Echoes of the Great Song by David Gemmell Page A

seared them. The chest fell to the deck, landing on one side. The burning man had made no sound, and his blackened body fell across the chest. The smell of burning flesh hung in the air, and the other sailors stood by, horrified. Questor Ro was furious. Taking a rope he looped it over the corpse, dragging it clear of the chest.
    The Vagar team clambered aboard. They too stood in stunned silence, staring down at the body. Flames still flickered and his clothing was smouldering. “Move yourselves!” roared Questor Ro. The Vagars, their fingers once more protected by the wooden thimbles, righted the chest. Questor Ro replaced the poles and ordered the men to carry it to the rear of the ship. Here heexamined the chest for any cracks or breaks. Finding none he watched as the Vagars placed it inside a larger chest lined with lead. This was then carried below to the store room.
    Two blood-smeared tusks had been laid here, which brought a new flicker of annoyance to Questor Ro. This was also his workroom, and he was less than pleased to find them here. Most especially since they had been unceremoniously dumped upon his desk and blood had smeared upon several of his papers. “Remove them,” he ordered two of the Vagars. “Put them in a corner somewhere. And clean the blood from them,” he added.
    “Yes, lord,” said one of them, bowing deeply.
    “And send for Onquer,” he said. “We have work to do.”
    “Lord,” said the man, bowing low, “I regret to tell you that Onquer died. He was dead before we reached the ship.”
    This was really too much. Questor Ro had spent eight years training the Vagar. Now he would have to find another assistant and waste valuable time initiating him in the rigors of research.
    He said nothing more to the Vagars and made his way to his cabin.
    Two chests were full, a third was in place. All in all, it had not been a bad day.

Chapter Five
    The Frost Giant’s mouth was open. Storro climbed between the white gates of its teeth, and found the magic fang. Casting a great spell he began to draw its power. The Beast stirred, but did not yet wake. It did not need to, for the terrible demons who dwelt upon it sensed the theft, and began to climb through its fur towards the thieves
.
    From the
Morning Song of the Anajo
    The coal oil lantern flickered, its light casting deep shadows upon the walls of the windowless Heart Room deep in the belly of the
Serpent
. Talaban watched the four Vagars carefully lower the chest into the carved recess at the center of the room. Once they had done so he dismissed them. As the door closed behind them Talaban moved to a panel beside the recess, which he slid open. Within were two small bronze wheels. He slowly turned the first. Two copper cups inside the recess inched towards the bronze spheres at the front of the chest. Talaban spun the wheel until the cups covered the spheres. The warrior could feel his excitement rising as his hands moved to the second wheel. This he turned two full circles. At the rear of the panel was a second, hidden recess. Talaban opened it. A long sheet of shiningmica met his gaze. There were six deep indentations in the mica and in one a solitary white crystal glowed. Talaban opened the pouch at his side and from it took five more crystals, which he laid in the remaining indentations. Sliding closed the lid, Talaban took a deep breath—and gave a final turn to the second bronze wheel.
    Instantly light flared from the two crystal globes set into the wall. Talaban’s spirits soared. Blowing out the lantern he stepped into the corridor beyond, locking the door behind him. All along the corridor there was clean, bright light. Climbing the circular stair to the central deck Talaban leaned over the port rail.
Serpent Seven
was no longer bobbing in the bay. She sat, calm and proud, free of the pull of the sea.
    Climbing to the upper deck he saw his sergeant, Methras, and a group of soldiers sitting by the port rail, staring up at the lights