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Back Iron Winter Save as PDF
Chapters (89)
  1. Title page
  2. Contents
  3. Map
  4. ONE
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. TWO
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. THREE
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. 53
  60. 54
  61. 55
  62. 56
  63. 57
  64. 58
  65. 59
  66. 60
  67. 61
  68. 62
  69. 63
  70. 64
  71. 65
  72. 66
  73. 67
  74. 68
  75. 69
  76. FOUR
  77. 70
  78. 71
  79. 72
  80. 73
  81. 74
  82. 75
  83. 76
  84. 77
  85. 78
  86. 79
  87. Afterword
  88. By Stephen Baxter
  89. Copyright

He laughed, slapped his thigh, and sat back. ‘Very good. If you have the relics before we leave, you come with us. If not, you stay. You can show yourself out.’ He turned away from her, and began to speak to his wife in his own thick tongue.

She stood and left the apartment, unescorted. She thought of Pyxeas. She had taken his advice in the end, she was fleeing to the south, just as he had recommended. But now she wished with all her heart she had taken her children with her when she had escorted him last year to Hantilios – and wished she had never been foolish enough to come back.

25

It had seemed a long winter, so far from home. But at last the morning came when Pyxeas’ party was to leave Akka, and resume the journey east to Cathay.

Akka was a spacious, handsome town of wide straight streets and stout sandstone buildings, on the easternmost shore of the Middle Sea. Uzzia had brought them here across the ocean from Hantilios when the winter relented, and she had spent the months since scouring the city’s tiny, crowded harbour for berths on a ship going east. The ocean had its own hazards, Uzzia told them, but a journey by sea was a much more feasible way for Pyxeas to travel to far Cathay, rather than to jolt his bones overland. But there were no berths to be had; the whole world was going through a tremendous convulsion, and there were too many precious cargoes to be shipped from one place to another to make room for an old man. So overland it would be, they had reluctantly decided in the end.

Even Pyxeas had agreed that the journey could not be attempted before the winter was done, but he had spent the whole season fretting with impatience, even while he buried himself in his studies. Avatak suspected he had seen nothing of this place – this beautiful town with the rich Arab-Muslim culture of its latest owners laid over a deep history, all of it utterly unlike anything Avatak had encountered before. Avatak, though, had immersed himself. Now, this early morning, Avatak stood beside the clean stone wall of one of the many mosques that dominated the city. The sun was still low, barely risen over the eastern horizon, but already he could feel its heat on his face and bare arms, a promise of noon.

And here was Uzzia, walking up to him, wearing her quilted coat, a heavy pack on her back, her whip in her hand. There was a strength, a stillness about her, Avatak had thought since he’d got to know her, stillness and solidity. Which was reassuring, since he was going to have to rely on her to get him and Pyxeas safely through the unknowable days to come.