David Gemmell - Echoes of the Great Song

'You are asking for a lot of trust,' said Rael. 'Both from me — and from the men who will toil for twenty years.'

'Much could go wrong,' admitted the old man. 'But I must not fail, my friend. You have no idea how important this is.'

'I am sure you will tell me in your own good time, my friend,' said Rael, rising to leave. 'By the way, Mirani sends her love.'

Anu relaxed and smiled. 'She is a good woman — too good for you, I fear.'

'Who could disagree,' replied Rael, returning the smile. 'She will not return to the Council. She spends her time now Grafting pots and painting them.'

'There will still be potters when we are a fading memory,' said Anu.

The following morning Anu, with the aid of his favourite acolyte Shevan, made his slow way up three nights of stairs to the tower rooms. High arched windows had been set into the four walls, and Anu moved to the eastern window. Sunlight was glittering on the estuary of the Luan River, and from here, on the opposite coast, he could see the marble towers of Pagaru.

'Do you regret your decision, sir?' Shevan asked him.

'I regret many things,' said Anu, his gaze scanning the city on the opposite shore. 'Built too fast,' he

'What was too fast, sir?' asked Shevan.

'Pagaru was the foothold city, the fortress. When we first came here six hundred years ago the tribes were all at war and we needed to build fast, before they perceived the threat we posed. The walls were in place within two weeks. Too fast. They are not as strong as they might be, nor as aesthetically pleasing. A hundred years later we built Egaru. Far stronger. The others followed, strung out like pearls along the shoreline. Boria was my favourite city for a long time. Many artists and poets lived there, gentle men. Aye, and philosophers. I spent many a happy evening sitting upon the white beach debating the meaning of life. Have you been to Boria?'

'Of course, sir. I was trained there.'

'Ah yes. I had forgotten. Did you know it was the last city built with the Music?'

'Yes, sir. You have told me. Many times.'

'I have never visited Pejkan and Caval. I am told they are ugly and squalid.'

'They are merchant cities, sir, and few Avatars live there. But, yes, they are not attractive.'

Moving to the western window Arm squinted against the setting sun, which turned the sea to blood. 'That is where the future lies, Shevan,' he said. 'The unknown hinterlands of the western continent. We charted the coastlines, but never ventured far inland. It was a mistake, I fear.' He sighed. 'We have made so many mistakes.'

Shevan waited until the old man had moved to the southern window. Here he fell silent, his grey eyes spanning a distance no rule could measure. 'It could have been so beautiful. No diseases, no hunger, no death.'

'We have conquered these things, sir,' Shevan pointed out.

'Yes, we have. We five hundred. Much of the world shivers under a blanket of ice, thousands starve, millions die prematurely. But we five hundred hold the keys

to immortality's gates. And we guard our knowledge so well.'

'We have no choice,' said Shevan. 'The barbarians are not ready for such knowledge.'

The old man chuckled and sat down in a wide leather chair. 'Not ready? Indeed they are not. But then we make sure they are not. We have made no effort to prepare them for the journey. Quite the reverse. We encourage them to believe in our divine right to eternity.'

'Is that not also a truth?' asked Shevan. 'Are we not divinely chosen?'

'Perhaps,' agreed Anu. 'As perhaps the race before us was chosen. I do not know. What is certain is that I am the oldest living man on this world. Next year will be my two thousandth. What do you think of that?'

'I thank the Source for it, sir.'

Anu shook his head. 'Sometimes I don't know whether to thank the Source or curse it.' Leaning forward he laid the crystals on a narrow desk, where they glittered in the fading light. 'What do you see?' he asked the slim younger man.

Shevan moved to a chair opposite the desk and sat down, his blue eyes staring hard at the white, blue and green crystals. 'I see that the blue is down to less.than half-power, but that the white and green are almost fully charged,' he said. 'What should I be seeing, sir?'

'Lost souls and the mathematics of eternity,' said Anu, sadly.

'I do not understand, sir,' said Shevan. 'What has mathematics to do with souls?'

'The universe is based on mathematics,' answered the old man. 'Perfection in apparent chaos. But this is no time for lessons, Shevan. Leave me, for I must become young again.'

Viruk had no doubts concerning the holiness of Questor Anu. The One God had spoken to the man, warning him of the terrors to come. He had preached the word at the Temple in Parapolis. The seventeen-year-old Viruk had watched him being jeered and mocked. When Questor Anu concluded his address and walked back down the temple steps Viruk had run to intercept him.

'How did he speak to you?' asked Viruk. Anu had stopped and turned to scrutinize the young man.

'Through mathematics,' he said. Viruk had been disappointed, for he too had heard the voice of the Source, and he knew it to be soft and sibilant.

'I don't understand,' he said.

'Walk with me,' said Anu, and together they had strolled through the deer park. Anu had explained that ancient records spoke of a great disaster, during which the stars would move in the sky and the sun rise in the west. 'It is a cycle,' said Anu. 'And it will happen again very soon. Some time during the summer. The mathematical formula has taken me two centuries, but I now believe I have calculated the time of the event down to within a few weeks.'

'If the world is going to topple, then how can you survive?' asked Viruk.

'I believe our colony in the far north will escape the worst of the cataclysm. I hope to lead a thousand of our brethren to the sanctuary of the Luan River.'

'God speaks to me also,' the young Viruk told him.

'Then ask him what your course should be.'

'He doesn't listen to me,' said Viruk. 'He merely tells me to do things. I know nothing of the northern colony.

What is there?'

'Hostile savages. But think carefully before committing yourself. The way will be hard, young man. And, I fear, violent and full of many dangers. We will face attack from tribes, and peril from ferocious animals.'

'I will come,' said Viruk instantly.

He had been one of the 200 and, as Anu had predicted, the journey was hazardous. Viruk had enjoyed it immensely. Three times they had been attacked, and on each occasion Viruk had killed many, watching their bodies writhe. He had been disappointed when the attacks ceased. Word moved among the tribes to let the Avatars pass, for they were fearsome warriors and their weapons were terrifying.

They had reached the first of the five cities on the fourteenth day of summer.

Then the world fell, and Questor Anu became the Holy One.

Two prophecies had come true. Questor Anu had predicted the cataclysm, and Viruk learned that the Source was true to his word. For his inner voice had told him that killing would prove the ultimate pleasure. Kill for me, it said, and know joy.