David Gemmell - Echoes of the Great Song

Despite his fear at this forbidden knowledge Methras found his excitement growing. He felt energized and curiously powerful. Turning, he grinned at Talaban. Then his eyes scanned the panels before him. 'What does this one do?' he asked, pointing at a closed black section with golden hinges.

'One task at a time,' said Talaban. 'Bring her to a gentle stop.' Methras did so, and immediately the ship began to pitch in the swell. 'With no forward motion you must compensate for pitch and roll with this,' said Talaban, leaning forward and gently adjusting a golden wheel set at the centre of the panel. Immediately the ship ceased pitching.

For an hour Talaban instructed the Vagar sergeant in the intricacies of the Serpent. Then, locking the door behind him, he took Methras back to his own cabin and filled two goblets with fine wine.

'You did well,' he said.

'Thank you, sir. But I still don't understand why you shared this knowledge with me.'

'It is a question of trust, Methras. Simply that.'

'I will not betray that trust,' Methras assured him.

'I know. For all my faults I am a good judge of men. Now go and get some rest. Tomorrow I will teach the crew some of the finer points of seamanship aboard a fighting Serpent.''

Methras saluted and left the cabin. He still had no idea why Talaban had honoured him so, but he felt good for it, and he lay upon his cot bed recalling the heady sensations of riding the Serpent.

Three cabins away Touchstone found sleep hard to come by. Every time he drifted towards slumber he would see again the two moons in the sky. Rising from the floor he took his medicine bag in his hands and tried to concentrate on Suryet. It was useless. Her serene face would form in his mind, then fade into a vision of a ghostly moon.

Troubled, the tribesman left the cabin and climbed to the outer deck, tasting the salt upon the air, and watching the bright stars in the dome of the night sky. The moon was low on the horizon.

Three dolphins surfaced close by. One leapt high into the air, its sleek silver form spinning before it dived down into the water. Touchstone felt his spirits lift. Big seas would not trouble the Osnu. They would continue, no matter what disasters befell the human race. Transferring his gaze to the stars once more, Touchstone sought inspiration. He knew what needed to be done and yet feared the result. If he failed he could die, or worse, could become like poor Eagle-With-No-Feathers, slack jawed and imbecilic. Dream walking was a perilous enterprise at best, and then few walkers would consider the journey without the aid of a shaman.

Touchstone had walked twice in his life, both times with the aid of One-Eyed-Fox. He was the greatest of shamen. All the tribes understood this. On the second walk Touchstone had become lost in the stars of the Great Sky River. One-Eyed-Fox had brought him back.

The tribesman would not have considered the dangers of a walk, had it not been for the persistence of the two moon vision, and the fact that it seemed linked to the fate of Suryet. Every time he tried to picture her the vision roared into his mind.

Touchstone sighed, then made his way to Talaban's cabin.

The captain was making more marks on white paper as Touchstone entered, little symbols carefully constructed in lines. He had explained that other men could read these symbols, and they were of value.

Touchstone liked and admired the man, so he did not laugh.

'You look troubled,' said Talaban, putting aside his pen.

'Big troubled. Need help.' Talaban offered him a seat, then sat back. 'Bad vision. Need dream walk to find answer. Fly high. Walk among stars. See future.'

'You have spoken of dream walking before. You said it had many dangers, Touchstone.'

'Yes. Many dangers. But must answer riddle.'

'I thought you needed a shaman for the journey. To help you home.'

'You must bring me home.'

'I don't know how, my friend.'

Touchstone shook his head. 'You share walk. You see what I see. But you hold to ship. To…' he struggled for the right words, 'to life,' he said, at last. 'One hand to ship. One hand to me. You draw Touchstone back.'

'And this vision is important enough to risk your life?'

'And yours,' said Touchstone.

Talaban grinned. 'Well, dream walking is something I have never done. So how do we begin?'

'We sit. On floor. Find trance. Then we fly.'

'Let's do it,' said Talaban.

Talaban locked the door then knelt on the rug facing Touchstone. The tribesman put his hands on Talaban's shoulders. Talaban copied the move. Then Touchstone leaned forward, lowering his head until their skulls touched.

'Hold to ship,' warned Touchstone. 'Or both be lost.'

Talaban did not reply. Relaxing his mind he sought the trance state: focus without concentration, physical tension allied to mental relaxation, the melding of opposites, the closing of the circle. He felt himself moving, spinning, as if he and Touchstone were involved in a bizarre dance. He knew it was not so and that they still knelt together on the rug of his cabin, and yet he allowed the feeling to grow. Colours danced in his mind, swirling rainbows passing over, around and through him. And then he heard music, soaring and primal, the drumbeat of the universe, the eerie singing of cosmic winds, the sighing of unborn stars.

He was floating now in darkness and scenes from his past flowed before his mind's eye; his first voyage to the Hidden Islands and the school there where he studied Anu's star maps, his courtship of Suryet, as they ran together in the high hills above the tepees of the Anajo, his capture of Touchstone, his capture by Talaban. With a jolt he struggled to free himself from the complete union of minds. Drawing back, he held to his own identity. and became aware that Touchstone was going through a similar struggle. The colours flared into life once more and, momentarily, he felt the rug beneath his knees and th emovement of the ship.

Separated but still together the two men relaxed once more, their minds soaring back towards the music.

Sights of infinite beauty filled Talaban's mind, planets and stars, moons and comets, all moving and spinning in the great dance that was eternity.

Excitement swept through him, followed by ecstasy. All the secrets of the universe were flowing through him, too fast to make sense of, but slow enough to see that there was a unity and a sense of underlying purpose to all the scenes. Lost in the wonder of it he floated among the stars of the Great Milk River of the Sky.

He had forgotten Touchstone, forgotten the ship, lost touch with his own small, meaningless life. Here were the answers to every question, every mystery. And he was free — free of care and trouble, free of Strife and discord. Here was harmony. Here was a joy undreamed-of.

Time was meaningless here and he floated on, watching, learning, observing, filled with a sense of increasing wonder. He watched the birth of stars and the death of planets, growing ever more part of the dance.

Two moons.

It was as if a voice had spoken to him, yet without sound. What did it mean? And then he remembered the mystery. So tiny it seemed now, so inconsequential. But even the thought of the riddle gave him a desire to find the answer.

Colours swirled around him once more and he found himself gazing down on a blue planet. Then he was hurtling towards it, passing through clouds, and hovering over vast mountains. Down and down he flew until he recognized Parapolis and the White Pyramid at its centre. People were moving through the marketplace and the temple grounds.

And there, moving across the great courtyard, he saw himself being approached by a Vagar mystic, a ragged man in ragged furs.

The scene shimmered.