The Evolutionary Void Part 34

"We need to identify the island," Natran replied. "There are eight on the edge of the eastern archipelago. Once I've got an accurate fix, navigating home will be easy."

"Of course."

"Are you ready for home?" Kristabel asked quietly.

"I think so," he said, though he knew it to be true. It's all new from now on It's all new from now on. Living in Makkathran again would be easy. Antic.i.p.ation stirred a joy in him that had been missing for so long. He guessed she knew that, judging by the contentment glowing within her own thoughts.

"We could always go the other way around the world," she teased. "There's both poles to explore."

Edeard laughed. "Let's leave that to the grandchildren, shall we? You and I have enough to do taking up our roles again. And I think I might just consider running for Mayor at the next elections."

The look she gave him was as if she'd never seen him before. "You never stop, do you?"

"Wonder who I learned that from, mistress?"

She grinned and cuddled Kiranan tight as the boy strained to see the city he knew was out there somewhere. "And you," she told the boy. "You're going to meet all your cousins."

"Yay-oh," Kiranan cooed.

"Who probably make up half the city's population by now," Edeard muttered. The rate at which Rolar and Wenalee produced offspring was prodigious, and he knew from the last time around that Marakas and Heliana were keen to get started.

"Daddy!" the twins chorused in disapproval.

"I wonder if Dylorn will be wed," Kristabel said softly; there was a brief pang of regret-swiftly banished-at being parted from her children for so long.

"Without us there?" a.n.a.lee sounded shocked.

"He wouldn't dare."

"You two did," Edeard pointed out.

"That's different."

"We had you there."

"Which makes it proper."

Edeard sighed and grinned at the horizon. "Not long now. And Lady, we're going to have the reunion party of all time."

Makkathran appeared over the horizon just before noon on the thirty-eighth day after Manel had sighted the first eastern isle. The crew of the Lady's Light Lady's Light knew it was near. Cargo ships had been a regular sighting for days, and early that morning they'd pa.s.sed the outbound fishing fleet from Portheves, a village not ten miles from the city itself. Once they'd recovered from their shock, the fishermen had stood and cheered as the giant boats of the flotilla slid past. knew it was near. Cargo ships had been a regular sighting for days, and early that morning they'd pa.s.sed the outbound fishing fleet from Portheves, a village not ten miles from the city itself. Once they'd recovered from their shock, the fishermen had stood and cheered as the giant boats of the flotilla slid past.

By midmorning, they had a loose escort of a dozen traders heading toward the coastline. Good-hearted, curious longshouts from their new companions were thrown their way as they plowed through the crisp blue water. Then Makkathran emerged, its st.u.r.dy towers the first aspect to rise up over the horizon, their sharp pinnacles piercing the cloudless azure sky. A fervent rush of farsight swept out from the city to wash across the flotilla, accompanied by astonishment and a burst of exultant welcomes. Everyone was up on deck to see the city they'd left behind just over four years ago. Edeard thought the ships would just fly onward through the water even without any wind, so strong was the compulsion to make it home now. They must have been quite a sight to those in the city. Each magnificent ship had set out with three full sets of snow-white sails; now the Lady's Light Lady's Light was rigged with a grubby patchwork of canvas st.i.tched together from whatever sails remained after years of sun bleaching, storms, and frozen winters in which ice crystals hung heavy from every seam and rope. Both the was rigged with a grubby patchwork of canvas st.i.tched together from whatever sails remained after years of sun bleaching, storms, and frozen winters in which ice crystals hung heavy from every seam and rope. Both the Lady's Star Lady's Star and the and the Lady's Guidance Lady's Guidance had broad repairs of a softer tropical wood on their waterline where the coral of the Auguste Sea had breached them despite the crew's best telekinetic efforts to snap the vicious submerged spines. Several ships had new masts to replace ones that were snapped off in various gales. had broad repairs of a softer tropical wood on their waterline where the coral of the Auguste Sea had breached them despite the crew's best telekinetic efforts to snap the vicious submerged spines. Several ships had new masts to replace ones that were snapped off in various gales.

But we made it despite everything this world threw at us. Edeard grinned at Makkathran as the wondrously familiar outline of his home grew clearer. You can see that, you can see our triumph in the patches and the damage and the cargo of knowledge we've returned with. We've opened up the whole world for everyone You can see that, you can see our triumph in the patches and the damage and the cargo of knowledge we've returned with. We've opened up the whole world for everyone.

Slowly, though, his grin began to fade as he took notice of the thoughts swirling among the vast districts. The city's mental timbre had changed. For a while he was puzzled by the flashes of anger shivering beneath the surface clamor of excitement at the flotilla's return. Then he gradually became aware of the minds grouped together outside the north gate, thousands of them. Among those bright knots of rage and resentment he could find no hint of excitement or jubilation at the flotilla's arrival. They were completely at odds with the rest of the city.

"Uh oh," he mumbled under his breath. His farsight reached out to see what in Honious was going on. The first thing he sensed was the militia, deployed around the gate and in long dugout formations along the road through the greensward into the encircling forest. By tradition, that area outside the city was always kept empty and uninhabited. Not anymore. Dozens of huge camps had sprung up on the meadowland, and from what he could determine, a lot of the ancient trees had been felled, presumably as fuel for the campfires.

"What is it?" Kristabel asked as he struggled to shield the dismay growing in his own mind.

"Some kind of siege, but that's not quite it." He grudgingly gifted her his farsight.

"Oh, Lady," she grumbled. "Where did they come from?"

He shrugged, trying to find some kind of clue. But such a feat was beyond farsight, especially at such a distance. "We'll find out soon enough. And then everyone will expect the Waterwalker to put it right." He couldn't help how martyred he sounded, not to mention self-pitying.

"Edeard." She gently rubbed the top of his back between his shoulder blades. "Why do you always punish yourself like this?"

"Because I'm the one who always has to sort everything out. Oh, Ladyc.r.a.pit, it just never stops. Every time I think I've got it right, someone comes along with a fresh way to foul things up."

"Darling Edeard, you're really far too hard on yourself."

"No, I'm not," he said bitterly. "It's my responsibility. I'm responsible for this whole world. Me. No one else."

"Don't be silly, Edeard." Kristabel's voice and mind hardened. "Now, please don't do this whole intolerable burden thing again; I had enough of it before. What's important now is to get the twins ash.o.r.e; they need to get to the mansion to give birth, poor things. Concentrate on that if you have to have something to moan about."

"Intolerable burden thing?" he asked quietly; he could barely believe what she'd just said.

"Yes," Kristabel said firmly, giving him an uncompromising look. "The Lady knows how impossible you'd become before we built the flotilla. That's the main reason I agreed the estate would pay for it all. And this voyage worked, Edeard. For the Lady's sake, you were back to normal. You were you again. Now this. We haven't even got ash.o.r.e yet, and already you're moaning that everything's going against you."

Ladyd.a.m.nit, you have no f.u.c.king idea! He glared at her furiously and stomped off down the deck. He glared at her furiously and stomped off down the deck.

"Daddy?" Jiska asked with a worried frown.

But he was in no mood to talk, not even to her.

Thousands were lining the quays and wharfs as the flotilla's longboats made it through the great waterside opening in the city walls into the Port district. There were fifteen boats in the first batch, all of them rowed by a regulation team of ge-chimps sculpted with broad shoulders and muscular arms, so the oars fairly whizzed through the water. Edeard was on the second boat; Kristabel and Taralee had taken the twins and Marvane ahead on the first. Edeard had a fast directed longtalk to an elated Rolar, making sure a couple of family gondolas were waiting in the port to take them straight back to the ziggurat. The twins were in a great deal of discomfort, in Edeard's belief a condition partly owing to their fixation on giving birth on land. Taralee had privately confirmed they weren't due for another couple of days yet, though they were complaining as if their labor had begun already.

He kept company with Jiska and Natran and Manel and a half dozen officers and their wives and children; it was a merry group, all of whom were waving frantically at the cheering crowds. Except him; he simply couldn't summon the enthusiasm and sat at the back of the longboat in a private sulk.

"By the Lady, we'd given up on you at least a couple of years back," Macsen's directed longtalk declared. "Did you walk around the world instead? It's taken you forever."

Finally, Edeard consented to a grin. There was his friend standing at the head of the very hastily a.s.sembled official welcoming committee of Grand Councillors, district representatives, officials, and family. A huge group of them squashed onto Wharf One, anxious that no one should move about too much lest those on the front rank topple into the sea. They'd dressed in their most colorful and expensive robes, though the strong sea breeze blew their hair and hems about in an undignified manor. Macsen and Dinlay were at the forefront, of course, waving wildly. Dinlay had one arm around a tall, powerfully built girl. Edeard didn't care that he didn't know her. It wasn't Gealee, which was all that truly mattered. His gaze switched to Macsen, who was by himself. The master of Sampalok had put on a disturbing amount of weight over the intervening years.

However, standing beside Macsen was Doblek, master of Drupe. It was he who wore the Mayor's robes.

That's different, Edeard mused. Before, it was Trahaval who was Mayor at this time. He tried to convince himself that was a good thing even though he remembered Doblek as a mildly inadequate district master who admired the old traditions. Not a reformer, by any means Not a reformer, by any means.

The longboat reached Wharf One. Once the dock handlers had secured them, Edeard made his way up the wooden steps to mounting roars of approval from the waiting crowds. It was an invigorating sound, sending the timid seabirds wheeling still higher above the Port district. Just like the banishment, but without the violence and turmoil Just like the banishment, but without the violence and turmoil.

Not too grudgingly, Edeard raised an appreciative hand and grinned back at everyone on the docks who was producing such an effusive greeting.

"Waterwalker!" Mayor Doblek opened both arms wide and stepped forward to embrace Edeard. "This is a joyful day. Welcome, yes, welcome back. Did you really voyage around the whole world?"

The city quieted slightly, hanging on to the Mayor's gifting, awaiting the answer.

"We did," Edeard announced solemnly, but he couldn't help the smile widening his lips.

The cheering began again.

Edeard disengaged himself from the Mayor's clutches, turning slightly. "Mayor, I think you know my senior captain, Natran. And my daughter Jiska."

"Of course." The Mayor moved along the line of arrivals, delighted with more official duty, keeping himself firmly at the forefront of public attention.

"It's crazy good, Granpa," little Kiranan said, clinging to Edeard's leg while his parents were swamped by the Mayor.

"What is?" Edeard asked.

"The city. Is this everyone in the whole world?"

Edeard hadn't thought of that. Kiranan had never known anyone other than the crews in the flotilla; now he was confronted by the city's jubilant population. Small wonder he was more subdued than usual. "Not even close," Edeard a.s.sured the boy. He pushed his farsight out to the smaller wharf on the other side of the port entrance, where Kristabel and the twins were transferring to the family gondolas. Rolar was embracing his mother, and a host of grandchildren were jumping about excitedly, threatening to capsize the glossy black boat. Burlal wasn't among them. Edeard was nonplussed by that. Instead of his young grandson, a little girl was cavorting around Rolar and Wenalee, maybe five months younger than the boy he was expecting to see. It wasn't something he'd considered, that with this world diverging from what had gone before, his own grandchildren might be different. He knew now he should have been prepared for it. For a start, he'd been blessed with Kiranan, as well as the twins' pregnancy, neither of which events had gone before. But he'd really loved little Burlal; the boy was such a gem. He gave the girl sharp scrutiny, which she responded to with a start; then she looked back at him across the water before burying herself in Wenalee's skirts.

"So who's this, then?" Dinlay asked.

Edeard's smile returned in a weaker form. No Burlal? No Burlal? Edeard was still thinking. Edeard was still thinking. Lady, but he didn't deserve oblivion like Tathal. That's not right, not right at all Lady, but he didn't deserve oblivion like Tathal. That's not right, not right at all. "This is my new grandson, Kiranan," he managed to say levelly as he ruffled the lad's hair.

"Granpa!" The boy twisted away. "You're Dinlay. You were shot once. Granpa has told me all about you."

"Has he, now? Well, you come and see me one day, and I'll tell you about him. Everything he thinks you shouldn't know."

"Really? Promise?" The boy looked up admiringly at his new friend.

"Promise on the Lady."

"Welcome home, Edeard," Macsen said, and took Edeard's hand warmly.

"So where's Kanseen?" Edeard asked.

Macsen's wide smile froze. "We called it a day," he said with what was an attempt to maintain a jovial att.i.tude. "Best for both of us."

"No! I'm ... sorry to hear that." Lady, you can't do this to me. They were still together before Lady, you can't do this to me. They were still together before.

"She said she'll see you later."

"Okay, then."

"And this is Hilitte," Dinlay said proudly, ushering the tall girl forward. "We've been wed these last seven months."

This bit was easy. Edeard had done this many many times, every time he had begun again. So yet again and as always he kept a composed face and smiled politely as he held out his hand to the robust girl. "Congratulations." No disapproval shown, no surprise at her youth (younger than Jiska, easily), no confusion at the somehow familiar features smiling coquettishly back at him.

Macsen moved behind him, his mouth brushing past Edeard's ear as if by chance. "Nanitte's daughter," he whispered.

Edeard coughed, hoping to Honious he was covering his shock.

"Thank you, Waterwalker," she said in a husky voice-yes, definitely similar to that of her mother. And that coquettish smile deepened, becoming coy, appraising.

Edeard quickly turned back to Macsen. "Lady, it's good to be back."

"So you really went the whole way around the world?" Dinlay asked.

"We certainly did. Ah, the stories I have to tell you."

"And?"

Edeard knew exactly what the question was. "There's only us. No one else."

Dinlay's disappointment was all the more prominent amid the rejoicing inflaming the city. "Ah, well," he sighed.

"What's going on outside the North Gate?" Edeard asked.

"Those b.a.s.t.a.r.ds-" Macsen began.

"Macsen," Dinlay said awkwardly. "The Waterwalker hasn't even seen his family yet after four years. We've held the peace for this long; we can wait a day more. Edeard, it's nothing to worry about. We have the situation under control."

Macsen gave a reluctant nod. "Of course. I'm sorry, old friend. This is wrong of me. There's so much I want to hear about."

"And by the Lady, you shall," Edeard promised.

It was several days before Edeard found the time to meet privately with his old friends. The first two days were spent happily enough greeting his family and getting to know the latest additions; then, for one day, he was banished to a lounge on the ninth floor of the ziggurat with the other senior males of the family, to feel worthless and faintly guilty while Taralee, two midwifes, several Novices, Kristabel, and even Marvane helped the twins give birth. For once they didn't synchronize perfectly; Marilee gave birth to her two daughters a good five hours before a.n.a.lee produced a son and a daughter. After that, of course, was the formal Culverit tradition of the arrival breakfast, where an overwhelmed Marvane sat in a daze receiving congratulations from his new family.

Lunchtime on the fourth day after the flotilla arrived back saw Edeard take a gondola down to Sampalok. He walked along Mislore Avenue to the square at the center of the district. Every building he pa.s.sed was occupied. No matter how small or awkward, every cl.u.s.ter of rooms had someone living there: bachelor, bachelorette, couple, small young family, stubborn old widower or widow. There was nothing left for any newcomer.

At the end of the avenue the six-sided mansion was a welcome sight. He always felt a mild satisfaction every time he saw it, something he'd created, something oddly rea.s.suring.

This time, the square around it had none of the makeshift camps of stopover visitors awaiting guidance. It was back to a pre-Skylord normality, with Sampalok residents strolling around the fountains while kids played football and hoop chase in the sunshine. Stalls on either side of Burfol Street were doing a good trade in sugared fruits and cool drinks.

People smiled graciously at the Waterwalker in his customary black cloak. Once there was a time when he would have welcomed such a greeting from the citizens of Sampalok; now he found it hard to return those smiles. But I'm being unfair. It's not just this district that's to blame But I'm being unfair. It's not just this district that's to blame.

He went into the mansion via the archway on the lavender-shaded wall and hurried up the stairs to the fifth floor, where Macsen had his private study. It was a simple room opening onto a balcony. Today the tall windows were shut. The desk was covered in leather folders, often with the ribbons untied to let the papers spill out; the tables were also piled high, as were various shelves and cabinets. Some of the chairs were also pedestals for the chaotic paperwork. It used to be an immaculately tidy room, Edeard reflected. As if reading his thoughts directly, Macsen gave a conciliatory grin as he got to his feet. "Before you ask: Yes, it has only got like this since she left."

Edeard eyed the food (or wine) stains down Macsen's shirt but said nothing. Some of the chairs already filled with paperwork had cloaks and robes draped over them. "Something that big will take a while to adjust to," he said diplomatically.

"Have you seen her?"

"No. Not yet. Kristabel visited her last night."

Macsen shook his head and sank back into the chair behind the desk. "She doesn't even live in Sampalok anymore."

"Do you want to tell me what happened?"

"Oh, Lady, no. She said I was losing my focus or drive or something; the usual rubbish women spout. You know what they're like. Nothing I did was ever right."

"Yeah, I know what they're like."

"What? Even Kristabel?" Macsen seemed pathetically eager for confirmation, to know he wasn't alone in his suffering.

"Especially Kristabel," Edeard a.s.sured him, wishing he was being completely dishonest. But ... Lady, she's changed since we got back. And it's all supposedly my fault But ... Lady, she's changed since we got back. And it's all supposedly my fault.