Current Shareware 1994 January/SHAR194.ISO/textfile/dunsany1.zip/POLTRNES.TXT

Text File | 1993-06-08 | 24KB | 435 lines

                   Poltarnees, Beholder of
                            Ocean

                       by Lord Dunsany


Toldees, Mondath, Arizim, these are the Inner Lands, the
lands whose sentinels upon their borders do not behold the
sea.  Beyond them to the east there lies a desert, for ever
untroubled by man: all yellow it is, and spotted with
shadows of stones, and Death is in it, like a leopard lying
in the sun.  To the south they are bounded by magic, to the
west by a mountain, and to the north by the voice and anger
of the Polar wind.  Like a great wall is the mountain to the
west.  It comes up out of the distance and goes down into
the distance again, and it is named Poltarnees, Beholder of
Ocean.  To the northward red rocks, smooth and bare of soil,
and without any speck of moss or herbage, slope up to the
very lips of the Polar wind, and there is nothing else there
but the noise of his anger.  Very peaceful are the Inner
Lands, and very fair are their cities, and there is no war
among them, but quiet and ease.  And they have no enemy but
age, for thirst and fever lie sunning themselves out in the
mid-desert, and never prowl into the Inner Lands.  And the
ghouls and ghosts, whose highway is the night, are kept in
the south by the boundary of magic.  And very small are
their pleasant cities, and all men are known to one another
therein, and bless one another by name as they meet in the
streets.  And they have a broad, green way in every city
that comes in out of some vale or wood or downland, and
wanders in and out about the city between the houses and
across the streets; and the people walk along it never at
all, but every year at her appointed time Spring walks along
it from the flowery lands, causing the anemone to bloom on
the green way and all the early joys of hidden woods, or
deep, secluded vales, or triumphant downlands, whose heads
lift up so proudly, far up aloof from cities.
   Sometimes waggoners or shepherds walk along this way,
they that have come into the city from over cloudy ridges,
and the townsmen hinder them not, for there is a tread that
troubleth the grass and a tread that troubleth it not, and
each man in his own heart knoweth which tread he hath.  And
in the sunlit spaces of the weald and in the wold's dark
places, afar from the music of cities and from the dance of
the cities afar, they make there the music of the country
places and dance the country dance.  Amiable, near and
friendly appears to these men the sun, and as he is genial
to them and tends their younger vines, so they are kind to
the little woodland things and any rumour of the fairies or
old legend.  And when the light of some little distant city
makes a slight flush upon the edge of the sky, and the happy
golden windows of the homesteads stare gleaming into the
dark, then the old and holy figure of Romance, cloaked even
to the face, comes down out of hilly woodlands and bids dark
shadows to rise and dance, and sends the forest creatures
forth to prowl, and lights in a moment in her bower of grass
the little glowworm's lamp, and brings a hush down over the
grey lands, and out of it rises faintly on far-off hills the
voice of a lute.  There are not in the world lands more
prosperous and happy than Toldees, Mondath, Arizim.
   From these three little kingdoms that are named the Inner
Lands the young men stole constantly away.  One by one they
went, and no one knew why they went save that they had a
longing to behold the Sea.  Of this longing they spoke
little, but a young man would become silent for a few days,
and then, one morning very early, he would slip away and
slowly climb Poltarnees's difficult slope, and having
attained the top pass over and never return.  A few stayed
behind in the Inner Lands and became old men, but none that
had ever climbed Poltarnees from the very earliest times had
ever come back again.  Many had gone up Poltarnees sworn to
return.  Once a king sent all his courtiers, one by one, to
report the mystery to him, and then went himself; none ever
returned.
   Now, it was the wont of the folk of the Inner Lands to
worship rumours and legends of the Sea, and all that their
prophets discovered of the Sea was writ in a sacred book,
and with deep devotion on days of festival or mourning read
in the temples by the priests.  Now, all their temples lay
open to the west, resting upon pillars, that the breeze from
the Sea might enter them, and they lay open on pillars to
the east that the breezes of the Sea might not be hindered
but pass onward wherever the Sea list.  And this is the
legend they had of the sea, whom none in the Inner Lands had
ever beholden.  They say that the Sea is a river heading
towards Hercules, and they say that he touches against the
edge of the world, and that Poltarnees looks upon him.  They
say that all the worlds of heaven go bobbing on this river
and are swept down with the stream, and that Infinity is
thick and furry with forests through which the river in his
course sweeps on with all the worlds of heaven.  Among the
colossal trunks of those dark trees, the smallest fronds of
whose branches are many nights, there walk the gods.  And
whenever its thirst, glowing in space like a great sun,
comes upon the beast, the tiger of the gods creeps down to
the river to drink.  And the tiger of the gods his fill
loudly, whelming worlds the while, and the level of the
river sinks between its banks ere the beast's thirst is
quenched and ceases to glow like a sun.  And many worlds
thereby are heaped up dry and stranded, and the gods walk
not among them evermore, because they are hard to their
feet.  These are the worlds that have no destiny, whose
people know no god.  And the river sweeps onwards ever.  And
the name of the river is Oriathon, but men call it Ocean.
This is the Lower Faith of the Inner lands.  And there is a
Higher Faith which is not told to all.  According to the
Higher Faith of the Inner Lands the river Oriathon sweeps on
through the forests of Infinity and all at once falls
roaring over an Edge, whence Time has long ago recalled his
hours to fight in his war with the gods; and falls unlit by
the flash of nights and days, with his flood unmeasured by
miles, into the deeps of nothing.
   Now as the centuries went by and the one way by which a
man could climb Poltarnees became worn with feet, more and
more men surmounted it, not to return.  And still they knew
not in the Inner Lands upon what mystery Poltarnees looked.
For on a still day and windless, while men walked happily
about their beautiful streets or tended flocks in the
country, suddenly the west wind would bestir himself and
come in from the Sea.  And he would come cloaked and grey
and mournful and carry to someone the hungry cry of the Sea
calling out for bones of men.  And he that heard it would
move restlessly for some hours, and at last would rise
suddenly, irresistibly up, setting his face to Poltarnees,
and would say, as is the custom of those lands when men part
briefly, "Till a man's heart remembereth," which means,
"Farewell for a while;" but those that loved him, seeing his
eyes on Poltarnees, would answer sadly, "Till the gods
forget," which means "Farewell."
   Now the King of Arizim had a daughter who played with the
wild wood flowers, and with the fountains in her father's
court, and with the little blue heaven-birds that came to
her doorway in the winter to shelter from the snow.  And she
was more beautiful than the wild wood flowers, or than all
the fountains in her father's court, or than the blue
heaven-birds in their full winter plumage when they shelter
from the snow.  The old wise kings of Mondath and of Toldees
saw her once as she went lightly down the little paths of
her garden, and, turning their gaze into the mists of
thought, pondered the destiny of their Inner Lands.  And
they watched her closely by the stately flowers, and
standing alone in the sunlight, and passing and repassing
the strutting purple birds that the king's fowlers had
brought from Asagehon.  When she was of the age of fifteen
years the King of Mondath called a council of kings.  And
there met with him the kings of Toldees and Arizim.  And the
King of Mondath in his Council said:
   "The call of the unappeased and hungry Sea" (and at the
word `Sea' the three kings bowed their heads) "lures every
year out of our happy kingdoms more and more of our men, and
still we know not the mystery of the Sea, and no devised
oath has brought one man back.  Now thy daughter, Arizim, is
lovelier than the sunlight, and lovelier than those stately
flowers of thine that stand so tall in her garden, and hath
more grace and beauty than those strange birds that the
venturous fowlers bring in creaking waggons out of Asagehon,
whose feathers are alternate purple and white.  Now, he that
shall love thy daughter, Hilnaric, whoever he shall be, is
the man to climb Poltarnees and return, as none hath ever
before, and tell us upon what Poltarnees looks; for it may
be that thy daughter is more beautiful than the Sea."
   Then from his Seat of Council arose the King of Arizim.
He said: "I fear that thou hast spoken blasphemy against the
Sea, and I have a dread that ill will come of it.  Indeed I
had not thought she was so fair.  It is such a short while
ago that she was quite a small child with her hair still
unkempt and not yet attired in the manner of princesses, and
she would go up into the wild woods unattended and come back
with her robes unseemly and all torn, and would not take
reproof with humble spirit, but made grimaces even in my
marble court all set about with fountains."
   Then said the King of Toldees:
   "Let us watch more closely and let us see the Princess
Hilnaric in the season of the orchard-bloom when the great
birds go by that know the Sea, to rest in our inland places;
and if she be more beautiful than the sunrise over our
folded kingdoms when all the orchards bloom, it may be that
she is more beautiful than the Sea."
   And the King of Arizim said:
   "I fear this is terrible blasphemy, yet I will do as you
have decided in council."
   And the season of the orchard-bloom appeared.  One night
the King of Arizim called his daughter forth on to his outer
balcony of marble.  And the moon was rising huge and round
and holy over dark woods, and all the fountains were singing
to the night.  And the moon touched the marble palace
gables, and they glowed in the land.  And the moon touched
the heads of all the fountains, and the grey columns broke
into fairy lights.  And the moon left the dark ways of the
forest and lit the whole white palace and its fountains and
shone on the forehead of the Princess, and the palace of
Arizim glowed afar, and the fountains became columns of
gleaming jewels and song.  And the moon made a music at his
rising, but it fell a little short of mortal ears.  And
Hilnaric stood there wondering, clad in white, with the
moonlight shining on her forehead; and watching her from the
shadows on the terrace stood the kings of Mondath and
Toldees.  They said:
   "She is more beautiful than the moonrise."
   And on another day the King of Arizim bade his daughter
forth at dawn, and they stood again upon the balcony.  And
the sun came up over a world of orchards, and the sea-mists
went back over Poltarnees to the Sea; little wild voices
arose in all the thickets, the voices of the fountains began
to die, and the song arose, in all the marble temples, of
the birds that are sacred to the Sea.  And Hilnaric stood
there, still glowing with dreams of heaven.
   "She is more beautiful," said the kings, "than morning."
   Yet one more trial they made of Hilnaric's beauty, for
they watched her on the terraces at sunset ere the petals of
the orchards had fallen, and all along the edge of
neighbouring woods the rhododendron was blooming with the
azalea.  And the sun went down under craggy Poltarnees, and
the sea-mist poured over his summit inland.  And the marble
temples stood up clear in the evening, but films of twilight
were drawn between the mountain and the city.  Then from the
Temple ledges and eaves of palaces the bats fell headlong
downwards, then spread their wings and floated up and down
through darkening ways; lights came blinking out in golden
windows, men cloaked themselves against the grey sea-mist,
the sound of small songs arose, and the face of Hilnaric
became a resting-place for mysteries and dreams.
   "Than all these things," said the kings, "she is more
lovely: but who can say whether she is lovelier than the
Sea?"
   Prone in a rhododendron thicket at the edge of the palace
lawns a hunter had waited since the sun went down.  Near to
him was a deep pool in where the hyacinths grew and strange
flowers floated upon it with broad leaves, and there the
great bull gariachs came down to drink by starlight, and,
waiting there for the gariachs to come, he saw the white
form of the Princess leaning on her balcony.  Before the
stars shone out or the bulls came down to drink he left his
lurking-place and moved closer to the palace to see more
nearly the Princess.  The palace lawns were full of
untrodden dew, and everything was still when he came across
them, holding his great spear.  In the farthest corner of
the terraces the three old kings were discussing the beauty
of Hilnaric and the destiny of the Inner Lands.  Moving
lightly, with a hunter's tread, the watcher by the pool came
very near, even in the still evening, before the Princess
saw him.  When he saw her closely he exclaimed suddenly:
   "She must be more beautiful than the Sea."
   When the Princess turned and saw his garb and his great
spear she knew that he was a hunter of gariachs.
   When the three kings heard the young man exclaim they
said softly to one another:
   "This must be the man."
   Then they revealed themselves to him, and spoke to try
him.  They said:
   "Sir, you have spoken blasphemy against the Sea."
   And the young man muttered:
   "She is more beautiful than the Sea."
   And the kings said:
   "We are older than you and wiser, and know that nothing
is more beautiful than the Sea."
   And the young man took off the gear of his head, and
became downcast, and knew that he spake with kings, yet he
answered:
   "By this spear, she is more beautiful than the Sea."
   And all the while the Princess stared at him, knowing him
to be a hunter of gariachs.
   Then the King of Arizim said to the watcher by the pool:
   "If thou wilt go up Poltarnees and come back, as none
have come, and report to us what lure or magic is in the
Sea, we will pardon thy blasphemy, and thou shalt have the
Princess to wife and sit among the Council of the Kings."
   And gladly thereunto the young man consented.  And the
Princess spoke to him, and asked him his name.  And he told
her that his name was Athelvok, and great joy arose in him
at the sound of her voice.  And to the three kings he
promised to set out on the third day to scale the slope of
Poltarnees and to return again, and this was the oath by
which they bound him to return:
   "I swear by the Sea that bears the worlds away, by the
river of Oriathon, which men call Ocean, and by the gods and
their tiger, and by the doom of the worlds, that I will
return again to the Inner Lands, having beheld the Sea."
   And that oath he swore with solemnity that very night in
one of the temples of the Sea, but the three kings trusted
more to the beauty of Hilnaric even than to the power of the
oath.
   The next day Athelvok came to the palace of Arizim with
the morning, over the fields to the East and out of the
country of Toldees, and Hilnaric came out along her balcony
and met him on the terraces.  And she asked him if he had
ever slain a gariach, and he said that he had slain three,
and then he told her how he had killed his first down by the
pool in the wood.  For he had taken his father's spear and
gone down to the edge of the pool, and had lain under the
azaleas there waiting for the stars to shine, by whose first
light the gariachs go to the pools to drink; and he had gone
too early and had had long to wait, and the passing hours
seemed longer than they were.  And all the birds came in
that home at night, and the bat was abroad, and the hour of
the duck went by, and still no gariach came down to the
pool; and Athelvok felt sure that none would come.  And just
as this grew to a certainty in his mind the thicket parted
noiselessly and a huge bull gariach stood facing him on the
edge of the water, and his great horns swept out sideways
from his head, and at the ends curved upwards, and were four
strides in width from tip to tip.  And he had not seen
Athelvok, for the great bull was on the far side of the
little pool, and Athelvok could not creep round to him for
fear of meeting the wind (for the gariachs, who can see
little in the dark forests, rely on hearing and smell).  But
he devised swiftly in his mind while the bull stood there
with head erect just twenty strides from him across the
water.  And the bull sniffed the wind cautiously and
listened, then lowered its great head down to the pool and
drank.  At that instant Athelvok leapt into the water and
shot forward through its weedy depths among the stems of the
strange flowers that floated upon broad leaves on the
surface.  And Athelvok kept his spear out straight before
him, and the fingers of his left hand he held rigid and
straight, not pointing upwards, and so did not come to the
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 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 foothole 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.
   And there below him was the old wrinkled Sea, smiling and
murmuring song.  And he nursed little ships with gleaming
sails, and in his hands were old regretted wrecks, and masts
all studded over with golden nails that he had rent in anger
out of beautiful galleons.  And the glory of the sun was
among the surges as they brought driftwood out of isles of
spice, tossing their golden heads.  And the grey currents
crept away to the south like companionless serpents that
love something afar with a restless, deadly love.  And the
whole plain of water glittering with late sunlight, and the
surges and the currents and the white sails of ships were
all together like the face of a strange new god that has
looked a man for the first time in the eyes at the moment of
his death; and Athelvok, looking on the wonderful Sea, knew
why it was that the dead never return, for there is
something that the dead feel and know, and the living would
never understanding even though the dead should come and
speak to them about it.  And there was the Sea smiling at
him, glad with the glory of the sun.  And there was a haven
there for homing ships, and a sunlit city stood upon its
marge, and people walked about the streets of it clad in the
unimagined merchandise of far sea-bordering lands.
   An easy slope of loose crumbled rock went from the top of
Poltarnees to the shore of the Sea.
   For a long while Athelvok stood there regretfully,
knowing that there had come something into his soul that no
one in the Inner Lands could understand, where the thoughts
of their minds had gone no farther than the three little
kingdoms.  Then, looking long upon the wandering ships, and
the marvellous merchandise from alien lands, and the unknown
colour that wreathed the brows of the Sea, he turned his
face to the darkness and the Inner Lands.
   At that moment the Sea rang a dirge at sunset for all the
harm that he had done in anger and all the ruin wrought on
adventurous ships; and there were tears in the voice of the
tyrannous Sea, for he had loved the galleons that he had
overwhelmed, and he called all men to him and all living
things that he might make amends, because he had loved the
bones that he had strewn afar.  And Athelvok turned and set
one foot upon the crumbled slope, and then another, and
walked a little way to be nearer to the Sea, and then a
dream came upon him and he felt that men had wronged the
lovely Sea because he had been angry a little, because he
had been sometimes cruel; he felt that there was trouble
among the tides of the Sea because he had loved the galleons
who were dead.  Still he walked on, and the crumbled stones
rolled with him, and just as the twilight faded and a star
appeared he came to the golden shore, and walked on till the
surges were about his knees, and he heard the prayer-like
blessings of the Sea.  Long he stood thus, while the stars
came out above him and shone again in the surges; more stars
came wheeling in their courses up from the Sea, lights
twinkled out through all the haven city, lanterns were slung
from the ships, the purple night burned on; and Earth, to
the eyes of the gods as they sat afar, glowed as with one
flame.  Then Athelvok went into the haven city; there he met
many who had left the Inner Lands before him; none of them
wished to return to the people who had not seen the Sea;
many of them had forgotten the three little kingdoms, and it
was rumoured that one man, who had once tried to return, had
found the shifting, crumbled slope impossible to climb.
   Hilnaric never married.  But her dowry was set aside to
build a temple wherein men curse the ocean.
   Once a year, with solemn rite and ceremony, they curse
the tides of the Sea; and the moon looks in and hates them.