ECHOES OF THE GREAT SONG by David A. Gemmell

‘Not all men behave in this way,’ said Ro.

That is true,’ she conceded. ‘And what is their fate? I have watched them also, the poets, the spiritual leaders, the dreamers of harmony. Can you name more than a handful who were not murdered?’

‘I cannot. What you say is true, but what choice do we have now! The Almecs are evil and seek to destroy us. What else can we do but resist them?’

‘You can do nothing else. For you are a man. But beware when you speak of their evil. They are merely a distorted reflection of the Avatar. They live on the blood of others, ritually sacrificing thousands, tearing out their hearts. You Avatars are little different, save that your crystals draw life without the accompanying gore. If the Almecs are evil -then so are you. And they are evil, Questor Ro.’

Ro settled back in his chair and closed his eyes. He was weary now, and the truth of her words hung on him like the weight of death. ‘Why is it that I could not see this before?’ he asked her. ‘Why is it so clear to me now?’

‘I had not touched you then. The power is new to me, and I have not yet learned how to control it. I inadvertently opened a window in your soul that had long been closed. I could close it again for you, should you desire it.’

Ro shook his head. ‘I do not want to lose it again. I feel whole now. Like when I was a child, and the world was full of wonder. What happened to me? How did I lose that youthful passion, that belief in humanity?’

‘Speck by speck,’ she told him, ‘so that you did not know what you were losing. It is the nature of men to build walls around themselves. They think it will protect them from hurt. It does the opposite. The hurt still gets in, but now it rattles around the walls, unable to get out. So you build more walls. You are now seeing the world without walls. You are free, Ro. Free to hurt and free to heal.’

‘What would you have me do?’

She smiled then, a radiant smile, and, leaning forward, took his hand. ‘Go and take your bath. Then rest. Tomorrow I shall speak with the Questor General. You will bring him here.’

‘You are still willing to help us?’

‘I will aid you in your battle with the Almecs.’

Chapter Nineteen

As Ro left the room the lanterns died down once more. Sofarita closed her eyes and freed her spirit, flying high over the ocean. Such was the speed of her flight that she chased down the setting sun, watching it appear to rise majestically from the west. As a simple villager she had assumed the earth to be a vast flat plate, the sun slowly revolving around it. She had been surprised and delighted to discover its true shape and its place in the heavens. Now she experienced another delight. The western continent was bathed in sunshine while the eastern lands were covered by a cloak of darkness. She had moved from midnight to mid-afternoon in the space of a few heartbeats.

The land below her was rugged and mountainous, the valleys lush and green, the rivers huge and sparkling. To the north she could see yet more mountains, snow-covered and ancient. South she flew, over mountains and hills and vast plains. Far below her she saw what appeared to be a colossal brown snake gliding slowly over the grassland. Dropping lower she realized she was gazing at a massive herd of shaggy brown animals moving along the line of a river. There were too many to count, and the herd stretched back for miles.

On she flew, soaring above forests of tall trees, and glittering lakes fed by rushing water from the melting snows of the mountains.

The first people she saw were living by a lake, their few dwellings created from hides stretched over poles. Several children were playing by the water’s edge, while four women were stretching out hides and scraping the grease from them with sharp stones. There were no men to be seen, and Sofarita decided they must be hunting.