The Sunset Warrior - 01 Read Online Free PDF Page B

endeavour, in the future, not to tease you.’
    At that moment Tomand and Bessat arrived. They were seated amid a great uproar from the table, partly because it amused them to make a fuss over Tomand’s corpulence, partly because they felt they must ease the tension. Sehna was a time for relaxation, no matter what else was happening throughout the Freehold.
    Slowly the table settled down and the food was served. Noise increased and the heat became oppressive. ‘Chill take me,’ Nirren said, ‘why is it so hot in here?’
    Tomand stopped eating momentarily and, wiping his heavy, sweating jowls, gestured for him to lean forward. ‘Just between us,’ he glanced from Nirren to Ronin, ‘we are having problems with the ventilation system.’ He took another forkful of food. ‘In fact, that is why we were late to Sehna. We were working until the last moment, trying to figure out the cursed thing.’
    ‘With very little success, I notice,’ said Nirren.
    Tomand grimaced. ‘It is simply impossible. We have lost too much knowledge.’ He chewed, then continued. ‘The most we can do is to try to clean up the mess. I mean how are we supposed to fix something if we don’t know how it works? So little of what the Ancients wrote has survived. Only their Machines—’
    ‘No,’ interrupted G’fand, ‘we could not destroy their Machines without destroying ourselves.’
    Tomand paused with a forkful of food halfway to his greasy lips. ‘What are you saying?’
    ‘That the writings of the Ancients were deliberately destroyed in the early days of the Freehold.’
    Tomand shoved the fork into his mouth, and said around the food: ‘What nonsense. Who would wilfully destroy knowledge? Certainly not civilized folk.’
    G’fand said carefully: ‘The Ancients invented many things. A number of them were quite lethal. And they were inveterate graphologers. It appears that our forefathers had little faith in those who would come after them. In any event, they took no chances. They destroyed the written wisdom of the Ancients. Destroyed it indiscriminately, so that I, a Scholar, cannot learn their history, and you, a Neer, cannot understand the workings of the Air Machines, and the Saardin cannot learn how to destroy each other and the Freehold.’
    Tomand wiped his mouth.
    Nirren said: ‘How came you by this?’
    ‘A fanciful story, that is all it is,’ sniffed Tomand. ‘A speech to impress us. Everyone knows—’
    ‘What the Frost do you know anyway?’ G’fand flared. ‘You cannot even perform your job!’
    Tomand choked and began to cough. Bessat looked over in alarm as Telmiss thumped him on the back until the coughing subsided somewhat. His face was red and his eyes were tearing. ‘How—dare you!’ was all he could manage to get out.
    G’fand was rigid. ‘You fat slug! All you do is eat. You serve no useful function. All you Neers are alike, ineffectual and—’
    ‘Enough!’ Ronin said sharply. ‘I think you owe Tomand an apology.’ He knew it was the wrong approach as soon as he said it.
    G’fand turned on him, eyes blazing. ‘Who are you to tell me anything!’ His voice had risen, overtones of rage and hysteria combining. Cords stood out along his neck. He rose, his arms tense columns, fists tight clumps pressed whitely against the tabletop. ‘It is you who owe us an apology. You don’t care a bit about us’—his arm swung in a tight arc—‘ any of us. Your training keeps you above all that.’ He was spitting the words out, and Ronin could tell without looking that heads at adjoining tables were beginning to turn in their direction. But the myriad minute motions of the Great Hall had faded like a painting exposed to the rays of the sun. The hundreds of conversations and separate lives had ceased to exist.
    ‘G’fand—’ K’reen began, but he swept on without even noticing.
    ‘You’re special because the Salamander took you and trained you. For what? To sit here with the likes of us, without