THE GOD BOX
Page 24
"Yes. You have my word on that."
"If your word proves to be false, I'll have your tongue." Tretia thought for a moment, then nodded and clasped her hands as she tried to force herself to slow down with the butnuts. "Take it. I'll have one made that isn't quite so drab. Would a god box of hammered gold work?"
"Certainly, Your Eminence."
The priestess raised her eyebrows. "Is there anything else?"
As I remarked at the beginning of my story, I am always looking for more efficient ways to increase my fortune. There I was in the center of opportunity, and I could not resist. I pointed at the floor. "Would I be too bold if I asked for one of these snapping heads?"
She glanced at the floor, ate another butnut, and gave a tiny shrug. "Not at all. I'll have it pickled for you so it will keep until you return. If you fail to return, I'll have you pickled."
"Thank you, Your Eminence."
"I will even throw in one of those bodies as well. Just bring me more of those nuts."
"I will, Your Eminence."
With an annoyed expression she looked about the chamber. "Where are my guards? Find one of my guards, if you can, and have him show you out."
"Thank you, Your Eminence." I bowed and backed from the room.
Certainly Tretia stank. Just as certainly everyone but the priestess will know it. Who will ever grow the courage to shout this information to Tretia, for no one will ever get close enough to whisper. And now I was Korvas the wealthy importer of exotic delicacies, by special appointment of Her Eminence, Tretia, advisor to His Majesty Ticron VII.
Of course she was responsible for my father's death and the deaths of many others. Her sudden death, however, wouldn't bring my father back or bring freedom to Iskandar. Her murder would probably only raise another serpent from the slime. This way Tretia was curbed, the people could rise above their fears, and I suddenly found myself with a new line of profitable work. Not what I had imagined, but I have learned not to question the will of the gods.
When I stepped through the gated entrance to the King's palace and was once again in the sunshine, I began laughing. I was well into the Mystic Mountains three days later before I could stop. My ribs hurt like sin itself.
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AFTERWORD
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Here I stand before you, my patient listeners, and soon my assistant Ruuter will open the doors and set you free, for I am at the end of my tale of The God Box.
What did you say, fellow? Yes, I imagine there are more than a few of you who are wondering about loose ends. This fellow asks why the commander of the Nant Guard, Meru, paid the Dagas storyteller fifty gold reels to keep his secrets? This one down front wants to know why Sergeant Rosh didn't warn us that Shadows was coming when we were in the Blackwood? That lady in back wants to know what of the Silk Ghost and the underwater empire of Ilanyia?
I cannot answer your questions. To be honest, which I must, I do not know the answers. In one reality Ilanyia and its beautiful queen exist. In another reality the Itkah refugees drowned as they were driven into the sea. In still a third reality, the Itkahs defeated the invaders from the north and there never was a city called Iskandar. Ah, you laugh, but I speak the truth.
You see, when I returned to the Dagas to complete the story for Bachudowah in exchange for her plum-sized diamond, she put the story before her people and because of that went down in legend as a goddess. Every single one of the Dagas now carries some sort of god box. But in another reality they hissed and laughed at her. In still another I never returned to complete the tale because I died.
It is not important to snip off these loose ends. Too firm a grip upon what one calls reality, and being too grasping for exact answers to every little this and that, makes one very dull. More than that, it places one in a self-constructed and self-maintained prison.
Somewhere in this universe of universes, I am a King, and this knowledge makes me more tolerant of the kings I see in this world. Somewhere I am a slave, and this knowledge makes me treat the slaves I meet in this world with kindness and dignity. Somewhere I am still selling crawling carpets to stupid magicians, and somewhere else I am a god patiently waiting for someone to ask for what he or she needs so I can help.
We are all of us all of these things. If you do not believe me, that is your choice. However, for those of you with a bit of daring and the humility to open your mind to the possibility that you alone are not the power of your universe, make yourself a god box, place the power of the entire universe at your fingertips, and discover all of your many selves. Whether you name your patron on the box or leave it blank as I do, always you will get what you need.
Now, when I began my tale I said that I would tell you about a great hero, a beautiful maiden, a great villain, and how Captain Shadows came to be in these jugs. Although there were several beautiful maidens in my story, the one to which I referred in my opening was, of course, the divine Abrina. I fear that I am not the hero. The hero is this little box, and the god or gods that work through its drawers, for the villain was neither Shadows nor the Heterin priestess who held his leash. The villain was fear. Hence, the villain was defeated and the hero got the girl, in a manner of speaking. But wait, there is more.
You may often question why you need what you receive from your god box. I did many times as I traveled from the Dagas's lair past the no-longer-extant Shrine to Mankua to the Valley of the Omergunts to obtain more butnuts to keep the world free. I questioned because I still felt a pain in my heart where Abrina's love should have been. Manku is off souring milk, growing mold on loaves of bread, blowing up stars, and killing off the innocent along with the guilty, Abrina waiting for him at the end of his day.
While Coul and his companions cried the butnuts off the trees, I turned my horse up the Blackwood Trail. That was where, deep in the Blackwood, I met my former guide and current assistant Ruuter working at the sawmill. He had no memory of our time together, or of guiding us through the mountains. That was when I had the idea of putting Captain Shadows on display for the people. I would need an assistant, and Ruuter accepted the post.
Leaving him behind at the sawmill, I felt myself being drawn irresistibly toward the Blackwood treehouse of Shamas. When I reached the place where the house had been, there was nothing there, not even a stump. The huge tree was not a part of this world, and neither was Shamas, father of Abrina.
I dismounted, gave the horse its head, and stood looking into the woods, my hand upon the god box, as I filled with sadness. I remember thinking that I didn't understand the pain, why the pain was necessary, or if it would ever end. I felt I knew what I needed, but even then I was not arrogant enough to ask for a goddess. All I could ask for was what I needed.
No drawers opened, but I heard the echoes of an ax striking wood coming from a great distance. My heart threatened to burst through my ribs, and as I mounted my horse I reminded myself of the humor of the gods. I snickered out a laugh before the terrors and hopes chance dangled before me.
Soon I was at that clearing where I had met Abrina in another world. At the far end a logger was limbing a fallen blackwood. I dismounted, tied my horse to a bit of brush, and walked toward her, for she was a woman. She had short black hair, amber eyes, full red lips, and the body of a goddess held in by a laced vest, brown trousers, and boots.
She stood up as I approached the log. She was only a head taller than I, but she didn't look smaller than the original Abrina. Perhaps I had grown. She looked down at me. "Who are you?"
"My name is Korvas." My lips became very dry. "Is your name Abrina?"
"Yes, it is. Is something wrong? Shamas, my father?"
"No." I shook my head. "There is nothing wrong in the entire world. I want to ask you a question."
She placed a hand on her hip. "What question?"
I held out my hand toward a stump. "May I sit and watch you work?"
Her eyebrows went
up. She laughed and prepared to take another swing with her ax. "It's a free country."
"Yes, it is."
I sat down on the stump and watched my goddess swing her blade as I patted the god box and praised the wisdom of the gods. Abrina's cheeks were rosy. She was blushing.
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—Also by Barry B. Longyear:
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Enchanteds Books, Kindle Editions
Enemy Mine, the Author's Cut
The Tomorrow Testament
The Last Enemy
The Enemy Papers (full Enemy Mine trilogy & more)
Infinity Hold
Kill All The Lawyers
Keep The Law
Infinity Hold3 (Full Infinity Hold trilogy & Author's Introduction)
Saint Mary Blue
Dark Corners (Collection)
The Write Stuff (Writing Instruction)
Sea of Glass
The God Box
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Enchanteds Kindle Singles
"Butterfly and the Witch Boy"
"Windrunner and the Changa"
"Silent Her"
"Alte Kameraden"
"Bifrost Crossing"
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Trade Paperback Novels & Collections
The Change
Circus World
City of Baraboo
Dark Corners
Elephant Song
Enemy Mine
The Enemy Papers
The God Box
The Homecoming
Infinity Hold
Infinity Hold3
It Came From Schenectady
The Last Enemy
Kill All The Lawyers
Manifest Destiny
Naked Came The Robot
Saint Mary Blue
Slag Like Me
The Tomorrow Testament
Sea of Glass
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Non-fiction
Science Fiction Writer's Workshop-I (Writing Instruction)
Yesterday's Tomorrow (Recovery Meditations For Hard Cases)
The Write Stuff (Writing Instruction)
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