Chapter Seven
THE ENDING OF THE VOYAGE
Next morning when I awakened, the sun was high in the sky and the sea tranquil; but where exactly was the sun? Why, almost behind the ship; the shadows of the sails were making long, narrow lines forward toward the bow. What did that mean? The sun must be southeast of us; then we must be sailing more or less northwestward! As I laboriously worked this out, the mental effort and my realization of the strangeness of our course brought me fully awake.
Avran had awakened earlier and, indeed, had already found breakfast for us. There were hunks of the curious crusty bread the Mentonese favoured (surely not made from wheat?); two crescents of a reddish cheese that, by its flavour, came from Somerset; and, best of all, two cakes made of crushed yellow berries. These must be the sindleberries, which Ben Emery had mentioned as an item in Bristol's trade with Mentone. When I tasted them, I knew why they were desired; their flavour was wholly beguiling, bitter-sweet, as if one were eating bilberries spiced with almond. A stone crock of a dark red, sweet wine completed the repast. I wondered what fruit it was made from--neither grapes nor elderberries, of that I was sure. Yesterday I had been so hungry that I would have wolfed anything; today I noticed, and enjoyed, the strangeness of my meal.
Avran could not tell me about the wine, for it was strange to him also, but he was able to explain our course. Driven first by the storm and then by yesterday's gentler, following wind, our ship had travelled at a good pace. At first we had sailed more or less westward, till we were out beyond Ireland, then southwestward till we were south of the latitude of Portugal and Castile. By then we were south also of Rockall, yet still east of it. Now we were heading in a more northerly direction and might expect quite soon to make landfall.
Indeed, when in mid-morning a stir of excitement among the sailors aroused our attention, there was land far away ahead of us on the starboard side--a dark splinter on the horizon which, Avran said, was the southwesternmost tip of an island called Sayangadek. This island, it seemed, was a part of the residual realm of the people of the vanished empire, one of the five principal islands along the south coast of Rockall on which they lived. Varaldek, off the coast of Fachane, was the westernmost; then there were Skayadek and Aranadek, with a few smaller islands between, offshore from Breveg; Vasadek south of Sandastre; and, largest and easternmost, this island of Sayangadek off the southern coast of Arcturus. Further off from Rockall's shores, away to the south and east, other islands were held by them, the biggest called "Lesser Rockall" by English sailors but properly named Vragansarat. However, beyond their names, Avran seemed to know little of these islands. After so many years, the descendents of the exiled rulers of long ago seemed to him of no importance.
Instead, during that morning and afternoon, he instructed me concerning the way of life and the manners of his own people, the Sandastrians. Since much of what he taught me will transpire naturally as my story progresses, I shall not recount it all here. However, two matters on which he laid especial stress deserve immediate mention.
First of all, it seemed that most of the peoples of southern Rockall were Christians--or at least nominally so. They had an ancient belief in one God and a prophecy of revelation from across the seas. This had been fulfilled seven hundred years before, when holy men came to Rockall from Ireland to preach the true gospel; the Time of the Saints, Avran called it. In contrast, when Irish holy men like St. Aidan and St. Colman brought Christianity to my own north country, they had had no prophecy to aid them. I was well aware, not only that my own ancestors had been pagans, but also that, in some parts of northern England, the ancient Norse gods still attracted furtive worshippers. In southern Rockall, seemingly, the conversion had proved a much easier business and religious wars were unknown.
What startled me, though, was to learn that Sandastre had no monasteries or nunneries to provide refuges for scholarship and prayer, nor any churches even. Its priests were not celibate but married, living in the community and often performing tasks additional to their religious duties. They conducted services in hall or house or even in the open air, not in specially consecrated buildings. Moreover the Bible, instead of being read only in Latin by priests and a few educated men, had long since been translated into Sandastrian and was copied and read by everyone.
Well, I had heard its translation into English advocated, if only hesitantly and furtively: and I remembered how vehemently Lord Furnival's chaplain had denounced such "heresy", as he called it. At the time I had wondered why it could be wrong, to be able to read and properly understand the word of God. Consequently, though surprised by this information from Avran, I was not much disturbed.
I learned also that the authority of the Pope had not yet come to be recognized in Rockall, even though Ireland itself had long since submitted to Rome. Again this surprised but did not discountenance me. After centuries when there had been two Popes, one in Rome and one in Avignon, with neither showing much love for England, my compatriots' acknowledgement of Papal authority had for long been a matter of token only.
The second principal matter which Avran raised was that of the Sandastrians' attitudes to animals and to hunting. He had been greatly shocked, I learned, by the casual cruelties of the English--the cock fights and dog fights, the belling of cats, the baiting of bulls and badgers. He had been almost equally shocked by our methods of hunting. The pursuit of one fox, one otter or one deer by a whole pack of hounds and a great troop of huntsmen and followers seemed to him grossly unfair.
The Sandastrians did hunt, of course, for they had no distaste for any equal contest. Falconry was a respected occupation and Sandastrians would hunt larger animals alone, or in small groups, when food was wanted or when there was need to destroy a dangerous predator. The use of hounds was foreign to them, however. Nor could they ever stomach any cruelty to a helpless, cornered prey; instead, the animal would be dispatched as swiftly and mercifully as possible.
Avran put these points before me very hesitantly, quite evidently anticipating that I would disagree wholeheartedly with him and defend vigorously my countrymen's attitudes. He was visibly relieved and heartened when I did not. Indeed, for years I had cherished very similar ideas. I had not dared to express the revulsion I had so often felt, fearing the scorn of my father and my peers. Now I was delighted to learn of a land where my personal prejudices were not considered freakish, but universally held.
While we talked, the splinter of land remained long in view; but we did not approach closer to Sayangadek and eventually it vanished beneath the horizon. By midday our course was becoming more easterly and by mid-afternoon, land was again glimpsed. This time it was ahead and to port, a high hump of an island, which Avran said was Vasadek. Soon we were entering the Sandevrin Channel, one of a series of straits separating the offshore islands from the mainland of Rockall.
As the afternoon progressed, Vasadek elongated and transformed into a high mass of hills, dark against the bright southern sky. Avran gave it little attention. Instead he looked ever and again to the northward, anxious for a first glimpse of his homeland; but to the north, all was veiled in haze.
By late afternoon we were past Vasadek and once more there was open sea to the south of us. A sailor brought us what was to be our last meal on board. Again there were hunks of bread and crescents of cheese, with another crock of the sweet red wine but, disappointingly, no more sindleberry cakes.
Up to that time we had seen nothing of the Fleming, but the warm afternoon sunshine at last beguiled him from his cabin. He came to sit beside us on the deck.
"Due in Sandarro this evening, they tell me," he rumbled. "On to Brevolan tomorrow, with luck. Shan't be sorry to see the end of this voyage. Since that other accursed fellow disappeared--an unsociable, curmudgeonly being though he was, and no loss--I must say I don't feel safe. I'm not sure whether these Mentonese threw him overboard themselves, or whether they think that I did, but they're watching me all the time. I trust I'll find good trade in Fachane, to compensate for all these hardships and risks."
We murmured polite echoes of this hope and Avran asked, as if idly: "Did you ever discover his name, or where he was going?"
"Some barbarous name--oh yes, I have it! Akharn--Asd Akharn; and, like me, he was voyaging to Brevolan, though he would not say why. Seemed to resent my very questions, he did; no manners, no manners at all."
"Was he trading, do you think? Any goods with him?"
"No, none; only a small satchel. Ah yes, I willhave some of that wine-thank you."
We pledged him and wished him success in his trading. He ate with us, but as soon as the meal was done he returned to his cabin, to check his goods and his gold before the landing in Sandarro.
After he had left us, Avran said quietly: "The Akharns are a Baroddan clan. They live in the hill country above Rekhulan, on the Sekheyin River in northern Breveg. That won't mean anything to you, but it means much to me. Of all the Brevegens, these people of the north are the ones most fiercely resentful of Sandastrian rule. Well, that supports our ideas but it tells us nothing new. Would that I could examine the contents of his satchel!"
Almost as he finished speaking, the ship's course was again altered, to the north and across the wind. This was a manoeuvre involving much activity, as the mast-heads were reset. Avran's eyes were eager now and, at his beckoning, I went with him to the bows. As the sun sank, the haze was at last lifting. Suddenly we saw Rockall--a line of green hills above the horizon.
"Sandastre, praise God!" crowed Avran in a sort of subdued ecstasy. "Never again shall I voyage across those horrible, perilous seas to your land--or indeed, to any other! Once ashore, it will be long ere I can be persuaded again to set foot on shipboard. If perchance I must again put out to sea, be sure I shall make my ship hug Rockall's coasts as closely as it may!"
Within minutes a second line of green hills had come into view on the port--the west-side. "The Bernevren Hills," murmured Avran. "The lands of Bernavard and Vragaravard. Ah! How good it is to see them again; it refreshes my heart! Well, Simon my friend, we are in the bay of Velunen now and sailing in towards Sandarro, where the waters of the Alasslan meet the sea. Yes, look! There is the castle on its hill, and my city! At last, at last I am almost home!"
As he spoke these words, my friend's voice rose from its murmur into a paean of joy. However, though my eyes followed Avran's to the northward, I could not at first distinguish what he was seeing. Then, suddenly, I did see. South of the main mass of hills, and thus closer to us, an isolated and lower hill could be distinguished. Conical it was in shape and capped with a white topping, like a crust of sugar on a honey-bun.
As we sailed steadily closer, I realized that to be much too homely a simile. Upon the hilltop, as I now perceived, was a great castle, a castle as white and beautiful--or so it seemed to me--as the cloud-castles of fairytale giants. I saw a cluster of tall white towers; at first I perceived three, then a fourth, but there were in fact five, the fifth hidden from our view. These were set about a massive central keep of pentagonal shape. From the centre of that keep there upsprang a sixth and yet higher tower, which looked as slender as the point of a lance. From the outer towers to the summit of the central tower, five great arches soared upward, slim and graceful as the flying buttresses of a cathedral. All in all, this looked not like a mere work of fortification and defence, as did the other castles I had seen. Instead, it appeared like a crown--a crown fit to grace the head of the most beautiful of princesses.
About and below it was a patchwork of colour. Ringing the base of the castle proper, I now perceived, was a curtain wall, made not from white stone but from red. This wall was closely set with smaller towers; I could count more than ten of them and later learned that there were twenty. Nor did this complete the defensive works, for below and outside them were a whole series of isolated towers, similarly built from red stone; and below that again, more and more towers, circle upon circle of them. These lower towers were of a brown colour, darker than those about the hilltop, and in between were rings of green--bushes, surely? --improbably flecked with blue. Before the castle was a larger green space and before that, outer fortifications again of red stone at the very edge of the blue sea.
"Why are there so many towers on the hillside?" I asked Avran bewilderedly. "Is not the one great castle enough? It looks very strong."
He laughed. "Well, the topmost ones are towers, but the rest are not! They are padin, houses. We don't build our houses to square shapes, like you English, and pack them tightly into rows along streets. Instead, we construct round dwellings, with a garden in the middle and a space between. Yet they do have a defensive purpose also, as you'll discover."
As we sailed onward, the hill and its castle seemed to grow ever higher above us. This was not such a low hill, after all; it must rise at least three hundred feet above the sea. Nor was it so smooth as I had at first believed. Instead, it was buttressed by a series of rising ridges, some higher, some lower, each set with an ascending row of the circular padin and crowned with a stone tower just in front of the curtain wall. There were also lines of padin, though fewer of them, in the hollows between the ridges--and, yes, I could see paved roadways ascending the hill on the flanks of each ridge. Indeed this was a town, though utterly unlike any town I had seen.
To the east of Sandarro, a brook entered the sea, traversed some way upstream by a stone bridge; to the west was a very much larger river, too broad to be bridged. The brook to the east, Avran said, was the Ambidril; the river to the west, the Alasslan. Between their mouths, as I now perceived, there was a double row of fortifications, one a little higher on the hill atop a raised beach, the other at sea level. There were buildings in between, though I could not distinguish them clearly. When I asked Avran about them, he told me these warehouses and dwellings provided storage, accommodation and entertainment for foreign seamen and merchants, who were neither permitted to reside in Sandarro itself nor even to visit it. I was indeed to be privileged!
Steadily we sailed in toward that outer wall, very much to my bewilderment, for I could at first see neither any breaks in it nor any quays before it. Not till we were quite close did I perceive that it was interrupted in three places. Each gap was overlooked by a tower and each could readily be closed by means of great booms; these were now drawn back onto the fortified moles beneath the guardian towers but ready for immediate use. The towers were amply manned, for I could see a number of soldiers moving about, upon and even within them.
"Ships come most often from Mentone, from Fachane or from Arcturus," Avran commented. "Each of those lands uses one harbour only, though our own Sandastrian vessels may enter any. The harbour for Mentone is the western one; that will be where we land. See, now, the flag on the tower!"
Indeed, a flag was being hoisted on the westernmost of the four towers guarding the harbour entrances. The colour of its field was grey, the grey of an evening sky, and on this there was displayed a golden bird of some sort, in flight beneath a crescent moon.
Its hoisting served to signal that our vessel might enter. Orders were shouted and, as the sails were trimmed, our vessel tacked, then sailed through that westernmost opening into a calm, quiet harbour in which two smaller ships were already at anchor. With more shouted orders and much activity at the ropes, our ship was brought about and drawn up alongside the quay on the west side of the harbour. There was a rattle of chains as anchors were dropped at bow and stern. We had arrived at Sandarro.
foreword chapters 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 (more chapters will appear in the future)
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