The Honorable Barbarian

by L. Sprague De Camp

  "Oh, come in, come in! But waste not my time in useless chatter!"

  Kerin pushed open the door. He and Nogiri had their roller skates tied together over their shoulders. Within, Oshima was holding one end of a tube of glass while a spindly, frightened-looking apprentice held the other end.

  Oshima snapped: "Begone, Dong!" The apprentice scuttled out. Then to Kerin: "I take it you are learning to skate?"

  "Aye, sir," said Kerin.

  "Whence gat you the skates?"

  "We begged the honorable Hiei. As I said, how are you—"

  "You say you be from Mulvan?"

  "Aye, sir. But how—"

  "And your woman, from appearance and accent, is a Salimorese."

  "Aye, she is. But—"

  "That is odd. I have known other Mulvanians, but all were of much darker hue than you, like unto tea boiled all night long."

  Kerin made a desperate lunge for a plausible excuse: "I have been out of the sun much lately."

  "Hm, hm. I daresay you know your own origins, even though one could take you for one of those pallid, roundeyed barbarians from the Far West, who seldom reach the Empire. The honorable Aki dropped in a few days since, voicing suspicions of your authenticity; but he ever suspects the worst of barbarians. Well, what is your question? Hurry, now; I am a busy man!"

  "About the fan, sir. How goes it?"

  "It goes, but slowly. I need slabs of jade of a certain quality, for which I must needs send to Jade Mountain Province. What business is it of yours, anyway?"

  Kerin let his irritation show. "Very much my business, because you people won't let me go my way until the thing be tested."

  "Hm. Well, is there aught else?"

  "Nay, sir. But—"

  "Then good-day to you. Oh, Dong! Come back and get to work, you lazy losel!"

  "Damned old churl!" muttered Kerin as they closed the oratory door behind them. "I wonder he still has his head attached, despite the fear he inspires."

  "Be careful with him, my lord," said Nogiri. "Whatever his faults, he's a shrewd old curmudgeon."

  "Right, as usual," grumped Kerin.

  Kerin and Nogiri skated up to Hukuryu's tower outside the Prohibited Precinct. With them skated two soldiers in gleaming brass, to make sure that they were not lost or waylaid; and also, Kerin suspected, to see that they did not leave Chingun. The door in the tower opened to Kerin's knock, and a middle-aged Kuromonian bowed over clasped hands.

  "To whom owes this inferior person this visit?" said the man.

  Kerin explained that he was a traveler from afar who, hearing the marvels of Hukuryu's clock, had come to examine it, "if such inspection be permitted this humble barbarian," Kerin finished in Kuromonian style.

  "The honorable barbarian honors this incompetent caretaker," said the man, bowing. "Enter by all means."

  The interior was even noisier than the outside, so that Kerin had to raise his voice to converse. Shafts creaked, the escapement clattered, water splashed, and from time to time came an outburst of bells, drums, and gongs. Caretaker Zuikaku, a grandson of Hukuryu, was eager to explain the workings of his grandfather's clock:

  "This person is delighted to find a barbarian willing to learn the rudiments of civilization."

  The tower was about thirty-five feet high, counting the penthouse. Water, flowing through pipes and vessels, filled the thirty-six scoops of a water wheel, one after another. An escapement controlled the rotation of the wheel, allowing it to turn one scoop interval at a time. The wheel revolved once in nine hours, while water fell from the scoops into a basin below the wheel.

  The wheel turned a wooden shaft with iron bearings. This shaft, by means of a crown gear, turned a tall vertical shaft, which worked the other machinery. This included the armillary sphere in the penthouse and five large horizontal wheels bearing jacks. Some of these jacks, in the form of mannequins, bore signs to indicate the hours, the tenths of an hour, sunrise, sunset, and the watches of the night. Other jacks marked these events by ringing bells and beating gongs and drums.

  Kerin gave the most attention to the escapement. This was a system of tripping lugs, which held the water wheel against rotation until one scoop had been filled and then allowed it to move just far enough to bring the next scoop into the filling position.

  "Whence comes the water?" asked Kerin.

  "From the storage tank above. If the honorable barbarian will follow me up this ladder . . ."

  "Skates off first," said Kerin. When he had climbed to the second story, he asked: "What dost when the tank runs dry?"

  "Every day a convict is brought in to refill it," said Zuikaku. "He turns this crank, which pumps up water from the well."

  "Sir," said Kerin, "you have given me more information than my poor little barbarian mind can absorb all at once. I trust I may visit you again?"

  "This insignificant mechanic will be delighted, honored sir.''

  Skating back to the Prohibited Precinct, Kerin said in Salimorese: "That was too easy."

  Nogiri replied: "I should think you'd be pleased, to achieve your main goal without trouble."

  "That's just the point, dear. In my experience, when things seem too good to be true, it usually means that they are. Belinka was a nuisance in ways, but I wish she were here to warn us."

  In the cottage, Kerin spent the evening drawing diagrams on paper furnished by Hiei, showing the escapement mechanism. Apparently the Kuromonians had never heard of the quill pen. They used slender brushes, which gave Kerin much trouble until, by dogged experimentation, he learned to paint a fine line with one.

  Days passed; the heat of summer waxed. Since the air of the city was less humid than those of Kwatna and Koteiki, Kerin minded it less. With his escort he revisited Hukuryu's clock tower to compare his drawing of the escapement with the actual thing. Wearing a Kuromonian clerk's jacket and cap, he roamed the corridors of the great departmental buildings unchallenged.

  Once in the building of the Department of Roads, Canals, and Shipping he passed the stout Third Assistant Secretary Aki in the hall. A glower flickered across Aki's bespectacled face and then faded into bland impassivity. Neither spoke.

  One evening, when Kerin was trying with little success to master Kuromonian ideographic writing, a messenger boy arrived on skates, saying: "The honorable Kaga presents his compliments to the honorable barbarian Rao and requests the said Rao to meet him at the entrance to the Proscribed Palace at the third hour tomorrow. He is commanded to the Forbidden Interior.''

  After the boy had left, Nogiri asked: "Was nought said about me?"

  "Nay, darling. I suppose—"

  "Forget it! In this land women are of even less account than in mine own. You shall go whilst I wash your hose."

  Kerin found a cluster before the entrance to the Proscribed Palace. Kaga and Ushio were there, and Toga arrived just after Kerin. There were other officials as well.

  Toga touched Kerin's arm and beckoned. Aside he murmured: "Honorable Kerin, I trust you know the proper procedures in the Forbidden Interior?"

  "Hiei has rehearsed me."

  "Good! A word of warning. Rumor has it that the Son of Heaven is in an irritable frame of mind, for having had to leave his Summer Palace—a far more splendid residence than this old semiruin, with spacious grounds, bejewelled pavilions, duck ponds, and other amenities—to subject himself to the stifling heat of the Proscribed Palace. He would never have come had not his eunuchs convinced him that the importance of the deal over Ajendra's fan made his presence necessary. When he is in this mood, the least error in ceremony can cost the offender parts he were loath to part with, such as his head."

  "I'll do my best," said Kerin with a sinking heart.

  The doors groaned open, and a fat man called out in a squeaky voice: "Enter, honorables; the Ruler of the World awaits you."

  The soldiers at the entrance bowed as the bureaucrats passed between them. The fat man led the party to an audience hall, where a score of courtiers already stood at atten
tion. At the far end sat Emperor Dzuchen, swathed in voluminous robes of brilliant hues—scarlet, emerald, and gold—on a throne on a dais. The dais was five feet high, as if to make up for the fact that Dzuchen was a small man. He wore the towering, winged crown of state, bedight with peacock plumes and glittering with precious stones. Soldiers stood beside the dais, while eunuchs padded around it.

  The fat usher lined up the party in a single rank. He led them forward three paces; at a signal, all dropped to their knees and thrice touched their foreheads to the floor. Watching the others out of the corners of his eyes, Kerin followed their actions.

  All rose, advanced another three paces, and repeated the obeisance. They rose, advanced, and genuflected once more. All were careful not to look the Emperor squarely in the face, because of the pretense that one who did so would be blinded by his awful glory.

  "Rise!" said the Emperor. "Wizard Oshima, stand forth!"

  Oshima and his apprentice Dong stepped out from the shadows at the sides. Oshima held a large, costly-looking fan, which he started to hand up folded to the Emperor. Between the height of the dais, however, and the smallness of Oshima's stature, Dzuchen could not reach the fan unless he got off his throne and stooped. To avoid such a breach of imperial etiquette, Kerin called out:

  "Divine Autocrat, suffer this heap of slime to render aid!"

  Putting his hands atop the dais, he vaulted up, got a knee over the edge, and scrambled into a kneeling posture. He reached down, took the fan from the wizard, and handed it to Dzuchen.

  The courtiers traded startled looks. Kerin held his breath, uncertain whether to expect praise or instant condemnation. The Emperor said:

  "And the code book, good subjects!"

  Oshima produced the book from one of his baggy sleeves and handed it to Kerin, who gave it to the Emperor and lowered himself to the floor. His heart raced with apprehension. When he had climbed the dais, the act had seemed merely the normal, considerate thing to do; but among these etiquette-mad folk it might yet prove suicidal.

  Dzuchen opened the fan, exposing the painted dragon designs. He almost fanned himself but stopped in time. He muttered: "Curse this heat!" Kerin saw drops of sweat escape from under the huge crown and roll down the Emperor's face. Aloud Dzuchen said:

  "Our foremost task is to test this thing. Who will volunteer to be fanned away and returned to existence?"

  The courtiers exchanged regards again. There was a general shuffling of felt slippers as each tried to hide himself behind his neighbors.

  "What, no volunteers?" said Dzuchen, scanning the court.

  Oshima spoke: "O Superior One, my worthless apprentice, Goodman Dong, will be delighted to accept the honor!"

  The wizard pushed his apprentice forward. The lad rolled his eyes and uttered a faint croak. Kerin judged that the youth was too terrified to protest; he was on the verge of fainting.

  "Ah, just the thing!" said Dzuchen. Whipping open the fan, he leaned his body forward and swept the fan past Dong's intimidated face. The youth disappeared with a sound of displaced air.

  "Now to fetch him back here. . . ." murmured the Emperor, turning the pages.

  "Look under 'apprentice,' Your Imperial Majesty," said Oshima.

  Dzuchen found the reference. He folded the fan and tapped his left wrist four times and his forehead once. Instantly Dong reappeared. This time he did faint, slumping into a heap on the floor.

  "Guards!" barked the Emperor. "Revive this stripling, give him one golden half-dragon, and send him home for the day. Well done, Doctor Oshima! Now it remains but to meet our part of the bargain with King Lajpat." He fixed his gaze on Kerin. "Art not the youth who brought the specifications for the fan from Mulvan?"

  Kerin bowed deeply. "Indeed, Your Imperial Majesty, I am that negligible one."

  "You have achieved merit. You shall be rewarded with—"

  "O Sovran of the World!" cried a voice. "Your Imperial Majesty has been cozened, deceived, and put upon!"

  "Eh? What's this?" said Dzuchen. "Whoever spake, let him stand forth!"

  Third Assistant Secretary Aki strode forward, followed by another Kuromonian. The two dropped to their knees and touched their foreheads to the floor. When they did this a second time, Dzuchen snapped:

  "Enough formality; get to the point!"

  "Superhuman Sire," said Aki, "this puddle of filth has with him Master Litsun of Jobe, a respected merchant. He has just returned from his latest trading visit to Mulvan. On a previous journey, he met Wizard Ghulam and his chela Rao. Now he assures me that he who stands before you, professing himself that Rao, be nought of the sort."

  "Thine Ineffable Majesty!" cried Toga. "This mote of dust has proof that the self-styled Rao be indeed he! Behold, O Master of the Universe!"

  From one of his baggy sleeves, Toga produced the paper bearing the sketch by which he had identified Kerin at Koteiki. Heads, including the Emperor's, craned to view the picture. Aki cried:

  "O Sovran of the Universe, heed not this notorious barbarian-lover Toga! Anyone can draw a picture. How know we that he have not limned it within the hour, for this very purpose?"

  "Liar!" cried Toga. "You blind ass, this is the very paper you gave me to identify the barbarian—"

  "You white rabbit, ever truckling to dirty foreigners—"

  "You thing!" Both were screaming and waving fists.

  "You less-than-a-thing!" yelled Aki.

  "Shut up, both of you!" barked the Emperor. "Down on your bellies, to beg our divine forgiveness!"

  Both officials broke off and flopped down in the kotou, murmuring: "O Universal Ruler, forgive this heap of excrement. . . . O Surrogate of the Gods, pardon this slimy slug. . . ."

  After a few minutes, Dzuchen said: "Enough! Get up and continue the business at hand. Hold that drawing closer. Ah, it doth indeed match the features of our present Master Rao; doth it not, Aki?"

  "Now that I scrutinize it," said Aki, "I confess that it doth. How say you, Master Litsun?"

  "True," said Litsun; "but if this loathsome worm may offer his opinion, it also resembles the visage of the genuine Rao, the Mulvanian one. If he who stands before us be the true Rao, he must have been soaked in a tub of bleaching fluid. The other Rao, when I saw him last year, was as dark as if stained with walnut juice."

  The Emperor fixed his slit-eyed gaze on Kerin, with a nasty little smile. "Well, Master Rao—whichever of the twain you be—how answer you this, ere we sentence you to the hundred-cut dismemberment?"

  Kerin opened his mouth, but for a few heartbeats no sound came forth; such was the terror that gripped him. At last he pulled himself together. "Your Divine Majesty, it is true that I was darker of hue when I left my native land. Wights from my part of Mulvan are naturally lighter, but exposure to the sun in the more tropical sections darkens them. Since I have been traveling above three months and have been under cover much of that time, my skin has paled." Turning to Litsun, he spoke a rapid sentence in Mulvani that he had been mentally rehearsing: "How like you our northern weather for a change?"

  When the man hesitated in answering, Kerin added: "Now doubt you that I be an authentic Mulvanian?"

  Litsun spread his hands. "He seems to speak fluent Mulvani, albeit with an accent."

  "That is the normal speech of my province," said Kerin.

  "There appears to be more here than meets the eye," grumbled the Emperor. "Let us not rush to judgment but have the matter thoroughly and impartially investigated. Let us see; for inquisitors, whom shall we appoint—"

  At that instant the sweating Dzuchen, having absentmindedly opened the fan, fanned himself. Instantly the Emperor disappeared with a rush of air. The fan clattered to the dais.

  Outcries arose. Two guards who had stood beside the dais whipped out swords and rushed around the structure, peering around each corner as if expecting an assassin to spring upon them.

  "Master Rao!" cried the piercing croak of Wizard Oshima. "Secure the fan and code book, quickly!"

  His
wits keyed up, Kerin instantly saw the sense of the wizard's command. Whoever possessed the fan could dictate terms. He vaulted back atop the dais, snatched up the fan, and took the code book from where it lay on an arm of the throne.

  "Give them here!" cried Oshima, reaching up.

  "Why?" said Kerin. "Think you to make yourself Emperor?"

  "Nay, fool! Me, spend my days performing rituals, hearing petitions, and questioning spies? Rubbish! Nor could a foreign barbarian like you aspire to the throne. If we bring back Dzuchen, he may be grateful."

  "I'll do it," said Kerin, opening the book. Then he realized that the book was written in Kuromonian characters, of which he knew a mere handful.

  "Here!" he said, extending the book. "We must work together on this. You shall tell me the code whilst I do the raps."

  "Sense at last, I see," growled Oshima, turning pages. "Here we are: 'Emperor,' three left, three right, four head. No, no, idiot! By 'left' it means holding the fan in the right hand and rapping the left wrist, not holding it in the left!"

  Kerin went through the procedure. There was another foomp of air. A bulky man of late middle age, wearing a plain green robe over black silken trousers, materialized on the throne. On his head sat a round hat of a long-obsolete style, on top of which sparkled a diamond the size of a small hen's egg.

  Kerin started back, saying: "Who are you?"

  The man goggled, mumbling: "Who dares—what—where are we?" He stared about. "This looketh like unto our throne of audience, in our Proscribed Palace. . . . But all is different—the costumes, the décor—and we see none we know. Ye, young barbarian!" His speech had an archaic flavor.

  "Aye, sir?" said Kerin.

  "Who are ye?"

  "Rao the Mulvani, on a mission for the Emperor and the King of Mulvan."

  "What Emperor?"

  "His Imperial Majesty Dzuchen."

  "But we are—at least we were—the Emperor, Tsotuga the Fourth. How explainest that? We were having a quiet game of sachi with our Prime Minister, and then pfft! Here we are."

  "Superhuman Sire," said Oshima, looking up from the floor. "Suffer this pile of ordure to explain."