“I can only declare,” said Tvem at last. “That the issue is undecided. Unless the true heir of Ishmael is made known, I cannot support a revolution. The heirs of Tsilel have been banished, so only the heir of Ishmael Gan, the second High-King, can rule. Who is thy father, Ifunka?”
“All I know is the name: Kandaspu.”
“Of which House—of which clan?”
“I’m afraid I do not know.”
“Kanda spu, the ‘long nose’,” Tvem pondered. “An uncommon name in this region. What of thy mother?”
“Her name was Sapya of Clan Bishkwa, of the line of Votsku. She abandoned me as a child, leaving me with my uncle, Matuka Wobga.”
“The House of Avis,” Tvem observed. “Strange, indeed, that a descendant of the priestly line should wish to overthrow the Theocracy.”
“Whatever my ancestry,” he replied. “Amon-Ra chose me for the Verdant Coin and told me that my pedigree is great.”
“That could mean anything,” said Ushwan. “You could be the heir of Kabanik, or even of a line of chiefs from the Isle of Offlising, descended from their ancient king, Iasata. We won’t know for certain unless we find out who Kandaspu was and where he came from.”
“The Great Spirit knows,” said Tvem. “So, as I said before, I cannot endorse your struggle. I can only warn you not to seek vengeance and hatred, but only justice and righteousness. Follow the nine-fold path and ye shall achieve true victory. The Right Religion is a message of compassion, not of force and compulsion. Therefore, ye must act carefully and not go beyond the limits of moderation.”
“Very well,” said Plant Man. “I thank thee for thy consideration and shall be sure to reward thee when I achieve my kingdom. These woods shall be populated again, the people of Tvak shall be numerous once more, and Ffush shall flourish under your heirs, Lord Tvem.”
“Heirs? At my age?” he baulked.
“Yes, so it shall be,” declared Plant Man. “Numerous wives shall ye both have, thou and Jyoff, and colonists to build up your lands. Ffash Valley, also, shall chime again with the murmur of souls, and Ffushkar shall prosper immensely.”
“A beautiful vision,” said Tvem. “I hope you achieve it.”
“There is something I must show you,” said Plant Man, reaching into his viny flesh and producing the cylinder which he had removed from Asharru’s throne in Khanshaff.
“This comes from the Inner Sanctum of the Ffâna in Khanshaff.”
He handed it to Tvem, who examined it diligently. He was fascinated, in particular, by the cursive script on its face. He turned it over, tossed it from hand to hand, and held it to the hearth-light.
“Most peculiar,” he said in a curious tone. “This is not from Tremn.”
“Not from Tremn!” Ushwan gasped. “Then what, by Fox, is it?”
“The script is ancient,” Tvem explained. “Representing a language used by early star explorers.”
“Star explorers!” Shem exclaimed. “No man can fly, let along sail across the star dome!”
“It’s not a dome,” Tvem corrected him. “During the Age of Emperors, we first made contact with the Nyzorlians, from Nyza, which circles round Vukt.”
“Vukt circles round Tremn,” Plant Man asserted. “We can see it with our very eyes!”
“That’s what the theocracy would have you believe,” said Tvem as the others gasped. “We are but one of seven major planets circling Vukt like balls extended on strings from a central sphere, much larger than the rest. Vukt appears small because it is far distant, but it is, in reality, much larger than Tremn. There is a force which holds these planets in orbit, called gravity, which is one of the many forces projected from the mimra. The energies of the mimra, when they enter the realm of realization, are diversified. Smaller bodies circle round larger bodies, which is why Tvash, Ffush and Obish circle round Tremn, because they are smaller than Tremn.”
“Tremn, thou sayest, is close to Nyza?” asked Ushwan.
“Not by our standards,” he said. “But yes. The nearest planet to Vukt is Kavukh, followed by Ashkabra; then Tremn and Nyza, which are both peopled by men; and then Tvugman, Potvekya and Shifan; each of these has their own moons. Beyond our system, there are many other star systems with which we used to trade and hold intercourse, each of which consists of a star like Vukt, circled by a host of planets. After Kishton’s exile, the Theocracy disbanded our space fleet, dismantled all electronic devices and hid their knowledge from the population.”
“Is this cylinder Nyzorlian, then?” asked Plant Man.
“No, it seems to be more ancient. Perhaps it belongs to Asharru’s own craft, which brought him to our world. I cannot say.”
“Is there no perfidy which the Theocracy has not committed!” Ushwan cried.
“Do you see, now, brothers?” Ffen addressed them. “They’ve kept us ignorant like sheep, while all the while we could have been sailing between planets and exploring all the material worlds of the Great Spirit?”
“Why have the Nyzorlians abandoned us?” asked Shem.
“Perhaps they have their own troubles,” Tvem suggested. “As for other races—it may be more the work of Amon-Ra. In any case, we have been isolated for too long. This cylinder may be a key to unlocking a space ship which can revolutionise our fortunes and bring us once again in touch with our neighbours on other worlds.”
“Sailing through the stars!” said Arwa. “Can you imagine it, my darling?”
“One day, we shall fly through the sky—even to Nyza or above,” Plant Man promised her. “The possibilities are endless.”
“Even so,” Tvem continued, bringing the conference to its conclusion. “Is there anything else I can do for you before ye depart?”
He tossed Plant Man the cylinder, which he deftly caught.
“No, my Lord of Ffush,” he said. “We are wearied with our journey. We shall go to bed.”
“But not to sleep,” Arwa whispered to her husband, who smiled gaily.
As they left the manor and headed to the camp, they felt the brisk wintery air and heard the howl of wind through the encompassing forest branches. The moons shone overhead, providing subtle illumination, while the hustle and bustle of the soldiers breathed life into the stark remoteness of the place. Hand-in-hand, Plant Man and his wife approached the royal tent, seven okshas long and three high, embroidered with the royal standard, while the others went to their respective tents. Shem and Meyla eyed one another with love and affection, eager to disrobe and enjoy the pleasures of married life. Ffen looked out towards Ffash Valley, pining after his beloved wives who awaited him—so near and yet so far. He was sharing a tent with Jyoff, while Uswhan slept alone. Tesh-Khan, as a general, also had his own tent, replete with a table for spreading out maps and parchments used for drawing up plans of attack. Plant Man and Arwa retired to their capacious tent, lay upon the typically soft Shaffu bed, and made love until a few hours before dawn, when they finally slept, exhausted but fulfilled, both emotionally and physically.
When the beig-trumps sounded at dawn, they arose, washed—or, rather, she washed and dressed him, and then they performed the kashroim, along with all the troops. Three hours later, they had eaten and were ready to move. They bade farewell to Lord Tvem and set off into the forest depths. As they penetrated its thickness, they came upon clay men lairs. The Shaffu soldiers took balls of ffentbaff-fur mixed with twigs, parchment and ffentwash-oil, lit them, and cast them down the tunnels pouring smoke and fire into their labyrinthine fastness. As the desperate savages emerged, weapons in hand, they were easily shot or cut down, except for the queens, whom Tesh-Khan had ordered to be captured and bound. These were tied up and fastened to a biffbaff-cart at the rear of the army. Three queens in total were captured, Yaghla-Haz (the successor to the Washyag-Haz whom Ifunka, Shem and Shaff had previously defeated), Heigal-Shim and Kahitv-Kshaff (who had both previously captured Lord
Tvem), leading to the complete annihilation of all their warrens or ‘colonies’. Though, doubtless, many other such colonies existed throughout the wide expanse of Ffushkar, it was a severe blow to their fortunes. The fate of the queens would be decided by Plant Man in due course.
Eventually, they came to the edge of Ffash Valley and began their descent; meish scattered as they approached. Birds, snakes and mammals fled their crushing onslaught, as saplings were pulverized under the thunderous, lumbering weight of the massive beasts. It was not long before Tem Ffash, Lord of Ffash Valley, emerged with his pet welg-meish, Shig, on his shoulders and his three large yeshkas, Raff, Shed and Lash, growling and fierce at his side. He raised his hand in greeting and said, “Peace be to you!” to which Ffen, leaping off his ffentbaff, replied, “And upon thee peace!”
“Son!” Tem cried as he embraced him.
The meish grinned oddly and patted him on the head.
“My daughters have not slept a wink since thy departure. They love thee so,” he said. “I thought thee utterly lost!”
“By the grace of the Great Spirit, I live,” he said. “And so does our brother, Ushwan, and Shem and Ifunka. They are both married as well, Shem to Meyla and Ifunka to Arwa.”
“One wife each? Hardly sufficient!” Tem opined. “Where is Ifunka that I may greet him?”
“He is there”—Ffen pointed—“On the royal ffentbaff.”
“I see only a strange creature with the form of a plant,” said Tem, perplexed. “And an army of demon-worshippers! I trust this bodes well and not badly?”
“It does, my father,” Ffen reassured him.
“The army is under Ifunka’s command, but he is now known as Plant Man, for he bears the Verdant Coin, which gives him mastery over the plant kingdom. He is the new king of all Tremn and we are marching for Kubbawa, in order to cleanse it of the pernicious theocracy and build our new kingdom. I am his High Steward and Chancellor. Tesh-Khan”—he pointed—“is his General. As thou canst well see, he has tamed the demon-worshippers, brought them into the Right Religion, and fashioned them into an indomitable force.”
“The All-Highest be praised!” Tem exclaimed. “Come and greet your wives. The army may pass through in peace, secure.”
“Thank you, Lord Tem,” said Plant Man. “We are most grateful for your hospitality. We shan’t be staying long as we intend to reach Ffantplain in all due haste, then Ritvator and Kubbawa. Perhaps you would like to accompany us?”
He thought for a moment and reached for his sword. He pulled it from its scabbard and swung it round, thrusting and swinging in the manner he had learnt as a boy.
“My father, Bem, always said,” he spoke loudly. “That the theocracy would have its day and pass away in a blaze of wrath, a clash of armies more brutal and sudden than any previous war. I will join you, along with my daughters, who shall keep Ffen company. What man can fight while his loins are starved?”
He chuckled.
“Indeed,” agreed Plant Man as he glanced at Arwa, who was smiling brightly.
As the army moved through the valley, three ffentbaffs abreast in order to avoid destroying all the vegetation of Ffash Valley, Ffen hurried ahead with Tem. As soon as they heard his approach, the three beauties, Reshga, Yimga and Meshga, burst from their long-house and embraced their beloved with a flurry of kisses, on cheek, eyes, nose and mouth—he was practically drowned in their love. They grabbed both his arms and pulled him, nay, yanked him, into the house.
“But I… but we!” he cried.
“Now!” ordered Yimga.
Tem stared blankly, his eyes practically popping out of their sockets as his daughters dragged away their prize.
“Heavens above!” he muttered to himself. “May the Great Spirit grant me such eager wives!”
“You shall have them!” called Plant Man as his ffentbaff drew near. “I intend to populate the forest regions.”
“All the more reason for me to join you,” Tem replied. “Let me gather some supplies.”
“I’ll send you some biffbaffs to load.”
The command was sent back to the baggage train and two biffbaffs were hurriedly drawn ahead to supply his need. This took no more than a half hour, at which time Shem was sent to collect Ffen. He reluctantly emerged, hair dishevelled, face ruddy green and smelling of sweat and passion. His wives followed behind in a similar state of disarray. Ffen was given a separate ffentbaff, accompanied by his wives and Tem Ffash and little Shig and, as the beig-trumps sounded, the army set off. Tem’s yeshkas were ordered to stay in order that his house be kept safe from invasion by clay-men or other malevolent forces during his absence. Before long, they were ascending the opposite rise of the valley until they were back into the density of Ffushkar.
Turning northwest, they began to take a different path from that which they had taken via Habka. Instead, they marched for five days (a full Tremna week), through dense and uninhabited forest, relying upon their ample supplies, good humour and joyous songs of battle and triumph. They had now reached the area of habitable forest surrounding Ffantplain and its villages. When they reached the edge of a large clearing, comprising farmland at the purlieus of a small hamlet, the army halted, and scouts were sent forth to survey the lay of the land. When they returned, it was reported that the hamlet was called Taffgu, consisting of three farmhouses inhabited by unarmed farmers. Beyond this, at a distance of a tvinshaff, was the village of Shainba—one of thirty-seven villages and hamlets within the vicinity of the city. As the army waited, it began to snow, and a thin layer of the stuff dusted the ground until everything was covered in white. The treetops were similarly covered in the first evidence of winter’s blessed coming. The soldiers were delighted, while the companions rejoiced that the season was upon them for, even though it betokened bitter cold, what must follow cold is warmth, what follows death is new life, and winter is the harbinger of spring, the new year, and all the blessings and fortune, the beauty and splendour, that that most felicitous of seasons manifests. The sun was midway above the horizon, the fallow fields where braksh-wheat grew, shone resplendently while in the sunlight, like so much lace laid out upon a table. Wultva-budgies chirped, ffubishes floated delightfully in the treetops, and all was peaceful, tranquil—the eye before the storm. There was a palpable tension among the troops, who were untried and untested in battle—few among them being trained and experienced watchmen or raiders.
“It’s all or nothing, Tesh-Khan!” Plant Man called out to him. “We must take them unawares. If Ffantplain falls not, then all is lost. We march, and we march quickly!”
“We have no siege weapons, your Majesty,” he replied.
“We have ladders,” Ffen informed them. “And a battering ram. That should be sufficient. They’re not prepared for war—there hasn’t been a proper war in over two thousand years.”
“Very well, then,” said Plant Man. “For the King; for the Great Spirit; march!!!”
“Dhôm-krâ (march)!” Tesh-Khan commanded in Shaffi.
The ffentbaffs burst through the forest into the open, knocking trees to pieces as they did so, like so many frail twigs, the ground pounding with their footsteps, such that the farmer-folk of Taffgu rushed out of their homes to see what made it. They could be seen, staring it terror, their cries going up as they fled towards Shainba with all due haste. One of them mounted his own ffentbaff and began to flee.
“Take down the beast!” Tesh-Khan commanded.
A hail of arrows sliced through the air and hit their mark, piercing its muscular hide and delivering its quietus. The farmer was thrown off and into a nearby hedge. The army quickly overtook them, and they were swept up like beetles, tied and bound.
“What do you want with us?” cried one. “I’m a dad and I have a good lot of bairns.”
“I’m but a ’poverished farmer,” said another. “Poor I am, I swears it!”
“Fear
not,” said Plant Man. “We have only bound you as a precaution. We mean you no harm.”
“Who are you, sir; are you man or beast?”
“I am Plant Man, and I am king of all Tremn. The Theocracy is finished—now, a new kingdom shall begin.”
“The blasphemy!” said one coarse farmer with a rough, wide face and bulbous nose. His hair was shoulder-length and curly and he squinted as if half-blind. His geltv-hat was full of loose straw and holes and his overalls worn and soiled.
“Blasphemy is to presume to rule in the stead of the king,” asserted Plant Man. “The Great Spirit has given sovereignty to kings, not priests or elected officials. Kings rule by divine right!”
“It don’t seem right is all,” said the farmer. “I han’t heard nothing the like in my home nor any monk has taught me the like.”
“I was a monk once,” continued Plant Man. “Not so long ago, but Amon-Ra has favoured me with a tremendous power and now I am a king among men. What you have been taught is a packet of lies and untruths.”
“My priest never done lie to me,” insisted the man.
“Shall I cut out his tongue, your Majesty?” asked Tesh-Khan.
“No, he is merely ignorant,” he replied, calming the general’s zealous enthusiasm. “Ignorance is not a crime and, as for impertinence, he doesn’t yet understand who I truly am.”
“What’s your name, farmer?” asked Ffen.
“Bosh Taffgu, son of Dosh.”
“And you?” he pointed to the adjacent captive.
“Dosh Taffgu, son of Dosh, milord.”
“You’re brothers.”
“Aye, milord.”
“And you’re Dosh son of Dosh?”
“Aye, milord.”
“Inventive folk, these peasants, eh your Majesty?” Ffen commented.
“We are not from highborn families ourselves, are we?” Plant Man replied.
The Rise of Plant Man, Lord of War, Conquest and Revenge: Green Monk of Tremn, Part II (Coins of Amon-Ra Book 2) Page 21