"This is not the first time that these people have ruled in Bekla. Long ago they did so; and in those days, too, they worshiped a bear. But it was not kept here. It was kept on an island in the Telthearna--Quiso. The cult was controlled by women--there was no priest-king, no Eye of God. But when at last they lost Bekla and fell from power, their enemies were careful to see that no bear remained to them. The chief priestess and the other women were allowed to stay on their island, but without a bear."
"Well, the bear's returned at last. Isn't that a sure sign?"
"Ah, but wait, good honest Mollo. All is not told. When the bear returned, as you put it--when they acquired this new model--there was a chief priestess on the island--a woman with the reputation of being no fool. She knows more about disease and healing than any doctor south of the Telthearna--or north of it either, I should think. There's no doubt that she's effected a great many remarkable cures."
"I think I've heard something about her, now you mention it, but not in connection with Shardik."
"At the time when this bear first appeared, five or six years ago, she was the recognized and undisputed head of the cult, her office having descended regularly for God only knows how long. And this woman would have nothing to do with the attack on Bekla. She has consistently maintained that that attack was not the will of God but an abuse of the cult of the bear; and consequently she has been kept in virtual imprisonment, with a few of her priestesses, on that Telthearna island, even though the bear--her bear--is being kept in Bekla."
"Why hasn't she been murdered?"
"Ah, dear Mollo, the penetrating realist--always straight to the point. Why, indeed, has she not been murdered? I don't know, but I dare say they fear her as a sorceress. What she has undoubtedly retained is her reputation as a healer. That was why my brother-in-law traveled a hundred and fifty miles to consult her at the end of last summer."
"Your brother-in-law? Ammar-Tiltheh is married, then?"
"Ammar-Tiltheh is married. Ah, Mollo, do I see a slight shadow cross your face, stemming, as it were, from old memories? She has the kindest memories of you, too, and hasn't forgotten nursing you after that wound which you were so reckless as to get through saving me. Well, Sildain is a very shrewd, sensible fellow--I respect him. About a year ago he got a poisoned arm. It wouldn't heal and no one in Lapan could do it any good, so at last he took it into his head to go and see this woman. He had a job to get on the island--she's kept pretty well incommunicado, it seems. But in the end they let him, partly because he bribed them and partly because they saw he'd probably die if they didn't. He was in a bad way by that time. She cured him, all right--quite simply, apparently, by applying some sort of mold; that's the trouble about doctors, they always make you do something revolting, like drinking bats' blood--have some more wine?--but while he was there he learned a little--not much--about the extent to which these Ortelgans have abused the cult of the bear. I say not much, because apparently they're afraid that the priestess's very existence may stir up trouble against them and she's watched and spied on all the time. But Sildain told me more or less what I've told you--that she's a wise, honorable and courageous woman; that she's the rightful head of the cult of the bear; that according to her interpretation of the mysteries there was no sign that they were divinely intended to attack Bekla; and that this man Crendrik and that other fellow--Minion, Pinion, whatever he called himself--appropriated the bear by force for their own purposes and that everything that's been done since then has been nothing but blasphemy, if that is the right term."
"I wonder still more why they haven't murdered her."
"Apparently it's rather the other way round--they feel the lack of her and they haven't yet given up hope of persuading her to come to Bekla. In spite of all he's done, the Crendrik man still feels great respect for her, but although he's sent several times to beg her to come, she always refuses. Unlike you, Mollo, she won't be a party to their robbery and bloodshed."
"It still doesn't alter their extraordinary success and the confidence with which they fight. I've got every reason to support them. They've made me governor of Kabin and if they go, I go."
"Well, they've left me as Ban of Sarkid, if it comes to that. Nevertheless, the number of hoots I give for them is restricted to less than two. Do you think I'd sell the honor of Sarkid for a few meld from these dirty, murderous--"
Mollo laid a hand on his arm and glanced quickly sideways without moving his head. The landlord was standing just behind the settle, apparently absorbed in trimming the wick of a lamp fixed to the wall.
"Can we have some bread and cheese?" said Elleroth in Yeldashay.
The landlord gave no sign that he understood.
"We have to go now, landlord," said Elleroth, in Beklan. "Do we owe you anything further?"
"Nothing at all, good sirs, nothing at all," said the landlord, beaming and presenting each of them with a small model, in iron, of the Great Scales. "Allow me--a little souvenir of your visit to The Green Grove. A neighbor makes them--we keep them for our special customers--greatly honored--hope we shall have the pleasure on another occasion--my poor house--always glad--"
"Tell Tarys to buy herself something pretty," said Elleroth, putting ten meld on the table.
"Ah, sir, too kind, most generous--she'll be delighted--a charming girl, isn't she? No doubt if you wished--"
"Good morning" said Elleroth. They stepped out into the colonnade. "Do you think he may perhaps make a point of hiding his linguistic abilities from the common light of day?" he asked, as they strolled once more a
cross the market.
"I'd like to know," answered Mollo. "I can't help wondering why he trims lamps at noon. Or why he trims lamps at all, if it comes to that, seeing it's women's work and he has that girl to help him."
Elleroth was turning the ugly little model over in his hands.
"I feared it--I feared it. He must take us for utter fools. Does he think we can't recognize the Gelt iron-mark when we see it? So much for his neighbor who makes them--weighed in the Great Scales and found nonexistent."
He placed the model on a windowsill overlooking the street and then, as an afterthought, bought some grapes from a nearby stall. Having put a grape carefully into each scale, he handed half the remainder to Mollo and they walked on, eating grapes and spitting out the pips.
"But does it really matter whether the fellow understood you or not?" asked Mollo. "I know I warned you when I saw him standing there, but that's become second nature after all these years. I can hardly believe you could be accused on his evidence, let alone convicted of anything serious. It'd be his word against mine, anyway, and of course I can't remember hearing you say anything whatever against the Ortelgans."
"No, I'm not afraid of being arrested for that sort of thing," answered Elleroth, "but all the same, I've got my reasons for not wanting these people to know my true feelings."
"Then you'd better be more careful."
"Indeed, yes. But I'm rash, you know--such an impetuous boy!"
"I know that," replied Mollo, grinning. "Haven't changed, have you?"
"Hardly at all. Ah, now I recall where we are. This brook is the outfall of the Barb, which runs down to what was once the Tamarrik Gate. If we follow it upstream along this rather pleasant path, it will bring us back close to the Peacock Gate, where that surly fellow let us out this morning. Later on, I want to stroll out beyond the Barb as far as the walls on the east side of Crandor."
"What on earth for?"
"I'll tell you later. Let's talk of old times for the moment. Ammar-Tiltheh will be delighted to hear that you and I have met again. You know, if ever you had to leave Kabin, you'd always be welcome in Sarkid for as long as you liked to stay."