them,’ said Gyrull. ‘Or the Stassor Aachim. Or the exiled ones, for that matter. What was their name?’
‘Clan Elienor,’ said Ryll. ‘Though without their constructs, and reduced to beggary on the shores of the Sea of Thurkad, Elienor can’t threaten us.’
‘If we attack them, Vithis might come to their aid despite sending them into exile. We must do nothing to provoke any of the Aachim, for we cannot fight them and the old humans. But it’s the old humans that worry me. They adapt too quickly, and they’re deadly inventive. We’d better step up the attacks on their manufactories.’
‘Indeed. And now I must rest for an hour or two,’ said Anabyng. ‘It was a wearying flight and I’m spent. After that, we’ll see what the tetrarch can tell us.’ He bowed to the matriarch, nodded to Ryll and went out.
‘You haven’t eaten your meal,’ Gyrull said to Ryll, glancing at the joint on the table.
He walked across and tossed it back in the tray. ‘I no longer enjoy the taste of human flesh, Matriarch. I’d like to talk to you about that … if you have the time. I’ve begun to feel that it’s wrong.’
‘Wrong?’ she said without emphasis.
He had no idea what she was thinking. ‘To eat the flesh of another sentient species, one that is, despite outward appearances, not so very different from ourselves, it just seems … I feel that it reduces us to the level of beasts. And we’re not beasts!’ he cried. Then he went on, more tentatively, ‘Are we, Matriarch?’
‘No, Ryll,’ she said softly. ‘We were artists once, and philosophers, with a noble culture that stretched back a thousand years. In those days our identity did not depend on warriors’ arts. We were once great, and we lost it all. No,’ she said reflectingly, ‘our ancestors abandoned the past so that we could survive in the void. We had no choice.’
‘This war stopped being about survival long ago,’ said Ryll. ‘It’s become existence, and it’s not enough. I want our culture back, Matriarch. I feel hollow inside, as if I’ve lost my soul. And I’m not the only one.’
‘Many of us have begun to feel that way,’ she said. ‘And we matriarchs are doing what we can to shape our people for the future, ill-fitted as we are for the task.’
‘Don’t say that, Matriarch,’ said Ryll. ‘You are the best of us; our guiding force.’
‘We were, in the void, and even in the early days here. But the world is changing too quickly, Ryll, and we’re too fixed in the old ways. We can’t guide you much longer. We must make way for a new generation, and I’m afraid …’
‘You, Matriarch?’ he said uncomprehendingly.
‘The war may soon be over but the peace will be even more dangerous for us, for our warrior caste is not fitted for it. Many of our people can conceive of nothing but war and don’t want to give up its glories, even for peace.’
‘We must find a way to change their minds,’ said Ryll.
‘They know nothing but war and if we take it away without giving them something else, they’ll be broken; people without a purpose. It’ll tear us apart. We matriarchs of the six cities have had much mindspeech on the topic this past year. We’re starting to try to shape the thinking of the progressives, like you …’
‘What about the warriors?’
‘The warriors too, as best we can,’ she said, ‘though with limited success. But they are disciplined and obedient to our edicts – in the void, anything else meant extinction. If all else fails, we will have to issue a Matriarchal Edict. It’s not been done since we made the decision to come out of the void, but I think they’ll obey. I think they’ll lay down their arms, but what happens after that I cannot say.’
‘We must replace our warrior culture with a sounder one, fitted for peace.’
‘With what we had before? How can we, Ryll?’
‘We can’t return to the past, Matriarch. All we can do is discover what we once were, and use the best of that heritage to shape our future here on Santhenar, after the war.’
Gyrull was smiling, and now she put an arm across his shoulders. ‘Your forethought constantly surprises me, Ryll. Come, let’s take a walk and you can tell me more.’
NINETEEN
‘How is he?’ said Nish from the doorway.
Four healers were gathered around the shrouded figure of Xervish Flydd, blocking Nish’s view, and he was reluctant to go closer for fear