After the battle, Talou had the two strangers brought to him, leaving them free to circulate unguarded while he decided their fate.
The attractive explorer, a Frenchwoman named Louise Montalescot, quickly struck up a friendship with us and, delighted to find herself among compatriots, related the many twists of fate that had led her and her brother to this distant African land.
Of humble origins, Louise was born in the outskirts of Paris. Her father, who worked in a ceramics factory, earned a steady living by making various models of vases and containers; this work required a true sculptor’s talent, but the good man remained the soul of modesty.
Louise had a younger brother, the object of her most ardent affections. Norbert—that was the boy’s name—had trained under his father since early childhood and could easily model fine statuettes in the guise of flasks and candlestick holders.
Sent to school at an early age, Louise demonstrated a remarkable aptitude for work; thanks to her excellent grades, she was awarded a scholarship to attend a private girls’ school and could thus pursue her studies more seriously. At twenty, having earned her diplomas, she lived comfortably off the lessons she gave, and meanwhile spent her days developing her knowledge of the arts and sciences. Consumed by a passion for hard work, she lamented the time she had to waste sleeping and eating.
She was especially fanatical about chemistry, and during her long nights of study she grimly pursued a certain grand discovery that had been germinating in her mind. She was trying to obtain, by a purely photographic process, a mechanism precise enough to guide a pencil or paintbrush with absolute steadiness. Already Louise was nearing her goal; but she was still lacking one essential oil, which thus far had eluded her. Every Sunday she went to collect samples in the woods around Paris, searching in vain for the as yet unknown plant that could perfect her mixture.
Reading in various explorers’ memoirs many enchanting descriptions of tropical flora, the young woman dreamed of crossing the torrid lands of central Africa, convinced that its unparalleled vegetation would increase her slim chances for success a hundredfold.
To take her mind off her obsession, Louise devoted part of each day to writing a brief treatise on botany, an attractive, well-illustrated tome aimed at a general readership that highlighted the astounding marvels of the plant kingdom. She made short work of the volume, which went through a large printing and earned her a small fortune. Finding herself with this unexpected windfall, the young woman thought only of undertaking the great voyage she so ardently desired.
But for some time already, she had been experiencing a pain in her right lung—a kind of sharp, insistent pressure that felt like a supply of air she could not exhale. Wishing to get an authoritative opinion before setting off on her travels, she consulted Dr. Renesme, whose celebrated work on chest illnesses she had read and admired.
The great specialist was struck by the rarity of the case. An internal tumor had formed in Louise’s lung, and the atony of the affected area interfered with the expulsion of inhaled air.
According to Renesme, the illness was surely caused by certain toxic gases that the young woman had absorbed while performing her chemical experiments.
It was now urgent to create an artificial outlet for the air, for without this precaution the tumor would continue to swell indefinitely. Moreover, the breathing tubes would produce a sound to let her monitor their good working order at all times—for the slightest obstruction of even one of her main organs would allow the tumescence to make irreversible progress.
Admirably endowed physically, Louise, despite her natural seriousness, was not above a certain coquetry. Perturbed by Renesme’s diagnosis, she looked for a means of rendering as elegant and aesthetically pleasing as possible the surgical instrument that would henceforth be part of her body.
Taking as pretext her imminent departure for perilous horizons, she decided to wear men’s clothing, which was better suited to the hardships of her intrepid journey.
She settled on an officer’s uniform, which would allow her to disguise the sound-producing tubes as aiguillettes, much as one conceals a hearing horn in the armature of a fan or umbrella.
Renesme gamely accepted this whim and built his device according to the desired specifications.
The operation succeeded to perfection; the tumor, located at the base of the lung, could now escape through a narrow opening, to which the doctor fitted a stiff tube subdivided into several hollow, whistling aiguillettes.
Thanks to the beneficial effects of this safety valve, Louise could henceforth indulge in all sorts of strenuous activities without fear. Every evening she had to block the opening with a metal stopper after removing the device, which the calm, regular breathing of sleep made superfluous.
When she first saw herself in her officer’s costume, the young woman felt somewhat consoled for her misfortune. Her new outfit was in fact quite becoming, and Louise admired the effect produced by her magnificent blonde mane, which she let fall in natural ringlets beneath her thin policeman’s kepi jauntily cocked over one ear.
Even during her busiest periods of study, Louise had never neglected her brother Norbert.
Her affection for him had grown only more attentive after the disappearance of their parents, who had died at almost the same time during a terrible winter that spawned several lethal epidemics.
Norbert now occupied his father’s place at the ceramics factory, where his marvelous dexterity allowed him to rapidly execute many graceful, lifelike figurines. But apart from this genuine talent the young man had little skill, and he was completely under the excellent influence of his sister.
Louise wanted to share her sudden wealth with Norbert and resolved to bring him with her on her magnificent journey.
The young woman had recently taken an interest in a tame magpie found under strange circumstances. The bird had appeared to her for the first time one Sunday, in the middle of the Chaville woods. Noon had just sounded in the distance, and Louise, after a tiring morning of gathering plant samples, had sat down beneath a tree to have her frugal lunch. Suddenly, a brazen and greedy magpie came hopping toward her as if begging for breadcrumbs, which she immediately tossed its way in abundance. The grateful bird hopped still closer without any fear, letting itself be petted and picked up by the generous benefactor, who, touched by this trusting sympathy, took it back home with her and began training it. Soon the magpie came at the slightest call to perch on its mistress’s shoulder and pushed obedience to the point of fetching in its beak any light object she pointed at.
Louise was now too attached to her winged pet to leave it in someone else’s care, and it was therefore with her on the day when, full of hopeful exuberance, she and her brother boarded the express for Marseille.
Carried to Porto Novo by a rapid steamer, the siblings hastily recruited a small escort of whites and headed south. Louise’s plan was to reach the Vorrh, which several explorers’ accounts had mentioned; it was especially there that she imagined she’d discover all sorts of marvelous plants.
Her hopes were not disappointed when, after a long and wearying trek, she entered the imposing forest primeval. She began her research straightaway, feeling immense joy upon seeing, at virtually every step, some flower or plant that constituted a new and unknown treasure.
Before embarking on her trip, Louise had concocted a corrosive liquid to facilitate her chore. A droplet of this acid, poured onto the right kind of plant, would reveal the indubitable presence of the desired essence by causing a small combustion and some light smoke.
But despite the infinite variety of specimens that crowded the Vorrh, her persistent trials remained fruitless. For many days Louise pursued her task with courage, advancing ever forward beneath the remarkable foliage. Sometimes, spotting some strange and attractive leafage on a tree, she pointed it out to the magpie, which plucked it and brought it to her in its beak.
In this way they crossed the entire Vorrh from north to south without result. Lo
uise, in despair, had reached the point of conducting her experiment only mechanically, when all of a sudden a droplet of her concoction, dribbled onto a new kind of plant simply out of habit, provoked the brief combustion she’d vainly awaited for so long.
The young woman experienced a moment of exhilaration that made up for all her past disappointments. She gathered up a copious amount of the precious delicate, red-colored plant, whose seeds, cultivated in a hothouse, should ensure her future provision.
It was at nightfall that the explorer had made her momentous discovery; they set up camp where they’d halted and everyone lay down to sleep, after a decent meal during which they made plans for an immediate return to Porto Novo.
But the next morning, Louise and Norbert awoke to find themselves alone. Their companions had betrayed them, making away, after cutting its strap, with a certain bag that the young woman always wore slung across her shoulder, whose various compartments contained a weighty supply of gold and banknotes. To avoid capture, the scoundrels had waited until they reached the farthest point of their journey, so as to leave the two abandoned siblings with no provisions and no hope of getting back.
Louise had no desire to tempt fate by trying to reach Porto Novo; instead she continued south, in hopes of encountering a native village where she could get repatriated against the promise of a ransom. She gathered an ample provision of fruits and soon emerged from the Vorrh, having crossed the whole of the vast forest without seeing a trace of Velbar or Sirdah, whom the fire would soon evict from their retreat.
After several hours of walking, Louise reached the Tez, whose course, at a certain distance from Ejur, veered distinctly northward. A tree trunk was drifting randomly down the rapids. At a sign from his sister, Norbert grabbed onto the long flotsam and, pushed by a strong branch that acted as a scull, the two exiles could ford the river, straddling the wet bark as best they could. The young woman was glad to put this barrier between her and her former guides, who might have second thoughts about leaving their victims alive and return with villainous intent.
From this point on, the two siblings invariably followed the left bank of the Tez and thus fell under the sway of Yaour, who was profoundly moved by Louise’s beauty.
During her studies, the girl had circulated in a world of students whose very advanced attitudes had rubbed off on her; she openly displayed her disdain for certain social conventions and sometimes went so far as to advocate free love. Yaour, who was young and had a striking face, had a powerful effect on her imagination, with its love of the unexpected. As she saw it, two individuals drawn to each other by mutual attraction should let no prejudice hinder them. Happy and proud of the romantic side of the adventure, she gave herself unreservedly to this strange king whose passion had been ignited at first glance.
All plans for returning home were postponed by this unplanned denouement.
During their treacherous flight in the heart of the Vorrh, the guides had left behind a certain bag, whose contents, worthless to them but invaluable to Louise, included a host of objects and ingredients related to her great photographic discovery, as yet unfinished.
The young woman resumed her labors with renewed purpose, sure of her success now that she had the unobtainable essence furnished by the red plants from the virgin forest.
Still, her task demanded many more long and painstaking efforts, and she had not yet reached her goal when the Battle of the Tez broke out.
Concluding her story, Louise confessed her violent grief over the death of the unfortunate Yaour, whose glorious memory would forever hover above her entire existence.
XX
THE DAY AFTER HIS VICTORY, the emperor sent Sirdah over with a complicated mission.
Talou, who combined the functions of religious leader and sovereign, was to crown himself king of Drelchkaff, a privilege to which his latest triumph entitled him.
The monarch thought he might heighten the prestige of his eminent decree by having it coincide with the Incomparables’ gala.
Seeking to impress his subjects, he also asked after some grandiose tradition that was customary among whites.
Juillard immediately thought of the Holy Ampulla and offered to provide all the relevant details on how to administer the sacred unction. Meanwhile, Chènevillot volunteered to build a small altar on the north side of Trophy Square.
This first question settled, Sirdah continued her list of demands.
As Yaour IX had no relatives directly descended from Yaour I, his death marked the definitive extinction of his bloodline.
To embellish the coronation ceremony and affirm the incontestable rights of the Talous, the emperor wished to exhibit a kind of genealogical record which, taking Suann as starting point, would underscore once and for all the annihilation of the rival branch.
Very proud of his European origins, the emperor expected the document to showcase the ancient portrait, piously handed down from father to son in the Talou lineage, that depicted the two Spanish sisters who had married Suann.
Juillard gladly assumed the task of drawing up this proclamation, which would decorate the altar that Chènevillot had already built in his mind.
Alongside these various details, a curious minor role was to be played by the actual body of the unfortunate Yaour.
The tip of the lance on which the emperor had impaled the late king was, like many Ponukelean weapons, coated with a virulent poison that not only caused certain death but also possessed the strange property of retarding putrefaction of the bodily tissues.
The corpse of the illustrious nemesis could therefore, even after an extended delay, be displayed for the ceremony beneath the wilted rubber tree formerly dedicated to the race of Yaours.
As the emperor saw it, this humiliation imposed on the cursed plant demanded, by contrast, a glorious decoration for the palm tree that Talou IV had later planted.
The painter Toresse was chosen to create a commemorative sign recalling the now-distant restoration, which fell on exactly the same date as the tree’s original planting.
Sirdah further informed us that the day of the coronation would also see the deaths of all the convicts, with Rao as executioner.
Gaiz-duh, whose request for a sumptuous reward had been met only by this reply from the emperor: “You are a traitor, and you shall be punished as a traitor,” was to be beheaded with an axe; its blade, made of a special wood as hard as steel, could prevent blood from spattering.
The soles of Mossem’s feet would be seared with a red-hot poker, which would etch one by one the mendacious characters that he himself had inscribed on Sirdah’s death certificate.
Rul would perish speared by the long golden needles that for so many years had ornamented her hair; their tips would pierce her flesh through the eyelets in the red corset, now reduced to rags by excess wear.
For Jizme, the emperor, whose imagination had run dry, asked us to suggest some torture common in our country. Chènevillot then had a thought that both spared the condemned woman any suffering and had the added advantage of possibly staying the execution for a very long time. Among his supplies, the architect had a late-model lightning rod, which he’d intended for the castle of Baron Ballesteros. It would be a simple matter, at the next severe electrical storm, to connect Jizme to the conducting wire of the apparatus and let her be electrocuted by the clouds. Now, since inclement weather was a rare occurrence in Ejur, it was not unlikely that some unforeseen event might deliver the poor unfortunate before the next bolt of lightning struck.
The industrious Nair’s life would be spared because of the snares he constructed and their usefulness in killing mosquitoes. But, for the author of the illuminated love note addressed to Jizme, simple imprisonment without torture apparently constituted too gentle a punishment. Talou wanted to build at the edge of Trophy Square a kind of pedestal to which they’d attach the snare Seil-kor had set one certain evening. Condemned to perpetual immobility and barely allowed room to stretch out for sleep, Nair, his foot collared
by the noose that had already proven fatal to him once before, would labor without respite to fashion his delicate traps. To add emotional torment to the exasperating physical constraint, the bowler hat, suede glove, and illustrated letter, the true instruments of his ridiculous misadventure, would be placed forever within his sight.
To round out the roster of those attending the coronation, Talou demanded that a prison be built, from which the convicts, the living proof of his absolute power, might witness his triumph.
After delivering this sinister news, Sirdah related a happier event scheduled for the day of the gala. This was her own cure by the sorcerer Bashkou, who was now under Talou’s authority. In his impatience, the emperor had wanted to bring his daughter to the skillful healer immediately following the Battle of the Tez. But Sirdah had refused to regain her sight on a day stained by so much bloodshed. She preferred to keep this additional joy for the coronation day, already blessed by her father’s dazzling glorification.
A few words concerning the Montalescots concluded Sirdah’s mandate.
In the emperor’s eyes, Louise deserved the supreme punishment merely because of her amorous liaison with his mortal enemy, every trace of whom had to be eradicated. Talou went so far as to include the inoffensive Norbert in the hatred inspired by everything that, directly or indirectly, had enjoyed Yaour’s favor. But Sirdah had adroitly piqued her father’s curiosity by describing the great discovery that haunted the young woman; eager to see the planned apparatus function, Talou had decided to suspend judgment of the student, who remained free to pursue her labors.
A week was all Chènevillot needed to complete his new projects.
At the north of Trophy Square rose a small altar with several steps preceding it; opposite, on the south side, stretched a prison intended for the convicts and, not far from the Incomparables’ theater, rose a wooden pedestal, furnished with all the requisite accessories, on which Nair was immediately placed.
Impressions of Africa (French Literature Series) Page 26