The Story of General Dann and Mara's Daughter, Griot and the Snow Dog. Doris Lessing

are ruffians there now, they say. I don’t know what the old Mahondis would say.’

      ‘I am a Mahondi,’ said Dann, remembering what it had once meant to say that.

      ‘Then you’ll know about the young prince. Everyone is waiting for him to put things right.’

      Dann was going to say, Hasn’t the time gone past for princes? – but decided not to. They were so old: in the cold morning light they were like old ghosts.

      A banging at the door. Ruff barked; again the sound of running feet.

      ‘It seems to me we’ve done well enough by you, keeping them all away,’ said Dann.

      ‘He’s right,’ said the old man. ‘Let him stay. He and that animal can keep watch and we can get some sleep.’

      ‘Thanks,’ said Dann, ‘but we’ll be off. And thanks for your hospitality.’ He had meant this last to be sarcastic, but those two old things were making him feel as if he were hitting babies.

      ‘Perhaps you could ask your Alb friends to visit us?’ said the old woman.

      ‘There’s an Alb settlement not too far from here,’ he said, and she said, ‘They don’t want to know us, because of the half of us not Alb.’

      These two old toddlers could not get much further than the clifftop track, if as far as that.

      ‘It would be nice to see something of our kind’ – and even the nets of wrinkles on her face and the old sunk eyes seemed to be pleading.

      Dann thought of fastidious Leta in this hut but said nevertheless, ‘I’ll tell them to visit you.’

      The old woman began to cry, and then the old man, in sympathy.

      ‘Don’t leave us,’ she said, and then he said it too.

      ‘Why don’t you invite the next snow dog in?’ said Dann. ‘They make good companions.’

      He and Ruff left, making their way on little-used paths back to the track westwards, and there they went on until one crossroad led to the Centre and the other to the Farm. Mara, there’s Mara, he was thinking, longing to go to her, but he took a few steps and came back, hesitated. The snow dog went forward and Dann followed, but stopped. The snow dog stopped, his eyes on Dann’s face. It was as if the way west were barred with a NO, like a dark cloud. He wanted so much to go to the Farm, but could not. Ruff came and sat by his knees, looking up, then licking his hands, and by this Dann knew the dog was sensing more than his indecision. When Dann was sad, Ruff knew it. ‘Why can’t I go, Ruff?’ he enquired aloud, standing there by the grey watery wastes, the white marsh birds standing in their pools, or calling and looking for fish and frogs as they floated low, the wind in their feathers. ‘Why can’t I?’ And he set himself northwards, to the Centre.

      Long before he reached it he saw it rise up there, its top gone into low cloud. How large it was, how imposing – if one didn’t know about the ruins and halfruins, the waters soaking its northern and western edges, the smell of damp and rot. No wonder it had dominated the whole area – no, the whole of Ifrik – for so long. With the sun coming on to it from the western sky it gleamed, it glowed, the golden cloud crowning it, the outer walls shining. Dann went towards it, thinking now of Griot, who had every reason for reproach, noting changes, one of them being the sentry who challenged him at the gate. He wore something like a uniform: brown baggy top, baggy trousers, a red blanket over one shoulder. A surge of rage overwhelmed him; he pushed aside the youth, whose eyes were on the snow dog. Ruff disdained even to growl.

      

      In the great hall, where he and Mara had waited to be recognised, he saw Griot sitting at a table, which had on it the frames with beads used for counting, and piles of reed tablets. Dann approached quietly. Griot raised his head and at once a smile appeared, like an embrace. Griot stood and his arms did rise, but fell again as he put on an expression more suitable for a soldier, though he need not have bothered: he was an embodied cry of joy.

      ‘Dann … Sir … General …’

      ‘Yes, I’m sorry,’ said Dann, who was, at that moment.

      ‘You’ve been such a long time.’

      ‘Yes, I know. I was detained by a witch on an island in the Bottom Sea.’ He was trying to jest, but amended, ‘No, I was joking, it is pleasant down there.’

      Now Dann saw something in Griot’s face that made him stand, quietly, on guard, waiting: was Griot going to speak? No. Dann asked, ‘Tell me how things are going.’

      Griot came out from behind his table and, standing at ease, as he had been taught when a new soldier under Dann’s command, ‘We have six hundred trained men now, sir.’

      ‘Six hundred.’

      ‘We could have as many as we like, so many come to the Centre from the east.’

      Here Ruff went forward to inspect this new friend, his heavy tail wagging.

      ‘We have quite a few of these snow dogs trained as guards,’ said Griot, stroking the animal’s head.

      ‘People seem to be afraid of them.’

      ‘Enemies have good reason to be afraid of them.’

      ‘So, what are those reed huts I saw coming in – they’re new.’

      ‘Barracks. And we must build more.’

      ‘And what are we going to do with this army?’

      ‘Yes, that’s it, but you’ll have heard about Tundra. It’s falling apart. There are two factions. There will be more, we think.’

      Dann noted the we.

      ‘The administration is hardly working. One faction has sent us messages, to join them. It’s the prestige of the Centre, you see, sir.’ Griot hesitated, then went bravely on. ‘It’s your prestige, everyone knows you’re here, in command.’

      ‘And the other faction, presumably the weaker?’

      ‘They’re just – useless. It will be a walkover.’

      ‘I see. And do you know how many refugees are pouring into Tundra from the east?’

      ‘Yes, we know. Many turn up here. The majority. I have a friend in Tundra, he keeps me informed.’

      ‘So, Griot, you have a spy system?’

      ‘Yes – yes, sir, I do. And it is very efficient.’

      ‘Well done, Griot. I see our army in Agre trained you well.’

      ‘It was Shabis.’ And at the mention of Shabis Griot’s eyes were full of – what? Dann was on the point of asking, but again evaded with, ‘And how are you feeding all these people?’

      ‘We are growing grains and vegetables on the foothills of the mountain, where it’s dry. And we have a lot of animals now – there are so many empty buildings on the outskirts.’

      ‘Why did you build the huts, then?’

      ‘First, if people are in the Centre they pilfer, and then, keeping the men in barracks makes for uniformity. The empty buildings come in every size and shape, but the huts take two men each or two women and no one can complain about favouritism.’

      There was a pause here. Griot was standing on one side of the table, Dann on the other, the snow dog sitting where he could observe them: his eyes went from face to face and his tail wasn’t wagging now.

      ‘Are you hungry?’ Griot asked, postponing the moment, whatever it was.

      ‘No, but I am sure Ruff is.’

      Griot went to the door and Ruff went with him. Griot shouted orders and returned.

      ‘You’re honoured, Griot, he doesn’t make friends with everyone.’

      ‘I