All save the Holy One. He aged by the day, growing ever more frail.
It was as if he alone had accepted the burden of their passing years. At first the workers had found the change in him disconcerting, but slowly they had come to love him for it. His physical deterioration made a powerful contrast to their perpetual youth.
When news reached them of the terrible war raging beyond the mist they felt safe here, and when Anu assured them that the building they were constructing would save the cities, and their families, they worked even harder and with greater zeal.
Now it was almost over, Yasha felt curiously bereft.
He stood in the deserted camp staring up at the golden pyramid. One million two hundred thousand blocks of limestone and granite weighing three million tons and standing 250 feet high. One hundred courses of stone, some blocks weighing in excess of 25 tons.
It was a monumental achievement.
Anu had earlier thanked his workers and sent them towards the north to hide in the hills above the stone quarries. ‘The enemy is coming now,’ he said, his voice so weak that the closest to him had to echo his words for the men behind who could not hear them. ‘The enemy will not seek you. They will come to the pyramid and then they will depart in their golden ships. I promise you this. You will return to your homes, and you will receive every part of the fortune promised you. Go now with my blessing.’
Yasha stood alone now outside the hut of the Holy One. Anu had asked him to wait while the others fled. The burly foreman cast his gaze over the deserted shacks that had housed the whores and idly wondered how many women he had enjoyed during the timeless decades that he had worked in this place.
The door of the hut creaked open and Anu moved slowly and painfully into the light. He was carrying several rolls of papyrus. ‘Thank you for waiting,’ he said.
‘We must be going, Holy One,’ said Yasha. ‘I will carry you.’
‘I am not leaving, Yasha. But you can carry me.’ With a trembling hand he pointed to the pyramid. ‘Take me there. To the peak.’
The ladders were still in place and Yasha lifted the old man and carried him across the open ground. Then he took Anu on his back and slowly climbed to the top of the pyramid. The peak was flat, for Anu had insisted there be no capstone. Yasha found this strange, for the pyramid was perfect in every other detail.
Anu sat down on the golden stone and together the two men looked around the valley.
‘A long time ago I made you a promise, Yasha,’ said Anu. ‘I said that this pyramid would not be just for the Avatar, but for the world. When it sings its song it will deliver us from evil. The enemy will be no more.’
‘It is a beautiful building,’ said Yasha. ‘It will stand for eternity.’
‘No,’ said Anu. ‘It will stand for less than a year. The Music I have made is very powerful. Once begun it will eat away at the blocks, turning them to dust. The winds will scatter that dust over the earth. Nothing will be left.’
‘Why, Holy One?’ asked Yasha, appalled.
‘We sit upon a vast and wondrous source of power, Yasha. And as with all power it can be used for good or evil. If I had left it standing there would have come a man – or a woman – who could reshape the Music.’ He smiled sadly. ‘As it is there will be many attempts in the centuries to come to duplicate what we have achieved here. Perhaps one will succeed. I am not so arrogant as to believe I am the only man who will ever be blessed by the Source.’ He patted Yasha’s arm. ‘Now, time is slowing down, Yasha, and there are matters we must discuss. There are few Avatars left in the cities and control has passed to a Vagar council. With the terrible destruction they have suffered they will not feel inclined to honour an Avatar promise. Especially one that would empty the Treasury. The workers will arrive back in the city to discover there is no payment for them. My man, Shevan, is telling them this even as we speak. He is also telling them that you will see to their payments. That you will honour my promise.’
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