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Authors: Gavin G. Smith

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BOOK: A Quantum Mythology
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The armour slid back. Vic and Scab lay face down inside the bikes, manoeuvred them around and made for the Great Rift Road’s on-ramp. There were other ways they could have chosen – tunnels that would have taken them to other shuttle stations – but that wasn’t the point of the exercise.

 

They hit the road doing speeds in excess of two hundred and fifty miles an hour, weaving in and out of the cradled traffic. Travelling vertically up the road, Vic felt like he was in a rocket.

The Amuser was on them the moment they left the on-ramp. Accurate fire from the oddly shaped ship’s short-range anti-personnel weaponry lit them up. Vic was impressed at Mr Hat’s pull, or perhaps his employer’s influence. Probably the latter. The authorities had allowed the bounty killer to bring his ship not only into the atmosphere, but into the road system. Vic was just pleased that it looked as if the lizard wasn’t permitted to use any of his heavy ordnance. Either that or he wanted them alive. That also made sense. They were the only link to Talia, after all, and it would explain why the automatons had appeared to go easy on them.

Assault-cannon fire chipped away at the bike. New armour was being regrown, but the carbon reservoirs were quite limited on a vehicle this size. The cannon fire sounded like someone beating on the bodyglove with jackhammers, every impact shaking the bike, the effects worsened because they were moving so quickly.

Strobe fire lit up the bike’s energy grid, making it glow brightly, the speed of its movement leaving fractal lines of light behind it as it wove in and out of the vertical traffic. The Amuser’s odd, flattened-octopus shape kept pace with them, pouring down constant fire. At the same time, the bike’s electronic defences were fighting off hacks from Mr Hat as he tried to control their systems.

The strobe guns and the P-sats’ lasers were firing constantly. There was no point firing at the Amuser; the strobe guns wouldn’t even score it – ships were just too heavily armoured. Instead they were using the lasers as point-defence weapons against the assault-cannon fire. The lasers drew red lines to the incoming rounds, trying to take the pressure off the bikes’ armour. They were, however, trying to intercept electromagnetically driven hypersonic rounds over short range, with mixed results.

Vic rode under an ore carrier and braked hard to match its speed. Scab joined him moments later. The Amuser moved up and over, then down and under the ore carrier, trying to get an angle of fire, but couldn’t.

‘So we just stay here, right?’ Vic asked over the ’face link, hopefully.

‘Sure,’ Scab said. It was one of the most reasonable things Vic could ever remember his partner saying. They cruised along vertically at a hundred miles an hour, the bikes’ armour re-growing from the badly depleted carbon reservoirs, the strobe guns and energy-dissipation grids cooling.

Then Vic saw them: the eyeless automatons crawling hand-over-hand on the ore hauler like insects, from above and below. Vic gunned the bike, feeding targeting solutions from his neunonics to the strobe gun as both he and Scab accelerated. The strobe guns spun in their mounts, firing rapid burst after rapid burst as the automatons leaped for them. They targeted the automatons closest to the bikes first, pouring fire into them at close range. The automatons turned neon, leaving fractal patterns of light in the air as they leaped and fell towards the bikes. Their energy-dissipation grids overheated and they exploded in mid-air. The explosions buffeted the bikes, and gyroscopes fought to keep them upright as they wobbled in the blast.

One of the automatons hit Vic’s bike before exploding and the bike skidded. Suddenly it was on its side, spinning. Vic was losing momentum and starting to fall away from the road as the three bubble wheels spun, trying to get traction with the vertical roadway.

Scab slewed his bike left and right as the automatons leaped for him. Those that didn’t explode in the sustained fire from the rotary strobe gun went tumbling into the rift below. He cut the bike hard to the right, causing other drivers to brake and swerve.

The wheels caught and Vic was upright again. He accelerated hard. The strobe gun was still firing, hitting automatons and other traffic alike. As he shot out from under the ore crawler, the automatons leaped for him, some missing, some hitting the road to be run over, others falling, bouncing off other traffic on the way down. They tried chasing both bikes, leaping from vehicle to vehicle, and they were fast, but not nearly fast enough to keep up. Vic was vaguely aware of the fight having caused a crash below him. Multiple vehicles smashed into each other, some of them spinning out into the air before gravity pulled them back down into the rift. One or two of the lighter, faster vehicles flew as far as the waterfall, only to be yanked downwards by billions of tonnes of water. Whomever Hat’s employer was, he must have a lot of influence to keep the traffic authorities out of this mess.

As soon as they emerged from under the ore hauler, the Amuser resumed its attack. Vic tasked the strobe gun and the P-sat’s laser to intercept the incoming assault-cannon fire, again with varying degrees of success. The cannon hits battered the bike around on the road, making it difficult to control. He could feel the heat from the overloading energy-dissipation grid even through the armour and insulating padding. He looked for another large vehicle to take cover under. Then he saw more of the automatons coming from above, leaping from vehicle to vehicle.

‘Give me a break,’ Vic muttered.

 

Mr Hat was receiving sensor feed from the Amuser as well as all the ship’s active weapons systems and all his automatons. He could also see the ensuing chaos on the vertical Great Rift Road through the circular webbed window in the smart matter of the ship’s gothic Command and Control centre. He was on his throne-like seat atop the extruded column that dominated the chamber. Mr Hat did not like the way things were going. He was losing far too many of his automatons. This was a wasteful way to treat them – ridiculous expense account aside, he was invested in them. He watched as they leaped from vehicle to vehicle, always heading downwards as the traffic was coming up. They landed on the vehicles with sufficient force to significantly dent bodywork.

Then he felt something press against the side of his face.

‘The load in this needler is designed specifically to pull its way through your armoured skin. The neurotoxin will overcome your internal defences and you will die painfully.’ As the female spoke, Mr Hat received warning messages that his neunonics were being hacked, successfully. ‘You’ll see the virus we uploaded into you. It will hide in your personality upload and aggressively pursue your backups. Maybe your insurance company will catch it, but me hacking your neunonics should be proof enough that it’s a serious bit of code. I’m telling you this to try and stop you from doing something really stupid in response to my presence. I’m assuming your automatons are programmed for martyrdom if anything happens to you, but bear in mind that I just want to talk.’

‘You have my attention, Miss Negrinotti,’ Mr Hat told the feline. He was less than happy, and more than a little surprised, that both his and the Amuser’s defences had been circumvented. He was, however, also intrigued to hear what she had to say. She looked a mess – what little was left of her fur was falling out in charred clumps. Whatever she’d been wearing – it looked like a lightweight spacesuit – had fused with her burned skin. She was obviously in agony and only being kept upright by her internal medical systems and an awful lot of drugs.

 

The automaton hit the road just in front of Vic. He braked hard, sliding under a heavy-cargo vehicle. The automaton bounced off the cargo vehicle and tumbled down into the rift. Vic braked and let the cargo vehicle pass over him before accelerating and steering around it. There were seven more automatons above, all making towards him. The strobe started firing again, trying to engage them all. Three of them leaped for him. Vic disengaged the electromagnetic locks on the bike’s bubble wheels and the road pushed the bike away from it. The bike started plummeting down into the rift, wheels spinning. Two of the automatons fell past. Something heavy hit the bike in mid-air and Vic tasked the P-sat to fire at whatever was on the bike. Then he used the AG motor on the P-sat to try and guide the free-fall. The AG motor pushed the bike back towards the road and Vic reengaged the electromagnetic locks on the wheels. Vehicles seeing the bike falling towards them tried desperately to get out of its way, causing more collisions. More vehicles tumbled off the vertical road.

There was a shrieking noise as the automaton riding the falling bike tore the armour open. Vic hacked the bike’s padding so he could move as the automaton reached for him. He spun his head around a hundred and eighty degrees to face the featureless automaton and reached under his thorax. He managed to draw his triple-barrelled shotgun pistol and push it between his body and the automaton’s. The automaton grabbed Vic’s head and started to squeeze. Vic fired all three barrels. The solid rounds penetrated the automaton’s body and exploded, and it went spinning into the Great Rift. The AG motor managed to guide the bike back onto the road and the wheels hit the surface hard. Without the padding, all Vic’s weight came down on his arm, which broke despite the armour and the reinforcement from his hard-tech augments. The bike spun downwards and across the road on its side. It bounced off a personal shuttle
v
ehicle. Then a cargo vehicle ran over it. The bike’s armour buckled but held up, crushing the body of the vehicle around Vic. Finally the bubble wheels got purchase and the bike righted itself, but it continued skidding as the wheels tried to get traction. He was heading towards another ore hauler. Finally the wheels caught, and a panicked, partially crushed Vic accelerated away from the oncoming traffic.

It was over now, Vic realised. With the bike’s armour torn open, all Mr Hat had to do was fire on him. Above him he could see more of the automatons leaping towards him.

 

‘I suspect the first thing we should do is call off the attack. I think the boys have had enough,’ Elodie said.

‘Agreed,’ Mr Hat said, and with a thought he had the automatons cease what they were doing and stay where they were. He was aware of Scab having reached the lip of the Great Rift Road. ‘However, you must tell me how you gained entry to the Amuser. You really shouldn’t have been able to do that. I’m assuming
EVA
? Whilst I was docked at the Tricorn?’

Elodie nodded. ‘A short
EVA
from the habitat. I spoofed your sensors and the suit was set up for stealth,’ the feline intrusion-specialist told him.

‘By the look of you, you rode the ship down during entry into the atmosphere. Some kind of insulating foam?’ Elodie nodded again. ‘So all you had to do then was override my airlock, spoof it so I didn’t know about it, sneak past all my sensors, spoof a nano-screen and hide from my automatons – none of which you should have been able to do. You really are very good, aren’t you?’ Mr Hat said. Elodie’s smile was more of a grimace. ‘And you have a ridiculous amount of resources behind you.’ At the base of the column, more of Mr Hat’s automatons were slowly moving towards them.

‘I’d advise against it – your psych profile says you don’t like taking unnecessary risks.’

‘Does it say that I also don’t like losing? Or being made a fool of?’

‘Yes, it does. There’s no shame in this. Your army aside, there’s one of you and three of us, and whatever lies we may like to tell ourselves, we’re all of a comparative skill level.’

‘Did you trick me here?’ the diminutive lizard asked.

‘We knew the information broker Jonas used – an AI affiliated with Pythia. We bribed him so he’d only accept your bid.’

‘I’d hope it was the highest,’ Mr Hat said.

‘With our contribution, it was.’

 

The automatons had stopped. Vic rode past them as they perched on vehicles, watching him with their eyeless faces. The Amuser had stopped firing as well. He rode over the lip. The bubble wheels deflated to a normal configuration as he made his way towards the shuttle station.

 

‘So I suppose the question remains: why?’ Mr Hat asked.

‘We want the blank,’ Elodie told him.

The lizard’s snout wrinkled in confusion. ‘Without his entangled twin, he only offers one-way communication with my employer, whom Scab can contact through other channels if he wishes. So why does he want the blank?’

‘I don’t know,’ Elodie said. The lizard’s voice-analysis software suggested she was probably telling the truth, and that there was an undercurrent of confusion and irritation connected to her lack of knowledge.

With a thought, Mr Hat brought the Amuser up over the lip of the rift and ordered his automatons to make for the closest shuttle station. He gazed out over the vast plain-like road. The vehicles on it looked like fast moving insects. He had the ship hover just beneath the transparent roof holding up the ocean.

‘You must realise that my employer’s a very powerful individual, yes?’ Mr Hat asked. ‘And he will be displeased about this, to say the least. Your threat is inconsequential compared to what he could do to me.’

‘You’ll weigh up the risks; we’re a more immediate threat.’

Mr Hat considered this. ‘My pride is wounded, Miss Negrinotti, but this really is a most interesting job.’

‘I’d give it up. Woodbine Scab destroys everything he touches.’

The diminutive lizard looked up at her. ‘Very well, I’ll give you the blank.’

 

Scab, a partially mangled Vic – who had to be cut out of his bodyglove bike – and a still-healing Elodie, escorting the blank – an eyeless human, idiot clone, biologically entangled to a twin somewhere – walked into the
Basilisk II
’s pool room. Steve, now in his dolphin body, was swimming in agitated circles.

‘A courier!’ his limbed P-sat shouted at them. ‘You had me delivered! You had me fucking delivered!’

‘You’re welcome,’ Vic groused.

 

 

 

36

Ancient Britain

 

 

When they left Cuda’s bower they were blindfolded again until they were close enough to easily find the tracks left by the column. The survivors had travelled deeper into woods, into the land that Guidgen and his people called Ardu.

Guidgen had spoken with the
gwyllion
, and they had agreed to cease the attacks until the
dryw
spoke with Bladud and his people. As they made their way past the outlying guards, a number of them nodded at Tangwen and Kush as they walked by. The guards glared at Guidgen with suspicion and no little dislike. It was obvious that he represented the tribe who had been murdering their people as they slept.

As they walked into the camp, Tangwen saw four riders enter as well. They wore the garb, bore the weapons and carried themselves as warriors, but their armour looked ill-fitting, as if it had belonged to someone else originally. They dismounted as Bladud and Nerthach, accompanied by Anharad and her silent grandson Mabon, approached the riders. If they were warriors, as they appeared to be, then it was fitting that Bladud greet them. Even from a distance, Tangwen could see that the newcomers had experienced hard times in the recent past.

‘That is Bladud,’ Tangwen told Guidgen. He nodded, smiling as if he knew that already. As they walked towards the Witch King, they started to hear the conversation with the newly arrived warriors.

‘I am Ysgawyn. These are my men – Brys, Gwynn and Madawg,’ the apparent leader of the warriors said.

‘That is all?’ Nerthach asked, sounding a little confused. ‘No deeds to your name, nor your father’s name, or your tribe?’

‘We are Durotriges from the south and the west,’ Ysgawyn told Nerthach. ‘We do not feel like great warriors. Our lands have been overrun by the spawn of Andraste and our people are dead, or worse.’

Bladud was studying the man, a look of concentration on his face. ‘There is some truth to your story, but that is not all of it, I think,’ he said.

Tangwen increased her pace, stooping to pick up a rock without breaking stride.

‘Tangwen?’ Kush said.

Tangwen pushed past a surprised Bladud and Nerthach. Ysgawyn turned. There was a moment of confusion but he realised her intent too late. As he started reaching for his sword, Tangwen hit him in the face with the rock again and again, riding him down to the ground, bloodying his mouth, breaking his nose and teeth. His three men reached for their weapons. Nerthach stepped forwards, pushing the youngest one, Gwynn, to the ground with his bulk as he drew his own blade. Bladud stepped back, watching impassively. Warriors were running towards the fight. Kush arrived first, axe at the ready. Ysgawyn’s men were quickly surrounded. Tangwen was crouched over Ysgawyn. She spat in his face and drew her iron-bladed dagger.

‘Tangwen!’ Bladud’s voice cut through the raised voices. Tangwen hesitated. Ysgawyn was staring up at her through the blood, furious. ‘This is ill done.’

‘These are the Corpse People. They make war on children and defenceless landsfolk. They kill for the sake of it and think they are dead. I am merely helping them with their belief.’

‘Then let us face each other like warriors, when I have a sword in my hand, or is that too much of challenge for you?’ Ysgawyn demanded. There were nods from among the warriors present. Tangwen spat in his face again.

‘I’ll give you the same chance you gave all the peaceful villages you sacked – not that you would have had the courage to do it if you hadn’t been allies of the Lochlannach!’ Tangwen hissed. There was more muttering from the surrounding warriors at the mention of the Lochlannach.

‘I have heard of the Corpse People,’ Nerthach mused. ‘It is an ill name.’

‘If Tangwen wishes to take this man’s life, then any who object may do so to me,’ Kush said. His voice was a low, menacing rumble. Guidgen had come to stand next to him. There was still a slight smile on the strange
dryw
’s face.

‘Are you spying for them? For Bress?’ Tangwen demanded.

‘No,’ Ysgawyn told her.

‘This is ill done,’ said Brys, the oldest of the Corpse People, a heavily built, grizzled man with long grey hair tied back into a ponytail. ‘We have waged war and raided just like the rest of you, only we are better at it. If Ysgawyn, or any of us, have broken your laws, then we have the right to challenge.’

‘Why aren’t you with Bress and his master, the Dark Man in the flames?’ Tangwen demanded.

‘They betrayed us!’ Ysgawyn shouted at her. ‘Are you happy?’

Tangwen stared down at him with utter contempt. She raised the stone again and he brought up his hands to shield his face. Tangwen dropped the stone, then straightened and faced Bladud.

‘If he gets in my way, or even irritates me, I’ll kill him,’ Tangwen told the Witch King.

‘Tangwen, it is not for you to speak to Bladud—’ Nerthach began. Kush opened his mouth to object.

‘Let her speak freely,’ Bladud said.

‘As far as I am concerned,’ Tangwen said, raising her voice so all could hear it, ‘this man is beneath respect. He may be treated as people see fit. If he offends you, or breaks any laws, he should be killed out of hand, for he does not deserve anything more.’

‘How convenient.’ It was said in a low, rasping voice, little more than a whisper, but it still carried. Tangwen turned around to see the sallow, narrow-faced, oddly frail-looking warrior with a receding hairline who had ridden in with Ysgawyn. He had been introduced as Madawg. He was staring at Tangwen in a way that made her feel uncomfortable.

‘Do you have something to say?’ Tangwen asked, her hand dropping to the haft of the hatchet pushed through her belt. Madawg said nothing. He just kept watching her.

Nerthach offered his hand to Ysgawyn and pulled him to his feet.

‘You help around here and you do as you’re told,’ Nerthach told the
rhi
of the Corpse People. ‘Any trouble and I’ll kill you myself – fair fight or not, it makes no difference to me, understand?’

Ysgawyn glared at the big warrior in his bear-fur cloak, but he nodded.

Tangwen turned to Bladud. ‘This is Guidgen, a
dryw
of the
gwyllion
,’ Tangwen told the Witch King.

Bladud offered his arm. Guidgen looked down at the hand. His smile grew a little wider but he did not take the proffered arm.

 

A short time later they were standing on a small earthen bank next to the mud track, some distance away from the main camp. Around them the leaves were just starting to yellow and the woods were soaked still from the overnight rain.

Bladud was opposite the wizened, still-smiling Guidgen, Anharad and Tangwen nearby. Nerthach was keeping watch, and Kush was also close by. Even Germelqart had come to sit quietly at the treeline after exchanging a few words with Kush in their own tongue.

‘Thank you for coming to speak with me,’ Bladud said. Guidgen nodded.

‘I do not thank you,’ Anharad said. ‘You have acted in a cowardly manner. You have waged war on the sleeping and the helpless, killed children, and all this on people who have suffered enough. I think you are no better than these Corpse People.’

‘Given the choice between doing the right thing and the survival of your people, what would you do?’ Guidgen asked.

Anharad opened her mouth to answer but then closed it again.

‘The Corpse People raided, the
gwyllion
are just protecting their land,’ Tangwen said. ‘I am not sure we would have done things very differently. When a stronger tribe comes to your land, you’re left with cunning and fear to best them. We used to lead raiders astray in the marshes and pick them off one by one.’

‘I am sure that Tangwen explained the situation?’ Bladud said. Guidgen nodded. ‘And you will join us?’

‘We have not even decided if we will let you pass,’ Guidgen said. ‘We will certainly not be serving you.’

Bladud held his composure well. Tangwen couldn’t help but smile. Anharad made a choking noise.

‘Do you understand what is happening?’ the Trinovantes woman demanded.

‘Indeed,’ Guidgen said.

‘And you believe it?’ Bladud asked. ‘It can sound difficult—’

‘The spawn of Andraste are less than two days behind you, and they kill or change everything in their path. Our scouts have seen them, and there is no way we can fight them.’

‘Yet,’ Bladud said.

‘Then your people will flee?’ Anharad asked.

‘Perhaps,’ said Guidgen.

‘Are you trying to be irritating?’ Anharad demanded.

‘No, it is incidental.’

Tangwen laughed and Anharad glared at her.

‘We are stronger together,’ Bladud pointed out.

Guidgen shook his head. ‘You, personally, are stronger, because you have power over these people. We would obviously be better off on our own. That is assuming the coming of Andraste’s brood is not a good thing.’

Bladud didn’t quite manage to keep a grasp on his composure this time. Even Tangwen was staring at Guidgen in shock.

‘Guidgen, you are right to question, but we have seen these things,’ Bladud said when he finally recovered the ability to speak. ‘There is no reasoning with them – what they do not kill, they change and then enslave.’

‘I would agree with all of that – with the exception of slavery,’ said Guidgen. ‘We think they are as much slaves as are the wolves in a pack.’

‘Wolf packs have leaders,’ Nerthach growled from where he was keeping watch.

Guidgen nodded towards him in agreement. ‘We made the mistake once of gathering power, of living behind walls, of trying to be civilised.’ Guidgen looked at Kush, who smiled and bowed towards him. ‘It was a mistake. Now the trees walk and we can hear the Horned God’s laughter echoing through their branches. We would be changed. What we are now would be no more, but we could better serve the Horned God, and through him Cuda.’

Bladud was already shaking his head. ‘This is not of Cuda. This is a blight – it sickens her.’

‘So you would have it, because your life is coming to an end and now a different life will be dominant. Tell me, do you think these things are evil?’

‘No,’ Bladud finally admitted. ‘They are … something else.’

‘Fine,’ Tangwen said. ‘But you can’t blame the old life for fighting back.’

Guidgen nodded towards her.

‘It sounds like an excuse to
not
fight, an excuse for cowardice,’ Anharad said, unimpressed.

‘To do something of which we are very afraid?’ Guidgen asked.

‘Is that what you have chosen?’ Bladud asked.

‘It is one of our choices. We could also flee on our own, so we would not be laden down with the others you have gathered around you. We could join you and help with the burden of your responsibility. Or—’

‘Fight us every step of the way so that you could sacrifice us to Andraste’s children,’ Bladud said. Guidgen nodded.

‘Is he under hospitality?’ Anharad demanded. Mabon was on his feet, hand on his knife, responding to his grandmother’s obvious anger.

‘Yes,’ Tangwen, Kush and Bladud said as one.

‘You fear a change,’ Guidgen said. ‘That is understandable, but it
is not so clear a path for us as it is for you. Constant fleeing would appear to offer no hope.’

Bladud was smiling. ‘I like you, Guidgen,’ he said.

‘I’m afraid I cannot say the same thing, for I know what you are,’ Guidgen said.

Nerthach turned to stare at Guidgen, furious. ‘
Dryw
or no, it does not befit you to insult Bladud!’ the big warrior told Guidgen. It was the first time the smile on the
dryw
’s face faltered.

‘He did not insult me,’ Bladud said thoughtfully.

‘Is there hope for you as a people?’ Guidgen asked.

‘Yes,’ Bladud told him. ‘But it is slim. It will be hard, and dangerous, and we will not discuss it with you unless we are sure you are with us.’

Guidgen nodded. It was his turn to look thoughtful. ‘And there are others here who know of this hope?’ Guidgen asked. Tangwen frowned. It sounded like an odd question.

‘Yes,’ Bladud said.

‘Very well. We will join you, we will help – on one condition,’ Guidgen said.

‘That I give myself to the land,’ Bladud said.

‘Enough of this,’ Nerthach spat and started drawing his sword. Tangwen’s hands went to her hatchet and her dagger. Bladud stepped between Nerthach and Guidgen.

‘It is better that you cut me down than strike a
dryw
in my presence, do you understand?’ the Witch King demanded. Nerthach froze. The big warrior was shaking with anger. Guidgen appeared to be perfectly calm and unafraid. The smile was back on the wizened
dryw
’s face as he looked around at the wet woods. Bladud turned back to Guidgen. ‘Do I know you?’

‘We have never met,’ Guidgen told him.

‘Why would you see my blood on the earth?’

‘Because the oaks speak of you, and the words they whisper through their creaking branches are
bannog rhi
.’

‘I have made no secret of this,’ Bladud said. ‘We are stronger together, particularly now, and if there is a stronger leader, they will take my place whether I want it or not. But these are things to discuss once we have found a way to deal with the spawn of Andraste.’

Guidgen’s smile had gone now. ‘That is a lie,’ he said. Tangwen’s breath caught in her throat.

‘I’m warning you—’ Nerthach began.

‘Nerthach, enough!’ Bladud said. He was angry now. ‘Is this your
idea of serving your people? Hide behind your status as a
dryw
to insult warriors?’ he demanded of Guidgen.

‘You do not wear a warrior’s robe,’ Guidgen said. ‘And it is no insult to say what is, is. The actions you take now will help your claim as
bannog rhi
.’

‘Fine, that is true, but I also think you underestimate how much I want my people and myself to live,’ Bladud said after some thought.

‘You would rule us?’ Guidgen asked.

‘I would have you join us.’

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