David Gemmell - Echoes of the Great Song

Anu smiled and turned away.

'Tell me, Lord, why do you play music for the blocks when they are already in place?' he asked. Anu paused, then swung back to face the Vagar. In the bright constant moonlight his blue hair shone like polished silver.

'The stone remembers my tunes,' he said seriously. Then he laughed at the look of confusion on Yasha's face.

'Each block is created by the bonding of millions of fragments, and each fragment also contains millions of particles. Possibly each particle is also a composite of many smaller pieces. The Music goes into the stone, absorbed into each fragment, each particle. And the song goes on — perhaps for ever — within the structure.'

'I can't hear it,' said Yasha.

'And yet the Music is all around us. The universe is a song, Yasha. We are part of it. Have you ever wondered why Man is so drawn to music? Why we gather wherever it is played. Why we dance to it, adjusting our bodies to the rhythms?'

'Because it feels good,' said the Vagar.

'Yes, it feels good. It feels natural, for that is what it is. Those moments when music touches our souls remind us that we are part of the Great Song. All of us — Avatar, Vagar, tribesman, nomad. And every tree and plant, and bird and animal. We are all essential to the harmony of the Music.'

'Maybe so, Holy One, but it seems to me that the Avatars have been granted all the best tunes.' He regretted his words instantly, for they came dangerously close to dissension. But Anu merely nodded.

'You are quite right, Yasha. But nothing is for ever, whatever my brothers prefer to believe. This structure we are creating together is not for the Avatar alone. It is for the world. For you, and your children, and the children of your children.'

'I do not have any children, Holy One.'

Anu laid his slender hand on Yasha's shoulder. 'You have seventeen children,' he said. 'And you sired another this evening. You really should make an effort to keep in touch with your women.'

Yasha chuckled. 'The women I sleep with have many partners, Holy One. Hard to say who fathered which child. And I like it that way. Have you ever been married?'

'No, I cannot say the idea ever appealed to me.'

'Me neither. Maybe when I get old and I want a little more warmth in my bed.'

'I have been old,' said Anu. 'There is some joy, but no warmth to be found.'

With that he bade his foreman good night and walked slowly away to his tent.

Sofarita sat quietly in an ante-room outside the Council Chamber, her eyes closed, her face serene. Two Avatar guards stood close by. One was thinking of the new horse he had acquired, and whether it would be as fast as its sire. He was also considering whether or not to have it gelded. The other guard was thinking of Sofarita, and how good it would be to bed her. Their thoughts were intrusive and Sofarita tried to push them away.

The simplest method was to float free of her body and close her spirit ears to their considerations. This she did, and was immediately rewarded with a sense of peace. Now they were merely anonymous soldiers.

It had been a long and interesting day. First Questor Ro had taken her to his house. Sofarita had never been inside so spectacular a home, with its bright rooms, exquisite furniture, its wonderfully woven rugs, and its garden filled with flowering trees and shrubs. Here she had eaten a mouth-watering meal and had been waited upon by servants. The plate upon which her meal was served was blue and white, glazed to a brilliant shine, and her wine was deep and red and rich beyond anything she had tasted before. During the afternoon Questor Ro sent for a gown-maker. He had arrived with a score of dresses and ankle-length gowns in materials so soft and intoxicating that the woman Sofarita had once been could easily have believed she had died and been brought home to live with the gods. But she was not that woman any longer, and the luxury and splendour of Avatar life seemed now to be ephemeral and insubstantial. Water drunk from a golden goblet was still water, and the same, free, sunlight glittered from glass and diamond alike. Wealth merely symbolized might, and Sofarita needed no symbols. Day by day her intellect was growing. And with it her power.

Dressed, as now, in a flowing gown of shimmering white satin, she had met with the Questor General. He was, it seemed to Sofarita, an intelligent man, cultured and sensitive.

She had taken him on the same flight as Questor Ro. He had observed the thirty golden ships and had estimated their arrival at Egaru within twenty-four hours.

He had questioned her at length about her powers, and asked her if she had ever come into contact with a healing crystal. Sofarita was not skilled at lying, but equally she knew that Viruk had broken the law by healing her cancer. 'Yes,' she said, finally. 'I was dying and an Avatar healed me. I will say no more.'

Rael nodded, as if understanding her reticence. His thoughts were easy to read, but of little interest to Sofarita. He was still thinking strongly of the golden ships and how to deal with them. But one striking thought came through, tinged with dread.

Crystal-joined.

Sofarita picked up an image of a young girl, slowly turning to glass, dying in cold and brittle agony. She felt Rael's pain and drew back from him, allowing him privacy in his remembered grief.

Coming back to the present she wondered how the debate was proceeding within the chamber, and drifted through the wall to hover above the long table. The Questor General was sitting at the head of the table, a slim man with close-cropped blue hair and keen, discerning eyes. He and the other twenty people present were listening to a hugely fat man. He was adorned with gold, rings on every chubby finger and a massive gold torque upon his swollen neck. Sofarita scanned the councillors.

Questor Ro looked angry, his face pale. Beside him sat a slim hawk-faced man fighting to keep a smile from his features. As the fat man continued to speak Ro suddenly stormed to his feet, pointing and shouting. Sofarita, her spirit ears closed, wondered what the row was about.

Tentatively she allowed sound to penetrate.'… insane! Have you completely lost your wits, Caprishan?'

'Not I, but you,' replied the fat man. 'Whatever were you thinking of, Ro? The Vagars exist as our servants.

That is what the Source intended. To allow one to live who has demonstrated such power is to undermine everything we stand for. It sends a message to all Vagars that they can aspire to be our equals. And that, my friends,' he said, turning his gaze from Ro, 'would be the beginning of the end for us. I recommend that the woman be put to death forthwith!'

As he sat down the Questor General signalled for Ro to speak. The little man tugged on his blue forked beard. These are desperate times, my friends,' he began, still struggling to control his temper. 'I have seen the enemy and he is powerful. Very powerful. Thirty ships are on their way here and others have already landed in the far south. Through Sofarita's power we can observe them, listen to their plans perhaps, and outwit them.

Without her we are blind to their ambitions. To talk of continuing Vagar subjugation at such a time is to miss the point entirely. When an avalanche threatens a house one does not wonder whether people will be available to clean the windows.'

The hawk-faced man raised his hand. 'We recognize our cousin Niclin,' said the Questor General. Ro sat down.

'There is a major flaw in Questor Ro's reasoning,' he said. 'We do not know whether the newcomers represent an avalanche or a blessing. They are Avatars, like us. We could be at the dawn of a new age of greatness. Until they arrive, and state their intentions, we cannot judge them. What we do know is that they possessed a power source that enabled them to escape the cataclysm in their own world. Together our combined knowledge could create awesome possibilities for the future. But that is surely a secondary question.