It's so sad, not knowing your real name."
He was silent for a while. "Sad but safe. What's wrong with Mara? It's a very pretty name." And now he got up, seemed ready to leave. "Shall I take your brother Dann with me on reconnaissance? He seems quick off the mark — as you are. Perhaps you'd like to be a female soldier? They are very good." But seeing her face, he laughed and said, "No, but you would be a good soldier. Don't worry. I'm going to train you to be my aide. I need one. And you get the point so quickly."
She
said, and it was with difficulty, being stubborn, when he sounded so light-hearted and friendly: "We are going North, Dann and I. When we can."
"And what are you going to find there?" "Aren't things better there? Is that all just a dream?" And, exactly like Han, he said, "It depends where you find yourself." Then, seeing her face, he said, "Mara, what are you expecting? What are you dreaming?"
In Mara's mind were visions of water and trees and beautiful cities — but these were rather misty, for she had never seen a city that was not threatened — and gentle, friendly people.
"Have you been North?"
"You mean really North? North north?"
"Yes."
"I was brought up in Shari and then for a time at school north from there in Karas. But I've only heard about real North."
"Is it true that there is a place up there that has... where you can find out about. I mean, about those old people, those people who knew everything?"
"Something like that. So they say. I have friends who have been there. But you know, Mara, my life is here. I must confess I have moments when I wish I lived somewhere easier. And now I'm off."
And Mara sat on alone for a while in this room, his room, and then went into the one she slept in, and walked around it and looked carefully at the rock pictures. Those had been a more handsome and a finer people than she had ever been able to imagine. Shabis was good-looking, and his face was intelligent and good — but these people. She thought, If one of them walked in here now I'd feel even more of a clod and a lump than I usually do. Everything about them was fine. The clothes they wore were not just pieces of cloth sewn together with holes for arms and head, for that after all was the basic pattern of every garment she had ever seen. Even trousers were two lengths of cloth slit and sewn for legs, and tied at waist and ankle. These clothes the ancient people on the wall had worn were cunningly cut, with pleats and gathers and folds, and sleeves set in so cleverly she found herself smiling as she looked. And the ornaments in their ears — long, narrow ears — were so intricately made... But the dulling of paint made it impossible now to see the details. And the rings on the long, thin fingers, and the necklaces... What a brilliant show they must have made, a crowd of these — what had they been called? What did they call each other? They were a brown people, a warm, light brown, with long eyes made longer by paint, and smiling mouths, and thin noses, and short brown hair, held with circlets of — it looked like gold. And they had lived in this city — for now Mara knew that these army buildings had simply been put down in a space between miles of ruins — a city of houses that had had many layers, eight, or ten, and... But who knew now how long they had lived here? How had they lived? Scene after scene showed them dancing, or sitting around low tables eating, showed them with their familiar animals, dogs, like the ones she remembered, and others like her little pet Shera, whose gentle licks on her cheeks she could feel even now, and birds, brightly coloured, flitting about. There had been a river, perhaps the same one she had travelled on, and there were boats so large that each had on its deck something like a small house, where people sat and amused themselves. Ser-vants — slaves? — brought food on platters, and drinks in coloured cups. There was nothing here of what she had seen in the Rock Village ruins: lines of people tied to each other by the waist, or by chains around their necks.
It occurred to her that when people had said "up North" — perhaps for hundreds of years, in the cities and towns farther south — what they meant was this city here. Perhaps even for thousands of years they had talked everywhere in Ifrik about this wonderful place. No, not thousands: for some reason cities did not live so long. Cities were like people: they were born and lived and died.
Later, when the light went, the servant came in with a jug of milk and some little cakes. His wrist was bandaged. He never took his eyes off her, and sidled out of the room, terrified. He said something under his breath and it was not friendly. Well, tomorrow she would begin to learn this language and then no one would say things she could not understand.
Before she slept she went out to see the glitter of the stars... And lingered there until she saw that a soldier was watching her: he was on guard. She went in and to bed thinking about Dann and how soon she could see him.
Next morning, at breakfast, Shabis asked about the scars around Dann's waist, and she said that had happened when he was very ill in Chelops. Shabis said that there were parts of Ifrik where slaves wore chains around their waists with blunt barbs on them, making scars rather like Dann's. She said she had never heard of anything like that. He nodded, after a while; she supposed he believed her, but did not mind much. She thought, I'm not going to care about him; we'll be going North.
The Charad lessons were with an old woman, a good teacher, and Mara learned fast. Every morning lessons in Charad and every afternoon, for at least an hour, or longer, if he had time, Shabis taught her, by a simple means. She asked questions and he answered them. Only occasionally he said, "I don't know." She protested she was so ignorant and she did not know what questions to ask, but he said that when she ran out of questions then it would be time to worry.
She asked to see Dann. He said that he was in that stage of training when it would be disadvantageous to interrupt it, and Dann was doing so well, that would be a pity.
11
Most evenings Shabis was not there; on reconnaissance, he said, or instructing his soldiers. Then she learned he had a wife. Since he did not mention her, she did not. Would she like it if he wanted to sleep with her? At the thought, her body woke and wailed that it missed Meryx and did not want anyone else. And indeed the thought of him was so painful that she refused to let herself think of him. That time when she had lain every night in Meryx's arms, as if that was the normal thing to do, instead of being cold or hungry or exhausted, or on the run, now seemed like some other life and in another time. To wake in the dark to feel the breathing wonder of a body you loved passionately, tenderly. No, she did not want to think of it, or even remember.
Now she was glad Shabis had a wife and was not there in the evenings, for she was able to sit quietly and think of what she had learned in the day, from Shabis, and in her study of Charad.
Another boat arrived on the canal, from down South, and it was stopped long enough to get news. The drought had not broken in the South, and there had been no rain at all. Things were very bad. And Chelops? Nothing definite, only that there had been fighting. She wondered if, when the next boat came, the Chelops Mahondis would be on it, or perhaps even Hadrons? And what was happening in the River Towns? The ones farthest south were emptying, but Goidel was not too bad.
The days passed and then it was weeks. Dann came to see her. They had been sending each other messages, "I am fine. How are you?" — that kind of thing.
Mara watched him walk towards her. The army had fed him and he had lost his lean, knobbly look, like a gnawed bone at his worst. He had grown taller. He was good-looking, very, in his uniform and he moved with confidence. Once, every movement he made was of a hunted thing. They did not embrace but sat looking at each other. They were in her room, where she slept. Dann glanced at the wall pictures, then again, then was caught by them, and only with difficulty left them to sit and talk. It was a shock to see the uniformed man in this room, adding to it yet another layer of time. For she had joked with Shabis that from her shoulders down, in this room, she lived in an ancient civilisation more wonderful than anything people now could imagine, but from the shoulders up, she was a mud-hut dweller. But Dann belonged in a modern barracks.
"Mara, when are we going to leave?"
She had known he was going to say this. "How can we? How far would we get?"
"We've managed before."
"Not in a country where everybody's movements are known. And if you left the army that would be treason, and the punishment for that is death."
He began moving restlessly in his chair, the old Dann, a barely controlled rebelliousness.
Mara got up to look into the
next room to see if anyone was listening. The young boy whose wrist she had broken was tidying near the door. He ran out when he saw her. Now she knew enough Charad to understand what he said: he was calling her witch, bag, hag, snake. She called after him in Charad similar epithets and saw him panic.
"What is this Shabis like?" asked Dann.
"You should know. You go out with him often enough on reconnaissance."
"All right — yes, he's brave. He never asks us to do what he won't do himself. But that isn't what I meant." "He is married."
"I know." His smile, worldly wise and cynical, was something the army had taught him.
"And I haven't forgotten Meryx."
Dann hesitated, then said gently, "Mara, Meryx is probably dead." "Why? How do you know?"
"There's been more fighting in Chelops. The people from the town went up into the eastern suburbs and massacred Hadrons and quite a few Ma-hondis."
"Who said so?"
"Kira. She came up on the last boat. She had heard about it from some refugees. She agreed to be a soldier here, but she's not much good at doing what she's told, and so she's looking after animals."
"Do you see Kira?"
He answered only the surface of her question with, "We meet in the eating house. We are friends."
She had learned what she needed to know and she was pleased. So he had a friend. She said, "Dann, I'm learning to read and write in Charad, as well as talking. And I'm learning a lot of things. It's what I've always wanted."
"It'll be useful when we go North."
"Dann, have you every wondered why we say North, North?"
"Of course I have. And it is because everyone has said that things are
better."
"They are better here."
"But this isn't what I was hoping for."
"No," she said softly, "it isn't."
"They say that North — really North — there are all kinds of things and people and we've never seen anything like them."
Mara and Dann mad-1 Page 33
