Ryll stood on the brink, staring down into the churning water. His skin had turned completely grey. The Well surged again and another wave began to form, as big as the last, if not bigger.
‘It’s time,’ said Malien. ‘If there’s enough left in the field to lift us.’
As they ran to the thapter, the last surviving lyrinx were passing through the gate. All but one. Ryll was still gazing at the water.
‘Ryll, you must come!’ screamed Liett. ‘You are the last.’
‘The last.’ He teetered on the brink and it looked as though he was going to jump, to join all those thousands who had suffered the most terrible death of all.
Tiaan walked backwards to the thapter, ignoring Nish and Irisis, who were screaming at her. She felt for the ladder and began to climb.
Liett ran out to Ryll. ‘Come on!’ she screamed in his face.
The thapter came to life, whining gently. The wave was swelling, growing enormously, and it would sweep the top of Nithmak clean. Tiaan found herself caught around the waist and lifted bodily.
It was Irisis and she carried Tiaan all the way. Tiaan hung onto the hatch as the thapter lifted, shuddering violently.
‘Who am I to go,’ said Ryll to Liett, ‘when so many more worthy have lost their lives to the waters? You should have been matriarch, Liett. I resign. I am not legitimate. I am unmated male.’
As he raised one foot to step over the side, Liett swung her fist in a roundhouse blow to the chin that knocked Ryll unconscious onto his back.
‘On Tallallame I will be matriarch,’ she said imperiously. ‘And I choose you, weak and worthless though you are. You are now Hy-Ryll, mated male.’
Irisis chuckled. Tiaan had to resist the urge to clap.
Seizing Ryll under the arms, Liett dragged him across the rocks and into the gate. ‘Farewell,’ she said, and passed beyond.
The Well swelled again. Malien pushed the controller and the thapter moved sluggishly off the far side of the peak. ‘Close the gate, Tiaan.’
Tiaan brought up her mental image of the tesseract, withdrew the port-all, took out the image of the amplimet and closed the box. The gate vanished as the Well roared up and over the peak and the sea followed it. When they looked back there was nothing but the boiling sea and the funnel hanging there, and the red spheres bobbing in the foam. The tower had gone.
‘Where are we going?’ said Malien.
‘Where can we go?’ said Nish, wanting to run to the ends of the earth.
‘To Ashmode,’ said Gilhaelith. ‘That’s where everyone else has gone. It’s as good a place as any to watch the Sea of Perion fill again.’
‘Well,’ said Irisis, ‘I’m not running away. I’m proud of what we’ve done. Let’s go and face up to it.’
SEVENTY-EIGHT
Nish looked over the side, dreading the coming confrontation. He couldn’t be as sanguine as Irisis, nor as philosophical. Even if Flydd accepted that theirs had been the best solution, his opponents would not forgive it. And Flydd’s opponents now greatly outnumbered his friends, assuming he’d survived at all. Gilhaelith, Irisis, Tiaan and he, Nish, could well be executed for treason, though Malien would undoubtedly be spared.
Ashmode, from above, was a beautiful, spacious town built entirely of the local blue-white marble. Its streets were broad and lined with palms or enormous twisting fig trees whose canopies shaded the width of the street. Its fields, orchards and vineyards, grown on the fertile, moist slopes below the cliffs, made a ribbon of green from the air, marking the boundary between the brown drylands of Carendor and the glittering whiteness of the Dry Sea. Soon they would disappear under the rising sea.
It was a lovely sunny day as they passed across the town square looking for a place to set down. It was warm, with just the gentlest breeze. A perfect autumn day to be tried for treason.
‘There seem to be an awful lot of people down there,’ said Tiaan.
‘The war’s over, remember?’ said Irisis. ‘The celebrations will go on until the drink runs out.’
‘I hope it hasn’t run out yet,’ said Nish.
‘They won’t be giving it to condemned prisoners,’ said Irisis. ‘Sorry,’ she muttered as Nish blanched. ‘At times like this, I find it helps to joke.’
‘I don’t.’
The crowd moved back to form a staring circle as the thapter came in.
‘There’s Flydd,’ said Tiaan. ‘He’s alive, at least. And Troist. And they don’t look happy,’ she added in a low voice.
Scrutator Flydd was standing at the front, with Troist. Nish didn’t know whether to be relieved or not. The knot in his stomach tightened. Yggur and a pale-faced Klarm stood some distance away. Both had their arms folded against their chests.
Tiaan climbed down onto the paving stones. The others followed, standing on either side of her. There was an awkward silence.
‘You bloody fools!’ the scrutator said furiously. ‘What gives you the right to overturn decisions voted on by the mighty after days of considered debate? You ought to be fried in your own tallow, and had it been up to General Orgestre you would have been. It’s lucky he’s not here or I wouldn’t be able to restrain him.’
‘Where is Orgestre?’ said Nish in a small voice.
Flydd’s eyes fixed on him and Nish squirmed. ‘He had an apoplexy when he heard that you’d freed the lyrinx. It burst the vessels in his brain. He’ll never walk or talk again.’
‘A medal-winning performance at last,’ said Irisis, almost inaudibly.
Nish wanted to laugh but he couldn’t.
‘Troist has taken Orgestre’s position, for the moment,’ Flydd went on. ‘Troist?’
Nish met Troist’s eyes, remembering that the general was, nominally at least, still his commanding officer.
‘I’m bitterly disappointed in you, Nish,’ said Troist. ‘I thought I knew you. Do you realise that I could have you whipped and executed for treason?’
‘Yes, surr,’ said Nish.
‘You’ll have to stand in line to flog the little sod,’ said Flydd. ‘He was my man before he was yours. What the blazes were you thinking, Nish?’
‘We did what we thought was right,’ said Tiaan softly.
Flydd’s head whipped around. ‘Oh, did you? Since when are you running the world?’
‘Since the scrutators failed at it,’ said Gilhaelith over her shoulder.
‘I thought you were dying?’ Flydd said sourly.
‘I’m taking it slowly, just to annoy you.’
‘You’ve succeeded. I –’
‘If you’re going to execute them,’ Klarm interjected, ‘can you bloody well get on with it. The war’s over and I need a drink.’
‘I’m with you, Klarm,’ said Yggur. ‘We’ve got what we wanted. Let’s go and burst a barrel or two.’
Klarm could scarcely contain his astonishment. ‘You’re agreeing with me?’
‘Don’t let it go to your head. I’m not planning to make a habit of it.’ Yggur grinned and extended his hand.
Klarm let out a great roar that made heads turn curiously on the other side of the square, and he jerked Yggur’s hand up and down in both of his. ‘It’ll be a pleasure drinking with you, surr.’
Flydd couldn’t maintain his furious face any longer. He chuckled. ‘Damn the pair of you – you’ve cut my feet out from under me. Well, my friends, I can’t condone the way you went about it, but it was the best solution in the end. We’ve got our world back, the lyrinx have their own, and our future Histories aren’t stained by genocide. Let’s celebrate.’
Nish fell in beside Flydd as they walked. ‘What did you mean, surr, when you said that General Troist was commander “for the moment”?’
‘You might have expected that the governors would be grateful for what we’ve done.’