David Gemmell - Echoes of the Great Song

'Did anyone get out?' he asked her.

'Three children were carried clear. One died, the others are only shocked.' Rael said no more, but ran into the ruins with the other Avatars, and began tearing at the fallen rocks.

As the night wore on more and more bodies were pulled from the wreckage. By dawn the scale of the massacre became known. Two hundred and seventeen Avatars had died, or were still missing. Only four of the women and two of the children had escaped.

Rael found Mirani just before dawn. She had tried to shield two children from falling masonry. Their bodies were beneath hers, her arms around them. Avatars and

Vagars worked together to clear away the stones. Rael lifted her body clear and sat back on the rubble, cradling her to him. He did not speak, and his soul was too heavy for weeping. He just held her close and rocked to and fro.

Some distance away, exhausted, Mejana sat and watched his silent grief.

Two stretcher bearers stood by nervously, afraid to approach Rael. Mejana walked across to the Questor General. 'It is time to let her go,' she said. Rael looked up at her. He did not speak. Then he kissed Mirani one last time and carried her to the stretcher.

With the rising of the morning sun Rael gathered his last soldiers, and together — all save Caprishan — they returned to the armoury and clothed themselves in the silver armour of the Crystal Wars.

For Ro it was a different kind of pain. There was no longing involved in it, no yearning to draw the life from others. For him it was the pain of despair, of bereavement and loss, allied to an aching of the limbs that made him feel his muscles were slowly tearing themselves apart.

He sat cross-legged upon the rug holding onto Sofarita's hands. His fingers were numb now, his thoughts almost desolate. Tears fell from his eyes and he would have welcomed death like an old friend. She sensed his increasing despair and allowed the pain to flow back inside her. Ro sighed with the release from agony.

And so, locked into the rituals of the Avatar Prime, they endured the journey, sharing the pain, each holding to it for as long as possible, then allowing the other to take up the burden.

On the evening of the third day, as the Serpent approached the land mass of the western continent, Sofarita felt the power returning to her. It came like a breath of sweet breeze, faint crystal energies flowing over her. She drank them in. They tasted of life.

Drawing in a deep breath she released Ro's hands. He opened his eyes, smiled at her, then slumped to the floor, exhausted. Reaching forward she tenderly stroked his cheek, then she rose and stretched. Moving from the cabin to the central deck she stood in the last light of sunset and watched the gulls wheel and dive over the ship.

Talaban saw her there and moved alongside her. 'How are you faring, lady?' he asked her.

'Ro saved me,' she said.

'I know. I came to your cabin many times and saw the two of you sitting there. He is a good man.'

'The very best,' she said.

Without another word she moved away and sat on a coil of rope by the port deck rail. Releasing her spirit she soared high over the distant bay, across the darkening land and its forests and plains, seeking out the One-Eyed-Fox. The encampment she had first encountered was in ruins now. Blackened tent poles flanked the river and several bodies lay on the ground. But there had been no wholesale massacre. The Anajo had largely escaped the attack. She searched the area, and found a mass grave near the tree line. Allowing her spirit to sink beneath the earth she found the grave contained around forty bodies of Almec warriors.

The Anajo had not only survived, but had inflicted heavy losses upon the enemy.

As high as a hunting eagle Sofarita flew in a wide circle over the land seeking sign of movement. She saw an Almec column of close to 500 men.moving towards the east. As she flew towards it she saw a second, smaller force running through the trees two miles ahead. Sofarita sped over them. They were Anajo, seventeen men and three women. Their faces were smeared red and blue and they carried short hunting bows and quivers. In their belts were battleaxes made of flint.

As she came closer the first of the twenty runners paused and looked up. He was a middle-aged man, with deeply tanned skin and deep-set brown eyes. He raised his hand, palm outwards towards her, and smiled. Then he knelt, folded his arms across his chest, his spirit rising from his body.

'It is good to see you, my sister,' he said.

'Your enemies are close behind,' she told him.

'They will not catch us until we wish them to. Is Touch-the-Moon with you?'

'Yes. And Talaban.'

'Aiya!' he said, his tone triumphant. 'That is good. I have my wolf soldiers with me. Come ashore in the bay and head south-west towards the highest mountain. We will meet you there. We will fight the last battle, yes?'

'There is no need,' she told him. 'The Crystal Queen knows about Anu and his pyramid. My journey here is now futile.'

'Not so, my sister. I have walked the Grey Road. I have seen. She is trying to pierce the magic around his encampment. She seeks to stop him before he completes his work. You can drain her power. You can give Anu time. Nothing is futile. Go to the mountain. We will draw the Almecs away from you.' He paused and sorrow touched his face. 'First, though, fly to your city of stone. Much has happened there. The Spirits of Death fly over it and the Ravens wait for the heroes to ride. I will see you on the mountain.' Fading back into his body he waved a farewell, then led his runners away to the north.

Sofarita returned to the ship, told Talaban to head for the bay, then journeyed again to Egaru.

When she returned less than half an hour later she found Ro and Talaban and Touchstone waiting. The Serpent was at anchor in the bay, and from here she could see the tall mountains to the south-west. 'That is where we must go,' she said. 'The One-Eyed-Fox awaits us there.'

'How many warriors does he have?' asked Talaban.

'Twenty.'

'Did you see any Almecs?'

'Hundreds,' she said. Talaban swore softly.

'I promised Rael to send the ship and its crew back to Egaru. But we will sorely need the ship's twenty Avatar bowmen. Is there time for you to contact him and request them?'

'No,' she said, her voice hard. 'But they will be neither needed, nor welcome, at Egaru. Use them as you will.'

'What does that mean?' he asked her.

'I do not wish to speak of it yet. Let us get ashore.'

'You think they are going to betray us?' asked Pendar, as the 112 Avatars rode through the southern gates heading along the coastal road. Mejana leaned on the parapet and watched the riders. She did not answer. How fine they look in their silver armour, she thought, like heroes of legend. It was confusing to see them like this.

These were the evil men who had dominated her people, extending their own lives by draining the life force of others. The same men who had taken her daughter, leaving her senile and spent. Yet now the sun glittered upon them, and they were riding to their deaths to save the cities. Mejana no longer knew what to think or feel. She had plotted their downfall for so long, so many lonely bitter years.

And here was the day.

There was no feeling of triumph in the air, no heady joy. This was not as she had imagined it.

'They'll make a pact with the Almecs,' said Boru. 'They cannot be trusted. We will all go to our deaths.'

'You may be right,' said Mejana, at last. 'But I do not think so. Their wives and their children are dead, their power almost gone, their day over. We will follow the last orders of the Questor General.'

The area to the east of the city was still flooded, but to the south the ground rose and she could see Rael in his silver armour leading his riders up a low hill. Glancing back she looked down at the hundreds of militia men waiting nervously behind the gates. Some were armed with swords and spears, but most carried knives or rough-made clubs. They had no armour and there were few bowmen among them. She swung to Pendar.