The Last Guardian

'You don't know what you've done,' whispered Araksis, blood seeping from a cut on his temple.

A shout went up from the courtyard. Nu cursed and ran to the window. Three more guards had appeared and were kneeling by the bodies of the sentries.

Nu raced down the stairs. Two of the guards were entering the doorway as he came into sight and he dived at them, his weight sending them sprawling to the ground. Running into the sunlight, he ducked a sweeping sword-cut and back-handed the wielder from his feet. Then leaping into the chariot, he took up the whip and cracked it over the heads of the two horses. They surged into the traces and hurtled out through the gateway.

In the high Star Tower Araksis struggled to his feet. Four of the crystals were ruined and he had no time now to repair the damage. Two still hung in place — enough to send a beam of power over the City of Ad. If the Sword was directed towards Ad, the Stone could still catch it in the sky and nullify its awesome power. If it missed the city, then it could explode harmlessly in the wide ocean beyond. Araksis moved to the great Stone and began to whisper words of power.

As the racing chariot sped towards the city, Nu hoped he had done enough to wreck Araksis'

plans. If he had not, then Shannow's world would face the agony of Pendarric's evil.

The horses were tired and it was two hours before Nu guided the chariot into the docks. The Arcanau was berthed at the twelfth jetty as Pashad had told him. He left the chariot and ran up the gangplank. Conalis saw him and moved from the tiller to usher him below deck.

'This is madness, Highness,' said the burly master. 'The tides are against us, we have no manifest and the livestock are still being loaded.'

'This is a day of madness. Is my wife here?'

'Yes, and your sons and your servants; they are all below decks. But there is an inspection planned. What will I tell the Port Master?'

'Tell him what you please. Do you have a family, Conalis?'

'A wife and two daughters.'

'Get them on board now.'

'Why?'

'I wish to give them a great present… you also. That should suffice. Now I am going to sleep for a couple of hours. Wake me at dusk. Now tell any of the crew who have wives or sweethearts to bring them aboard also. I have presents for all.'

'Whatever you say, Highness. But it would be best for me to say the Lady Pashad has presents; you are still named as a traitor.'

'Wake me at dusk — and put off the inspection until tomorrow.'

'Yes, Highness.'

Nu spread himself out on the narrow bunk, too tired even to seek Pashad. His eyes closed and sleep overcame him within seconds…

He awoke with a start to find Pashad sitting beside him. His eyes were heavy with sleep, and it seemed only moments before that he had lowered himself to the bunk.

'It is dusk, my lord,' said Pashad and he rose.

'Are the children well?'

'Yes. All are safe, but the ship is crowded now with the wives and children of the crew.'

'Get them all below. I will speak to Conalis. Send him to the tiller.'

'What is happening, Nu? This is all beyond me.'

'You will not have long to wait, beloved. Believe me.'

Conalis met him at the tiller. 'I do not understand this, Highness. You said you wanted to sail at dusk, but now we are full of women and children who must be put ashore.'

'No one is going ashore,' Nu told him, scanning the sky.

Conalis muttered a curse — at the far end of the dock a squad of soldiers was marching towards them. 'Word must be out that you are here,' said the Master. 'Now we are all doomed.'

Nu shook his head. 'Look there!' he shouted, his arm lancing up, finger pointing to the sky where a long silver arrow was arcing across the heavens. 'Cut the ropes,' bellowed Nu. 'Do it now if you value your life!'

Conalis lifted an axe from a hook near the stern and hammered it through the docking rope.

Running forward, he did the same at the prow. The Arcanau drifted away from the jetty and Nu pushed the tiller hard left. Feeling the ship move, many of the women and children surged up to the deck. On the dock the soldiers ran to the quayside, but the gap was too great to jump. Across the mouth of the bay a long trireme waited, its bronze ramming horn glinting in the light of the dying sun.

'It'll sink us,' shouted Conalis.

'No, it will not,' Nu told him. In the distance a colossal burst of white light was followed by an explosion that rocked the earth. A terrible tremor ran through the city and the Arcanau trembled.

'Shall I loose the sail?' Conalis shouted.

'No, a sail would destroy us. Get everyone below.'

The sky darkened. Then the sun swept majestically back into the sky and a hurricane wind roared across the city. Nu took his Sipstrassi Stone from the pocket of his jacket and whispered a prayer.

The tidal wave, more than a thousand feet high, thundered across the city and Nu could see giant trees whirling in the torrent. If any were to strike the Arcanau, the vessel would be smashed to tinder. Their prow slowly swung until it pointed straight at the gigantic wall of water. Clutching the Sipstrassi, Nu felt the shock of the wave. The ship was lifted as if by a giant hand and carried high into the roaring swell, yet not one drop of water splashed the decks. Up and up soared the vessel until it crested the wave and bobbed on the surface. Far below them, the trireme was lifted like a cork and hammered against the cliffs on the outer curve of the bay; the ship exploded on impact and disappeared beneath the torrent. To the east, the plume of the wave raced on.

In the sudden silence Conalis moved alongside Nu, his face ashen.

'It's all gone,' he whispered. 'The world is destroyed.'

'No,' said Nu. 'Not the world. Only Atlantis. Raise the sail. When the waters subside, we must find a new home.'

The lowing of the livestock brought a wry smile from Nu. 'At least we'll have cattle and sheep,'

he said.

Pashad came on to the deck, leading her sons, Shem, Ham and Japheth. Nu strode to meet her.

'What will we do now?' she asked. 'Where shall we go?'

'Wherever it is, we will be together,' he promised.

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

Shannow sank back on his haunches. Suddenly he felt good — better than he had in years. It was a most curious sensation. Despite his lack of rest, he felt such strength in his limbs. A crack opened on the ledge and he felt the Tower move. Swiftly he levered himself over the side and began to climb down. The Tower shivered, the top section breaking away and crashing down. Shannow hugged himself to the wall as the rocks and stones plunged past him, then slowly he completed his descent.

Beth ran to him. 'My God, Shannow. Look at you! What the Hell happened up there?'

'What's wrong?' he asked.

'You look young,' she said. 'Your hair is dark, your skin… It's incredible.'

A low groan came from the left and Shannow and Beth walked to where the Parson lay, his body broken, blood seeping from his right ear, his left leg bent under him. Shannow knelt by the man.

'The Sword…?' whispered the Parson.

Shannow cradled the man's head. 'It went where God intended.'

‘I’m dying, Shannow. And He won't appear to me. I failed Him…'

'Rest easy, Parson. You earned the right to make mistakes.'

'I failed Him.'

'We all fail Him,' said Shannow softly. 'But He doesn't seem to mind much. You did your best and you worked hard. You saved the town. You did a lot of good. He saw that, Parson. He knows.'

'I wanted… Him… to love me. Wanted… to earn…' his voice faded.