But here I have put my foot down. I have a right to rest. I want a long, languorous honeymoon, and then a year or so of basking in the sun and finishing my book.
Mele finds this difficult to understand. She keeps on trying to tell me that I must continue working. And she speaks of some ceremony involving the "Ultimate" (if my translation is correct).
But I have done enough work. I refused to do more, for a year or two, at least.
This "Ultimate" ceremony is to take place directly after our wedding. I suppose it will be some high honour or other that these simple people wish to bestow on me. I have signified my willingness to accept it.
It should be interesting.
* * *
For the wedding the entire village, led by the old priest, marched to the Pinnacle, where all Igathian marriages were performed. The men wore ceremonial feathers, and the women were decked in shell jewellery and iridescent stones. Four husky villagers in the middle of the procession bore a strange-looking apparatus. Hadwell caught only a glimpse of it, but he knew it had been taken, with solemn ceremony, from a plain black-thatched hut which seemed to be a shrine of some sort.
In single file they proceeded over the shaky bridge of vines. Kataga, bringing up the rear, grinned to himself as he secretively slashed again at the worn spot.
The Pinnacle was a narrow spur of black rock thrust out over the sea. Hadwell and Mele stood on the end of it, faced by the priest. The people fell silent as Lag raised his arms.
"Oh great Thangookari!" the priest cried. "Cherish this man Hadwell, your emissary, who has come to us from out of the sky in a shining vehicle, and who has done service for the Igathi such as no man has ever done. And cherish your daughter, Mele. Teach her to love the memory of her husband — and to remain strong in her tribal beliefs"
The priest stared hard at Mele as he said that. And Mele, her head held high, gave him look for look.
"I now pronounce you," said the priest, "man and wife!"
Hadwell clasped his wife in his arms and kissed her. The people cheered. Kataga grinned his sly grin.
"And now," said the priest in his warmest voice, "I have good news for you, Hadwell. Great news!"
"Oh?" Hadwell said, reluctantly releasing his bride.
"We have judged you," said Lag, "and we have found you worthy — of the Ultimate!"
"Why, thanks," Hadwell said.
The priest motioned. Four men came up lugging the strange apparatus which Hadwell had glimpsed earlier. Now he saw that it was a platform the size of a large bed, made of some ancient-looking black wood. Lashed to the frame were various barbs, hooks, sharpened shells and needle-shaped thorns. There were cups, which contained no liquid as yet. And there were other things, strange in shape, whose purpose Hadwell could not guess.
"Not for six hundred years," said Lag, "has the Instrument been removed from the Shrine of the Instrument. Not since the days of V'ktat, the hero-god who single-handed saved the Igathian people from destruction. But it has been removed for you, Hadwell!"
"Really, I'm not worthy," Hadwell said.
A murmur rose from the crowd at such modesty.
"Believe me," Lag said earnestly, "you are worthy. Do you accept the Ultimate, Hadwell?"
Hadwell looked at Mele. He could not read the expression on her beautiful face. He looked at the priest. Lag's face was impassive. The crowd was deathly still. Hadwell looked at the Instrument. He didn't like its appearance. A doubt began to creep into his mind.
Had he misjudged these people? That Instrument must have been used for torture at some ancient time. Those barbs and hooks ... But what were the other things for? Thinking hard, Hadwell conceived some of their possible usages and shuddered. The crowd was closely packed in front of him. Behind him was the narrow point of rock and a sheer thousand-foot drop below it. Hadwell looked again at Mele.
The love and devotion in her face was unmistakable.
Glancing at the villagers, he saw their concern for him. What was he worried about? They would never do anything to harm him, not after all he had done for the village.
The Instrument undoubtedly had some symbolic use.
"I accept the Ultimate," Hadwell said to the priest.
The villagers shouted, a deep-throated roar that echoed from the mountains. They formed closely around him, smiling, shaking his hands.
"The ceremony will take place at once," said the priest. "In the village, in front of the statue of Thangookari."
Immediately they started back, the priest leading. Hadwell and his bride were in the centre now. Mele still had not spoken since the ceremony.
Silently they crossed the swaying bridge of vines. Once across, the villagers pressed more closely around Hadwell than before, giving him a slightly claustrophobic feeling. If he had not been convinced of their essential goodness, he told himself, he might have felt apprehensive.
Ahead lay the village and the altar of Thangookari. The priest hurried towards it.
Suddenly there was a shriek. Everyone turned and rushed back to the bridge.
At the brink of the river, Hadwell saw what had happened. Kataga, Mele's father, had brought up the rear of the procession. As he had reached the midpoint, the central supporting vine had inexplicably snapped. Kataga had managed to clutch a secondary vine, but only for a moment. As the villagers watched, his hold weakened, released, and he dropped into the river.
Hadwell watched, frozen with shock. With dreamlike clarity he saw it alclass="underline" Kataga falling, a smile of magnificent courage on his face, the raging white water, the jagged rocks below.
It was a certain, terrible death.
"Can he swim?" Hadwell asked Mele.
"No," the girl said. "He refused to learn ... Oh, Father! How could you!"
The raging white water frightened Hadwell more than anything he had ever seen, more than the emptiness of space. But the father of his wife was in danger. A man had to act.
He plunged headlong into the icy water.
Kataga was almost unconscious when Hadwell reached him, which was fortunate, for the Igathian did not struggle when Hadwell seized him by the hair and started to swim vigorously for the nearest shore. But he couldn't make it. Currents swept the men along, pulling them under and throwing them to the surface again. By a strenuous effort, Hadwell was able to avoid the first rocks. But more loomed ahead.
The villagers ran along the bank, shouting at him.
With his strength ebbing rapidly, Hadwell fought again for the shore. A submerged rock scraped his side and his grip on Kataga's hair began to weaken. The Igathian was starting to recover and struggle.
"Don't give up, old man," Hadwell gasped. The bank sped past. Hadwell came within ten feet of it, then the current began to carry him out again.
With his last surge of strength, he managed to grab an overhead branch and to hold on while the current wrenched and tore at his body. Moments later, guided by the priest, the villagers pulled the two men in to the safety of the shore.
They were carried to the village. When Hadwell was able to breathe normally again, he turned and grinned feebly at Kataga.
"Close call, old man," he said.
"Meddler!" Kataga said. He spat at Hadwell and stalked off.
Hadwell stared after him scratching his head. "Must have affected his brain," he said. "Well, shall we get on with the Ultimate?"
The villagers drew close to him, their faces menacing.
"Hah! The Ultimate he wants!"
"A man like that."
"After dragging poor Kataga out of the river, he has the nerve ..."
"His own father-in-law and he saves his life!"