Pattern

Poldarn dipped his head in acknowledgement. 'But Leith was something to do with it.'

'Very much so,' Egil said. 'So, he came over here because he knew you were back-'

'And he'd heard I'd lost my memory, but he wanted to make sure. Which he did. Then he went home. Simple as that.'

'Fine. So you must've set his mind at rest.'

'His mind, yes. Look, I've been thinking. This deadly secret, it must have been something I did. I'm starting to think I ought to know about it. In fact, I'm pretty sure I should. I've been second-guessing and third-guessing, I lie awake at nights trying to figure out what it could be, and it seems to me that it can't have been all that bad, or they'd never have brought me home. Halder knew, didn't he?'

'Oh, Halder knew.' Egil looked very thoughtful. 'You know, if anybody's to blame really, it's him. Other people-well, they made mistakes, I think it's fair enough to call it that-but Halder actually did a very bad thing, a wicked thing, and I'm positive he knew he was going to die soon afterwards and the truth would die with him. At least, that's what he thought, because he didn't know Leith and I were in on the secret too. But that doesn't make it any better.'

'Doesn't it?'

'Of course not. If you could commit a crime, something really cruel and unspeakable, and you knew for a fact you'd never be found out, nobody'd even know the crime had been committed, it'd still be a crime. Wouldn't it?'

Poldarn thought for a moment. 'To be honest,' he said, 'I can't think of a really terrible crime that nobody would notice. I mean, there's got to be a victim or it isn't a crime: you can't blind someone or burn down his house without him realising what's been done to him. Well, I suppose you could kill a lonely stranger, someone with no family or friends who's just arrived in the district, so nobody apart from yourself knows he's there. That's not what happened, is it?'

Egil shook his head. 'Nothing like that,' he said. 'In fact, that wouldn't be such a bad crime, if you ask me, because someone like that-well, who cares? Apart from the stranger, of course; but if he's got no family, nobody depending on him, then it's not like it's a great loss, is it? There's nobody left to be affected by it.'

Poldarn's eyes opened wide. 'That's a pretty cold-blooded way of looking at things, isn't it?' he said.

'Maybe.' Egil sounded like he wasn't bothered. 'Truth is, it's so unlikely and far-fetched, it's hard to imagine what it'd be like. Everybody's got family and friends somewhere, even that new friend of yours, the bear-hunter who got you out of the mud over at our place. Like, if I killed him tomorrow, you'd notice he wasn't around any more, and if you found out I'd killed him, you'd be after me for revenge. And he's as close as you'll ever get to what you had in mind.'

'True,' Poldarn said. 'But supposing I'd killed him that first day I met him, out on the moors.'

Egil grinned. 'Before or after he saved you from the bear? No, think about it. If it was before, the bear would've got you. If it was afterwards, you'd have been too grateful to kill him. Like I said, that scenario of yours is just too improbable to be worth getting in a state over.'

'All right.' Poldarn straightened his right leg with a shudder of pain. 'And you're saying what I did was worse than that.'

Egil shook his head. 'Certainly not. Like I said just now, it was more of a mistake than a crime, anyway.'

'Fine. So what Halder did was worse than that.'

'No, not really. Oh, it was a despicable thing to do, but nothing like killing someone. It wasn't-well, active, if you see what I mean. There's a difference, isn't there? Between doing something bad and letting something bad happen?'

Poldarn decided to draw a bow at a venture. 'Like you did, you mean.'

'Like I did, yes. Except I just stood back and didn't interfere; what Halder did was worse than that. Except he thought nobody would ever know, so it'd all be all right. And in the end, it's been a blessing. Well, for a lot of people it has. Me, for one.'

'Really' Poldarn scowled. 'You know, ever since I got here it's been like this. Everybody knows everything, except me. I'm getting bloody sick of it.'

But Egil shook his head. 'Don't be so damned selfish,' he said. 'It's just like your case, exactly.'

'How do you mean?'

'Think about it. Suppose there was a really bad man, a truly evil man who did terrible things; and one day he can't remember who he is or what he's done, and for ages he just wanders through his life, doing nobody any harm; and he comes to a place where there's no scope for his particular line of wrongdoing, and he just settles down and lives a fairly normal life, even does a bit of good when it's needed. And suppose where he's come to, nobody knows what he did, or nobody cares, or they wouldn't think what he did was wrong even if they knew about it. So: is he still a bad man? Was he ever a bad man, if nobody knows about it, nobody at all? Suppose the past is just something you can break or burn-'

'Like a book,' Poldarn interrupted.

'If you say so,' Egil replied. 'But suppose you can get rid of the past so it no longer exists. After all, the past is just memories. Suppose you can wipe them all out, wash them away like a stain in a shirt, so even you don't know any more. There's no past, just the present and the future. And the bad man's not bad any more, is he?'

Poldarn thought for a long time. 'I guess that depends,' he said. 'If he's really a bad man, won't he find a way to do evil again? Because it's his nature.'

Egil shook his head. 'But not necessarily,' he said. 'Suppose you were in a country where there's no such thing as property: if you want something you just take it and nobody gives a damn. You couldn't be a thief in that country, even if you tried. Or suppose there's a country where crows are sacred to the gods, and the worst crime is to kill one. There's a man who loves to kill crows; but he lives here, where crows are pests and we've got to kill them, or else they'll peck up the crops. He won't be doing evil, he'll be a useful member of society.'

'Maybe.' Poldarn looked away, up at the roof. 'But he kills crows because he likes killing, not because they damage the crops. That's evil.'

'That's his business,' Egil replied gently. 'And the more he tries to do evil, the more good he does. There's no harm done.'

'But he knows,' Poldarn insisted.

'So what?' Egil said. 'He knows he's trying to do evil, but no evil actually happens. What's inside his head doesn't matter, any more than a wiped-out past matters.' He looked around, and saw the axe head Poldarn had found in the muddy water of the ditch; it was lying on the table, beside the bed. 'All right, look,' he went on. 'You found this yesterday, right?'

'How did you know that?'

'You told someone, so I know. It's an axe, right? And you found it in the mud and brought it home. Put an edge on it, it'll do a useful job of work. Now let's say it got there because someone used it for a murder and dumped it there; but that was all a hundred years ago, nobody remembers the murdered man or anything like that. It's still a useful tool. Or should it go in a crucible and get melted down? And if you did that, would it be right to use the metal to make something else, or is it accursed for all time? Shouldn't we take it up to the top of the volcano and throw it in there, just to be sure?'

'Now you're being ridiculous,' Poldarn said. 'Sounds to me like you've got your own reasons for not wanting me to know what happened.'

'Of course I do,' Egil said angrily. 'You come back here, after all those years. You know what I thought when I heard what Halder had done? I was going to take my axe and smash your head in, because I'd rather be put to death for murder than let it happen. Then it turns out you've lost your memory, and suddenly it's all right again, I don't have to die after all. Can you imagine how wonderful that felt, being reprieved from having to kill someone, from having everybody think I was some kind of vicious wild animal, crazy in the head, couldn't be allowed to live? I'd have done it, you can be absolutely sure about that.'