Not long after Hirgul’s departure with Brandubur, Queen Dayamuna and Prince Emilak were together in the parlour of the Queen’s House. The Steward of the house came to them, saying:
‘My lady and lord, there is at the door of this parlour a person of the Kabdath, unknown to me. Nor do I understand how he entered the house unseen, and yet he claims to know this place, and indeed to have known it for many generations of men. He says that he has a matter of importance to disclose to you.’
‘We will speak with him. Pray bid him enter, Master Lethréga.’
But before the Steward had time to bring the visitor in, the Kabáda had bustled into the parlour, and bowing so low that his beard touched the floor, he said:
‘My lady and lord, my name is Teprenkarpon, son of Pedrekkarpon, he who directed the building of this house in the time of the honourable Queen Vidnî. When the others of my people, having completed the raising of many noble buildings in Tídris, returned to Théma Kabatigna, I was appointed to remain here as Guardian of the House.’
‘We are honoured to make your acquaintance, Master Teprenkarpon; but our understanding falls woefully short in this matter. How can you have lived here unknown since the time of our foremother Queen Vidnî? That is nigh on five hundred years! Please pardon our ignorance and discourtesy.’
‘My lady, my pardon is granted, but not needed. We are Doitherúna: our lives are coeval with the world itself. Moreover we are Guardians: we make it our business to watch but be not seen; that is our secret. No light matter would ever have caused me to break my concealment and disclose myself to you. But the matter is weighty and urgent!’
‘Please say on, O Teprenkarpon; we thank you for your gracious indulgence.’
‘An heirloom of very great potency has hung, since the time of Queen Vidnî, in the north tower of this House, by some called, with reason, Fûbraváni. This thing is the great Drum Brandubur of Slungandi, Drumster of the Deep. It has been my special charge to watch over the highest storey of this house, whence the four towers may be entered. And only two nights past, someone came to that tower and took away Brandubur. He who did so can only have been instructed by one who knows both the powers of Brandubur and the runes with which to waken them.’
‘But who can have done such a thing? Surely all here are friends! And our servants keep watch over the house.’
‘They do, to the best of a Hyûvanwa’s ability; but we Kabadri can do more. Alas, we have our suspicions. Have you seen your nephew lately?’
‘Our nephew the lord Hergal? It is his custom to be often away from Tídris. He is a solitary youth.’
‘There dwells in your stables, my lord and lady, a venerable mare, the very mount on which your late sister and her child, Hergal, returned from the Northlands.’
‘That we know. For Rauwenna’s sake, and in her memory, we have instructed that she be cared for until death.’
‘One of my brethren, whose guardianship embraces the outer parts of this place, has noted that this mare, old as she now is, has twice been ridden forth — taking the same road both times — and has now returned riderless, and unsaddled.’
‘Surely the stablemen would have observed this?
‘Gragadam is no ordinary horse. She is of a kind bred and runed over by the angûthégri of the Northlands. They can do much that Hyûvandri fail to see.’
‘You believe that Hergal is both her rider and — the thief of this drum?’
‘We make no accusations, madam. We are but Guardians.’
‘Have you suspicions about where Hergal — or whoever it is — travelled to on the mare?’ Emilak asked.
‘Before your sister’s unhappy return from the Northlands, my lady, that mare belonged to an ûthéga, whose name perchance you know — Sûwikka, sometimes surnamed Sikamôl.’
‘Sûwikka! Does she still live? I have not heard her name since — the unhappy times to which you refer, Master Teprenkarpon.’
‘Aye, she lives, though my brethren report that she is feeble and goes not abroad. But mischief can creep from a witch’s pillow.’
‘But if — supposing that these pieces of the puzzle belong together — what mischief might Sûwikka wish to bring about, do you suppose?’
‘My lady and lord, we do not know. But we know that Brandubur has great power to draw upon the Deep, if the player knows the fingerplay and the runes that go with it. These Sûwikka may know. Or the drum has been obtained on behalf of another — outside the Greenmarch, perhaps. In any case, I counsel you that you seek the drum immediately.’
Teprenkarpon at once took his leave and departed. No one saw where he went.
Queen Dayamuna called together her trusted advisers and they took counsel speedily. It was decided to send out search parties throughout the realm. In case it was true that Hergal was the thief, and that he had gone to Sûwikka, they counselled that his three cousins, Díamun, Beinun, and Dóna, should lead one of the parties to her house, hoping that if they found him with Brandubur, they might persuade him, as kinsfolk, to bring it back, or render it up.
Having ascertained the whereabouts of Tarûig, the search party rode off, and after a day’s travel, came to the house of the ûthéga. As they dismounted, they saw two unexpected things. In the yard before the house was a large heap of freshly dug soil, somewhat longer than its width. And pacing around it, an old woman, seemingly distraught with grief, her long grey hair flying free, crying out:
‘Alas, my mistress is dead and buried! Now what shall I do? How shall I live?’
Beinun asked:
‘Madam, who was your mistress?’
‘Sûwikka the kindly healer was my mistress! She is dead and buried before me! What shall I do?’
And Dóna said:
‘We are sorry for your loss! But we have an urgent errand from the Queen. We are seeking a young man with a great drum. Has he visited your mistress?’
‘Aiee, she is dead! And what would she have to do with young men or drums? Alas! What shall I do?’
And so Nyaula’s lament went on, and they could get no more sense from her. Leaving some of their party hidden nearby to keep watch on Tarûig, the three began to search the fields and woods in the neighbourhood. Even as they rode away, they could hear the servant woman continuing her chant of grief.
They came to the track leading up to Dreykahnôl. At the top, they saw before them the cliff face with its array of caves. That seemed a promising place to search. They left their horses and climbed to each cave in turn and looked inside. One only seemed to have been entered recently — there were marks as if stones and other objects had been moved around, and traces of a fire. After a brief consultation, they remounted and rode back to their companions. Nyaula was continuing her distracted lamentations. Nothing else had occurred, so, having placed a bag of gold in front of the weeping servant, they all rode away, to continue the search elsewhere.
When the sound of their hoofs had died away, Nyaula ceased her lamentation abruptly. She went to the back of the house and climbed up a ladder that stood against the wall there, leaning her body against the slope of the roof with just her head above the ridge. She counted the riders and watched them until they were out of sight. Then descending again, and passing into the yard, she took a spade and began to shovel away the pile of earth. Beneath it was a stout wooden board, which she heaved up, and then reaching down she helped her mistress up out of the counterfeit grave.
‘Thank you, Nyaula. I hope that you will make at least as much noise when I am truly dead and buried!’
Nyaula merely scowled, as usual, and, dusting Sûwikka’s gown, supported her into the house and back to bed.
‘You say they went up to Dreykahnôl and searched? The lad has some wits, after all, if he saw them coming and got himself and the drum out of their way. You had best go up and fetch him down here, now that it is safe. He needs more instruction. If you can only find him!’
Scowling even more, Nyaula set off up the path to summon Hirgul back. But it was too late.
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