‘Only those still on the continent,’ said Sofarita, absently.
‘You think I am wrong, lady?’
‘No, not wrong, merely ahead of yourself. My powers are not yet great enough to attack her directly. First I must help Rael destroy this invading force. Then we can think of an assault in the west. Now let us talk of more pleasant matters. You have a beautiful garden here, Ro.’
‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘It is not as fine as Viruk’s, but it gives me great pleasure. I have always enjoyed watching—’
‘She is gone,’ said Sofarita, suddenly. ‘Almeia was watching us, observing and listening. She will return. We do not have much time to plan our journey.’
‘Then you think I am right?’ asked Talaban.
‘Yes, there is no other way. But as soon as we sail she will know what we plan. We will face many dangers.’
‘She is not all-knowing,’ insisted Ro. ‘She did not anticipate the Sunfire, and the destruction of her ships, nor the arrival of the Serpent to save Pagaru. Nor did she succeed in the ambush of Talaban at the pass.’
‘She knows,’ insisted Sofarita, ‘but she is limited by her need for others to carry out her commands. It is one matter to inform a general that a force is moving through a pass, quite another to direct the course of the subsequent battle. Her general, Cas-Coatl, communicates with her through the crystal he wears in his belt. She told him a small force was due in the Gen-el Pass. He sent two of his captains to oppose you. But they had no means of communicating with Almeia. Equally, Cas-Coatl was told of the Sunfire. He thought he could destroy it before the Serpent arrived. He was wrong. Trust me on this. She knows our every weakness. But our strength lies in the time it takes for her orders to be carried out. We will sail to the west. I shall choose a landing place, and tell no-one my choice until we are almost upon it.’
‘I shall come with you, Sofarita,’ said Ro.
‘You are not a warrior, my friend. What will you do there?’
‘I have other talents,’ said the little man. ‘And you will need them.’
‘Then let it be so. We will sail at midnight.’
Viruk sat back in the open-topped carriage, his arm around the shoulders of the potter. ‘Over there,’ he said, ‘is the Great Library.’ Sadau had never seen such a building. He had thought the King’s Palace in Morak was astounding, but this made it look like a mud hut. The Library was massive, two 30-foot-tall statues supporting a colossal lintel stone at the front. Upon the lintel was a statue of a seated man, his hands outstretched. It was the tallest building Sadau had ever seen.
‘Who is the king seated there?’ he asked.
The Fourth Avatar Prime,’ said Viruk. ‘Or the Fifth. I really don’t remember. The building has over three hundred rooms.’ A line of carriages waited outside the building and scores of servants were carrying chests inside.
‘What are they doing?’ asked Sadau. ‘Moving treasure?’
‘Of a kind,’ said Viruk. ‘It is the strongest building in Egaru. Avatar wives and children are being moved here for safety. Now, would you like to see something really special?’
‘Special?’ queried Sadau. ‘It doesn’t involve killing, does it?’
Viruk smiled and patted the man’s back. ‘Why would you think that?’
‘Because I didn’t deliver the head. Because I ran away and hid.’
‘So, you think your death is so important to me that I would hire a carriage merely to transport you to your doom? Come now, potter. Had I wished you dead I would have done it before now.’
‘Thank you, lord,’ said Sadau, remembering how Viruk had reacted when the travellers had first come across the man Boru. Viruk had smiled at him, then drawn a dagger, leapt to the wagon, grabbed the man’s hair and wrenched back his head. The blade was poised above Boru’s throat when the king’s voice rang out.
‘Do not kill him, Viruk, for he is mine!’
The Avatar had stood frozen for a moment, then he had sheathed his blade, sat down beside Boru and placed his arm over the man’s shoulder. Almost exactly in the manner he was doing now. ‘Good to see you again, Boru,’ he said, with a wide smile. ‘How have you been?’