Echoes of the Great Song Read Free Page A

Melting ice floes still clung to the shores of the bay and a cool breeze whispered across the decks. The longboat secured, his men on board, Talaban turned towards his cabin door. The sunlight was almost gone, the clouds shining red and gold above the western mountains. Talaban paused to watch the last of the sunset.
    Suddenly the winds rose, a storm arriving from nowhere. Distant trees were bent by its force, and the clouds began scudding across the sky. The ship lurched. Talaban was thrown against the cabin door. A bright light washed over the Serpent. Talaban turned - and saw the sun rising again. He stood, lost in the wonder of the moment. From all over the ship came the sound of shouting, as men called for their friends to come and see the phenomenon. Then Talaban remembered the words of Anu. The sun will rise in the west, the seas will tip from their bowls, and not one stone will be left upon another.
    Shading his eyes he stared into the west. The area they were mapping was a narrow strip of land, some 20
    miles wide. On the other side of the mountains lay the ocean. A huge dark mass, like bunching storm clouds, reared up over the mountains.
    ... the seas will tip from their bowls.
    The mountains were almost two miles high. The tidal wave beyond them was half as high again. And it was roaring towards the bay.
    For the first time in his life Talaban felt the onset of fear-induced panic. It rooted him to the spot, and he stared horrified at the immense wave darkening the sky. For a dozen heartbeats he stood still. Death was coming, and he felt powerless to oppose its immensity. On the deck below him a man screamed in fear, and fell to his knees, covering his head with his hands. The man's terror touched Talaban like a cool wind. Forcing down his own panic he sprinted for the control deck and entered the inner sanctum. Swiftly he placed the power crystals into the black panels and spun the wheel. The black ship swung and sped out to sea. Her power chest fully charged, Serpent Seven was almost a mile from shore when Talaban swung her again, pointing her toward the towering wall of water bearing down upon her. At the last moment he turned her again, making an oblique angle.
    The colossal wave struck the ship, lifting the Serpent higher and higher, like a spear towards the sky, until it seemed the ship would be hurled through the clouds. Ferocious winds tore at the vessel, and several men who had remained on deck were sent hurtling to their deaths.
    Still the ship climbed, Talaban urging every last vestige of power from the chest which lay at the heart of the Serpent. The ship slowed and began to topple. Talaban clung to the control panel and glanced through the port window. It was a dizzying sight. Miles below him he could see islands about to be swamped. If the ship capsized it would fall back down the wave and be buried beneath the roaring ocean mountain. Twisting the wheel once more he struggled to straighten the Serpent.
    A crystal on the panel cracked. Another shattered.
    And then the ship righted itself, and was sailing serenely behind the great wave.
    The world he knew was gone - and he had survived.

    As Touchstone entered the cabin Talaban opened his eyes. The tribesman gave a half-hearted salute then slumped down into a second padded chair alongside the desk. He was a short stocky man, round-shouldered and thick-necked. His greasy black hair hung in two braids, and, despite his two years as Talaban's scout, he refused to apply for Vagar citizenship and still wore his black tribal vest decorated with fingers of bone. He glanced up at Talaban, his green eyes shining with mischievous humour. 'Them's running around like snow rabbits,' he said, 'digging into the ice. You think they find what they look for this time?'
    Talaban shrugged. 'They will or they won't.' 'Buy a big house, farm maybe, with all that gold,' said Touchstone. 'Big waste.'
    Talaban found it hard to disagree. Driving gold rods into the ice was an