The Usurper (37 page)

Chapter Thirty-One

“How kind of you to visit me in my humble quarters,” purred Sidonicus, Exarch of Telnar.

“I thought it unwise to decline your invitation,” said Iaachus, Arbiter of Protocol.

“You may kneel, and kiss my ring,” said Sidonicus.

“I think not,” said Iaachus.

“As you wish,” said Sidonicus. “You were somewhat late. Did you have difficulty negotiating the streets?”

“They are dangerous,” said Iaachus. “The riots.”

“Civil disturbances are most regrettable,” said the exarch.

“Perhaps you might resist the temptation of fomenting them,” said the Arbiter of Protocol.

“I assure you,” said Sidonicus, “I know nothing of them.”

“The temple of Orak, father of the gods, has been burned,” said Iaachus.

“A false god, of course,” said Sidonicus.

“A large and beautiful building,” said Iaachus. “Similarly, shrines, temples, and chapels have been rifled, offerings stolen, images defaced; devotees beaten; scroll houses have been forced, and scrolls torn apart, taken outside, and burned.”

“What is needful,” said Sidonicus, “is contained in the scrolls of Floon, in the holy books of Floon, in the canon. If what is in such scroll houses duplicates what is in the canon it is superfluous; if it contradicts what is in the canon, it is pernicious, and should be destroyed.”

“Statues have been pulled down, broken, and defiled,” said Iaachus, “those of Umba, Andrak, Foebus, and many others, even that of Kragon, the god of war.”

“We of the conversion of Floon,” said Sidonicus, “are gentle folk, lovers of peace, and holiness.”

“Two priests of Orak were killed in the streets,” said Iaachus, “torn apart, cut to pieces.”

“Better they had been converted,” said Sidonicus.

“What do you want?” asked Iaachus.

“Peace and holiness,” said Sidonicus.

“Worlds have fallen,” said Iaachus.

“Would you care for
kana
?” asked Sidonicus.

“We have called men to arms,” said Iaachus. “Old men, boys, beg for weapons. But many men decline service. They despair. They wait. Cowardice is hailed as patriotism, treason as service to the empire. Generals are threatened. Admirals have no ships. Aristocrats wallow in their luxuries, commoners hide, foundering in their comforts. Thousands of your Floonians not in the streets gather to sing hymns, will not touch a weapon.”

“Do not be surprised,” said Sidonicus. “Floon was a prophet of peace, of holy substance, indeed, identical with that of Karch, but different.”

“What do you want?” asked Iaachus, again.

“What we will have,” said Sidonicus. “The empire.”

“I think your private quarters,” said Iaachus, “are less humble than one would suppose for a ministrant, the drapes, the silken hangings, the silver and gold vessels, the golden candelabra, the paintings, the objects of art, the rich carpets, from Beyira II, if I am not mistaken, the giant replica, in gold, it seems, of a torture rack, covering a wall.”

“I pay no attention to such things personally,” said Sidonicus, “but I find them useful in impressing secular visitors.”

“Of a given station?” asked Iaachus.

“Certainly,” said Sidonicus, “lesser men expect simpler arrangements.”

“I am impressed,” said Iaachus.

“I expected you would be,” said the exarch.

“I see there is no tortured figure of Floon, portrayed in gold, on that rack on the wall,” said Iaachus. “I gather that is because when the current was turned on there would soon be little left but scraps of flesh clinging to the heated metal.”

“No,” said Sidonicus. “It has to do with the many species.”

“Floon was an Ogg,” said Iaachus.

“Strictly, in a sense,” said Sidonicus, “but we must remember that he was identical with Karch, as well as different. Thus, we think it best for every species to think of Floon as being of their own species. In this way it is easier to spread his holy teachings.”

“You are astute,” said Iaachus.

“The faith is astute,” said Sidonicus.

“You want the empire?” said Iaachus.

“And will have it,” said Sidonicus.

“You know my reputation?” said Iaachus.

“Of course,” said Sidonicus. “A master of intrigue, a subtle and unscrupulous monster of duplicity, an almost invisible mover of men and shaper of policies, such things.”

“And yet,” said Iaachus, “I could not even bring myself to think in your terms, let alone act in them, to lie, to trap minds, to promulgate superstition, to incite cruelty and violence, masquerading as right and justice.”

“Where the
koos
is concerned,” said Sidonicus, “one must not vacillate or compromise.”

“There is nothing in the teachings of Floon to condone or legitimize what you are doing,” said Iaachus. “He eschewed institutions. He preached simplicity. He seemed to love all things, rational creatures, irrational creatures, stars, moons, pebbles, weeds, all things, living and dead.”

“His teachings must be properly understood, of course,” said Sidonicus. “Also, there is unfolding revelation.”

“And who unfolds it?” asked Iaachus.

“Qualified ministrants,” said Sidonicus, “after prayer and fasting.”

“And who qualifies these qualified ministrants?”

“Other qualified ministrants.”

“And who qualifies them?” asked Iaachus.

“Surely you do not think this has anything to do with Floon,” said Sidonicus.

“No?” said Iaachus.

“No,” said Sidonicus, “Floon has nothing to do with this.”

“I see,” said Iaachus.

“I thought you would, eventually,” said Sidonicus.

“You shall not have the empire,” said Iaachus.

“I understand that your influence with the empress mother is waning,” said Sidonicus.

“Call back your people,” said Iaachus. “Free the streets.”

“Dogs, once unleashed,” said Sidonicus, “are often difficult to restrain.”

“I will have troops fire on them,” said Iaachus.

“And create a thousand martyrs?” asked the exarch.

“They are arsonists, looters, murderers,” said Iaachus.

“Floonians welcome martyrdom,” said the exarch. “It assures one a place at the table of Karch.”

“Perhaps you could become one such,” said Iaachus.

“As a humble man,” said the exarch, “I dare not aspire to so exalted a fate, so noble an end.”

“Even so,” said Iaachus.

“Touch me,” said the exarch, “and not only Telnar will burn, but the empire.”

“And how will you have the empire?” asked Iaachus.

“How would you like a million Floonians, on a hundred worlds, to take up arms on behalf of the empire?”

“I do not understand,” said Iaachus, “Floonians, as gentle, loving Floon, repudiate weaponry. They will die rather than bear arms. It is against their faith. They reject matters of the world. They live as parasites within walls built by, and defended by, others. They will not even look upon a standard or flag. They decline civic responsibility. They will not even participate in the councils of villages. They live for the
koos
, whatever that may be. They repudiate the gods of the empire, the ways of the empire. They have no love for the empire, no loyalty to the empire. They will not even burn a pinch of incense on the altar of the emperor.”

“A million Floonians on a hundred worlds,” smiled the exarch.

“You could do this?” asked Iaachus.

“Surely,” said the exarch. “Unfolding revelation.”

“I do not understand,” said Iaachus.

“You cannot expect Floonians to die for your empire,” said the exarch, “but, properly enlightened, suitably guided, they will die obediently, gladly, and unquestioningly for theirs.”

“For yours,” said Iaachus.

“If you wish,” said the exarch.

“Men will believe anything,” said Iaachus.

“Most,” said the exarch.

“The empire is to declare for Floon?” said Iaachus.

“The true faith,” said the exarch, “is to be the only faith. False faiths are to be banished.”

“Your views are to be spread by fire and sword?” asked Iaachus.

“Only where recalcitrance is met,” said the exarch.

“I see,” said Iaachus.

“It is a great wrong to spread a false faith by fire and sword, by the garrote and burning rack,” said the exarch, “but right to do so for the true faith. One must not risk men being misled. Superstition is pernicious. It places the
koos
in jeopardy. One must not, in so far as possible, risk the loss of a single
koos
.”

“And what is the relation of the state to the true faith in these matters?” asked Iaachus.

“It exists to do the work of the faith,” said the exarch. “The civil sword is to be unsheathed on behalf of the
koos
.”

“Soldiers are to gather faggots and ignite fires,” said Iaachus, “to hunt men like
filchen
, to redden blades you are too holy to touch.”

“You cannot expect ministrants of Floon to shed blood,” said the exarch.

“Only to have others do so, as they will have it done,” said Iaachus.

“There must be an order in things, a hierarchy,” said the exarch. “One must be first; one must be second. Accordingly, as the
koos
is highest, most holy, and supreme, it is to be first, and the state second. The secular sword is to be subordinate to the
koosian
sword.”

“There is no
koos
,” said Iaachus.

“It does not really matter, does it?” asked the exarch.

“I suppose not,” said Iaachus.

“Then go forth and conquer in the name of Floon,” said the exarch. “Go forth bravely, slaughtering and burning, singing hymns, doing righteous destruction on a thousand worlds.”

“And if we decline to accept this madness?”

“There are others who will,” said the exarch.

“Barbarians?” asked Iaachus.

“Possibly,” said the exarch.

“You will have the empire, even if it falls?” said Iaachus.

“Yes,” said the exarch. “Either way.”

“I shall return to the palace,” said Iaachus.

“Be careful in the streets,” said the exarch.

“I shall,” said the Arbiter of Protocol.

“Before you leave,” said Sidonicus, “you may kiss my ring.”

“I think not,” said Iaachus.

“Perhaps later,” said the exarch.

“I think not,” said Iaachus.

“As you wish,” said the exarch.

Chapter Thirty-Two

“It is so, Lord,” said Farrix.

“Does my father know?” inquired Ingeld.

“I think not, Lord,” said Farrix.

“I do not understand!” cried Ingeld. “Things were moving well. Pledges were made. Calendars were agreed upon. I had prepared rings to give. Now confusion reigns. The wretched Vandals are divided. Otungs will not move. Haakons and Darisi draw back. Basungs denounce us. Wolfungs will not rendezvous with our fleet.”

“Others hesitate, as well,” said Farrix. “Unaligned tribes now decline commitment. Neutral worlds refuse contact. Advance orders for thousands of Telnarian slaves are canceled. Consternation inhabits high offices. Curfews are established, roads patrolled, bridges closed. Administrations watch, and will not stir. And a thousand claimants to the medallion and chain struggle to summon troops, to lead movements.”

“A thousand claimants?” said Ingeld.

“Yes, Lord,” said Farrix.

He, Farrix, standing before the high seat of Ingeld, second son of Abrogastes, the Far Grasper, was a chieftain of the Teragar, or Long-River, Borkons. The Borkons were the third largest of the eleven tribes of the Alemanni nation, the second largest being the Dangars. There were several branches of the Borkons, the largest being the Lidanian, or Coastal, Borkons.

“And none will follow?”

“He who would follow one leader cannot follow a thousand.”

“I do not understand,” said Ingeld.

“Are you sure you possess the authentic talisman, the authentic medallion and chain?” asked Farrix.

“How can you ask that?” said Ingeld, angrily.

“I cast no aspersions, I perform no treason,” said Farrix. “But, as a chieftain of the Borkons, of the Teragar, I do ask it. Are you sure you possess the authentic talisman, the authentic medallion and chain?”

“Yes!” said Ingeld. “It was stolen from the
festung
of Sim Giadini by an Otung, Urta, after which the
festung
was destroyed, that the manner of its acquisition be concealed. It was then delivered to the Exarch of Telnar, one named Sidonicus. One of his subordinates, a legate and plenipotentiary, a ministrant named Fulvius, contacted me. Agreements were reached. Arrangements were made. The talisman was delivered here, to this hall, less than a month ago.”

“Here, Lord,” said Farrix, reaching within his cloak, and drawing forth a handful of dangling metal, “are two such medallions and chains.”

“They are false!” cried Ingeld.

“Undoubtedly, Lord,” said Farrix, “but these, and a thousand others, or more, on a hundred worlds, are proclaimed to be the one and only talisman of the Vandal nation. It is little wonder then that confusion abounds, that the Drisriaks are denounced, derided, and mocked. Who, who know little of these things, is in a position to know the authentic talisman? Vandals, wary of the Alemanni, were reluctant to begin with, to follow a Drisriak. And now, confronted with a thousand or more alleged talismans, in a thousand or more pairs of hands, what are they to do? Surely they will not call their fellows forth from the forests, will not march, will not man their ships. Vandals are no more willing to be deceived than we of the Alemanni, and they are certainly unwilling, in particular, to be our dupes. They speak of deceit, of trickery. Let us fear that the dreaded Vandals do not now plunge themselves into the arms of our enemies.”

“It is I who have been tricked,” said Ingeld.

“I have no doubt you possess the authentic talisman,” said Farrix, “but it is not difficult to understand doubt on the part of others.”

“It is not wise to trick Ingeld, of the Drisriaks,” said Ingeld.

“It seems, Lord,” said Farrix, “that it was not you alone who was treated so shabbily, so disgracefully, but others, as well, this Sidonicus, of Telnar, this Fulvius, of Telnar, and doubtless other members of their party.”

“I shall have this Urta, a renegade Otung, this Fulvius, a pompous ministrant, torn apart, by horses, by wild horses.”

“It is not you alone who were duped, Lord,” said Farrix.

“I, Ingeld, of the Drisriaks, of the Alemanni, duped?” said Ingeld.

“Forgive me, Lord,” said Farrix. “I spoke carelessly. You were not duped, but betrayed.”

“Men now mock the Drisriaks?” asked Ingeld.

“I fear so, Lord,” said Farrix.

“Does my father know of this?” asked Ingeld.

“I do not think so, Lord,” said Farrix.

“Good,” said Ingeld.

“How proceed things with my beloved father?” asked Ingeld.

“His forces are well deployed,” said Farrix. “In effect, Telnaria is blockaded. It is dangerous at this time to move more quickly. Lord Abrogastes awaits reinforcements. His agents are active in Telnaria. They celebrate Abrogastes as a liberator. Many prepare to welcome him, with garlands and flowers. I think he is readying himself for a landing.”

“Surely there are imperial forces about,” said Ingeld.

“They are scattered, many are posted on far worlds.”

“My father is in the vicinity of Telnaria itself?”

“He forced a passage,” said Farrix. “He penetrated defenses. I think few expected him to avoid engagements, and move decisively to Telnaria itself.”

“He is a fool,” said Ingeld. “The war was to be fought on a thousand fields. No foe was to be left behind us. It was for this we needed the Vandals and our allies. He has put himself in a trap.”

“He has moved boldly,” said Farrix.

“How will this destroy the empire?” asked Ingeld.

“I fear, Lord,” said Farrix, “mighty Abrogastes does not wish to destroy the empire, but to possess it.”

“By seizing Telnaria?” said Ingeld.

“By seizing Telnar, the capital, by seizing the throne,” said Farrix.

“He must be mad,” said Ingeld.

“If he seizes the throne,” said Farrix, “he seizes the capital, if he seizes the capital, he seizes Telnaria, if he seizes Telnaria, he seizes the empire.”

“He embarks upon a dangerous course,” said Ingeld.

“He is Abrogastes,” said Farrix.

“If he fails?” asked Ingeld.

“What then?” asked Farrix.

“Ingeld is first amongst the Drisriaks,” said Ingeld.

“Precisely, Lord,” said Farrix.

“Perhaps mighty Abrogastes will fail,” said Ingeld.

“It is possible, Lord,” said Farrix.

“Perhaps it can be arranged,” said Ingeld.

“It is possible, Lord,” said Farrix.

“I shall not forget my faithful servitors, my liegemen,” said Ingeld.