Lovecraft Ezine Mega-Issue 4 Rev1

by Price, Robert M.

  Hastur reached for her throat. "I was hoping to avoid the experience of being executed."

  "I'm afraid that it's unavoidable. The escape of the most hated woman in Paris before her execution would cause the police to investigate a former prosecution witness who visited her cell. This is the only offer on the table. I suggest you sign."

  Hastur signed the paper.

  "Considering your pedigree, it is appropriate that we are now allies," noted Grimoire.

  "My pedigree?" replied Hastur.

  "Your ancestor, the Abbé Sorgue, alias the Black Priest, was my predecessor as Repairer of Reputations."

  The Sûreté had the power to restrict public access to the prison courtyard where the execution was to be held. Yielding to public pressure, the police allowed the courtyard to be filled to its utmost capacity. Upon entering the prison courtyard, Hastur d'Ys was greeted by a large bloodthirsty crowd. Cries of "Death to Lady Bluebeard" issued from the spectators.

  Following her interview with Grimoire, Hastur had been plagued by suspicions that the King of Carcosa had no intention of resurrecting her. All the doubts flooded her mind when she heard the taunts of the crowd.

  "I don't want to die!" she screamed, and refused to mount the scaffold. The guards had no choice but to drag the hysterical prisoner up the stairs to the awaiting guillotine. "The King of Carcosa won't save me! He lied!" The executioner locked the stocks around Hastur's neck. "He won't save me! My reputation! It won't be repaired! " The executioner pulled the level to release the blade. "The King is --" The head of the murderess fell into the basket.

  Among the spectators were two people who had testified at Hastur's trial.

  "Did you hear what she was shouting?" asked Bailey Rollins.

  "I couldn't hear anything with all those people yelling," admitted Jean Grimoire.

  "Like all killers, Hastur d'Ys (alias Jacqueline Sorgue) showed her true character in the face of retribution," said Inspector Lefevre seated behind his desk at Sûreté headquarters.

  "Did you read the executioner's report?" asked Cardec. "She mentioned the King of Carcosa just before the blade struck."

  "It's not surprising. Morrell, her lover, had read Le Roi en Jaune. She must have as well."

  "Do we have any clues as to the identity of the distributor of that vile play?'

  "He remains an elusive commodity. Le Roi en Jaune has officially been labeled a work of pornography comparable to the novels of de Sade. If we were to identify the distributor, he could be prosecuted under the censorship statues."

  "I may have stumbled upon the trail of the distributor. It struck me as odd that the murderess was also shouting about her reputation - according to the executioner's statement. Remember that dance instructor from the trial?"

  "Jean Grimoire? What about him?"

  "He struck me as a bit of a charlatan, Inspector. Here's his business card."

  "I understand your interest, Cardec, in this fellow who imagines himself a Repairer of Reputations."

  "He's also a literary agent. Perhaps he's the agent for whomever owns the 'copyrights' to Le Roi en Jaune. Furthermore, he visited Hastur d'Ys shortly after her conviction."

  "Very unusual conduct for a prosecution witness. Did the guard overhear anything of interest?"

  "There were some confusing allusions to a foreign king."

  "Perhaps the King of Carcosa."

  "A document was also signed by d'Ys during the meeting. The guard didn't overhear discussion of this document, but it was dated the day of the interview. Grimoire presented that document to the prison authorities. It allowed him to claim the remains of Hastur d'Ys. She was buried the same day as the execution."

  "Clearly Grimoire had an unusual relationship with the deceased murderess, Cardec. Put this Repairer of Reputations under surveillance."

  When Hastur d'Ys opened her eyes, she was lying naked on a bed. Standing over her was Bailey Rollins. She was dressed in the same black leotard that she wore at the dance studio. Long black sleeves covered her arms and ended just below the shoulders.

  "Precious Hastur, you have been reborn in Carcosa. Your gravestone on Earth rests over a coffin filled with bricks. Using our combined talents, the Repairer and I were able to reanimate your carcass. Your flesh is unmarred. Rise and look in the mirror."

  Gazing at her reflection, Hastur saw no signs of her earlier decapitation.

  "We were never properly introduced, precious Hastur. Bailey Rollins was a pseudonym. I was elsewhere during your earlier stay in Carcosa. I am Bayrolles, First Consort of the King."

  "You're the Queen of Carcosa?"

  "There is no Queen of Carcosa. My relationship with Our Lord is purely morganatic. Your question confuses me, precious Hastur. Surely Our Lord explained the nature of his Consorts during your prior visit to Carcosa?"'

  "Forgive me, Bayrolles, but my memories are hazy."

  "No doubt a temporary consequence of the resurrection process. Feel free to ask any questions."

  "What are the duties of a Consort?"

  "In Carcosa, we satisfy the carnal desires of Our Lord. On Earth, we spread His Gospel alongside the Repairer of Reputations. You are to be the Second Consort."

  "That means my position in the Court of Carcosa is lower than yours."

  Bayrolles shook her head. "Our titles are merely chronological, They do not reflect the rank that we hold in Our Lord's affections. Do not view me as a rival, precious Hastur. I have already accepted that Our Lord prefers you to me."

  "What make you say that?"

  "The King has bypassed all the rules of selection. Normally a Candidate for Consort would be vetted by the Repairer of Reputations or an already existing Consort. Additionally, the Candidate must perform the Scarlet Ceremony."

  "What is that?"

  "It would differ slightly for each Candidate. I was the Repairer's paramour before I became Our Lord's. The Repairer and I had a son. I was asked to mimic Abraham in the Bible, but no angel intervened to stay my hand. The King has waived the Scarlet Ceremony in your case."

  Bayrolles grabbed a black robe lying on a chair, On the back of the robe was a Yellow Sign identical to the one on the First Consort's leotard.

  "Put this on, precious Hastur. Walk with me."

  Wearing the robe, Hastur followed Bayrolles out of the room. Hastur debated the wisdom of taking the sash around her robe and strangling Bayrolles. With the First Consort dead, she could then use the Ritual of the Signum Veneris to return to Earth. Hastur decided against such a stratagem. The King of Carcosa was aware of her knowledge of the Ritual. He would have already taken countermeasures to prevent its usage. Hastur had no choice but to follow the First Consort.

  "As I walk through these passages, precious Hastur, I am in awe of Our Lord's architectural skills. Of all the cities that Our Lord constructed throughout the universe, Carcosa is the most impressive."

  “Did the King ever build any cities on Earth?"

  "The citadels that Our Lord erected in Asia are now largely in ruins. Only the city of Yian and the Eight Towers of the Dark Star still stand as testimony to Our Lord's artistry."

  Bayrolles and Hastur entered a corridor adorned with tapestries depicting beautiful women. The First Consort pointed to one.

  "Her name was Cassilda. She died long ago. It is Our Lord's will that all Consorts learn her song. I shall teach you the words."

  Bayrolles ushered Hastur into a room occupied by two Asian women. Dressed in yellow robes, they stood next to a pool filled with water.

  "These are my handmaidens from Yian," declared Bayrolles. "They shall bathe you and soak your flesh with perfume. I shall then instruct you in Cassilda's song in preparation for your audience with the King. You shall be wearing this."

  Bayrolles displayed a red costume that was nearly a duplicate of the one designed by Hastur on Earth. The major difference was that the Yellow Sign adorned each breast.

  "You shall also be wearing the Cerulean Necklace of Subservience," added Bayrol
les. She held up a necklace made from ringlets of hair tied together.

  "Whose hair is that?" asked Hastur.

  "It is from Our Lord. As First Consort, it was my duty to shave the King's scalp today. Our sovereign is extremely handsome when his skull is devoid of hair."

  Two hours later, Bayrolles and Hastur stood before a closed door. The First Consort held a flute.

  "The King waits within, precious Hastur. I shall stand outside and play the Music of the Black Stars. Once you are installed as Second Consort, the two of us shall search for a Third to complete the Unholy Trinity. Now, dance! You must dance as Salome did before Herod!"

  Once Hastur entered the room, she beheld a massive figure seated on an onyx throne. He was dressed in a yellow robe. A raised hood made his features impossible to discern.

  While Bayrolles played, Hastur danced in a sensual manner that would have enflamed the passion of any mortal man. However, Hastur's audience was not a man but a living god. He gave no indication of even a remote interest in the mortal woman.

  Hastur knelt before the inscrutable figure. Slowly removing her clothes, she sang Cassilda's song: "Along the shore the cloud rings break . . ." By the time Hastur sang the last verse, she was totally naked except for the Cerulean Necklace that graced her throat.

  The figure on the throne rose to his full height. His yellow robe fell to his feet. Huge bat-like wings spread out from his shoulders. His skin was the color of jade. Beneath azure eyebrows, seductive eyes gleamed brightly in a lean face. The color of the eyes constantly shifted from yellow to purple to sapphire. His thin lips formed a cynical smile that demanded total submission.

  "Woman, you never saw my true form until now. Do you regret your earlier defiance?"

  "My Lord, you are the embodiment of physical perfection. Not even the great Da Vinci could do justice to your magnificence. You have possessed many names throughout history, but only one captures your glory. You are the Morning Star. You are Lucifer."

  The unmasked King of Carcosa raised Hastur from the ground.

  "I have lusted for you, woman, like I have lusted for no other."

  In the basement of Black Dwarf Press, Jean Grimoire had just finished counting the copies of his monthly order. He was about to pay Marc Douanier when the door at the top of the stairs burst open. "Police!!!" screamed Miranda Douanier from the top floor. A squad of policemen led by Cardec rushed downstairs.

  Grimoire and the Douaniers were arrested. The Repairer of Reputations was charged with peddling pornography. The Douaniers were charged with forgery as well as printing pornography.

  Cardec questioned Grimoire about the hysterical statements of Hastur d'Ys, but the Repairer of Reputations maintained a stony silence.

  The next day, a guard was delivering dinner to Grimoire in his prison cell. When the guard unlocked the door, he was shocked to find the cell empty. It was as if Grimoire had disappeared by magic.

  The Repairer of Reputation knelt with his head lowered in shame. He was dressed in a red robe. On the front of his garment was the image of a peacock. On the back was the Yellow Sign.

  The Repairer faced three thrones. In the middle was seated the King of Carcosa. His true form was once again hidden by his yellow robe. On the King's right was seated Hastur d'Ys; on his left, Bayrolles.

  "You arrived in Carcosa earlier than expected," observed the monarch. "Explain."

  "I have suffered a minor setback, My Lord."

  "It is for me to decide whether setbacks are minor. What defeat have you endured?"

  "I was arrested by the local constabulary. Copies of your Gospel were confiscated and burnt. I escaped incarceration by opening a gateway to Carcosa, My Lord."

  "Is there any reason that I shouldn't dispatch your soul into the depths of Hali?"

  "My defeat rests at the door of another of your followers. The Second Consort behaved cravenly at her execution."

  "My Lord -" interjected Hastur.

  "Silence!" commanded the King. "Continue, Repairer."

  "She cried about her reputation being irreparable. She invoked your name in vain. These statements caused the indigenous constabulary to suspect me of spreading your Gospel, My Lord."

  "You may leave, Repairer.” The King directed his gaze towards Bayrolles. "First Consort, I wish to be alone with the Second Consort."

  After the departures of Grimoire and Bayrolles, the King laughed.

  "The Repairer was quite correct in his assessment. It was a minor, even a trivial, setback. Nevertheless, I must pretend to be harsher than necessary when such inconsequential defeats transpire. I have my own reputation to maintain."

  "Then you aren't angry, My Lord."

  Rising from his throne, the King walked over to his Second Consort. Stroking her cheek gently, he spoke in a soothing whisper.

  "When I first met you, I was attracted by your brazen defiance. You were once Jacqueline the Bold. Now you have devolved into a coward. I thought you were different, but you're like all the other women. Weak. Unreliable. You captivated me with your seductive flesh. You raised my hopes about your worthiness to share my bed. Then you smothered my lust through a foolish lack of nerve. You are incapable of comprehending my true nature.

  "I am more than the King in Yellow. I am the Ruler of All That Was. I am the original Bluebeard."

  The King's right hand grabbed the Cerulean Necklace and twisted it around Hastur's throat. "When you strangled a woman, sweet Hastur, how long did she take to die? Seconds? Minutes? My adroitness can prolong the agony of choking for an hour."

  After proving the accuracy of that remark, the King in Yellow removed from Hastur's throat the necklace constructed from his blue hair. He then kissed his dead Consort on the lips before speaking to her corpse.

  "Your soul still remains to be punished."

  Removing his robe, the King lifted the corpse in his arms. Flapping his wings, he flew outside the window. Swooping down, he gently deposited the slain Consort in the Lake of Hali. As the carnivorous waters covered Hastur's body, the King returned to his throne room.

  "I wear no mask, Cassilda, but you do," said Rev. Dusenberry of Fairbeach, New Jersey.

  "My name's not Cassilda!" screamed the woman as she struggled against the ropes around her ankles and wrists.

  "Cassilda is a character in a play. It's about sinful women like you. Women whose beauty masks a soul of deceit. Women who can only be cleansed by entering my Chamber of Lethe."

  Dusenberry dragged the woman into his kitchen. He put her head in the oven just before he turned on the gas.

  "What’s wrong, darling? asked the blonde of the man lying naked next to her.

  "I'm afraid, Sylvia," answered Severn the artist.

  "Afraid of what?"

  "I'm afraid that I won't remember you."

  "How could you forget our meeting tonight at Elliot's party?" She smiled mischievously. "Did you hear the story of the Russian Empress? After making love to a much younger man, she expired with a smile on her lips."

  "I've had blackouts . . . losses of memory . . . since I dreamt of Carcosa."

  Pulling the pillow out from under Sylvia's head, Severn placed it over her face and pushed down. Once Sylvia was asphyxiated, he removed the pillow. Death had come very quickly because she had died with a smile on her lips - like Catherine the Great.

  Removing a rose-colored garter from one of Sylvia's legs, Severn closed the bed curtains. Walking into the foyer, he glimpsed Sylvia's yellow-eyed cat. Severn playfully clasped the garter around the cat's neck.

  When Severn woke the next morning in his studio in the Latin Quarter, his premonition proved accurate. He didn't remember anything about Sylvia Elven.

  In the Gobi Desert, the elderly shaman addressed a congregation of three boys. They were all six years old.

  "The Prophecies of the Kiot Bordjiguen reveal that the Disposer of Souls has been granted the divine right to judge the women of the universe ever since his birth on a black sun. When Our Lord slaughters a woman
in his Lake of Stars, his Word spreads across the heavens to his disciples. We must emulate Our Lord." He raised a dagger. "This was made from metal that fell from the sky eons ago."

  The shaman took the boys to the altar where three girls of the same age were shackled. The old man had each of his pupils take turns performing the Scarlet Ceremony.

  Once more in his yellow robe, the King of Carcosa put the finishing touches on the tapestry that he was sewing. As he neared completion, a chorus of voices led by Cassilda rose from the Lake of Hali. Their song spread throughout the corridors of the palace: "Along the shore the cloud rings break . . ." The King's keen ears detected that a new voice had joined the chorus of Consorts murdered throughout the millennia.

  Only after slaying a Consort could the King release the great artist imprisoned within his own brutal soul. Upon completion of the tapestry immortalizing the beauty of Hastur d'Ys, the King in Yellow hung it on a palace wall. As the last verses of Cassilda's song were sung, a smile formed on the lips of the first serial killer to plague the cosmos.

  Rick Lai is an authority on pulp fiction and the Wold Newton Universe concepts of Philip José Farmer. His speculative articles have been collected in Rick Lai’s Secret Histories: Daring Adventurers, Rick Lai’s Secret Histories: Criminal Masterminds, Chronology of Shadows: A Timeline of The Shadow’s Exploits and The Revised Complete Chronology of Bronze. Rick's fiction has been collected in Shadows of the Opera, Shadows of the Opera; Retribution in Blood and Sisters of the Shadows: The Cagliostro Curse (the last two titles are available from Black Coat Press). He has also translated Arthur Bernède's Judex and The Return of Judex into English for Black Coat Press. Rick also regularly appears on the Lovecraft Ezine internet chats.

  Story illustration by Dave Felton

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