“That’s not the way Kazak served them.”
“And they didn’t respect him as they respect you. Don’t you realise — you’re the first human being who seems to have got the better of the spiders? You’ve become one of their heroes, like Ivar the Strong and Vaken the Wise. What else do you expect?”
“It was the goddess who got the better of the spiders, not me.”
“But the goddess couldn’t have done it without your help.” He laid down his fork and spoke with emphasis. “What’s happened in the past few weeks is a kind of miracle. I can hardly believe it myself. When Bildo told me you wanted to free men from the spiders, I thought: poor young chap, he’s got to come to terms with reality. And now you’ve actually done it. It’s just like one of those legends. You’ve got to be willing to take the credit.”
Niall said: “I wanted men to be free — as we were free in the desert — not to beat their foreheads on the ground every time I go past.”
Simeon sighed. “Men don’t want too much freedom — it makes them feel confused. You can’t give them more than they want. Look what’s happened in our city. The beetles have told us we’re all free, and we can go anywhere we want and do anything we like. And not a single person has taken advantage of it — including me. It takes time for men to get used to freedom.”
“Do you think they’ll ever get used to it?”
“Oh yes, provided they’re given it in small doses.” He peered sympathetically at Niall. “I thought you hadn’t been looking too well lately. Is something the matter?”
Niall thought about it, then laughed. “I suppose I just don’t like being the ruler, that’s all.”
Simeon buttered a chunk of bread. “What would you rather do instead?”
“Well, to begin with, I’d like to spend more time in the white tower. I’ve only been in there twice in the past six weeks, and that was to ask Steeg’s advice. I’d like to spend days in there — yes, even months or years — just learning about the past. That’s far more interesting than getting the sewers repaired or talking about the housing shortage. It’s the most fascinating place in the world — I’ll take you there when we get back. But I never have time to use it.”
“There’s nothing to stop you spending a couple of hours a day in there.”
“I don’t seem to find the time. But that’s not all. I just want to have time to think my own thoughts. I’m enjoying this trip because I’m not surrounded by people. I want time to learn to use my own mind. You’re right about men not knowing how to use their freedom. But that’s because they don’t know how to use their own minds. When they’re free, they get bored and look around for something to do. And just as I’m beginning to learn to use my mind, I have to spend most of the day in Council meetings.”
Simeon nodded slowly. “Well, I could think of various solutions. If you don’t want to be the ruler, you could resign and move to our city. Or you could train a deputy to do the boring jobs. Or you could marry Merlew and leave it all to her. She’s just like her father — she loves giving orders.”
Niall laughed. “That’s why I don’t think I’ll marry her.”
They were interrupted by Manetho, who came into the cabin with the pretty overseer; Veig was immediately behind them. The subject was tacitly dropped. But as Niall went on deck half an hour later, he was feeling strangely light-hearted; talking to Simeon had made him more conscious of the problem, and therefore brought the solution one step closer.
In less than two hours, the mountains of North Khaybad seemed to rise up out of the sea. Half an hour later, they were close enough for him to be able to recognise the pass between sandstone cliffs from which he had caught his first glimpse of the sea; his heart contracted with a mixture of delight and sadness. It was like returning to the world of childhood. Somehow, it seemed appropriate that the golden sunlight had the mellow tinge of autumn.
By mid-afternoon they were securely anchored in the bay. As he was rowed ashore, with the pretty overseer at the oars, Niall found himself wondering why returning to familiar places brings a curious sense of exaltation. Then he saw the answer: because it makes us feel that we are the masters of time, not its victims.
Since there were still several hours of daylight, they decided to begin their inland march immediately. Six men bore the empty coffin that had been made by the finest carpenter in the city of the beetles; it had been enveloped in sackcloth to protect it from scratches, and was carried on a litter. Six more sailors, armed with spears and bows and arrows, came along as guards. Half a dozen porters carried food supplies. Niall, Simeon, Veig and Manetho made up the rest of the party. Veig stood looking with regret as the pretty overseer returned to the longboat. Niall was unable to understand the attraction. He could see that the girl was physically desirable, but when he tuned in to her mind he found it full of boring commonplaces, and completely incapable of any kind of sustained thought. Veig knew this too, but didn’t seem to mind.
For the next four hours they marched across the fertile coastal plain towards the mountains. Wasps and dragonflies buzzed past them, and grasshoppers chirped in the undergrowth. Niall remembered how, a few months ago, this place had struck him as a paradise; now, compared to the green, leafy countryside around the spider city, it seemed barren and unwelcoming. Yet the warm air brought back memories of Hrolf and Thorg and of his father, and he was haunted by a troubled sense of loss.
When they halted, an hour before dusk, the mountains rose up in front of them. This was close to the spot where Niall had been captured by the wolf spiders. His dinner that night, he recalled, had been dried rodent flesh and stale bread, washed down with coconut milk. Now they dined off roast fish — caught by the sailors in their passage across the sea — fresh bread, goat’s cheese and green vegetables, and washed it down with mead that had been kept cool in a pannier stuffed with straw. But although it was delightful to drowse by the campfire, and listen to the sailors as they sang sentimental ballads about Shenandoah and the Rio Grande, he was too tired to indulge in self-congratulation, and fell asleep long before the sailors had exhausted their repertoire.
They were awake two hours before dawn, and began their march while the stars were still in the sky. This was the hardest part of the journey — the ten miles or so to the top of the pass — and they wanted to accomplish it before the sun made the climb intolerable. Dawn rose as they reached the foot of the final steep slope. Although the sailors were men of magnificent physique, and all were in excellent physical condition, they were beginning to show signs of fatigue. Niall glanced at Manetho, who was also breathing heavily.
“Don’t you think we ought to give them a break?”
Manetho said cheerfully: “That’s up to you. You’re the chief.”
It suddenly dawned on Niall that they regarded him as the leader of this expedition, and as the man who gave the orders. He found himself blushing as he said: “In that case, I think we’ll stop for breakfast.” Manetho shouted the order, and they sat down at the side of the road to refresh themselves with coconut milk and bread and cheese. And Niall reflected with amusement that, even after two months, he had failed to accustom himself to the idea that he was “the chief.”
Between the great sandstone cliffs of the pass, they paused again to enjoy the sea breeze that was funnelled between its walls. Now they could look down on the desert landscape in which Niall and Veig had spent most of their lives, and — in this clear air — even catch the distant gleam of the inland sea called Thellam. Niall turned to Veig.
“It’s a pity we didn’t bring Massig with us. He would have enjoyed looking down on his homeland, even from this distance.”
Veig shook his head and laughed. “Oh no he wouldn’t. I asked him if he’d like to return, and he said he hoped he’d never see the horrible place again. Most of the others feel the same. Even under the spiders, they were happier than when they were living underground.”
Niall shook his head sadly; for him, there was a poignant magic in the sight of the plateau and the glint of the great salt lake; they brought memories of unalloyed happiness: of his first taste of real freedom.