“Quite so.” Erlin stood nearby, hands enfolded in his cloak as he regarded a tall figure standing a short way off, head lowered as he read an unfurled scroll. “And the man who built it.”
The man lifted his gaze from the scroll, Vaelin moving to view his face, somehow knowing what he would see. He was bearded with a heavy brow, though not so aged and lined as his statue would later depict him, younger even than the painting on the Wolf People’s cave wall. But still there was a gravity to his expression as he surveyed his newborn city, eyes narrowed, occasionally flickering in suppressed frustration.
“I doubt such a word had any meaning here.”
Vaelin gestured at the toiling workers. “But these men do his bidding.”
“And seem happy doing so, don’t you think? I see only what the stone shows me, brother. But I’ve seen nothing that would indicate this man commanded through fear or force of arms. Search the entire city, you won’t find a single sword.”
A raised voice caused the bearded man to turn, his teeth suddenly bared in a bright smile as a young woman ran to his side. Once again, Vaelin was unsurprised to note her resemblance to the woman from the cave paintings: green-eyed and dark of hair. She shared a warm embrace with the bearded man, fingers entwining in automatic intimacy as they kissed. She drew back with a laugh, turning and extending her hand, speaking words Vaelin couldn’t fathom, though her tone was rich, joyous even. A narrow-faced young man moved into view, approaching to within a few feet of the couple, smiling a tight, reluctant smile. He was subtly different from the figure depicted in the cave, younger and without the sardonic twist to his mouth, but still recognisable. The woman laughed and reached out to draw him closer, presenting him to the bearded man, who ignored the young man’s hand to enfold him in an embrace.
“Brother and sister,” Vaelin realised, his gaze switching between the woman and the young man.
“I think so,” Erlin said. “The first time all three were together. But far from the last.”
Abruptly the memory shifted, the buildings and the people gone to swirling mist around them, as if they stood at the centre of a vortex though there was no sensation of wind. Soon it slowed, the mist coalescing into the city once more, though now the buildings were all complete. Spring had come to the mountains and the air was fresh, the city lively with people; parents with children, lovers walking hand in hand. Music seemed to rise from every quarter, a man with a harp of some kind singing from a rooftop nearby, a cluster of singers a few streets away adding their own voices. There were also knots of people engaged in animated discussion, gesticulating at each other with scrolls and odd devices Vaelin took to be some form of sextant.
“Put more than one philosopher together and you’ll birth an argument,” Erlin commented. “A truism I’ve observed the world over. In fact, I once saw one argue with himself, it got quite violent in the end.” He moved to the edge of the elevated platform, extending his arm in a broad sweep. “I think that’s why he built this place. A haven for thinkers, artists, scholars. In all my travels, I’ve never seen a city like it.”
An angry voice drew Vaelin’s attention to the approach of the dark-haired woman, striding ahead of the bearded man, hands moving in emphatic, negative slashes. Her brother followed behind at a distance. They were all older than before, though perhaps by only a few years. The younger man’s timidity seemed to have vanished, the weary amusement on his face an echo of what he would later depict on the cave wall.
The woman went to the memory stone and Vaelin saw it now had a twin, identical in shape but not in colour, for this stone was black, its surface free of any flaw or vein.
The woman paused to regard the black stone, her face briefly transformed into a mask of confusion before turning back to the bearded man, pointing at the stone, voice raised in emphatic tones. He sighed, moving to stand opposite her with the stone between them. He spoke softly but his words were no less certain than hers, and also carried an unmistakable note of refusal. The woman began to rail at him, handsome features marred by a deep anger. She calmed a little as her brother came forward, moving close to the stone, though Vaelin noted how he put his hands behind his back. He spoke for a short time, shrugging often, his sister evidently annoyed by his apparent lack of concern. Eventually she threw up her hands in an exclamation of angry defeat and strode away.
