There was a light knock at the door. Siristrou looked up and, not calling to mind the Beklan for 'Come in', made a noise which he hoped was expressive of encouragement and assent. One of the serving-children opened the door, raised her palm to her forehead and stood aside to admit the biggest man Siristrou had ever seen. His leather jerkin, which bore the emblem of the Bear and Corn-Sheaves, seemed ready to split across his massive chest, and his skin breeches – apparently made for a man of more normal size – reached about half-way down his calves. Over one shoulder he was carrying easily a large and extremely full-looking sack. He grinned cheerfully at Siristrou, raised his palm to his forehead and said, 'Crendro.'
This word was unknown to Siristrou, but as it was evidently a greeting he replied 'Crendro' and waited expectantly. His visitor's next utterance, however, beat him altogether and he could only conclude that he must be speaking in some strange tongue or dialect.
'Can you speak Beklan?' he asked haltingly. 'I understand – a little Beklan.'
'Why, me too, my lord,' answered the giant, dropping into mangled but comprehensible Beklan with another amiable smile. 'Living here, you can't help picking it up after a fashion. Ah, it's a strange town, this is, and that's the truth. So you're the foreign prince, eh, that's come over on the ferry? 'Going to make all our fortunes, I dare say – or so they tell us. Best respects, my lord, sir.'
By this time Siristrou had perceived that his visitor was evidently some kind of servant – from his manner, a privileged one; but one also who would need keeping in check if he were not to become garrulous to the point of presumption. Without a smile, therefore, and in a business-like manner, he said, 'You have a message for me?'
'Why, that's so, my lord,' replied the man. 'My name's Ankray -I look after the governor and his lady. Governor got back from Lak an hour or two after noon and heard you were here; so he says to me, "Ankray," he says, "if you're going down to the water-front you can just bring me back a sackful of those thick blocks they're using down there – the ones that came in from Tonilda the other day – and on your way home you can step in, like, to that there foreign prince gentleman and tell him I'll be happy to see him whenever it suits him to come." So if it's quite convenient to you, my lord, you might just be stepping along with me now, as you don't know the way, and I'll take you up there.'
'It sounds as though it's convenient to you, at all events,' said Siristrou, smiling in spite of himself. 'My lord?'
'Never mind,' answered Siristrou, who had now, with kindly shrewdness, grasped that his man was something of a simpleton. 'I will be ready to come with you directly.'
It was not the kind of summons to the governor that he had been expecting: but no matter, he thought; this was a small town; there was nothing of importance to be heard or done here; the real diplomacy would come later, in the cities to the westward. Nevertheless, one must be courteous to this governor, who might even be the man responsible for designing and constructing the ferry. As he thought of the probable number of such interviews ahead of him – to say nothing of all the uncomfortable travelling – he sighed. King Luin, in his way, had paid philosophers a compliment in sending one to find out about trade. Yet for all the King's notions, it was not trade, but ideas, that truly advanced civilization: and of those, in this country, there were likely to be about as many as stars in a pond. He sighed again, folded and pocketed his unfinished letter to the king, and called to Thyval to bring him his good cloak and make ready to attend him to the governor's house.
The giant led the way, conversing easily in his atrocious Beklan without apparently worrying in the least whether Siristrou understood him or not, and carrying his bulging sack as lightly as if it had been a fisherman's keep-net,
'Ah, now, this town's changed a great deal, my lord, you see. Now, the Baron, he always used to say, "Ankray," he used to say, "that ferry, once we get it put across the river, that ferry'll bring in a deal of foreigners, coming over for what they can find -" begging your pardon, my lord. "They'll bring all manner of things with them and one will be our prosperity, you mark my words." Of course, the Baron, very likely he'd be surprised out of his life to see all the children here now; though myself, I like them, and there's no denying they can often do very well with anything, once they understand what's to be done. I'd never have thought it possible, but it's these new-fangled ideas, you see, of the governor's. Now only the other day, down at the water-front -'
At this moment they became aware of a band of eight or nine quite young children, who were running after them and calling out to attract their attention. Two were carrying thick, heavy wreaths of flowers. Siristrou stopped, puzzled, and the children came up, panting.
'U-Ankray,' said one, a dark-haired girl of about twelve, putting her hand into the giant's, 'is this the foreign stranger – the prince who's come over the river?'
'Why, yes, that's so,' answered Ankray, 'and what of it? He's on his way to see the governor, so just don't you be hindering of him, now, my dear.'
The little girl turned to Siristrou, raised her palm to her forehead and addressed him in Beklan with a kind of confident joy, which both arrested and startled him.
'My lord,' she said, 'when we heard you were here we made wreaths, to welcome you and your servants to Zeray. We brought them to your house, but Lirrit told us you had just set out to see the governor. "But you run," she said, "and you'll catch him," so we came after you to give you the wreaths, and to say, "Welcome, my lord, to Zeray."'
'What are they saying, sir?' asked Thyval, who had been staring at the children in some bewilderment. 'Are they trying to sell us these flowers?'
'No, they're a gift, or so it seems,' answered Siristrou. Fond of children as he was, the situation was outside his experience and he found himself at something of a loss. He turned back to the dark-haired girl.
"Thank you,' he said. 'You're all very kind.' It occurred to him that he had probably better try to discover a little more. Some further acknowledgement of this rather charming courtesy might well be expected of him later by whoever was behind it. 'Tell me, who told you to bring the wreaths? Was it the governor?'
'Oh, no, my lord, we picked the flowers ourselves. No one sent us. You see, we were gardening not far from the water-front and then we heard -' and she ran off into a chattering, happy explanation which he could not follow, while two of her companions stood on tip-toe to hang the wreaths round his neck and Thyval's. Most of the flowers were of one kind, small and lavender-coloured, -with a light, sharp scent 'What do you call these?' he asked, smiling and touching them.
'Planella,' she answered, and kissed his hand. 'We call them planella. And these are trepsis, the red ones.'