The Usurper (46 page)

Chapter Forty-Two

“Release me!” said blond Viviana, princess of Telnaria, perhaps in her early twenties.

And Alacida, younger, perhaps by a year or two, a brunette, pulled against the grip on her arm, which she could not break.

They were released, with a swirl of their robes, before the throne, on which reposed Abrogastes, king of the Drisriaks.

“How dare you, barbarous ape,” cried Viviana, “sit upon the throne of my glorious brother, Aesilesius?”

“Your glorious brother,” said Abrogastes, “is content, playing with his toys.”

“Depart,” said Viviana.

“Thrones are made to be sat upon, Princess,” said Abrogastes. “The only question is who shall sit upon them.”

“I command you,” cried Viviana. “Go!”

“Commands without power are at best requests,” said Abrogastes.

“Then, noble king,” said Iaachus, “with all gentleness and courtesy, I bid you pay heed to the request of Princess Viviana.”

“I do not request!” cried Viviana. “I command. Go. Depart!”

“We shall depart shortly, Princess,” said Abrogastes.

“Good!” she said, stamping her small, slippered foot.

“May I inquire,” asked Iaachus, “for what purpose the princesses have been brought forth?”

“To inform them of their good fortune,” said Abrogastes.

“I do not understand,” said Iaachus.

“We are standing, you are seated,” said Viviana to Abrogastes, angrily. “This is insupportable. We are regal, of the blood royal, you are base. My sister and I will now ascend the dais and take our proper places, on the princess thrones. And they should be, even if they are not, on a level well above you!”

There were only four seats in the throne room, by design. There was the throne of the emperor, which was broad-armed and splendid, and draped with purple, and, beside it, on the right, but slightly behind it, the throne of the empress mother, similarly splendid. The two princess thrones, somewhat simpler, were to the left of the imperial throne, and set one level beneath it. Such arrangements, levels, the limitation of chairs, and such, are not unusual in situations where rank, distance, and hierarchy are deemed significant. For example, who would dare to sit, unbidden, in, say, the presence of a king?

“Remain standing,” said Abrogastes.

Viviana and Alacida arrested their approach to the thrones. This action was doubtless influenced by the menacing attitudes of the several barbarians who placed themselves between the princesses and their projected destination.

“There,” said Abrogastes, who, with the barrel of his pistol, indicated where they were to stand, on the ground level, so to speak, to his left.

“We will not stand near that despicable beast,” said Viviana, “a chained, unclothed slave.”

“She is not unclothed,” said Abrogastes. “She is tunicked.”

“Unclothed,” said Viviana.

“Forgive us, great king,” said Iaachus, “but slaves in the palace, though commonly bare-armed and barefoot, that their worthlessness and meaninglessness be made clear, are commonly modestly gowned, in ankle-length garments of white wool, white silk, white
corton
, or such.”

“Slaves should be clad as slaves, as men like to see them,” said Abrogastes.

“It is not the way of the palace,” said Iaachus.

“Remain where you are,” said Abrogastes to the princesses.

“Very well,” said Viviana, tossing her head, looking away.

“Dear Princess,” said Iaachus, “your boldness well befits a princess, or a fool, but be apprised of the nature of our situation. We are defenseless, we are in the power of these men; our fortunes, our lives, are in their hands.”

“Until our soldiers come,” said Viviana, “until our ships fill the skies!”

“Doubtless,” said Iaachus, “but our soldiers have not yet come, nor do our ships yet fill the skies.”

“I think the princesses need to be instructed,” said Abrogastes.

“Surely not!” exclaimed Iaachus.

Julian moved forward, but was stayed by the hand of Otto, king of the Otungs.

“Do not be concerned,” said Abrogastes. “I do not mean instructed as a slave is instructed, with the switch and whip, with tight ropes, with close chains, with the bit, and such, but as free women of refinement, of gentleness and station, might be instructed.”

“I encourage you to withdraw, great king,” said Iaachus, “time is short.”

“Go forth, into the city,” said Abrogastes, with a gesture of his pistol. “Fetch forth a handful of slaves!”

“There are few easily about, Lord,” said a Borkon. “Our presence in the city is well known. Within the city, men hide; they crouch in cellars; they inhabit sewers; they remain indoors, with bolted portals and shutters; they secrete coins beneath the floors and in the walls; they conceal slaves; outside the city, roads are crowded with refugees, fleeing, laden with goods.”

“Four or five will do,” said Abrogastes, “tunicked.”

Several men rushed from the tiled, high-vaulted throne room.

“Great king,” said Iaachus.

“I hear you, he who would speak for the throne,” said Abrogastes.

“How,” asked Iaachus, “were the two batteries, both well supplied, both potent and lethal, to which the security of Telnar was entrusted, disabled?”

“They should have burned anything out of the sky which came within ten thousand miles of the city,” said Julian, angrily. “How did you obtain the signals, the passwords?”

“Or how did you smuggle dire explosives into the firing enclaves undetected?” asked Iaachus.

“The batteries were not disabled,” said Abrogastes, “though they are now disabled, and repairs, I assure you, will not be speedily or easily accomplished. And we needed know nothing of signals and passwords.”

“Subversion, then,” said Otto, “not sabotage.”

“The battery coordinator was picked by me,” said Iaachus, bitterly, “and the captain of each battery, as well, men I trusted, who performed secret deeds, attending even to a private commission on a far world, men who, through me, received the thanks and rewards of a grateful state.”

“The subtle, yellow whispers of gold are often persuasive,” said Otto.

Iaachus suddenly turned to Otto.

“I understand,” he said. “It is all now clear.”

“Gold?” said Otto.

“Fear,” said Iaachus.

“Arbiter?” asked Julian.

“I should have realized the danger,” said Iaachus.

“When?” asked Julian.

“As soon as I glimpsed Ottonius, captain of auxiliaries, chieftain of Wolfungs, king of Otungs.”

“I do not understand,” said Julian.

“He was recognized, on Tangara,” said Iaachus.

“I do not understand,” said Julian.

“Ho!” called Abrogastes, heartily. “You have been successful.”

Two of his men approached, emerging from amongst several others. One, the free end of the rope in his possession, led forward a coffle of four neck-roped, tunicked slaves. The other conducted forward a single slave, also tunicked, holding her by the left, upper arm. Her hands were tied behind her. She was blond. All the slaves seemed filled with trepidation. Surely such as they, common slaves, would never expect to be brought into a palace. And they were doubtless, too, well aware of how they now found themselves, slaves in the keeping of barbarians. Who could conceive of the terror of having a barbarian Master? Were they not aware of how barbarians might see, and treat, slaves, particularly slaves of the empire? They were knelt in a row, these five, four on the neck rope, one separate, on the tiles before the throne. One, a blonde, she who was separate, threw her hair forward, and down, as she could, about her features, and kept her head down, almost as though she might be unwilling to let her features be seen.

“Behold,” said Abrogastes, to Viviana and Alacida, standing below, like commoners, on the tiles, on his left, “women, as they should be.”

“Slaves!” said Viviana, scornfully.

“Yes, slaves,” said Abrogastes.

“And what instruction are we supposed to receive from this exhibition?” asked Viviana.

“You, pretty Alacida,” said Abrogastes, “you do not speak.”

“I am afraid to speak, Lord,” she said.

“It seems you are wiser than your sister,” said Abrogastes.

“Do not call him ‘Lord',” said Viviana.

“He is a lord,” she said, “amongst barbarians.”

“Look upon these slaves,” said Abrogastes, “and be instructed.”

“And what am I to learn from half-naked slaves?” asked Viviana.

“Behold how generously they are clad,” said Abrogastes.

“In scarce a scrap of cloth,” she said.

“Still,” said Abrogastes.

“I do not understand,” said Viviana.

“Many women of the empire,” said Abrogastes, “serve naked in our halls, in locked collars, barefoot, in the dirt and rushes, hurrying about our tables, serving meat and
bror
, hoping not to be switched. Many, naked, neck-ringed, tend our huts, serve in our fields, care for our pigs, weave in the women's quarters, are slept at our feet.”

“What has this to do with us?” asked Viviana.

Otto, unable to restrain himself, burst out in a great laugh.

“Ho, Otung,” said Abrogastes. “I see you have considered these supposedly noble creatures as what they are, mere females.”

“Yes, Lord,” said Otto. “And even, long ago, in a summer palace. Even then I wondered, doubtless as have many others, what they might look like, stripped and collared, kneeling, bent down, their lips pressed to a Master's feet.”

“Beast! Beast!” cried Viviana.

“Viviana,” said Abrogastes.

“Do not presume to use my name, barbarian,” said Viviana. “Address me as ‘Princess'.”

“Viviana,” said Abrogastes, “say ‘I, Viviana, princess of Telnaria, am the captive of Abrogastes, the Drisriak. I understand that he can do with me as he wishes.'”

“Never!” said Viviana.

“Very well,” said Abrogastes, “strip her, and whip her.”

“No, no!” said Viviana. “I, Viviana, princess of Telnaria, am the captive of Abrogastes, the Drisriak. I understand that he can do with me as he wishes.”

“And you, pretty Alacida?” asked Abrogastes.

“I,” she said, “Alacida, princess of Telnaria, am the captive of Abrogastes, the Drisriak. I understand that he can do with me as he wishes.”

“I think, now,” said Abrogastes, “we understand one another.”

“Imperial fleets close,” said Julian. “I do not understand why you linger.”

“Perhaps,” said Iaachus, “we should do our best to delay your departure.”

“I do not linger,” said Abrogastes. “I conduct my business with dispatch.”

“May I inquire,” said Iaachus, “what is the king's business?”

“Why,” said Abrogastes, “to inform the princesses of their good fortune.”

“I see no good fortune in this,” said Viviana, “lest it be to observe your immediate departure.”

“In Telnaria, as I understand it,” said Abrogastes, “it is the custom, in triumphs, to parade captive queens through the streets in chains of gold.”

“It has been done,” said Iaachus.

“In what you call barbarian worlds,” said Abrogastes, “it is customary to place them in chains of iron and teach them to juice at a man's glance.”

“Despicable beast!” said Viviana.

“Have the engines warmed!” called Abrogastes. “We depart!”

A susurration of satisfaction coursed amongst the intruders. Who knew if the timing of captains was inerrant? It takes a finite amount of time for a string-sprung arrow, a fired charge, a falling bomb to reach its point of impact. It is not well, obviously, to misjudge the interval.

Several men rushed from the room.

“Go!” cried Viviana, pointing to the great portal of the throne room. “Go!”

“Gather up the princesses,” said Abrogastes, “put them in the carts, outside.”

Rude hands were placed upon the royal bodies.

“Unhand us!” cried Viviana.

“You are coming with us, princesses,” said Abrogastes.

“No!” cried Viviana.

Alacida wept, struggling in the grasp of a barbarian.

“I now inform you of your good fortune,” said Abrogastes. “You will be brides for my sons.”

Chapter Forty-Three

“No, no, never!” cried Viviana.

Telnarians surged forward, but stopped, short, menaced by leveled rifles. They clenched their fists, helpless.

“Brides for my sons,” laughed Abrogastes, slapping the arm of the throne with his left hand.

“No, never!” cried Viviana. “My sister and I will never consent! You cannot enforce such an outrage upon us!”

“Then I will have you sold as sluts on a mud world,” said Abrogastes.

Viviana threw her hand before her face, in horror, as though some physical, monstrous thing had intruded itself upon her sight. Alacida was limp, lapsed unconscious within the grasp of the warrior who held her.

“Put them in the carts,” said Abrogastes, “and hie to the ships, with all speed.”

Viviana was dragged screaming from the throne room, and Alacida, unconscious, was borne away in the arms of her keeper.

“Great king,” cried Iaachus, “no priest, no ministrant, no judge, no official, no captain of a vessel, not of sea or air, or space, would officiate at such a marriage!”

“Thousands would do so,” said Abrogastes.

“The empire would not recognize it,” said Iaachus. “It would not be sanctioned by the senate!”

“The senate will sanction whatever it is told to sanction,” said Abrogastes.

“Such a marriage would be spurious,” said Iaachus.

“Not if done at the behest of the princesses,” said Abrogastes.

Abrogastes then stood, holstering the pistol. He then adjusted the purple draping on the throne, regarded it for a moment, and then turned and descended to the level of the tiles. He paused to glance at the five kneeling, tunicked slaves, four on a neck rope, and one with her head down and her hands bound behind her back.

“What shall we do with these, Lord?” asked a Drisriak.

“Leave them,” said Abrogastes. “They have served their purpose.”

He then strode from the room.

A barbarian, a Dangar, lifted up Huta, in her chains, and carried her, following Abrogastes. Most of the barbarians then left the chamber. Those who held Iaachus, Julian, Otto, and the others at bay backed away a few feet, and then turned, and, too, left the chamber. One could already hear the readying of engines from beyond the great portal.

“What can be done?” asked Julian.

“Little, at present,” said Iaachus.

“Surely the plan of Abrogastes is mad,” said Julian.

“Not at all, my noble friend,” said Iaachus. “I fear he has researched the matter with care. He is doubtless better informed of the rules of dynastic succession than many jurists. The princesses may not sit upon the throne, but, if they bore male issue, their issue would be next in line to the throne. If Emperor Aesilesius should abdicate, or, Orak forbid, in some way meet his end, perhaps as did his father, and his grandfather, the son of either Viviana or Alacida, whichever was first born, would be emperor.”

“And the regent then, governing in the emperor's minority, would be Abrogastes,” said Julian.

“Or one of his sons,” said Iaachus.

“Confusion would be rampant,” said Julian. “Incipient revolution would be abetted, secession would be invited, invasion welcomed.”

“The empire might be divided a dozen ways,” said Iaachus.

“Civil war would ensue,” said Otto.

“The empire, divided against itself,” said Julian, “would do work on which a dozen armed barbarian nations could not improve.”

“And then,” said Otto, “the Lion Ships return.”

“And,” said Iaachus, “the empire becomes, in essence, barbarian.”

“Alemanni,” said Otto.

“Beasts, unrestrained, befouling temples, swarming in sacred precincts,” said Julian.

“Already,” said Iaachus, “this is the fate of more than one world.”

“Imperial fleets should arrive shortly,” said Julian.

“And find no trace of Abrogastes, save in Telnar,” said Otto.

“The game is not done,” said Julian.

“No, it is not yet done,” said Otto.

“Remove those slaves,” said Iaachus. “Filthy, tunicked sluts have no place here, where emperors receive ambassadors and hold court.”

“Yes, Lord,” said a courtier.

“Wait!” said Iaachus. “Why does that slave conceal her features?”

Cornhair, her hair about her face, put her head down, to the tiles.

“Get her head up, where I may see her!” said Iaachus.

The courtier put his hand in her hair, and yanked her head up, and held it back, tightly, far back.

Iaachus rushed forward, and stopped.

“You!” said Iaachus.

“Forgive me, Master!” said Cornhair.

“Obviously she failed,” said Julian, “to assassinate my friend.”

“It seems you know a great deal, friend Julian,” said Iaachus.

“Enough, Arbiter,” said Julian.

“I think you would find it difficult to expose me and have me executed,” said Iaachus.

“Certainly,” said Julian. “Evidence is muchly lacking. And what exists would be challenged, or discounted. Too, I have little doubt that your plan, if disclosed, would have been supported by certain elements in high places, as judicious, warranted statecraft.”

“Covert actions are sometimes in order,” said Iaachus.

“Doubtless,” said Julian.

“Perhaps you will now attempt to arrange another assassination,” said Iaachus, “one which might prove more successful.”

“One in your position is always in danger,” said Julian.

“And perhaps one in yours,” said Iaachus.

“I would prefer you as an ally, not as an enemy,” said Julian.

“That may not be wise,” said Iaachus.

“Perhaps not,” said Julian.

“You came here to kill me,” said Iaachus.

“No,” said Julian. “I came here in good faith, as I said, and, as I said, to inform and be informed. I hoped that we might consult together, perhaps enleaguing ourselves, to the benefit of the empire.”

“You have designs upon the throne,” said Iaachus.

“If so,” said Julian, “only to save the empire. The emperor is a mindless child.”

“Was he always so?” asked Otto.

“That is a strange question,” said Iaachus.

“I ask it,” said Otto.

“From an early age, surely,” said Iaachus.

“Who governs?” asked Otto.

“Essentially the empress mother,” said Iaachus.

“But you advised, you had her ear,” said Julian.

“Once,” said Iaachus. “I fear not now.”

“She now attends to the Exarch of Telnar?” said Julian.

“I fear so,” said Iaachus.

Iaachus then turned to the slaves. “Take those four away, those on the neck rope,” he said. “They have collars. It should be easy to return them to their Masters. If there is any difficulty, sell them.”

“Yes, Lord,” said a courtier, and led the small coffle away.

Iaachus then turned to Cornhair.

“Release her hair,” he said.

The courtier removed his hand from Cornhair's hair, and she thrust her head to the tiles at Iaachus' feet.

“Lady Publennia,” said Iaachus.

“I am not Lady Publennia, Master,” she said. “I am a slave.”

“What is your name, slave?” he asked.

“Whatever Masters wish,” she said.

“What were you most recently called?” he asked.

“‘Cornhair', Master,” she said.

“That is a good name for you,” he said, “given the particular shade of your blond hair.”

“Thank you, Master,” she said.

“You seem considerably different from when I last saw you,” he said.

“I am a slave, Master,” she said.

“Are you marked?”

“Yes, Master,” she said.

He then bent down and pulled up the brief tunic, at her left side.

“Nicely marked,” he said. “Tastefully.”

“Thank you, Master.”

“Unmistakably.”

“Yes, Master.”

“You have no collar,” he said.

“It was taken,” she said.

“I was told,” he said, “that your colleagues were unable to extricate you from the imperial camp on Tangara.”

“They made no effort to do so,” she said.

“They left you to the mercy of Otungs,” he said.

“Yes, Master.”

“I was informed you were successful in your mission,” he said.

“I failed, Master,” she said. “Those who abandoned me, whom you call my colleagues, doubtless presumed I had succeeded, or would succeed, in my task.”

“They fled.”

“Yes, Master.”

“I am surprised you were not tortured and slain,” said Iaachus.

“I owe my life to Captain Ottonius,” she said. “I was spared, to be sold. I was sold for a pig to Heruls.”

“I did not know you failed until this afternoon,” said Iaachus.

“Others doubtless knew, Arbiter,” said Julian. “Captain Ottonius was actively engaged in recruiting, and training, allies. There was, too, doubtless communication between Tangara and Telnaria, probably through the Floonian enclave in Venitzia, the provincial capital on Tangara. I can well understand the dismay on the part of those you call her colleagues when they realized that Captain Ottonius lived, particularly following, I suppose, their assurances to you that the deed had been successfully completed.”

“Much was kept from me,” said Iaachus.

“They must live in terror,” said Julian, “knowing that the truth, which is publicly known, which is widely known, must, sooner or later, come to your attention.”

“Today it has,” said Iaachus, “and much else has become clear, as well.”

“What shall we do with this slave, Lord?” asked the courtier who stood near Cornhair, he who had held her head up, that her features might be exposed to the inspection of the Arbiter.

“What shall be done with you, slave?” inquired Iaachus.

“It will be done with me as Masters please,” she whispered.

“You tremble,” said Iaachus.

“Forgive me, Master,” she said.

“You are well tied, are you not?” he asked.

“Yes, Master,” she said. “I am helpless.”

“Then,” said he, “get up, run, flee, hasten, go, out into the city.”

“Master?” she said.

“Have no fear,” he said. “You will not be mistaken for a free woman.”

Cornhair bent down and thrust her lips to the Arbiter's shoes, kissed them, several times, weeping, half hysterical with gratitude, and then sprang up and ran from the chamber.

“The Arbiter is merciful,” said Julian.

“It is not important,” said Iaachus. “She is only a slave.”

“How did the father of the emperor die?” asked Otto.

“What does it matter?” asked Julian.

“I am curious,” said Otto.

“Poison,” said Iaachus. “And his father, the grandfather of Aesilesius, by assassination.”

“Such things in the empire,” said Julian, “are not unusual. The corridors in which power walks are often dark.”

“I think,” said Otto, “I will visit the emperor.”

“Why?” asked Julian.

“To pay my respects,” said Otto.

“On what grounds?” asked Iaachus.

“As king of the Otungs,” said Otto.

“Take a toy,” said Julian.

“I do not think so,” said Otto.

“I do not understand,” said Julian.

“A king does not bring a toy to an emperor,” said Otto.

He then turned away.

“Hold, dear Ottonius,” said Julian.

Otto paused.

“I have a question for the Arbiter,” said Julian. “I would like for you to listen.”

“I listen,” said Otto.

Julian then turned to Iaachus. “Who, dear friend,” said he, “is in charge of the city batteries?”

“There is a coordinator of batteries,” said Iaachus, “and two captains, one in charge of each battery. The coordinator's and the captain's names will be, I am sure, familiar to at least our friend, Captain Ottonius. The coordinator's name is ‘Phidias'. The two captains are named ‘Lysis' and ‘Corelius'.”

“Yes,” said Otto. “The names are familiar.”