Read Online The Warrior Prophet by R. Scott Bakker - Free Book Online
Authors: R. Scott Bakker
Ads: Link
at the end of the world.”
Kellhus’s expression, normally so blessedly devoid of conflict, darkened. “What are you saying, Akka?”
“Don’t you see?” Achamian whispered. “ You’re the one, Kellhus. The Harbinger! The fact you’re here means that it’s starting all over again …”
Sweet Sejenus.
“The Second Apocalypse, Kellhus … I’m talking about the Second Apocalypse. You are the sign!”
Kellhus’s hand slipped from his shoulder. “But that doesn’t make sense, Akka. The fact I’m here means nothing. Nothing . Now I’m here, and before I was in Atrithau. And if my bloodline reaches as far back as you say, then an Anasûrimbor has always been ‘here,’ wherever that might be …”
The Prince of Atrithau’s eyes lost their focus, wrestled with unseen things. For a moment, the glamour of absolute self-possession faltered, and he looked like any man overwhelmed by a precipitous turn of circumstance.
“It’s just a …” He paused, as if lacking the breath to continue.
“A coincidence,” Achamian said, pressing himself to his feet. For some reason, he yearned to reach out, steady him with his embrace. “That’s what I thought … I admit I was shocked when I first met you, but I never thought … It was just too mad! But then …”
“Then what?”
“I found them. I found the Consult … The night you and the others celebrated Proyas’s victory over the Emperor, I was summoned to the Andiamine Heights—by no less than Ikurei Conphas—and brought to the Imperial Catacombs. Apparently they’d found a spy in their midst, one that convinced the Emperor that sorcery simply had to be involved. But there was no sorcery, and the man they showed me was no ordinary spy …”
“How so?”
“For one, he called me Chigra, which is Seswatha’s name in aghurzoi, the perverted speech of the Sranc. Somehow he could see Seswatha’s trace within me … For another, he …” Achamian pursed his lips and shook his head. “He had no face . He was an abomination of the flesh, Kellhus! A spy that can mimic the form of any man without sorcery or sorcery’s Mark. Perfect spies!
“Somehow, somewhere, the Consult murdered the Emperor’s Prime Counsel and had him replaced . These, these things could be anywhere! Here in the Holy War, in the courts of the Great Factions … For all we know they could be Kings!”
Or Shriah …
“But how does that make me the Harbinger?”
“Because it means the Consult has mastered the Old Science. Sranc, Bashrags, Dragons, all the abominations of the Inchoroi, are artifacts of the Tekne, the Old Science, created long, long ago, when the Nonmen still ruled Eärwa. It was thought destroyed when the Inchoroi were annihilated by Cû’jara-Cinmoi—before the Tusk was even written, Kellhus! But these, these skin-spies are new . New artifacts of the Old Science. And if the Consult has rediscovered the Old Science, there’s a chance they know how to resurrect Mog-Pharau …”
And that name stole his breath, winded him like a blow to the chest.
“The No-God,” Kellhus said.
Achamian nodded, swallowing as though his throat were sore. “Yes, the No-God …”
“And now that an Anasûrimbor has returned …”
“That chance has become a near certainty.”
Kellhus studied him for a stern moment, his expression utterly inscrutable. “So what will you do?”
“My mission,” Achamian said, “is to observe the Holy War. But I’ve a decision to make … One that claws my heart every waking moment.”
“Which is?”
Achamian tried hard to weather his student’s glare, but there seemed to be something in his eyes, something incomparable—terrifying even. “I haven’t told them about you, Kellhus. I haven’t told my brothers that the Celmomian Prophecy has been fulfilled. And so long as I don’t tell them, I betray them, Seswatha, myself ”—he cackled again—“maybe even the world …”
“But why then?” Kellhus asked. “Why haven’t
Kellhus’s expression, normally so blessedly devoid of conflict, darkened. “What are you saying, Akka?”
“Don’t you see?” Achamian whispered. “ You’re the one, Kellhus. The Harbinger! The fact you’re here means that it’s starting all over again …”
Sweet Sejenus.
“The Second Apocalypse, Kellhus … I’m talking about the Second Apocalypse. You are the sign!”
Kellhus’s hand slipped from his shoulder. “But that doesn’t make sense, Akka. The fact I’m here means nothing. Nothing . Now I’m here, and before I was in Atrithau. And if my bloodline reaches as far back as you say, then an Anasûrimbor has always been ‘here,’ wherever that might be …”
The Prince of Atrithau’s eyes lost their focus, wrestled with unseen things. For a moment, the glamour of absolute self-possession faltered, and he looked like any man overwhelmed by a precipitous turn of circumstance.
“It’s just a …” He paused, as if lacking the breath to continue.
“A coincidence,” Achamian said, pressing himself to his feet. For some reason, he yearned to reach out, steady him with his embrace. “That’s what I thought … I admit I was shocked when I first met you, but I never thought … It was just too mad! But then …”
“Then what?”
“I found them. I found the Consult … The night you and the others celebrated Proyas’s victory over the Emperor, I was summoned to the Andiamine Heights—by no less than Ikurei Conphas—and brought to the Imperial Catacombs. Apparently they’d found a spy in their midst, one that convinced the Emperor that sorcery simply had to be involved. But there was no sorcery, and the man they showed me was no ordinary spy …”
“How so?”
“For one, he called me Chigra, which is Seswatha’s name in aghurzoi, the perverted speech of the Sranc. Somehow he could see Seswatha’s trace within me … For another, he …” Achamian pursed his lips and shook his head. “He had no face . He was an abomination of the flesh, Kellhus! A spy that can mimic the form of any man without sorcery or sorcery’s Mark. Perfect spies!
“Somehow, somewhere, the Consult murdered the Emperor’s Prime Counsel and had him replaced . These, these things could be anywhere! Here in the Holy War, in the courts of the Great Factions … For all we know they could be Kings!”
Or Shriah …
“But how does that make me the Harbinger?”
“Because it means the Consult has mastered the Old Science. Sranc, Bashrags, Dragons, all the abominations of the Inchoroi, are artifacts of the Tekne, the Old Science, created long, long ago, when the Nonmen still ruled Eärwa. It was thought destroyed when the Inchoroi were annihilated by Cû’jara-Cinmoi—before the Tusk was even written, Kellhus! But these, these skin-spies are new . New artifacts of the Old Science. And if the Consult has rediscovered the Old Science, there’s a chance they know how to resurrect Mog-Pharau …”
And that name stole his breath, winded him like a blow to the chest.
“The No-God,” Kellhus said.
Achamian nodded, swallowing as though his throat were sore. “Yes, the No-God …”
“And now that an Anasûrimbor has returned …”
“That chance has become a near certainty.”
Kellhus studied him for a stern moment, his expression utterly inscrutable. “So what will you do?”
“My mission,” Achamian said, “is to observe the Holy War. But I’ve a decision to make … One that claws my heart every waking moment.”
“Which is?”
Achamian tried hard to weather his student’s glare, but there seemed to be something in his eyes, something incomparable—terrifying even. “I haven’t told them about you, Kellhus. I haven’t told my brothers that the Celmomian Prophecy has been fulfilled. And so long as I don’t tell them, I betray them, Seswatha, myself ”—he cackled again—“maybe even the world …”
“But why then?” Kellhus asked. “Why haven’t
Similar Books
