Echoes of the Great Song Read Online Free PDF

tribesman.
    Looping his medicine bag over his neck he tucked it into his shirt, and stretched out upon the rug. Touchstone did not like beds. Soft pillows made his neck ache.
    He lay upon the floor, arms folded across his chest, and pictured again the wild hills and the hunts, sawonce more the glorious day of his marriage, and recalled with ever-increasing fondness the first night with Suryet.
    Two months later the Blue-hairs had landed in the Sacred Cove. Touchstone had been among the war band who fought them. They would have won, but for a black-haired warrior carrying two swords. His speed was terrifying, and he had stood his ground as others fled. As his comrades died around him Touchstone had hurled himself upon the warrior, seeking to bury his axe in the man’s skull. Someone had struck him upon the head, and he awoke to find himself locked in an iron cage deep in the bowels of this ship.
    The journey had been long, and Touchstone had been taken to a city of stone where, day after day, Blue-hairs had come to him, struggling to teach him their language. Months had passed. And he had learned. He had learned their language, and much more. He had learned to hate them.
    They asked him many questions about his people, and whether gods walked among them. He answered them with lies and half-truths, until the bright day when he had been allowed to walk in the gardens. He had surprised them then, sprinting away and leaping to grab the low branch of a tall tree. Swinging up he had scaled the trunk and leapt the wall. Landing heavily, he twisted his ankle. Yet still he had escaped into the twisting alleyways around the castle.
    Weaponless and injured he had sought a path to the sea, intending to steal a boat. He made it to the dock, and stood staring at the ships moored there. There were no small boats, no canoes. His heart sank.
    A figure moved out of the shadows and he found himself facing the same warrior who had killed his friends. Touchstone tensed, ready to attack.
    “I understand you have learned much,” said the man.
    “I make you dead,” said Touchstone.
    “Perhaps. But not without a weapon, and certainly not with an injured leg. Sit down on the wharf and I shall heal it for you.”
    There was nowhere to run, and with his swollen ankle Touchstone could not have escaped the man. He did as he was bid and sat down. The warrior knelt over him, then took a green crystal from his pouch, holding it to the injured limb. Instantly the pain began to subside. After several minutes the warrior rose. “Try standing on it,” he said. Warily Touchstone did so. All pain had vanished. “Come, let us eat and talk,” said the warrior, turning away from the tribesman and walking towards a dockside inn.
    Touchstone had followed him. He still did not know why.
    Inside the inn the warrior, Talaban, had ordered a meal of good red meat. Touchstone ate it.
    “One day,” said Talaban, “I shall return to the west. If you desire it I shall take you with me.”
    “Wife is there,” said Touchstone. “Must return.”
    “There is a war coming, and no ships are making that journey now. But when they do you shall travel with them. This I promise.”
    “How long?”
    “A year. Perhaps two.”
    “I steal small boat. Go myself.”
    “With good winds it will take you three months.”
    “It is so far?” Touchstone was appalled.
    “Indeed it is. Added to which the western lands are immense. If a ship took you to the northern coast you could walk south for a year and still not reach your lands. That is if the ice did not kill you. Much of the world is covered by ice now.”
    “I think I steal boat,” said Touchstone.
    “May the Great God watch over you,” said Talaban. Rising from the table he paid for the meal and walked away.
    Touchstone had found a small boat. There was no paddle, but he soon mastered the long oars and began to row himself out to sea. Better to die attempting to reach Suryet than to live as a prisoner of the