The Evolutionary Void (45 page)

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?” Analee 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
knew it was near. Cargo ships had
been a regular sighting for days, and early that morning they’d passed 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 sturdy 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
was rigged
with a grubby patchwork of canvas stitched 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
and the
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.

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
.

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,
Ladycrapit, 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 ashore; 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 ashore yet, and already you’re moaning that
everything’s going against you.”

Ladydamnit, you have no fucking idea!
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 assembled 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
.

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
.

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 assured 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?
Edeard was still thinking.
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 attitude. “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
.