David Gemmell - Echoes of the Great Song

'Why should we pay taxes to the Avatar?' Judon asked them. 'Who granted them ownership of our lands?

Why do we allow them to dominate us, to keep us impoverished while they grow rich upon our sweated labours?

The time has come, my friends — my brothers! — to rid ourselves of these leeches.'

'And how do we accomplish this?' asked an elderly leader. 'Their weapons would tear an army asunder. I myself took part in last year's revolt. Eight thousand died upon that battlefield.'

'They did not die in vain,' said Judon. 'The weapons you speak of are almost exhausted. I know that there are less than fifty zhi-bows left among the Avatars.'

He had their full attention now. 'The tribes represented here can muster forty thousand warriors within the month. The cities could be ours before the first cool wind of autumn. Think of that, my brothers.'

'Aye, we can think of it,' said another leader. 'But I have two questions: firstly, how do you know the strength of their weapons, and secondly where are the Erek-jhip-zhonad? They should be here.'

Judon smiled. 'I know because I know. I have friends in the five cities. Good friends who are tired of Avatar tyranny. As for the Mud People…' he spread his fat arms wide. 'Perhaps they remain in fear of the Blue-hair. I do not speak for them. When we have taken the cities they can come to us on bended knee and beg for scraps from our table.'

'They have twenty thousand warriors,' said the first speaker. 'I do not think they will need to beg. And I, for one, will not commit my soldiers to battle the Avatars without the People of the Stars.'

Judon masked his irritation. The speaker was Rzak Xhen, leader of the Hantu tribe, whose lands bordered those of the Erek-jhip-zhonad. If he were won over he would bring more than 5,000 fighting men with him.

'My dear Rzak, your caution is commendable. I would also prefer the Mud People to ride with us. But, when we conquer, there will be greater riches without them. Now let us break off and eat. The sun is high and hot, and we can meet again this evening.'

Judon's huge arms pressed down on the side supports of the black throne. With a monumental effort he heaved his bulk upright and moved back into his tent. Here he lay down on padded cushions.

A slender figure stepped forward from the rear of the tent. His face was youthful, his head covered with the white linen burnous of the Hizhak tribe. He sat down beside Judon. 'Rzak Xhen is a mouthpiece for the Mud People,' he said. 'But I think I know how to sway him.'

'We should cut his treacherous throat,' advised Judon.

The young man smiled. 'Invite him here this evening, before the meeting. I will bring him to our cause.'

'How will you achieve this miracle?' asked Judon.

'As I did with you, my lord.'

'That is too much!' objected the king.

'How badly do you want his help?'

Judon filled a goblet with wine and drained it. 'Do it, then — but once we have won I'll want his head.'

Rzak Xhen was a serious man. Left to his own devices he would have worked tirelessly for his Hantu people, increasing their wealth and their prestige, quietly building their strength. Not a man of war, yet he was a fine soldier and strategist, and he was held in great respect by the leaders of minor tribes surrounding Hantu lands.

His warriors did not encroach on their territories, and where lesser leaders used sword and spear to dominate their neighbours Rzak Xhen used trade. He had little regard for Judon of the Patiakes. His line was predatory, and inclined to war.

Rzak sat in his tent awaiting the invitation he was sure would come. His eldest son, Hua, sat beside him.

'He will offer us riches,' said Hua Xhen. Rzak shook his head.

'Land. He will promise to increase Hantu lands.'

Hua smiled. 'Better than gold, father. We could ask for the Griam Valley. That would give us a route to the sea, and better trade.'

Again Rzak shook his head. 'He will not offer what he himself possesses. He is too greedy to part with anything he already owns. No, he will offer us Avatar land — perhaps one of the five cities.'

'What will you do?'

'I will offer to think on it. Then we will go home and prepare our soldiers. When we refuse him he will attack us first.'

'Why refuse him, father?'

'Because he is a pig, with a pig's appetite. He will — ultimately — share nothing.'

'And you believe Ammon will?'

The older man looked into his son's eyes. He smiled. 'That is better,' he said, a touch of pride in his voice.

'Now you are thinking. Of course Ammon will not share. He will expect us to be his vassals. And we will be.

Loyal and true. That way the Hantu will continue to grow strong. There is a significant difference between Ammon and Judon. Can you tell me what it is?'

'Both are kings, both seek glory,' answered Hua. 'I do not detect any great dissimilarity.'

'Think on it, my son. The answer will come to you.'

Rzak fell silent. Hua was a sensible lad. Not a great intellect, but he was, at least, capable of learning and, given time, he would make a capable leader of the Hantu. The difference between the two kings was obvious to Rzak. Both kings sought glory, but Judon wanted it for himself, whereas Ammon of the Erek-jhip-zhonad desired it for his people. Such men build civilizations. Warlords like Judon destroy them.

The invitation came at dusk, and Rzak struggled to his feet, his arthritic knees paining him. Slowly he walked across the desert floor to the silken tent of Judon. The Patiakes guards offered him no salute, but they stepped aside for him, opening the tent flap. Rzak stepped inside.

The fat king was lounging on padded cushions, a golden goblet full of wine in his chubby hand. A younger man was sitting cross-legged beside him. He was wearing a white burnous, and a white cotton robe. Judon gestured Rzak to join him. The elderly leader suppressed a groan as he sat.

'Welcome, my brother,' said Judon. 'You honour me with your presence.'

The words were oily, as was the smile that accompanied them. 'How can I be of service?' asked Rzak.

'You could offer me five thousand warriors,' Judon told him. 'The Avatars are finished. One great attack would bring them down. Think of the riches that would accrue to the conquerors.'

'I have riches,' said Rzak. 'More than I could spend in what remains of my lifetime.'

'Then think of the new lands which will be open to you. I am willing to open a tract of the Griam Valley, allowing you a route to the sea. Added to which you will control Pagaru, the first of the five.'

Rzak sat back against the silk cushions and looked into Judon's deep-set eyes. For him to have offered the Griam Valley so easily made Rzak suspicious. He flicked a glance to the young man in the white burnous. He was annoyed, but was trying to mask his irritation. This confirmed Rzak's suspicions. The offer was too high, too soon. And that made it worthless. When at last Rzak spoke his voice was even and he managed a small smile.

'You are very generous, Judon. I will think on what you have said.'

'My offer is not yet done,' said the king. 'What is it that the Avatar possess which fills your heart with yearning?'

'Immortality,' said Rzak at once.

'This I can also give you.'

Rzak Xhen gave a cold smile. 'It would be best not to mock me, Judon. I make a very good enemy.'

There is no mockery,' said the king. Turning to the young man he spoke. 'Show him!'

The youth rose smoothly and stepped across to where Rzak sat. Reaching into the pouch at his side he produced a cheap green crystal. As he leaned over the Hantu leader Rzak reached into his sleeve and drew a short dagger which he held to the young man's belly. 'I do not like tricks,' he said.

'No more do I,' agreed the young man. Touching the crystal to Rzak's chest, he closed his eyes. Heat permeated Rzak's skin and the throbbing pain from his joints ceased. The young man stepped back.