From beyond the huts he could hear the faint music created by the flute of Questor Anu, the Holy One. It was lilting and strangely beautiful, bringing to all who heard it a sense of peace and calm.
According to Yasha’s calculations they were almost halfway through the twenty-day night. He had worked twelve shifts in the constant darkness and eaten twelve meals. He smiled. And he had rutted with eight whores.
‘Why do you smile, my big man?’ she asked him. ‘Did I please you?’
‘You always please me,’ he said, twisting his head to kiss her brow.
‘You are the only one who kisses me,’ she told him. The music of the flute drifted into the distance. He has moved behind the structure, thought Yasha. So far the work was still behind schedule, but they had raised six courses of stone in a series of gradually decreasing squares. What was baffling to Yasha was why the interior had so many channels and tunnels built into the design. It was not as if anyone was going to live inside the pyramid. As if reading his thoughts the woman raised herself up on her elbow.
‘What is it for?’ she asked him.
‘What is what for?’
‘This … big building?’
‘It is for the Avatars,’ he said. ‘Every thirty years or so they seem to want to create some lasting monument. My father worked on the pyramid we are tearing down. There’s no sense to it. Some of the lads were excited about the prospect of seeing what was inside it. There wasn’t anything. No gold, no treasure, no bodies. Nothing. Just empty. Crazy, isn’t it?’
He sat up and swung his long legs over the side of the bed. Reaching for the wine jug he lifted it to his lips, drank deeply, then wiped the moisture from his thick, dark beard. The flute sounded closer again.
‘It must be for something,’ said the woman. ‘Why else would the Holy One himself be here?’
This was a question that haunted Yasha. He did not object to the vanities of the Avatar, nor even care much that they ruled the five cities. Someone had to rule, and as long as Yasha had employment and wages enough to buy food and whores he was content. But his curiosity was aroused by the Holy One and his magic. When he played the flute heavy rocks became light, perhaps a twentieth of their weight, and four men could manoeuvre huge blocks into place. For the first few days this had caused much excitement and unease in the workers. Now they were used to it.
Yasha heaved himself upright and pulled on his leggings and shirt.
‘What was it like being a king?’ she asked him. He laughed aloud.
‘I wasn’t a king,’ he said. ‘It was merely an amusing interlude to mark the first course being completed.’
‘But you were carried on the shoulders of the men and you wore a laurel crown. And even the Holy One bowed as you passed him. Did it feel very fine?’ Yasha thought about the question as he pulled on his heavy shoes.
‘It felt good,’ he admitted. ‘But not half as good as a roll with you.’
‘Do you mean that? Do you really?’
‘Of course.’
‘Will you come back after your next shift?’
‘How could any man stay away from you… dearheart?’ he concluded, having forgotten her name.
Leaning over, he kissed her once more then, leaving the clay payment tablet on the small table beside the bed, he stepped out into the night and strolled across to the infant pyramid. Questor Anu was striding along the top of the sixth course still playing his flute. Yasha watched him for a while and, when the Holy One had ceased playing, he waved to him. Anu waved back, then climbed down to stand alongside the huge foreman.
‘We are doing well,’ said Anu. ‘But we need to work faster yet.’
‘It will come, Questor. Already the skills of the workers are increasing.’
Anu smiled and turned away.
Tell me, Lord, why do you play music for the blocks when they are already in place?’ he asked. Anu paused, then swung back to face the Vagar. In the bright constant moonlight his blue hair shone like polished silver.