To Lie with Lions - Dorothy Dunnett [198]
She had seen it three times. She had never seen it like this. To begin with, the subterranean explosions were much stronger this time: eight of them, and growing in violence, so that the ground shuddered under their feet as if it were about to rise up, or buckle, or split. With the eighth came the first gush of scalding water, a mighty column hurled into the air with a thunderous hiss, and dissolving into clouds of white steam. It was followed in quick succession by others. Lumps of turf spurted up. Boulders flew, rocketing into the sky and bursting high over the billowing clouds. The columns rose higher and higher with a shocking roar. The main eruption, driving upwards in a single terrible explosion, ripped off the side of its base and shot a hundred feet in the air where it whistled, a boiling, unbroken pillar of water.
This time the spout had brought something with it that was not a stone or a turf, and by playing under the thing, sustained it high in the glittering air, pagan with rainbows. Staring upwards, Benecke broke his dumbounded silence and swore. Kathi clutched at her brother. M de Fleury tilted his head back and gazed.
Jerking to and fro in the sky, rising and falling, danced the torso of a white-shirted man, arms outstretched. Its legs and its head were horribly missing.
The jet dropped. The thing tumbled into the basin and lay in the steam, rocked by the receding water. There was a throaty gurgle and silence, but for the mutter and hiss of the great evil field.
‘Plates?’ said M de Fleury. ‘Napkins? Knives? Or are we supposed to tear it apart with our fingers?”
Paúel Benecke pulled off his felt hat and let the wind play about his dank hair. ‘What is it?’ he asked. His voice shook.
Upon the good-looking face of Sersanders there appeared an exuberant grin. ‘It’s my spare shirt,’ he said. ‘A ptarmigan in either sleeve, and a breast of lamb packed in the body. Kathi’s idea. We buried a pan loaf as well, but I don’t think it’s risen. Not so high, anyway. Nicholas? Come on. We did all the work. You go and retrieve it.’
*
They held their feast in the tent; and although the birds fell apart in a welter of feathers, the mutton was done to a turn and went down well with some ale of the Bishop’s. ‘We shouldn’t have let Sigfús have any,’ said Kathi, ‘if we’d known he’d been drinking already.’
‘He has that reputation,’ Nicholas said. Since the geysir blew, Paúel Benecke had never removed his eyes from Kathi, even when the geysir blew again.
‘Oh,’ said Kathi.
‘I wish someone had told us,’ said Sersanders. ‘He was drunk as an auk. He would have scalded to death in the hot springs.’
‘So might you,’ the Danziger said. Kathi looked at him.
‘Well, we were sensible,’ Sersanders said. ‘We sent the man back with the bear. He said he knew of a farm. I’m afraid it’s too late for a pelt from the she-bear; the foxes will have stripped her by now. I expect you saw her. Didn’t you have a guide?’
‘Glímu-Sveinn. We sent him back with his dog to find Sigfús. You said Sigfús went back with the bear?’
‘He knew of a farm with a sledge and some ropes. If he ever got there.’
‘He means the bear-cub,’ said Kathi modestly. ‘We caught it.’
Paúel Benecke removed his black stare to Nicholas. ‘Your young brother,’ he said. ‘So what now?’
‘Glímu-Sveinn will find the farm, the bear and Sigfús, and they will all duly arrive back at Skalholt, demanding a price for their services, which they will receive.’
‘Or if we perish, they sell off the bear.’
Kathi said, ‘They didn’t make us come here.’
‘No, you were coming here anyway,’ said Sersanders sourly.
‘So was M. de Fleury,’ said Kathi. ‘And aren’t you glad?’
‘I’m glad,’ said Paúel Benecke cheerfully. His beard was covered with grease. ‘I’ll stay as long as you like, but I have to say this. I think Herra Oddur is going to be a very surprised man when he sees us.’
‘When he sees Kathi and me,’ Sersanders said slowly. He generally reached the right conclusions eventually. ‘But you’re from the Hanse. Or was he suspicious of Nicholas?’
‘I think,’ Nicholas