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 Fine, Perkar said, though he would have rather galloped down, heedless.
How old I look
, Perkar thought, staring at his reflection in a still edge of the stream. His
hood down, he could see the new lines on his face, the unkempt brown hair,
gray eyes that seemed rather dull to him, though he had once been proud of
their flash and sparkle. He was struck, suddenly, by how much more he looked
like his father, and that thought brought an almost dizzying recurrence of his
earlier homesickness. Up this stream, far up it, his father s pasture lay. A
leaf fallen there might pass now by his feet. The stream blurred, as tears
rimmed his eyes.
 Always so sad, she said, rising from the water before him,  even from the
first.
She looked older, too. Her skin still dazzled whiter than the snow on the
hills around them, her eyes shone purest amber, and yet in the jet of her long
hair lay wisps of silver, lines etched on a face that before had been
smoothest ivory. She remained the loveliest woman Perkar had ever seen; the
sight of her caught at his breath.
 Goddess, he said.
 The same, but not the same, she answered.  Farther downstream, more
children. But I know you, Perkar, I remember your arms and kisses, your sweet
silly promises.
She stepped up and out of the water, stretched a tapered finger out to stroke
his chin. Her touch was warm, despite the chill wind. Her unclothed flesh was
raised in goosebumps, but other than that she showed no discomfort.
 What have they done to you, my sweet thing? she asked, moving her hand down,
to the thick scar on his throat where a lance had passed through his neck;
across his coat, beneath which hidden scars bunched like a nest of white
caterpillars.
 I did it to myself, he muttered.
 You did it for me, she corrected.
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 Yes, at least I thought I did.
She moved to embrace him, though his thick coat must have been rough against
her. She pressed her cheek against his, and it was so warm it was nearly hot.
 I tried to stop you, she reminded him. She stepped back, and he stood there,
not knowing at all what to do.
 I tried to stop you, she repeated.
He shrugged uncomfortably.  I loved you. I did foolish things.
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She nodded.  I have heard rumors, flying down from the mountain.
He sang of you, where he eats me.
Do you feel more a man now, Perkar? Do you feel more a match for a goddess?
 No, he said, his voice small but firm.  No, you were always right.
 What do you want of me now? she demanded, and her voice was a bit sharp. She
had always been like that, hard and soft, comforting and angry, all at once.
 I only want for you to forgive me.
 Forgive you? she asked, as if she were repeating words in a foreign
language.
 Forgive me for killing in your name. Forgive me for&  He searched his brain,
but despite his rehearsal, he could not find the words.
 Forgive you, she repeated. She shook her head slowly.  So many things men
have done for me, over the years so many stupid things. At first, you know, I
did not try to stop them. They amused me. But the blood of this girl, this
form you see, oh, it sleeps for long, but sometimes I am almost Human. I feel
sorrow, feel ashamed, just as you might though I hate it. And I feel love,
Perkar. You can hurt me, I
think. I was always afraid you would hurt yourself and add to my sorrow. And
so you have.
 But I am alive, he told her.  Here I am.
 But so terribly hurt, she said,  so scarred. Can I forgive you for that, for
scarring my sweet Perkar?
She shook her head, pursed her lips.  Take whatever you want, she said at
last.  If you want my forgiveness, take that.
 You have to give it to me, I think, he replied.
She spread her arms wide, gesturing up and down the river, spreading her naked
body before him.  Here is all that I am, she answered.  Upstream,
downstream anything in me is yours. If you can find
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forgiveness here, take it I give it to you. But I cannot find it for you.
He nodded, unsure what to say next, and she gazed at him long and thoughtfully
before she said anything else. Then, with a little sigh, she approached him
again and took his hand. Together they gazed into the water.  There are some
things I can find for you, she confided.  Things that have come downstream to
me.
 Yes? he said hopefully.
 From your father s people. See, there and there. She gestured at the flowing
water, but he saw nothing noteworthy.
 What?
 Blood, she said, gripping his hand tighter.  It is their blood.
Perkar did not believe that any news could stun him now, and yet as he walked
back up to where
Ngangata waited, he felt numb, and not from the cold. The goddess had talked
for some time, explained as much as she knew, then left him with a faint kiss
on the lips to remind him of his first lesson in passion, so long ago. But
even the kiss of a goddess dimmed next to what she had told him.
 Well? Ngangata inquired, rising from his haunches and shouldering his
laminated bone bow.
 War, Perkar mumbled.  My people are at war with the Mang.
 Your people are always at war with the Mang, Ngangata replied, though rather
tentatively.
 No. The Mang have always raided us, and we have always repelled them. But now
my people have invaded the Ekasagata Valley and established damakutat to
defend what they have taken.
 Why haven t Brother Horse and his people heard of this?
 Perhaps they have
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, Perkar said darkly.
 No, I don t believe that, Ngangata disagreed.
 Well, maybe they have heard rumors but assume it is the same sort of raiding
that has always gone on.
The border with my people is many hundreds of leagues away.
 True. And the Mang are not all one people. What troubles the Mang of the
western plains need not have any effect on the Mang of the South.
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 Except, Perkar noted,  in times of war. Their confederacy exists for mutual
protection and mutual raiding.
Ngangata shook his head unhappily.  This means trouble for us. Brother Horse
may find it difficult to treat us with hospitality when the news arrives.
 Ngangata! Perkar cried.  Hospitality! My people are dying, and it is my
fault. You know that, you were there. The Forest Lord had agreed to give our
king more land. Because of me, that offer was withdrawn and will never be made
again. Now it seems, unable to expand west, my people have chosen to move into
the Mang borderlands. My fault, all of it.
Ngangata regarded him for a moment.  Apad and Eruka  he began.
 Are dead
, Perkar finished.  I am the only one left to shoulder the blame. In any
event, Apad and Eruka would have lacked the courage to anything without me.
do
Ngangata s face was grim.  I know that, he replied.  I agree; much of the
blame for this lies with you.
But if I understand Piraku, you should be thinking of something to do about
it, rather than blaming yourself over and over again rather than telling me
about your guilt yet again.
Perkar clenched his fist and shook it in Ngangata s face.  And just what is it
I
can do? he shouted. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]