‘Are you sure this is all right? We can’t get any closer to Moskva without the tsar riding out with his knights, but it’s still a long way.’
‘It won’t be a problem. In the morning a patrol will come down the road and they’ll find me here. I’ll send a message to the patriarch, and he’ll send a cart.’ Va rested his hand on top of the uppermost book. ‘I don’t know what he’s going to say about the one that is missing.’
‘Well,’ said Benzamir, ‘if he gives you any trouble, tell him he’ll have me to answer to.’
‘You’re being irreverent. The patriarch is a righteous man. If he wants to admonish me, it’s his privilege to do so and mine to accept whatever punishment he hands out.’
‘I don’t think any man alive could have done more. Eleven out of twelve’s not bad.’
‘I promised him I’d get them all.’
‘It’s fish food. No one will trouble it for a thousand years.’
‘Ariadne said we could go back and get it.’
‘It’s not Ariadne who’ll be diving in the dark looking for it. You have to appreciate that while it’s trivial to protect something at one atmosphere from vacuum, it’s a whole different engineering solution when you’re trying to hold back several tonnes of water. Even if I still had the battlesuit, I don’t know if I could have done it. And I’m not skinny-dipping in the Outer Ocean for anyone, not even you, Brother Va.’
Va tutted. ‘And what of Solomon Akisi?’
‘What of him? Worried about all the things he’s read? Don’t be. They’ll only serve to drive him mad. He’s seen the far future, and he knows he’ll be long gone before any of it comes to pass. Even if the emperor pardons him, his ingenuity will constantly crash into the barrier of what is possible.’ Benzamir laughed. ‘You knew him: what do you say to that?’
‘It sounds like justice.’ Va looked around, still surprised not to see Elenya.
‘How does it feel?’
‘Feel?’ He turned north, to where Novy Rostov lay far away. ‘Does it matter what I feel? What’s important is that she’s free.’ He turned his head and looked at the ground. Snow stuck in the ploughed furrows, leaving the ridges as iron-hard stripes. ‘I failed her. I was never what she wanted me to be, except for that one brief moment when she thought me everything and before I realized I was nothing.’
‘Everything that was said to have happened: did it?’ Benzamir idly opened a book; Va pushed it firmly closed again.
‘Yes,’ he said quietly. ‘That and more. Having Elenya became all-consuming. Idolatrous thoughts. Pride, envy, lust, anger. I was so deep in sin.’
Benzamir coughed. ‘She does have that effect on people.’
Va looked up. ‘I know. She hated the way men always looked at her. Though not you. She said as much. But you never asked her to go with you.’ He frowned. ‘Why not?’
Benzamir leaned forward and rested his elbow on the books to stop himself fiddling with them. ‘I’ll answer that if you will first.’
‘I have found something infinitely better: a life spent in simple service to God, the patriarch and my fellow men.’
‘Nothing about your life will ever be simple, Va. I suddenly realized I wasn’t the solution to any of her problems. I saw my future in that moment.’
‘God gives His wisdom to all, but only the wise take notice of it. You’re an ungodly heathen, Benzamir Mahmood, but apart from that it can’t be denied that you make a better Christian than most.’
‘High praise indeed, Brother.’
‘You became an agent of God’s will, whether you knew it or not, cared or not. I feel that there’s hope for the world when I think of your example. If God can use even you—’
‘What is this? From high praise to faint praise?’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Va. ‘I don’t presume to know the mind of the Almighty.’
‘I’ll get the rest of the books.’ Benzamir climbed up through the hatch, to be replaced by Alessandra.
She was still dressed as a Mahgrebi woman, but she had her own light-bees and a translator drone following her around.
She passed Va another book, and he stacked it with the others.
‘A fine night,’ she said. She was uncomfortable around him, he could tell, though she was trying.
‘Alessandra. What is it about me?’
She jumped down. ‘You do nothing in half-measures, Va.’
‘Isn’t that good?’
‘It’s frightening to normal people. Soldiers hire themselves out, march here, march there, wave their spears and go home. You stopped the Caliphate in its tracks, destroyed its armies and changed history. Monks pray and sing and look after the sick and the poor. You travelled across continents with no idea of where you were going and ended up saving the world from undying creatures with god-like powers.’
‘What else should I have done?’ said Va, genuinely perplexed.
‘You? You’re incapable of doing anything different. It was the only course of action you could possibly take. Robbers steal your books of forbidden knowledge. You, and only you, were ever going to get them back, no matter what obstacles stood in your way. And look.’ She pointed to the metal books. ‘You were right.’
‘Anyone else in my position would have done the same. It would be their duty.’
‘Anyone else in your position would have either curled up into a little ball of terror, or would still be wandering around foreign lands trying to work out which way was up. You’re an extraordinary man, Va. Everything about you is just about held in balance, like you’re standing on a needle. It’s agony for you there, but you know it’d be much worse if you fell. If you learned to calm down a little, perhaps mere mortals like myself wouldn’t be so terrified of you.’
‘I’m sorry I asked.’
She laughed. ‘Don’t be peevish. You call Benzamir a good man. So are you. But you have to realize that failure is sometimes inevitable.’
‘With God, all things are possible,’ he retorted.
‘And you said you didn’t know the mind of God. He has to teach you humility somehow. Who better to learn it from than a woman?’
‘You were eavesdropping.’
‘Just like me,’ said Benzamir. He handed down the last two books and picked up a tray before joining them on the ground. He breathed in the smells of Earth: damp air, frozen soil, rotting wood. ‘This is it, then.’
The tray held three beakers and an ancient stone bottle.
Alessandra picked up the bottle, opened the stopper and recoiled as the vapour assaulted her nose. ‘What is that?’
‘It is’ – Benzamir hesitated – ‘not of this world. But it won’t kill you.’
He held the beakers together and Alessandra poured a generous measure in each. ‘Steady,’ he said. ‘The tsar’ll find us asleep in his fields in the morning. And an inconveniently large spaceship not quite touching the ground.’
Sighing, Alessandra raised her beaker. ‘To friends.’
‘No, no, no,’ said Va. ‘You’re doing it wrong. A toast is the reason to drink. It gives meaning to it, and the drink is the amen. Like this: Rory macShiel helped me, even when his own wife begged him not to. Without him, I’d never have recovered the books, and so I drink to him.’ He tilted his wrist and sank all the liquor in one gulp.
Benzamir shrugged and followed suit. Alessandra sipped at hers.
‘Now. Said.’ Va reached for the bottle again. He topped up his beaker, and Benzamir’s.
‘I’ll take him,’ said Benzamir. ‘Said Mohammed is gracious in defeat, humble in victory, ferocious in battle and wise in the ways of peace. He is a good friend whom I will never forget. For him I wish long life, good health, a good wife and many camels.’
This time they all drank like Russians. The bottle went round again.
‘Wahir?’ said Va.
‘Why not?’ Alessandra massaged her throat to force her voice from it. ‘Wahir, with his head full of stories, his endless questions and unquenchable enthusiasm. Not quite a boy, not yet a man, but he’s seen and done more in his short life so far than many will ever see or do.’ She drank again, and gritted her teeth as she swallowed. ‘Gah.’