The Corn King and the Spring Queen Read Online Free PDF Page B

men stopped and turned round and looked at her. The light of the forge flickered on her cheeks and long plaits and the front of her throat, coming up, pale and soft out of the rough linen of her dress. Her mouth was a little open; there was a pattern round her feet. Berris stayed by the bench, but Tarrik dropped his bow, and came forward two steps. Aloud, he said, ‘Erif Der, I love you, I want to marry you.’ He reached out towards her, but she was in a circle of her own and would not move from it; only he could hear her breathing gustily, as if she had been running; his own hammering heart sounded plainer still.
    She did not answer him, but Berris did, with a question: ‘Do you? Will you marry her?’
    â€˜No—yes,’ said Tarrik, his hands up to his head, pressing the crown down on to his hair, half covering his ears.
    Erif Der threw up her hands with a little cry, loosing him. ‘I did it!’ she said, ‘I did it, Chief! Well? Am I clever?’ She stepped out of her circle.
    â€˜Why did you tell me?’ said Tarrik softly. ‘When will you let me go?’
    â€˜But I have!’ she cried. ‘Now say—say what you really want!’
    â€˜I want the same thing,’ said Tarrik and pulled her over to him. She ducked, butting at him, clumsily, childishly, with head and fists, and got kissed on her neck and face and open mouth, maddeningly, and found nothing to shove against, nothing that would stay still and be fought; so that suddenly she went quiet and limp in his arms, and, as suddenly, he let her go. She had trodden on Tarrik’s bow; the string snapped; he picked it up. ‘Witch,’ he said, ‘I shall go to Harn Der, and then I shall marry you.’
    â€˜I give my leave,’ said Berris hastily, ‘and so will father.’ But no one listened to him.
    â€˜Very well,’ said Erif Der. ‘Now listen, Tarrik. I will magic you as much as I please and you will not be able to stop me!’
    â€˜Go on, then,’ said Tarrik, ‘but there are some other things I shall do that you will not be able to stop.’ She smoothed her plaits and stroked her hot face with her own familiar palms. ‘You’ll see,’ she said, and went out. But it was all very well when Berris pulled her hair; next time it would be Tarrik, who was much stronger. She knew her magic depended on herself and could be as much broken as she was; never mind, the sun had come out again, the sea smell swept up the streets of Marob, fresh and strong. She went back to the flax market, half running; father would be pleased with her, she must tell him quick. And how soon could Yersha possibly be got out of the Chiefs house?
    Tarrik and Berris Der were still talking. When she had gone, they had dropped back at once to where they had left off, Berris wondering, startled at the way it had come, thinking of his father and not liking to talk about it to Tarrik, because it would have been bound to be all lies. But Tarrik felt wonderfully light, leaping from one thing to another in his airy mind. He had always been rather like this; he knew how it angered the Council and Harn Der, but now it was all marvellously accentuated. He knew that he was free, that nothing mattered—not Marob, not the corn, not the making of beauty, nor his own life. He went on talking seriously, as he had done before, but every now and then laughter rose in him like a secret wind, and shook his mouth while he was speaking about art to Berris Der. By and bye it became too much and he got up, saying he would go to Harn Der later that day, but must go nowto the Council. ‘Yes,’ said Berris, startled, ‘because of the road? I should have thought of it—oh, go quick!’ He pushed the bow into his hand and hurried him out. Tarrik went out of the forge and down the street with a kind of swaying, dancing walk, as if he were trying not to bound into the air at every step.
    As soon as