Pattern s-2 Read online

  Poldarn paused for breath, then went on: 'I'm not saying I've got the answer to every damn thing we might have to face, because that'd be stupid. I'm not saying you can't think of better ways of dealing with specific problems, because I'm absolutely certain you all know far more about your particular job or function than I ever will, and so it makes much more sense for you to work out the details, rather than me. What I'm asking you to go along with is the general idea. First things first, get the stock safe, and then the planted crop. Be ready in case we get the mudslides, yes, but don't let them paralyse you with fear, like a mouse cornered by a weasel. Really, it's just common sense.'

  That appeared to be all he had to say, so he sat down again. For what seemed like a very, very long time, nobody moved or spoke. Bloody hell, he said to himself, I've really done it this time. Then, just as he was wondering how he should set about apologising, Halder got up and looked round.

  'Well,' he said, 'that's what we'll do, then. After all, you're the one who knows about these things.'

  For a moment, Poldarn thought the old man was being funny. But if he was, nobody had got the joke. They didn't look particularly happy, but Poldarn could recognise resigned acceptance when he saw it. Amazing, he said to himself, I never knew I had such eloquence and leadership skills. Come to think of it, I'm not sure that's something I want to know about myself. Chances are if I've always had these qualities, I haven't done nice things with them.

  Then he noticed the expression on Eyvind's face, and wondered what on earth was going on. He had no idea why, but Eyvind was scowling at him with genuine anger. What did I say? He wondered. He's glaring at me like I just set light to his beard.

  'Right,' Halder went on, with an audible sigh, 'no use sitting here, we've got work to do. If anyone wants me, I'll be in the trap-house.'

  A few moments later, the hall was empty, except for Poldarn and Eyvind; and Eyvind hadn't shifted or changed the expression on his face.

  'Well,' Poldarn said, trying to keep the tension out of his voice, 'I didn't expect that.'

  'Really?' Eyvind's voice was unusually quiet and flat; usually, he didn't just talk, he performed. 'Seems to me it all went off exactly the way you'd have wanted it to. I mean, they're all out there doing as they're told, aren't they?'

  Poldarn shrugged. 'I suppose so,' he said. 'Though if they are, it beats me how. I mean, I was expecting we'd be here till midnight sorting out the details, like who's going with the herd, who's staying here, which jobs are essential and which ones we can put on hold for the time being. Instead-'

  'Not what you wanted, then.' Eyvind sounded like a man who was barely in control of his temper, words leaking out of him involuntarily. 'I can see that.'

  Poldarn knew it would have been better to let that go, but he was curious. 'What do you mean?' he asked.

  'You know perfectly bloody well.'

  'No.' Poldarn shook his head emphatically. 'I don't know, that's the point. Come on, you know as well as I do, I haven't got a clue how their minds work.'

  'Our minds, you mean. And it doesn't look that way to me.'

  Poldarn could feel an argument closing in, maybe even a fight. The question was whether he'd be able to get out of the way in time. 'Suit yourself,' he replied (and he knew at once that he'd used entirely the wrong tone). 'I'm just telling you, that's all. Really, I didn't mean to, well, take charge or anything. We were discussing what would be the best thing to do, and I gave my opinion. Honestly, I didn't mean anything by it.'

  'Sure.' Eyvind jumped to his feet, every aspect of the movement suggesting that he couldn't stand being in a confined space with Poldarn for one moment more. 'That's all right, then. I believe you. Now I think I'll go and get my horse saddled. Time I was going home, I reckon.'

  'Oh.' Poldarn hadn't been expecting that. 'I can understand you wanting to,' he went on. 'It's just that-well, you've been here ever since I arrived, I guess I've got used to depending on you-to explain things, tell me what's going on, let me know when I've done something ignorant or offensive. It'll be hard having to cope on my own.'

  'Really' Eyvind had his back to him now. 'Well, I'm sure you'll manage. After all, you've got them eating out of your hand, which suggests you're more or less settled in, doesn't it?'

  This is ridiculous, Poldarn thought. 'Look,' he said, 'I've obviously done something wrong. Would you mind telling me what it is?'

  He heard Eyvind sigh, though he couldn't see the other's face. 'It's not about right and wrong, you should know that by now. There's no such thing as wrong, standing all by itself, not connected to anything. You did what you felt you had to do. That's not wrong.'

  'But?'

  'I wouldn't have done it. Nor would anybody else, in your shoes. It's not how we go about things here.'

  Now Poldarn was starting to get angry. 'What isn't?' he insisted.

  'Forget it, will you? I mean,' Eyvind added quietly, 'that's what you're good at, forgetting things. Must be a wonderful knack to have, that.'

  More than anything, Poldarn wanted to hit him for that; he could feel how much satisfaction it would give him to drive his fist into the back of Eyvind's head. If anything ever seemed to be the right thing to do at a particular moment, that was it. Instead, he deliberately unclenched his hands. 'You may well be right,' he said. 'For some time, I've had this feeling that the reason why I can't remember anything is that deep down, I don't really want to; because whoever I used to be, I don't want to be him any more. I've got no idea if that's a sensible attitude or not. Really, all I can do is try and get along without hurting myself. Or anybody else, for that matter.'

  (That last bit hadn't been there in his mind, he'd had to add it deliberately and it hadn't sounded at all right. Not so good.)

  'Sure,' Eyvind said again, somehow contriving to bleach any hint of expression out of the word. 'Look.' He turned round, and Poldarn could see the strain in his face. 'Let me give you a bit of advice, just to show there's no ill feeling. Halder knows he's going to die soon; he was only hanging on because there wasn't anybody to take over from him, and then you turned up and he's been waiting to see if you'll shape up. But he won't last much longer, this bloody business with the mountain is going to kill him any day now; he knows it, everybody knows it-apart from you, apparently. When he dies, you'll be the farmer here, it'll be your house and your farm. Everybody knows that, too. So, if you start telling people what to do, naturally they're going to do it, because this is all new to us-I'm not just talking about the volcano, I mean this business of having to cope with things we don't know about or understand. But you-well, I don't think you really know any more about us than you did when you arrived. Oh, you've picked up a whole bunch of details, like a ball of wet dough picking up dust, but you've positively refused to join in or act like this is where you belong. Until now; and suddenly you're in charge, you're giving orders. Damn it, if I'd known you were going to do that, I'd have left you behind at Deymeson.'

  Poldarn could feel anger building up inside him, a massive force of rage and fury pressing against his chest, making it hard for him to breathe. 'I'm really sorry you feel that way,' he said, 'and if I'd known, of course I wouldn't have said anything. I promise you, I won't do it again if it bothers you so much. Does that make it any better, or are you still mad at me?'

  Eyvind shook his head. 'I don't know about you, really,' he said. 'First time we met, remember, I tried to kill you. And you killed Cetel, my best friend who I'd known since I was a kid-in self-defence, sure, and neither of us had a clue at the time who you were, so I'm not blaming you or anything. But at the time I had a feeling that we weren't going to turn out to be lucky for each other, one way or another. Oddly enough, it was you I felt sorry for. I got the impression you'd come out worse for us having met. But then again, I get these feelings every now and again, and nineteen times out of twenty they're just plain wrong.'

  Poldarn wanted the anger to go away, but it wouldn't. 'One in twenty,' he said. 'That's a lousy average. In fact, it
means that when you get one of these premonitions, there's a ninety-five per cent chance it isn't going to come true, so it looks like the best odds are that neither of us is going to come to a bad end. Excellent. You've cheered me up no end.'

  Eyvind's face cracked into a smile. 'That's certainly one way of looking at it,' he said. 'But I really do think it's time I went home, just to have a look, see how they're getting on. Soon as I'm sure they're all right I'll come back. Will that do you?'

  Poldarn nodded. 'That'll be fine,' he said. 'And I'm sorry I freaked you out like that. I just didn't know, that's all-which is why I need to have you around, to warn me about all this stuff. Otherwise, God only knows what damage I could do without realising.'

  'You'll be fine, trust me,' Eyvind said, slapping Poldarn hard on the shoulder. It was, of course, the friendliest of gestures, but all Poldarn wanted to do was hit back, hard. He had just enough self-control to keep his hands by his sides. 'And anyway, I was wrong, probably. After all, that plan you came up with is pretty good-better than the alternatives, at any rate. That's the trouble with us all thinking basically the same way, we don't have the capacity to come up with original ideas. Not that we need them in the usual course of things; they only make life difficult.' He laughed. 'You know, I bet you think we're all weird.'

  'Yes,' Poldarn said. 'Almost as weird as me. Mind you, I didn't find the Empire was all that rational, if you see what I mean.'

  Eyvind stifled a yawn, and Poldarn realised that he hadn't had more than a few hours' sleep over the past few days. 'Maybe there's a place somewhere where everybody acts in a sensible, logical fashion and everything's just fine as a result. Let's just hope they never get it into their heads to invade, because we wouldn't stand a chance.'

  The livestock was gone by next morning, along with a third of the men and most of the boys. Rook said they were headed north-west into the open country beyond the Tabletop mountains. 'Good grazing land out that way, I've heard,' he said. 'Better than these parts, by all accounts. Never been that way myself, but I once met a man who had. He liked it out there, reckoned that if he ever branched out on his own, that's where he'd probably go. Big plains, low hills, lots of woods, plenty of water. I've always had a fancy to see it, but the chance never came up.'

  Poldarn nodded. 'So who lives there?' he asked.

  'Nobody.'

  'Oh.' That seemed strange. 'Why not?'

  Rook shrugged. 'We haven't got there yet,' he replied. 'In a hundred years, maybe, when we've used up all the space between here and there.' He grinned. 'I heard an old boy say once, this island is so big you'd be an old man before you walked from one side to the other. He reckoned he'd talked to a man once who tried to sail all the way round it, just to see how big it is. He was gone for six months, and when he came back he said he'd just carried on going north until his crew reckoned they'd had enough, so he turned round and came back. Wonderful country up north, he said, bloody great big forests of cedar and maple, and grapevines growing wild with grapes on 'em the size of duck eggs. Makes you wonder why we stick around here, with that thing-' he nodded at the mountain '-breathing fire and shitting ash on us. Still, I'm in no hurry to move on, not just yet. Around here suits me fine.'

  Scraping up the ash proved to be harder than anyone had imagined. Asburn vanished into the forge and came out a day later with a massive iron rake-head, twice the size and weight of the regular farm version, which had proved to be far too flimsy and small for the job. His next effort was a third wider again, and was declared satisfactory by Halder and the raking crews. Poldarn, who'd never been so tired in his life after a day behind a farm rake on the lower home meadow, was actually glad to be back in the forge, swinging the big hammer for Asburn as he struggled to meet the demand for his new invention.

  'Very simple, really,' Asburn said, when Poldarn asked him how the things were made. 'Take a good heavy bar, about three fingers wide; good steel if we've got it, something like a mill spindle or a waterwheel axle. First, make your socket; then take a good yellow heat about a forearm long, split the bar with the hot sett, bend the legs out at right angles and twist 'em half a turn, put the flatter on 'em and punch your holes for the tines; ordinary chain stock for the tines, a little finger long and thick, just draw 'em out, swage down a tenon to fit the hole, then rivet 'em in hard. Harden and temper, and that's all there is to it.'

  Poldarn had come to dread that last phrase; but all that was asked of him was to hit the hot metal as hard as he could, so he didn't really care. For once, Asburn was working hard and fast, not stopping to measure up every five minutes or to agonise over a slightly asymmetrical taper or a tiny ding from a misplaced hammer strike. In this mood, he worked so fast that Poldarn's arms started to hurt and the side of his right little finger chafed into a long, fat blister; but it was better than standing around. What mattered was that he was working, helping, contributing, earning his keep 'Are you sure you don't mind doing this?' Asburn said, as they waited for the steel to get hot. Asburn was working the bellows with his left hand, making it look as easy as swishing a fan on a pleasantly warm day. Poldarn had had to give up that duty on grounds of exhaustion. 'I mean, it's very kind of you, but don't they need you in the fields, or in the house?'

  'Need me for what?' Poldarn replied, as he bound his blistered finger with a piece of rag.

  'Well, to sort things out, make sure it's all being done right. After all, it's all your ideas, surely you should be there.'

  Poldarn sighed. 'They seem to be getting on just fine without me,' he said. 'In fact, nobody's asked me about anything since the meeting. Which is good,' he added, 'because they know what needs to be done and I don't. I really wish I'd kept my face shut at that meeting-all I did was give people the wrong idea about me. I think Eyvind was ready to smash my face in at one point.'

  Asburn frowned. 'I don't understand,' he said. 'What, do you mean he was angry or something?'

  'You could say that, yes.'

  'But why? What was there to be angry about?'

  Poldarn laughed. 'Pretty much everything I said, I think. And, looking back, I can see his point. After all, it's not for me to come in here telling everybody what to do. God only knows what got into me.'

  Asburn shook his head. 'That's not how it was,' he said. 'After all, you're Halder's next of kin, when he's gone you'll be the farmer. Of course it's your place to speak for us. I mean,' he went on, drawing the billet out an inch or so to check on its colour, 'it's not like you were ordering us about; and even if that's what you were trying to do-well, it'd never work, it'd be like trying to harden soft iron, it simply wouldn't take.'

  Poldarn raised an eyebrow.

  'I guess it's a bit like this,' Asburn said. 'And I'm really not sure if this makes any sense, because to tell you the truth I've never really had to think about this sort of thing before, like you don't have to think about how to breathe, you just do it. But anyway; suppose Haldersness is a man's body. We're all the different parts of it-hands, feet, joints, bones, muscles, lungs and so on. Halder's the head, and you'll be the head when he's gone. The head doesn't tell the feet what to do, it's just the part of the body where the command comes from. Otherwise it'd be like saying that if you punched someone, it was your hand's fault, not yours. Oh shit,' he added, jerking the billet out of the fire; there were tiny white sparkles dancing on the extreme end, where the steel was thinnest. 'Serves me right for chattering,' he added, swinging the billet through the air and laying it across the beak of the anvil at precisely the right angle. 'When you're ready.'