ECHOES OF THE GREAT SONG by David A. Gemmell

‘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.

‘Your arthritis is gone,’ he said. ‘I have given you a taste of what is to come.’

Rzak stretched out his arms. It was true. There was no pain, no stiffness.

‘I told you I had many powerful friends,’ said Judon smugly.

Rzak Xhen seemed to ponder this. Then he spoke. ‘Why would an Avatar wish to see the fall of his own cities?’ he asked.