The Tower Broken(128)

‘No.’

‘How long were we in the Scar?’

‘Days.’ She smiled. ‘Arigu was here with news of Cerana. We have won the battle. They did not wish to fight once the austeres sensed their leader was gone.’

He had won this war, if one could call it that; but there would be other enemies, other battles, and his empire had much work to do before that. Sarmin watched the grass, enjoying Grada’s quiet company, not wishing to end it just yet.

She stretched and looked to the south. ‘I should make my way downriver to find Pelar and the other wind-sworn, Hashi,’ she said, ‘and bring them back to Nooria.’

‘Yes,’ he said, his heart heavy. But Grada would return, and she would bring him his son. He had said too many goodbyes, but this would not be one of them.

‘You were brave,’ she said, and he inclined his head in thanks. They fell silent again, and he wondered that the two of them, who had once been so close, had so little to say – but perhaps that came through knowing one another well enough that words were unnecessary.

At last she moved off, towards the Blue Shields and their conical tents, the banners flying in the breeze.

*

That night Mesema found him standing in the grass, staring out towards Nooria. He felt her approach and turned, reaching out his hand. She clasped it and stood by his side. The sun had already set, but in the dark the city remained visible, a massive beast of light-coloured stone rising from the sands and cutting across their view of the mountains.

‘It is not so destroyed that we cannot rebuild it,’ he said. Along their bond she felt hope and determination.

‘No.’ She shivered, and he wrapped an arm around her. ‘The question is, will the desert take over the meadow, or the meadow the desert?’

‘We will find out,’ he replied. ‘My plan for the city will not change either way. Between the Tower courtyard and the ruined temple of Meksha I will create something new, a place for learned men to gather and share their inventions. The temple scholars will be the first to establish their workshops there, but we will invite curious men from all over the world.’

‘And the Tower?’

‘We have yet to explore the magic that Meksha left for Uthman. We don’t know all the things it can do, or its dangers. When we know more we will know what to build.’

Mesema squeezed his hand and looked back towards the others. Azeem, Didryk and Adam sat around the fire, talking. Adam kept his head bowed and his words short.

‘You didn’t ask about the palace.’ Sarmin wrapped his arm around her shoulders. ‘The palace will be rebuilt too, with apartments for the empress close to mine. And there will be no temple of Herzu, and no slaves.’

She said nothing, only listened. He continued, ‘Since we are rebuilding, why not rebuild the very ways of the empire? I can start with the palace, as it belongs to me. The palace will establish the ideal for everyone. In all my years living in the palace its ways have never suited me.’

‘Nor mine,’ she agreed.

‘We shall make it more Windreader.’

Smiling she tugged him away from the fire, further into the dark.

‘Where are you taking me?’

‘On nights like this, the young Windreader women may choose a man to take into the grass with them. And here is grass. And I choose you.’

He followed her until the men’s voices grew faint and the darkness covered their movements. Mesema dropped into the grass and he sat down next to her. Singing drifted from the campfire and he leaned forwards, listening, surprise on his face. ‘Can Azeem sing?’

She caught the distant melody and laughed. ‘You know, I think he can.’

‘And I can hear it.’ Sarmin smiled and put a hand against her cheek. ‘It is a good tune. There is so much more for me to learn: how music works, how to make machines, how to build a dome – and all about you.’

‘You know all about me.’

‘But I don’t.’ He lay back and looked up at the stars. ‘I have never been so far from the palace, and yet I feel that I am home.’

‘You are home. All of this is yours.’ Mesema leaned back on her hands and watched the moon. His fingers curled around her shoulder and she turned back to him.

‘Ours,’ he said. ‘Ours.’