The Tides of Avarice Read Online Free Page B

barely a lemming left who cared about their people’s roots.
    â€œYou don’t know where you’re heading if you don’t know where you’ve come from,” said Celadon.
    â€œIf you say so, sir.”
    â€œAnd this invaluable document tells us so much about where we’ve come from.”
    â€œUm,” said Sylvester, but Celadon didn’t notice.
    â€œYou see,” the old lemming carried on, getting into the spirit of his own oratory, “we lemmings of Foxglove may well be the last lemmings of all, but we’re a proud species, dear boy, and we’re destined for greatness.” He began to make a sweeping gesture with his arm to the sleepy town of Foxglove beyond the window, then realized he was about to drop the scrolls. Clutching them hurriedly, he instead nodded his head toward the outside world. “The great spirit Lhaeminguas himself said we are destined for all-encompassing glory, when he wrote in … in … a very long time ago, anyway.”
    â€œIn the year 362,” said Sylvester quietly.
    â€œI was just about to say that. 362. You have a remarkable memory, young Sylvester. Nothing escapes you, eh?”
    Sylvester bowed his head modestly. “Thank you, sir. I know how lucky I was to be born with a memory as retentive as mine. Not everyone’s so fortunate.”
    â€œIt’s a rare and wonderful gift.”
    â€œBut a gift,” Sylvester stressed, under his breath. It wasn’t something he’d gone out and earned. All very well to be born clever. If he wanted to attract the approval of Viola, he’d have to do something a bit more exciting with his cleverness than translate a dusty old document she was never going to read anyway.
    Aloud he said, “One thing’s been troubling me, sir.”
    â€œYes?”
    â€œThe Great Exodus doesn’t really tell us very much about where we’ve come from – it doesn’t tell us anything about that at all, in fact. What it does tell us is that in the old days a whole lot of lemmings went away, and they never came back. Where do you think they all went to, sir?”
    Celadon whuffed and tut-tutted, and once again looked as if he were desperate to find somewhere he could put the scrolls down.
    â€œYou know, boy,” he said when at last he had his words under control, “that’s most assuredly not the kind of question it’s proper to ask. You know the old saying, ‘Ours not to reason why, ours not to search and spy or try to pry, ours not to—’ Oh my. Where was I?”
    â€œTelling me not to be curious about our roots, sir.”
    â€œWas I? Oh, yes. What I was trying to tell you, Sylvester, is that you and I are in a way merely the humble servants of those great lemming forefathers of ours who ventured forth into the world to seek their fortunes. They were great travelers and explorers and it is our duty, here in this library of lemming lore and history, to honor their valor and their deeds.”
    â€œBut what were their deeds, sir? So far as we know, they set off for the edge of the Mighty Enormous Cliff. That’s what The Great Exodus tells us, listing hundreds and thousands of the names of those who went, and so do other ancient documents we store here. They set off for the edge of the Mighty Enormous Cliff and they never came back. They just disappeared, exactly like those of their forebears who left in the First Attempt and the Second – and, for that matter, later, in the Fourth, and Fifth and Five Hundred and Fifty-Fifth. They all just … go. We don’t know what happened to them. From what we can tell, they just go straight over the edge of the cliff, and then …”
    â€œDon’t disturb yourself so, my boy,” said Celadon soothingly, finally dropping his scrolls on the floor and coming round behind Sylvester’s desk to put his arm across the younger lemming’s shoulder. “I’m sure