Echoes of the Great Song (34 page)

He hoped.

Which caused the sight of the disguised king standing at his door to unnerve him utterly. Sadau stood, open-mouthed and wordless as he recognized his monarch.

“I think you should invite us in,” said Ammon, pushing past the potter. An old man followed him. He was carrying a small sleeping child.

“Wh … what do you want … sire?” asked Sadau. The king moved into the dingy room and sat down on a wicker chair.

“Somewhere to rest for the night. A little food for myself and my friend. Oh … and some milk for the babe.”

Sadau stood stock-still, his mind in a whir. The enemy—whoever they were—would be hunting for the king. They would search all the houses. And probably kill whoever they found hiding him. It was like a nightmare. “How … how did you find me?” he asked.

“I knocked at the door of one of your neighbors.”

“My
neighbors
know you are here?”

“I rather think they did not recognize me. The poor rarely have the opportunity to observe me closely. Now, come along man, play the host. Fetch us some food.”

“You can’t stay here, highness. They will be searching for you.”

“Exactly so. But I really don’t think they will expect to find me in a hovel.” Ammon rose from his chair and approached the potter, laying his slender hands on the man’s shoulders. “You are a very lucky man, Sadau. You tossed my brother’s head into the Luan and you
did not die for it. Now you have an opportunity to earn the king’s gratitude. Once I have escaped and gathered my army, I shall smite these invaders and retake my kingdom. Then you will be well rewarded.”

“I don’t want to be rewarded. I want to be
alive!”

“A noble aim, potter. But let us concentrate on one thing at a time. And the first priority is food. Fetch some.”

Sadau stumbled into his small kitchen, returning with a fresh-baked loaf and a plate of raisins. “I have no milk for the child,” he said.

“Borrow some from your neighbors. But be quick, for there are beasts abroad.”

Sadau was in a daze as he unlocked the door and stepped out into the sunset. All was quiet now and he felt like running away, sprinting to some darkened place where he could lie down, close his eyes, and pray that he would wake and find this was all merely some fevered dream. Suddenly he heard screams in the distance and a terrible howling. The little man ran to the home of his cousin, Oris. The small house was dark, the shutters closed. Sadau tapped on the door. “It is me, Sadau,” he called.

Inside there were no lanterns lit. Oris was not at home and his wife Rula was sitting in the dark, her two small children beside her, her babe in her lap. “Are we all going to die?” she asked, her voice breaking. She was a mousy woman, round-shouldered and perpetually weary. As indeed anyone would be who had to live with Oris. The big riverman was a noisy, boisterous man, who treated his friends like loved ones, and his loved ones like servants. Rula had been worn down by his infidelities and his endless lies.

“No, we are not going to die,” said Sadau. “Where is Oris?”

“He did not come home. He left this morning to
work at the river. What am I going to do, Sadau? What will happen to my babes if he’s dead?”

Her distress touched him, cutting through both his fear and his dislike of her. “Come to my home,” he said. “We will wait for Oris there. I am sure he is not dead.” Probably hiding in the home of some whore, he thought. Carrying one of the children and leading the other by the hand he led them back to his home. Rula seemed less frightened now, but the children were unusually quiet.

As they entered the house Rula stiffened. “You have friends here,” she said. “Perhaps I should wait at home.”

“It is all right,” Sadau assured her. “They are customers of mine.” Locking the door he put down the child he was carrying. She sat upon the floor and began to cry. Ammon approached her, kneeling down beside her.

“Don’t cry, little one,” he said. “It is just a game. Tell me your name.”

“Saris,” said the child. “My daddy owns the river.”

“What a coincidence,” said Ammon. “My daddy owned the river too.” The small room was crowded now. The toddler carried by Anwar began to wail.

“He’s hungry,” said Ammon, glancing up at Rula. “Do you think you could feed him?”

She nodded and, passing her own sleeping babe to Sadau, moved to the toddler, lifting him to her lap and opening her dress to expose a large breast. Instantly the toddler began to suckle greedily.

A silent hour passed. Then there came a knock at the door. Sadau almost fainted with the shock. “Who is it?” he called.

“Oris. Is Rula with you?”

Sadau opened the door and a heavy-set young man
entered. Rula ran to him, hugging him close. “I was so worried,” she said.

“You and me both,” he confided. “It’s terrible out there. Corpses everywhere. It’s quiet now. They say the king is dead, and all the nobles either fled or slain. When the attack started I thought they were Avatars. But they’re not. They’re red-skinned. The palace is a ruin.”

Ammon stepped forward. “You say they killed the king?”

Oris stared at him, suspiciously. “Customers,” said Sadau, lamely.

“Yes. They dragged his body out to the main square and hung it from a rope.”

“How did they know it was the king?” asked Anwar.

“How would I know? He was dressed in a long blue robe. They found him in the palace, I guess.”

“How sad,” said Ammon. “I always liked him.”

“We better be getting home,” said Oris. “The gods alone know what tomorrow will bring.”

As they were leaving, Ammon asked Rula if she would take charge of the abandoned toddler. She said that she would and he gave her a gold coin which she instantly handed to Oris. The big riverman looked closely at Ammon. “Have I seen you somewhere before?” he asked him.

“Quite possibly. I travel the Luan regularly.”

“Right. Well, may the gods protect you. May they protect us all.”

Sadau closed the door behind them. Then he turned to the king. “They think you are dead,” he said happily.

“Not for long. Someone will see the body and know it is not me. But for now we appear to be safe. Tomorrow you will help me find a way to leave the city.”

“Please, lord,” begged Sadau, “I am not a brave man!
I learned that when I watched the Avatar, Viruk, kill all my comrades.”

Ammon smiled. “You underestimate yourself, potter. You mistake natural fear for base cowardice. You are not a coward. Had I been in your place I too would have thrown the head into the Luan. That is one of the reasons why I did not have you killed. Look at me. Look me in the eye.” Sadau did so. “Do I look to you like a foolish man?”

“No, lord.”

“Then trust what I say. You have more courage than you know. And tomorrow we will leave this city and you will be safe. Is that right?”

“Yes, lord,” said Sadau, glumly.

Rael was in a cold and bitter mood. The council meeting had been awkward in the extreme, the Vagars saying little, leaving Mejana to voice their concerns. Well might they be silent, he thought. Traitors all. What especially galled him was that most of the Vagars present were men known to him, men who had prospered under Avatar rule, merchants and artists, many of whom had been entertained by Rael at official functions. Now he knew they had plotted to kill men like Baliel and Ro. Perhaps even himself. He wanted to strike out at them, send soldiers to their homes and drag them from their beds.

Forcing such sweet thoughts from his mind he turned his attention to Talaban, who was sitting quietly on a couch staring into a goblet of wine.

“You are very quiet,” he said. “Did she bewitch you?”

“I rather think she did,” said Talaban with a rueful smile. “I made a fool of myself. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. My tongue seemed twice its size and I spoke like a dolt.”

“Do not be deceived, Talaban. She is the greatest enemy we could imagine.”

“Hard to believe, sir.”

“Trust me. You don’t know what she is—what she will become.”

“I know she is helping us and she is ready to take the battle to the enemy.”

“That is
now
,” said Rael. “Every day she will grow in strength and knowledge. She will change, Talaban.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“She is crystal-joined.”

Talaban reacted as if struck. “No! That cannot be!”

Rael misread the cause of his concern. “It can—and is. Viruk found her in a local village. He bedded her and realized she had a cancer in her lungs. Typically he broke the rules and used his crystal to heal her. No real problem there. Except that she happened to be that one in a score of millions. The crystal changed her, became part of her. The process is continuing. Today she can read minds, heal wounds, and her soul can fly to the farthest corners of the earth. But tomorrow, or next month, or next year, she will be like the Crystal Queen, her powers vast. Do you believe that such a being will willingly die?”

“She will become crystal,” whispered Talaban, “like Chryssa.”

“Not like Chryssa,” snapped Rael. “Like the Crystal Queen, or the third Avatar Prime. How many thousands died in the Crystal Wars? How many gave their blood to keep him alive? According to contemporary accounts more than a hundred thousand died to feed him.”

“How long does she have in human form?” asked Talaban.

“I don’t know. Two years. Five. Who cares? The question is, what can we do to regain the initiative?”

Talaban felt a sickness in the pit of his stomach at the thought of Sofarita dying. His mind reeled at the thought. Pushing the dread back he looked up at Rael. The Questor General was tired, his eyes dark-rimmed. “How long since you slept, sir?” he asked.

“Three days. I will sleep soon. So, tell me what you think.”

“I think it is pointless to try to plan against either Sofarita or the Vagars. The Almecs are the immediate enemy. They must be defeated. In truth we have little chance, but none at all if we are divided. The council meeting did not bode well. The Vagars were tense and uneasy. No real effort was made to draw them into the discussions. But I like the woman Mejana. Her words are careful and well thought out. She is no fool.”

“She ordered the murder of Baliel.”

Talaban rose from his chair. “May I speak frankly, cousin?”

“Always.”

“Put your hatred aside. It will affect your judgment. One enemy at a time. Mejana is, for the moment, an ally. She needs to be wooed like any tribal chieftain. The Almecs require all your thinking, all your enormous gifts of strategy. When they are dealt with, then you can worry about other enemies.”

Rael sighed. “I know what you say is true, but it is hard, Talaban.” He filled a wine goblet and drank deeply. “You say you want to command a land force. Why?”

“You are short of commanders, cousin. Viruk is a fine fighter, but he is no leader. You need someone who can carry your strategies through on the battlefield. I do not wish to sound immodest, but I am the best you have.”

“I cannot afford to lose the
Serpent
, Talaban.”

“You will not lose it. I have another captain in mind. He is bright, courageous and skilled.”

“I know of no one with the training to take command.”

“He is my sergeant, Methras.”

Rael hurled the empty goblet across the room. “A Vagar! You would put our most powerful battle weapons in the hands of a Vagar? Are you insane?”

“He has Avatar blood, Rael,” said Talaban softly. “There is no question of that. And he is loyal.”

“Loyal? Yesterday I would have considered the Vagars at the meeting loyal. I would have considered you
loyal
. Now it seems you have been training Vagars behind my back, breaking the law. My law.”

“Yes, I broke the law,” admitted Talaban. “And I am sorry that has caused you pain. As you know I have tried in the past to teach other Avatars the secrets of handling the
Serpent
. None proved adept at it. None showed any aptitude. When I knew we were facing ships of battle I had to find someone who could take my place if I was injured. Equally I needed someone who could loose the Sunfire. When we sailed into Pagaru’s harbor it was Methras who sank the enemy ships.”

Rael fought for calm. “It is done now, but what is done can be undone.”

“Think for a moment, sir,” urged Talaban. “You will want, at least in the short term, to win over the Vagars on the Council, to convince them that they genuinely have a voice in matters of state. What better way than to announce a Vagar as captain of the
Serpent
—how did you put it?—our most powerful battle weapon? We both know it is only of real use against other ships. Admittedly the Sunfire could be used against land targets, but it only has three charges. Added to which there will
be Avatars aboard, all armed with zhi-bows. Methras could hardly overpower them all.”

Rael sank into his chair. “There is truth in what you say,” he admitted. “It would help win over the Vagars. But let us be honest with one another, my friend. We need a miracle. I pray that Viruk has reached Ammon. That would be a start.”

Viruk was not in the best of spirits as he led his ten Avatars towards the last ridge before the lands of the Erek-jhip-zhonad. He still believed Rael was wrong to send him away from the front line and he had no wish to spend any time at all with foreign sub-humans. It was bad enough being surrounded by Vagars back home.