surface, but was carried onward by the strength of his spring and passed
unentangled through the stems of the flowers. When Athelvok jumped into
the water the bull must have thrown his head up, startled at the splash,
then he would have listened and have sniffed the air, and neither
hearing nor scenting any danger he must have remained rigid for some
moments, for it was in that attitude that Athelvok found him as he
emerged breathless at his feet. And, striking at once, Athelvok drove
the spear into his throat before the head and the terrible horns came
down. But Athelvok had clung to one of the great horns, and had been
carried at terrible speed through the rhododendron bushes until the
gariach fell, but rose at once again, and died standing up, still
struggling, drowned in its own blood.
But to Hilnaric listening it was as though one of the heroes of old time
had come back again in the full glory of his legendary youth.
And long time they went up and down the terraces, saying those things
which were said before and since, and which lips shall yet be made to
say again. And above them stood Poltarnees beholding the Sea.
And the day came when Athelvok should go. And Hilnaric said to him:
“Will you not indeed most surely come back again, having just looked
over the summit of Poltarnees?”
Athelvok answered: “I will indeed come back, for thy voice is more
beautiful than the hymn of the priests when they chant and praise the
Sea, and though many tributary seas ran down into Oriathon and he and
all the others poured their beauty into one pool below me, yet would I
return swearing that thou wert fairer than they.”
And Hilnaric answered:
“The wisdom of my heart tells me, or old knowledge or prophecy, or some
strange lore, that I shall never hear thy voice again. And for this I
give thee my forgiveness.”
But he, repeating the oath that he had sworn, set out, looking often
backwards until the slope became too steep and his face was set to the
rock. It was in the morning that he started, and he climbed all the day
with little rest, where every foot-hole was smooth with many feet.
Before he reached the top the sun disappeared from him, and darker and
darker grew the Inner Lands. Then he pushed on so as to see before dark
whatever thing Poltarnees had to show. The dusk was deep over the Inner
Lands, and the lights of cities twinkled through the sea-mist when he
came to Poltarnees’s summit, and the sun before him was not yet gone
from the sky.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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