ECHOES OF THE GREAT SONG by David A. Gemmell

‘That is not true!’ stormed Talaban.

‘There you go with the truth again. What is it you mean? That Niclin does not see it as true, or that you do not see it as true?’ He held up his hand as Talaban tried to answer. ‘It does not matter. What they observe is a man who eschews the look of an Avatar. Where is the blue in his hair? Why does he not want to look like one of us? Is he ashamed? Or is it that he knows he is a Vagar? Are the stories about his mother true? And here we come to the word “truth” again. Well let me tell you, I am sick of other men’s truth!

‘Do not misunderstand me, Talaban. I value you highly, which is why I support you, but you must realize that we are a race under siege. We live with the constant threat of extinction. Such a situation breeds paranoia.’

‘You are right,’ said Talaban softly. ‘I do despise what we have become. Once we ruled the world. Now we are parasites, sucking the blood from the Vagars. We contribute little.’

Rael laughed aloud. ‘I might argue that we contribute greatly to the stability of the region. We are the enemy. We give them reason to unite. Without us there would be constant tribal wars and great devastation. All the while they look to us with hatred the general peace is maintained.’

Talaban smiled. ‘You say you might argue that. I take it you do not believe it.’

‘I tell no one what I believe,’ said Rael. ‘I am the Questor General. Do you know why Ro supported you?’

‘No. It was a surprise.’

‘It should not have been. He supported you because Niclin called for the deaths of your crew. Ro hates Niclin. It is that simple. I know you struck Ro, because he came to me, calling for your crew to be crystal-drawn. I asked him to wait until the meeting to raise it, and then made sure that Niclin was apprised of the incident. Had Ro called for your crew to be killed, Niclin would have opposed it.’

‘I thank you,’ said Talaban. ‘Once more I am in your debt.’

‘You are an intelligent man, Talaban, but you are cursed – or perhaps blessed – with a romantic turn of mind. You see absolutes where there is only shifting sand. In many ways you are like the Pajists. They see us as tyrants and believe that the world would be better, and more just, if we were overthrown. What they do not realize is that the world is created for tyrants. It always has been. You were a student of history. Can you tell me of a time where there were no rulers? No law-makers?’ Rael moved to the far table and poured himself a goblet of watered wine. ‘Society,’ he said, ‘is like a pyramid. The poor make up the base, and slowly the whole building narrows until a single stone is placed at the top. The king, the emperor, the god. It can be no other way.’

‘I am not convinced of that,’ said Talaban.

Rael chuckled. ‘Of course you are not. You are a romantic. Well, let us deal with history again. Three thousand years ago, when the empire was very young and a rigid class system was in place there were several revolutions. The most interesting – for the sake of this argument – was the third, when the people killed the king. An assembly of senators was created with no overall leader.’

‘It could have been a golden age,’ said Talaban. ‘Fairer laws were passed. Universities were created.’

‘Indeed they were. But within ten years there was a king again.’

‘Not so, surely. Perjak took the title First Senator,’ objected Talaban.

‘Who cares what he called himself? He might have taken the title Fourth-sheep-from-the left. The title was immaterial. He had absolute power and he ruled like a king. His enemies were put to death. The poor remained poor, the rich got richer. What I am saying is that Man requires leadership. We are like the wolves, the elk, the deer, the tuskers. Always there is a leader of the herd. At this time in history the leader is the Avatar race. One day it will be another race. It may be unjust, but it is natural.’ Rael poured Talaban a goblet of wine and handed it to him. ‘But these political matters are not what concerns me most about you, Talaban.