The Days of the Deer (10 page)

The warrior waited for the blood to settle in his throat. He knew that his words would be hard to speak.

‘I do not know you,’ he said.

Kume was in disgrace. If he did not live long enough to wipe out the stain of his dishonour, he would die without a name. Old Mother Kush could not hold back a sob. The father was disowning the
son. And although none of them realized it, that increased the power of their enemy even before he had set sail.

9

A long while later, the Husihuilke family and Cucub were sitting in a semicircle
on rugs, eating red prickly pears. Kume was not with them: he could no longer share the
warmth of the fire. How different this was from previous nights they had spent together! Evenings of friendship, perfumed with laurel, when Kush told stories or played her pan-pipes late into the
night. Would they ever return?

Cucub would have gladly interceded on Kume’s behalf, and yet he refrained from doing so. He had learnt enough about the Husihuilkes to know his defence would be in vain. The Zitzahay
wondered how he could ease the sadness of these good people, and decided the best thing would be to talk about other things.

‘It may be that you all would like to hear certain details,’ he said. ‘I would be happy to tell you about how I went from being a minstrel to becoming a messenger. And if there
is time, I can tell you about the most exciting parts of my journey here.’

None of them was sleepy, and the Zitzahay deserved some reward for the unjust way he had been treated.

‘Tell us about them, if you so wish,’ Dulkancellin agreed.

So Cucub began his story, which no one interrupted.

‘I was in a town we call Centipede Yellow when I received the order to go to the House of the Stars. Since that is in Beleram, two suns away from where I was, I set off at once. I was very
sorry to leave the wedding at Centipede Yellow where my flute and I were the guests of honour. Oh well, I told myself, you have no choice! Someone else can provide the music for the celebrations.
Walking day and night, I reached Beleram sooner than I expected. Would you believe me if I tell you I did not even stop at the river? I crossed two villages near the city, then the orange groves
that surround it. I walked down the street to the market, then across the games court, and the main square. I paused for breath outside the House of the Stars. I was glad I did, because I still had
to climb the flights of stairs leading to its entrance. You will soon see it, Dulkancellin! There are thirteen times twenty steps, built into the side of a hill. To climb them I had to rest more
often than I had done in my whole journey there, but eventually I reached the top and called my name. You all should see that place! It is partly excavated from the rock, and partly a stone wall.
The main entrance to the House of the Stars opens onto an enormous empty chamber, with no more decoration than the shafts of light that pour in through the narrow windows and glint off the stones.
As I was waiting for the guard who had taken my name to reappear, several young apprentices went by. They were all in a great hurry: they went down one staircase and up another one on the other
side, came out through one interior door and disappeared through another. And to tell the truth, none of them was the slightest bit interested in me. The guard finally returned. “Follow me,
Zabralkán is expecting you,” I remember he told me.

‘We went up one of the lateral staircases. We climbed and climbed. Every so often, the guard stopped to allow me to rest. From the way he kept glancing back at me, he must have thought I
did not have the strength to get to the top. He let me get my breath back, then on we went. How much further? How could I convince my knees to support me a little longer? At the top of every set of
steps there was a room. As I paused, I managed to see inside some of them, but most had their doors shut. I do not know if it was because I felt so exhausted or because of the twists and turns of
our climb, but I could not understand how the House of the Stars was built, especially since it grew narrower and darker with every step. Were we penetrating inside the hill? If that was the case,
how was it that I could see the sky through narrow slits in the walls? After a while I ceased to care. The guard and I continued our climb. There were no more resting places or rooms; the walls
closed in on the stairs, which grew steeper and steeper. And poor Cucub here was longing for the open air. “We’ve arrived,” was the last thing I heard. I was exhausted after
several days’ walking and the endless stairway: I collapsed.

‘I came to in a large room, with protruding window openings. Once I had properly regained consciousness, I realized I was in an observatory. What I had taken for windows were in fact
observation points. I would love to describe all the details of that magnificent place for you, but I can see that Wilkilén has already fallen asleep, and my experience as a story-teller
suggests I need to be brief.

‘I told you I found myself in an observatory. I should add that the only person with me, watching me come round, was Zabralkán. He and I had never come face to face before. Let me
explain that there was nothing unusual in this, because it is the custom in Beleram for musicians, jugglers and story-tellers to congregate on ceremonial days on the enormous platform that runs
round the House of the Stars. These were splendid celebrations when Zabralkán, one of the greatest of the Supreme Astronomers, would honour me in particular among all the artists of the
Remote Realm. How could I possibly forget those days? Hundreds of torches were lit along the main street to light the path of the night-time processions that wound their way down from the remote
villages. Careful, Cucub! You’re falling into the temptation of trying to describe every detail again. If I do it once more, don’t hesitate to tell me so.

‘Did I mention that Zabralkán is the greatest of the Supreme Astronomers? What I am sure I have not told you is how embarrassed I felt comparing his proud bearing with my own ragged
appearance after such a long journey. Yet I soon calmed down when I saw that Zabralkán was not interested in how I looked. Filling a bowl with sweetened pumpkin, the Astronomer offered it
me. After the first few sips I felt restored. By the time the bowl was empty I felt capable of walking back to Centipede Yellow there and then. I told Zabralkán as much, and he smiled. But
look at Kuy-Kuyen! She is smiling too ... she must be having a pleasant dream. Even so, as I can see that there are still more people awake than asleep, it is worth my while continuing.

‘The Supreme Astronomer was pacing round a big rectangular stone block in the centre of the observatory. The block stood let’s say a hand-span from the ground. It was three times
longer than it was wide, and was covered in carvings. You can imagine how many of them there were if I tell you that I started at the drooping head of a snake at one end and, although I did my best
to follow its body through images of birds and deer, stars and moons, as well as indecipherable signs and garlands of flowers, I soon lost track of it. Weary of watching my attempts,
Zabralkán told me to desist. “You can look for the serpent’s tail later,” I remember he told me. “Now we must talk of important matters.” He began to explain
what all of us here are well aware of: that there was important news to communicate, which was destined for only a chosen few to hear; that messengers were to be sent out ... that great events were
imminent, and so on and so forth. That I should be back in time for the Great Council ... and that I had been appointed as a messenger!

‘Do you recall, Dulkancellin, that you asked Kupuka why you had been chosen to represent the Husihuilke people? Well, I asked the same question of Zabralkán: why choose me as a
messenger? The only reply either of us received was an order. And after that, many more. First, that I was not to leave the House of the Stars until the day of my departure for the Ends of the
Earth. It’s true that I was looked after most exquisitely. I slept in a soft bed and was well fed; but I was also given endless instructions. Hour after hour of explanations, details of my
journey, warnings. Afterwards, poor me! They made me repeat everything to make sure I had properly understood. Then the next day, we started all over again. They often changed something from what
they had told me the previous day, to be sure I was paying attention. They made false statements and asked trick questions; they presented complex problems and absurd solutions. On and on, until
they finally accepted that Cucub was ready to face his demanding mission.

‘I learnt that in the same House of the Stars, perhaps close by me, other messengers were undergoing the same training, and yet I never saw any of them. I also learnt from Zabralkán
that one of them was heading for the Land Without Shadow to look for the Pastors of the Desert. I thought that as we were travelling the same path, we could go together. I would have been pleased
to have someone to share songs, bread and fear with along the way, but it was not to be. Did he leave before me? Or after me? I have no idea. All I can say with any certainty is that only my soul
and I travelled from the staircase of the House of the Stars to this hut.

‘I left Beleram at first light one morning. I remember I saw several men raking the games court, and some stallholders just arriving at the market. I have to admit I paused at a food stall
to buy a tortilla. That pause was not part of my itinerary, but how often the smell of that tortilla gave me the strength to carry on!’

Cucub’s story gradually filled the room with apparitions. When the Zitzahay mentioned the tortilla, they all licked their lips at the thought of the perfumed delicacy. When their mouths
were dry again, their ears were deafened by the sound of thousands of birds from the most beautiful valley in the world which came to revive the flagging fire. When the Zitzahay spoke of the hair
of the fish-women in the wind, the men conjured them up in their minds. When he recalled the sun in the desert, they all loosened their cloaks. The flock of llamels Cucub rounded up with his words
took a long while to leave, crammed as they were into the small wooden house. In the end, an eagle came and perched on Kush’s pile of blankets, then vanished again. But the forest at the Ends
of the Earth was still there, and seemed more familiar than ever thanks to the Zitzahay’s words.

‘The landscape guided me so well,’ Cucub went on, ‘that I started to sing as I walked, just like I used to do in my own land. Thanks to that, I was able to tell quite clearly
at every moment how far the Husihuilke villages were from me. Although I never saw them, I could stretch my arm out and point to them: one here, another over there, calculating the distance they
were from my song.

‘The Supreme Astronomers told me many things about the Ends of the Earth. For an unknown reason, some came back to me more than others as I travelled through the forest. “The Marshy
River separates the Land Without Shadow from the Ends of the Earth. That is where the Husihuilkes live and die. Their villages are grouped around a family clan. Each clan has the same founding
ancestor who unites each family through blood and war. These family clans are all Husihuilkes. But these ancestors also make them adversaries ...”

‘I am repeating here exactly what I was told by the Astronomers, without adding or omitting anything. Often when I rested, their words came back to me. As I sat high in a tree, searching
the sky for a familiar star to light the way for me, I could hear the voices of Bor and Zabralkán: “The Marshy River separates ...” And during those nights, even though it may be
hard to believe, I thought of Dulkancellin. That’s right, warrior, I thought of you, and wondered what kind of man you were. Not just any man, obviously, if you had been chosen to represent
your neighbours and your adversaries at the Great Council.

‘As I understand it, there are clans linked by honour or family ties between their original leaders. And there are others which, despite having been bitter rivals, have put an end to the
wars by marrying their sons and daughters. But it was also explained to me that some clans will not accept any alliances beyond that of their blood mingling on the battlefield, or any pact apart
from the truce agreed so that each side can carry off their dead.

‘Dulkancellin will have to take weighty decisions in the name of everyone. This man I have come to find, I remember telling myself whilst waiting for sleep to come, this man will have to
be able to do so without disregarding anyone.

‘The first part of my journey, from the dawn when I left the House of the Stars until the moment I crossed the bridge over the Marshy River, took me thirteen times ten days, plus another
nine. Each day was a notch on my belt. The next stage, from the southern end of the bridge to the door of your house, took me only half that time. Not that the distances were very different,
because the river is almost halfway here. No, it was because it was so much easier to make progress through the forest than through the desert.

‘It was no lie when I said that my journey through the forest was untroubled. Despite this I could tell you any number of stories about things that happened on the way, finishing off with
the tale of how I rested very close to here to check that the Kukul feather was where it was meant to be. But I will not go into all that. I’ll omit those details, and come quickly to the
point where the warrior opened the door to me, and after having travelled for two hundred and nine suns when all I had seen was my own reflection in water, I saw another human face once more.