The White City

Kandrigi lay on a couch, He knew this. But it was not important. Nor was it important that he was cold, or that his limbs trembled with shock and pain.

  All was silent, Kandrigi was grateful for this. The voice spoke to him occasionally, repeating only fragments of its original message.

  The silence was a void. Perhaps it was death.

  Lamla sat on a stool in his chamber. Behind him, the paintings on the walls reflected the light of many candles. The clutter of furniture stood out like islands in this sea of brilliant colour.

  Kandrigi lay on a couch in front of him. His feet were bandaged and his body coated with a soothing ointment. Lamla had sat for a long time watching over his old friend. Grief was like a spike in his heart. The wounds were terrible: deep scores crisscrossed his body and his feet had been gored and torn with the pincers. His left hand, too, was crushed and disfigured – but Hepteidon had preserved the right hand for communication.

  Lamla steeled himself and touched this right hand. He spoke on it, moving slowly over the fingers:

  ‘It is I, Lamla, your friend. The sight of your wounds moves me to deep pity.’

  Kandrigi waited until Lamla finished his speech before withdrawing his hand.

  Lamla sighed. Kandrigi was a stubborn man, Like Hepteidon, like all men, he refused to see that he resisted the inevitable. Tonight, both Kandrigi and Hepteidon would be forced to recognise this. He sighed again.

  He spoke on Kandrigi’s fingers again:

  ‘Believe me, Kandrigi, I speak to you as a friend. I did not approve of this torture, but I was powerless to stop it. This fact will not console you, I know. Nor does it console me.’

  Kandrigi pulled his hand away. Lamla stood up and produced his little bell from under his cloak. He rang it and the bald youth hurried across to him.

  ‘Have word sent to Ma-Tin and Hepteidon that they are to come to me immediately,’ he instructed him.

  The youth bowed low and hurried away. Lamla pulled his cloak tightly about him and began to pace up and down the room, his impassive face radiant with the reflected colour of the paintings. His mind struggled for detachment from what was about to happen. He took no pride in having found the solution to the problems of Kandrigi’s silence. Was it not ordained that he would? In such a mystery as this, could matters be otherwise? Hepteidon would understand this before the morning came. It is a truly divine twist to the whole mystery that the answer which Hepteidon might destroy himself in eliciting from Kandrigi is already known to me, he thought; yet I cannot reveal it, for I lack the authority. Lamla was forced to smile inwardly at the atrocious irony. He hoped Hepteidon would be wise and accept his fate; if he was not wise, he would assuredly be mad.

  Ma-Tin entered the room and at once his bright yellow cloak began to irradiate the reflected light. He walked quickly across to Lamla, his thin smile a slit of irritation. He bowed perfunctorily to his High Priest.

  ‘I am grateful to you for coming so quickly, Ma Tin,’ Lamla said slowly, his inward irony entering his voice.

  ‘It is my duty to obey you, my High Priest,’ Ma-Tin replied drily, not knowing why Lamla should show amusement.

  ‘How goes it with the heavens? Do the stars hold their places? ‘

  Ma-Tin cocked his brow. Lamla’s speech was beginning to puzzle him. However, he remained unmoved:

  ‘As they have moved throughout the past ages, so do they move this night, High Priest.’

  ‘That is good to hear. Tell me, Ma-Tin, will the stars always move in their correct courses?’

  Now Ma-Tin became uneasy. Some change had taken place, he told himself; but the stars do not change, therefore it is Lamla who has changed.

  ‘The heavens do not change, High Priest,’ he said slowly, his eyes narrowing watchfully, ‘And there is no reason for believing that they will.’

  Lamla pursed his lips in what might be a smile.

  ‘Tell me about the new star? Does it not change?’

  Ma-Tin paused before answering.

  ‘It changes, Lamla. But it obeys its own laws. Like the seven great bodies, its law is different from that of the stars.’

  ‘Is its law eternal, Ma-Tin?’ Lamla pressed with peculiar excitement. ‘We first observed it no more than three winters ago.’

  ‘Its law cannot be otherwise. I will admit that it is different, as I have said. We have traditions of earlier appearance of this star. It grows in brilliance and then fades again. Perhaps that is its cycle, as it is the cycle of other stars.’

  Lamla bowed. When he looked up again, his face was subdued.

  ‘You are our Astronomer, Ma-Tin. I respect your knowledge.’

  Ma-Tin inclined his head, feeling justifiably proud.

  ‘I am grateful for your respect, High Priest.’

  Lamla took his arm and led him to the couch on which Kandrigi lay.

  ‘I have brought you here so that you might act as witness to an event,’ he said deliberately. ‘You recognise Kandrigi, the priest of the Briga?’

  Ma-Tin had been staring at the supine figure with distaste.

  ‘Yes, I recognise him.’

  ‘Hepteidon is convinced that Kandrigi withholds a secret from the Empire. He has examined him on this point, but without success. You see that the examination was thorough.’

  Ma-Tin glanced at the bandaged limbs.

  ‘Did he speak?’

  ‘No. Hepteidon admitted surprise at the old priest’s fortitude.’ The irony had returned to his voice.

  ‘It must be a secret worth keeping, to have withstood such pain.’

  ‘Indeed, Ma-Tin. Tonight, however, Hepteidon will question Kandrigi again. I wish you to witness it.’

  They heard footsteps. Hepteidon walked purposefully towards them, Lamla clasped Ma-Tin’s arm.

  ‘Remain here, I wish to speak to Hepteidon alone.’

  He met Hepteidon in the centre of the room. The young priest was visibly impatient.

  ‘Why have you brought me here, Lamla? I told you I had much to do before I embark.’

  Lamla grasped his wrist and smiled tenderly.

  ‘There are various matters, Hepteidon,’ he said gently. ‘I am glad that you prepare for your mission with such eagerness. It is the way a man of affairs should act. Has the navigator been notified of his new duty?’

  Hepteidon was mollified by Lamla’s tenderness.

  ‘Yes, Lamla. Already he is aboard the naval ship.’

  ‘Did he accept the instructions willingly?’

  ‘He was intoxicated, but he appeared to welcome the change.’

  ‘Good. It is well that he will be useful. He has grown fat in the service of the Ka.’

  ‘Ma-Tin is here, Lamla, Has he brought the charts? Is that why you sent for me?’

  Lamla lowered his eyes. He did not want Hepteidon to see the sudden flush on his face. A strange excitement burned in his blood at the prospect of telling Hepteidon the reason he had been brought to him. Not since his youth had he experienced such a commotion within himself.

  ‘The charts will be sent to you tomorrow, Hepteidon, Do not fret on their behalf. You see also that Kandrigi is here.

  Hepteidon looked over at the couch and then bent slightly to peer at Lamla.

  ‘I see that, Lamla. It was your instruction. What is it to me? I want no more to do with him.’

  Lamla strengthened his hold on Hepteidon’s wrist. His voice rose in excitement as he spoke.

  ‘I have discovered the question, Hepteidon.’

  The young priest replied with genuine puzzlement:

  ‘What question, Lamla? All the questioning has been done. There is nothing to be learned from the madman.’

  Lamla shook his wrist.

  ‘It came to me in a flash of inspiration, Hepteidon. I had known that logic could not discover it, for logic is useless without presumption. It is a simple question, and the answer is equally simple. I want you to put this question to Kandrigi, for I believe he cannot refuse to answer it.’

  Hepteidon did no
t seem to understand. He shook his head.

  ‘There is no question, Lamla. Do you not understand that? We have finished with the old priest. It is better that you send him back to his tribe with a few gifts as a compensation-price.’

  ‘I cannot order you to ask this question, Hepteidon, for I have not the authority. But I can tell you the question and let you decide for yourself whether it should be asked or not.’

  ‘I do not want to know what the question is. I will not listen, Lamla.’ He pulled his wrist free and pressed his hands to his ears.

  Lamla looked at him, paused, and instead of speaking, he raised his fingers and began to spell on them. Immediately, Hepteidon closed his eyes, Lamla smiled at the sight. He stepped forward and spelled the question on Hepteidon’s fingers.

  The young priest turned away, bent double and swung back to face Lamla in a single violent movement. He opened his mouth, shook his head, and then quite suddenly went completely still. Slowly, he took his hands from his ears and opened his eyes.

  ‘I do not believe you,’ he said simply, his voice full and calm. He interlocked his fingers at his chest and pressed them together until the skin around his knuckles was white. ‘It is an absurd thing.’

  Lamla shrugged, feeling detached from Hepteidon’s behaviour.

  ‘What you think of it is not important.’

  ‘You are mad, Lamla. What you say is beyond reason.’

  ‘I am not mad, Hepteidon, though I admit that what I have told you is beyond reason. It came to me through inspiration. However, we will not waste time discussing the unreasonable. Before I ask you for your decision regarding the asking of this question, let me say this: if, as I believe, Kandrigi reveals his secret to us in reply to this question, I feel certain that he will be cured of his strange ailments. He will regain his sight and hearing, because there will no longer be any reason for his remaining stricken like this. Kandrigi will be whole again and in a month his wounds will have healed, so that he will return to his land with his health. Do you see the wisdom of this? Soon, you will begin a journey into the north and perhaps you will sail as far as the land of the Briga. What welcome do you think you will receive if a crippled Kandrigi is among them and it is discovered that you are the cause of his misfortune? Say the question on Kandrigi’s fingers, no more. Ma-Tin and I will be with you. We will take note of what he has to say.’

  Hepteidon continued to press his hands together; his muscles stood out on his neck. Lamla took him by the elbow and drew him over to the couch.

  Ma-Tin had watched them with growing curiosity and when Lamla led Hepteidon to the couch, he curled his lip and asked:

  ‘What ails Hepteidon? I have never seen a man so terrified.’

  Lamla’s reply was curt:

  ‘Then he is afraid of nothing, Ma-Tin.’ He stopped Hepteidon as the edge of the couch. ‘Now, Hepteidon, look down on Kandrigi and then give me your decision.’

  He looked down, groaned, and slipped to his knees. Ma-Tin hurried to support him, but Lamla stopped him with a sweep of his arm.

  ‘Tell me what ails him, Lamla. What are you doing to him?’ Ma-Tin asked angrily, ‘Why do you make him suffer the sight of the man he has examined?’

  ‘It is not my doing, Ma-Tin, believe me. It is a necessary thing, beyond my control.’

  Hepteidon had taken Kandrigi’s hand between his two and now he covered it with kisses. Lamla’s detachment grew and he turned to Ma-Tin and said:

  ‘You see, Ma-Tin, it is as I thought. Hepteidon loves old Kandrigi.’ Then he added, his voice trailing away: ‘But it is a pitiful sight.’

  Ma-Tin snorted, ‘This is an evil game, Lamla. Let me take Hepteidon out of here.’

  ‘No, There will be time enough for that,’ Lamla replied. He bent down and placed his hands on Hepteidon’s shoulders. ‘Tell me what you will do, Hepteidon,’ he said softly.

  Hepteidon turned his tear-stained face to Lamla and nodded. His green eyes were filled with hate. But Lamla did not feel the sear of his hate: he saw that it turned back in Hepteidon; that it was unsure of its object.

  Hepteidon bent over Kandrigi and slowly spelled out the question:

  ‘Tell me of the world’s end,’

  Without a flicker of reaction, Kandrigi began to speak:

  ‘It comes in time. All are helpless against time.

  ‘It comes through cold eternal space.

  ‘Be warned. Let your race be warned.

  ‘I have seen it. It is a great body, capable of great destruction.

  ‘Through time it comes from afar; in time it will cross the path of your earth.

  ‘Believe me, believe me, I grieve for you and your race. There is no stopping the body, for it goes beyond my power. I warn you, let your race be warned, so that they might prepare themselves for their destruction.

  ‘It comes in time. It comes with time. Tell your people, that they might prepare. Nothing can be done. I have seen it. Irresistible it is, plunging through dark immensities of space.

  ‘Be warned, it will grow large in your sky and you will know then that you have been forewarned.’

  Lamla could not conceal his triumph. Ma-Tin stared before him in stupefaction, then he shuddered and ran from the chamber.

  Hepteidon pushed himself to his feet and stood squarely before Lamla. His voice was venomous, projecting the hate at Lamla:

  ‘His senses have not returned to him.’

  Chapter Eighteen