Roger Taylor - The Return of the Sword

There was another long silence. ‘You’re trying to tell me that what happened was actually impossible,’ Antyr offered tentatively.

‘Yes, damn it, he is,’ Andawyr said, this time unequivocally angry. He swung off the bed. ‘Quite impossible. Let’s get out of here, I need to think properly. Oslang, take Antyr to my study. I’ll join you there shortly when I’ve washed and changed.’

‘Do you want me?’ It was Yatsu.

Andawyr looked at him and his grim expression softened into a smile. ‘Ah, the ever-patient, ever-watching Goraidin. Our silent Beacon out in the world. Where would we be without you? I’d forgotten you were here, Yatsu, I’m sorry. Thanks for what you’ve done tonight. I suspect you saved lives, keeping Oslang in his seat and our vigilant Brothers out of the room. You’re welcome to join us if you wish, but it’ll just be endless talk. There’ll be no more “experiments” tonight, you can rest assured.’

Yatsu bowed. ‘You don’t think you’ll need me to keep you two apart?’ He nodded towards Oslang.

‘I have the feeling that Antyr can cope with that,’ Andawyr replied.

Yatsu smiled. ‘Then I’ll leave you. It’s been a long day.’

Andawyr’s study was only a little way from his bedroom, but on the way to it Oslang and Antyr passed quite a few people apparently engaged on urgent, if discreet, errands. Though they received nothing but quiet, passing greetings, Antyr gained the distinct impression that they were attracting a great deal of attention.

Oslang gave him a weary look. ‘It’s going to be pandemonium tomorrow,’ he said. ‘One of the disadvantages of encouraging so many clever and irredeemably curious people to become even cleverer and more curious is that they do.’

His hangdog manner drew a laugh followed by an insincere apology from Antyr.

When they entered Andawyr’s study, lights came on to reveal a room that was markedly different from his bedroom. It bristled with quiet efficiency. Two walls were lined with simple, elegant shelves stacked with books and scrolls. All of these were set out in a neat and orderly fashion and were clearly labelled. They complemented several sets of drawers of various sizes that in their turn were also carefully labelled. A series of small tables served as satellites to a large one in the centre of the room, and there were two decorated panels that Antyr now knew to be mirror stone windows.

‘Different, isn’t it?’ Oslang said, correctly interpreting Antyr’s hesitation and his surprised expression.

‘It is indeed,’ Antyr replied.

Tarrian and Grayle pushed past them to make their own detailed examination of the room.

‘There is a reason for this,’ Oslang went on, confidentially. ‘When Andawyr says that tidiness isn’t his strong point, it really is a gross understatement.’ Oslang tapped his temple. ‘In here there are thoughts as sharp as crystals, lines of logic straighter than the horizon at sea, a childlike clarity of vision, and leaps of intuition for which the word inspired is also an understatement. But out here…’ He shook his head. ‘He’s a disaster. So this place is in the nature of a compromise. It’s his and, for the most part, his alone, but we…’ He tapped his chest. ‘Keep it – and the records of his work – tidy and in good order. It causes a little friction from time to time, but on the whole it works.’

‘Compromise?’ Antyr queried.

‘The compromise is that he lets us keep the place – and him – in some semblance of order and, in return, we feed him.’

‘Oh, that kind of a compromise,’ Antyr laughed, taken again by Oslang’s quietly acid manner. ‘I’m familiar with the idea. It’s what I would call doing as I’m told.’ This time Oslang laughed, a deep, restrained affair that nevertheless lit up his face. He ushered Antyr to a seat at the large table.

‘Speaking of which,’ Antyr finally voiced the question that had occurred to him several times since his first meeting with Andawyr. ‘Who does tell anyone what to do around here?’

Oslang gave him a puzzled look, obliging him to stumble on awkwardly.

‘There seems to be an almost total absence of formal authority here. Andawyr is described as the Leader, and you are the Under Leader, yet you wear no special clothes or insignia. Andawyr’s living quarters seem to be no different from anyone else’s, at least from the outside. He eats in a public refectory. You’re both spoken to by the likes of Ar-Billan and Usche – your juniors in every sense – as casually, as openly as…’ He paused.

‘As you and I are talking now?’ Oslang prompted. ‘As equals.’

‘Well, yes,’ Antyr agreed.

‘Does this disturb you?’

‘No,’ Antyr said without hesitation, though his tone gave the contrary answer. ‘Quite the opposite… I think. It’s just that I find it very unusual. Where I come from – particularly in the palaces of the rich and powerful – it’s quite the reverse. People know their places and everyone else’s and have due regard for them. Respect for those in authority is conspicuous.’

Oslang looked at him narrowly. ‘I think you mean that a show of respect to those with power is conspicuous, don’t you? That people behave in ways that best serve their own ends – be it survival against the arbitrary abuse of authority by others, or the gaining of that authority for themselves – ambition.’

‘I suppose I do,’ Antyr agreed reluctantly after some thought. ‘That’s quite often the case. But not always. There are some in authority who are both feared and quite genuinely respected.’

‘But only some.’

Antyr began to flounder. ‘Yes… but… I didn’t mean to criticize the way you do things here…’

Oslang smiled. ‘I’m just teasing you a little,’ he said. ‘Something of a risk with a guest, but my feeling was that you’d take it in good part.’ Before Antyr could in fact respond, Oslang edged his chair a little closer and became instructive. ‘I’m at far greater risk of sounding smug when I tell you about us, because it was an interesting question. There is authority here, of course. A pecking order’s inevitable whenever there’s more than one person present – it’s the nature of the creatures we are. But, on the whole, it’s not a rigid thing and we manage to avoid the worst excesses of the pack.’ Tarrian’s ears went up. Abruptly, Oslang was earnest. ‘We were created by Ethriss to acquire knowledge – and perhaps wisdom – so that it could be brought to bear against a terrible enemy. But he also told us to go beyond – to search forever – because our greatest enemy will always be ignorance – ignorance of ourselves, ignorance of the world around us. So that’s what we do – what we’ve always done, with varying degrees of success. We accumulate knowledge both for its practical value and its own sake – for the beauty and wonder we find there. We set great faith in reason – in open inquiry – truth seeking – testing by both argument and experiment – testing ruthlessly.’

He raised a finger to forestall a question from Antyr. ‘And in this search we despise no source of knowledge. Insight comes from the strangest of places. Andawyr will listen to a stable-hand as keenly as he would to me or any of the other senior Brothers. Sometimes the least word can change a perspective completely – shine an unexpected light into the darkness – sometimes a darkness you didn’t even know was there. And anyone who joins us has to learn that from the outset. We try to minimize the more corrosive effects of our personal vanities with honesty and trust. Not that it’s always possible by any means – it’s no easy lesson to learn. We’re still pack animals at heart and more than a little fallible. But on the whole we aspire to be a community of self-sufficient, co-operating individuals and the authority that any of us holds has strong roots in both ability and general consent. It helps, of course, that it’s an exciting time with many new things happening and plenty for everyone to do both here and out in the world. I suppose what you might call the “government” of this place is both structured and unstructured. Structured in that each of us, of course, has specific responsibilities and must account for any failure to fulfil them. Unstructured in that everyone also accepts responsibility for the whole.’ He chuckled. ‘Andawyr, for example, will do more than just chat to stable-hands. If the stable needs cleaning and everyone else is better employed, he’ll clean it himself.’