by John Norman
Both were concerned, though neither spoke of the matter, at the strange feelings which had been precipitated in their bodies.
They now knew that they were different from what they had been before.
“Away! Away!” cried the retainer with the torch, thrusting it in the direction of the vi-cat, which then snarled, but turned about, and padded back to the woods.
The gate was then closed, and secured.
“Dear Princesses,” said Abrogastes, turning to the positioned princesses, “we shall consider your petition. If we see fit to accept it, you will sit upon jeweled thrones and be the mothers of emperors. If we do not accept it, you will be collared and sold on far mud worlds, never to be heard of again in the empire. Do you understand?”
“Yes, great Lord,” said Viviana.
“Yes, great Lord,” said Alacida.
Abrogastes then turned to one of his armsmen. “Herd these two imperial sows back, as they are, on all fours, head down, to the hall, and then place them on their bellies, before the high seat. We will consider whether or not to chain them, naked, later.”
“Yes, Lord,” said the armsman, and he thrust a whimpering Viviana forward, with the butt of his spear.
When the princesses were out of earshot, Ingeld turned to Abrogastes. “Things may not proceed as easily as envisaged, father,” he said.
“Let us suppose,” said Abrogastes, “the princesses now understand two things, that they are women, and where their best interests lie.”
“Things are not so simple, father,” said Ingeld. “Surely one needs more than the mere acquiescence of princesses in this matter. There is the acceptance of such things, by the empire, the throne, the senate. Who would honor, or ratify, a putative union supposedly formed faraway on a foreign world? Is it to be taken seriously? Might it not have been enacted under duress? Is it authentic, genuine, meaningful?”
“I have made arrangements,” said Abrogastes. “The marriages will take place in Telnar itself, openly, and publicly. They will be proclaimed broadly, throughout the empire; they will be anticipated eagerly; they will be celebrated with elaborate ceremony, with detailed pomp and pageantry, with formality and complex ritual. All will look forward to this most desired consummation, bearing in its train peace and the union of peoples.”
“I find it hard to believe these arrangements would be entered into by the throne,” said Ingeld.
“The throne is not the only force in Telnaria,” said Abrogastes.
“I do not understand,” said Ingeld.
“The marriages will be performed by the Exarch of Telnar himself,” said Abrogastes. “He will bestow on them the supposed blessing of a faith. Interestingly, some take such things seriously. In short, he will allegedly, in the foolishness he propagates, solemnize things, sanctify matters, and so on. Advantages obtain in such a procedure. We gain standing and legitimacy, and he gains prestige and power. We serve each other. We play his stupid game and his game, in our playing of it, is confirmed as the game to play.”
“I think,” said Ingeld, “the exarch has more in mind.”
“Why should you think that?” asked Abrogastes.
“It is a thought, I have,” said Ingeld, warily.
“You are right,” said Abrogastes. “He wants to own the empire. “The koos, whatever that is, is to be superior to the fist. The fist is to fight for the koos, obey the koos, do the work of the koos, and so on. In this way the koos gets its way and does not have to risk skinning its own knuckles.”
“Who knows,” asked Ingeld, “what the koos wants?”
“That is made clear by the spokesman for the koos,” said Abrogastes.
“The exarch,” said Ingeld.
“Of course,” said Abrogastes.
“Surely, if we obtain the empire, by our steel, our ships, our blood, our toil, you would not surrender it to some sleek, cowardly, pernicious fraud,” said Ingeld.
“Fortunately for frauds, they are few,” said Abrogastes. “Otherwise they could not batten with impunity on the trust of the many. They take advantage of the honesty and decency of the many. A population of frauds would soon have no frauds or be extinct.”
“It seems so,” said Ingeld. “But surely you would not surrender a won prize to the deceit and contrivance of an ambitious spectator.”
“Perhaps the spectator might make the prize more accessible,” said Abrogastes.
“I do not understand,” said Ingeld.
“An interesting thing about liars and frauds,” said Abrogastes, “is that they do not expect to be lied to, or defrauded. They assume that those with whom they deal dishonestly will deal honestly with them.”
“And they may not?” said Ingeld.
“I see no harm in betraying the betrayer, in doing treason to the treasonous, in lying to the liar, in defrauding the fraudulent.”
“You would use the exarch for your ends, as he would use you for his?” said Ingeld.
“Yes,” said Abrogastes. “And, if necessary, or if it seems judicious, he can always be martyred at one’s convenience. The sword of the fist has a clear advantage over that of the koos. It exists. The sword of the koos is helpless without the sword of the fist; the sword of the fist, as it is real, does not need the sword of the koos.”
“The princesses are scarcely in a condition to participate in the splendor of some imperial wedding,” said Ingeld.
“They can be washed up, brushed and combed,” said Abrogastes. “Too, it would not do to put them muddy in the tiny kennels I have prepared for them.”
“We brought them from Telnar with only the clothes on their backs,” said Ingeld, “and those, thanks to the attentions of your armsmen, are in shreds.”
“Do not fear,” said Abrogastes. “We will look after our lovely guests. We will fit them out, appropriately. They will have gowns and jewels, tiaras, entire wardrobes. They will awe multitudes.”
“I think there is little of that sort here,” said Ingeld, “wardrobes, tiaras, and such. This is Tenguthaxichai. This is a little-known world, rude, simple, unspoiled, little settled, known to few but Alemanni.”
“Our agents have been in touch with gown-and-jewel merchants on four worlds, including Telnaria,” said Abrogastes. “The merchants contacted will know nothing of princesses. They will think their goods are sought for the daughters of kings.”
“How will they find Tenguthaxichai?” asked Ingeld.
“Gold has been bestowed, ships may be hired, coordinates will be supplied,” said Abrogastes.
“Surely it will be difficult to keep such things secret,” said Ingeld.
“Certainly,” said Abrogastes.
“Do you know which merchants our agents have contacted?” asked Ingeld.
“No, but several,” said Abrogastes.
“There is then danger,” said Ingeld.
“No,” said Abrogastes.
“Yes, dear father,” said Ingeld. “Unwelcome visitors, agents of the empire, impostors, pirates, raiders, spies.”
“Of course,” said Abrogastes.
“You expect them?”
“Yes.”
“Then you see the danger,” said Ingeld.
“No,” said Abrogastes. “Those contacted by our agents will have something impostors will not.”
“What, father?” asked Ingeld.
“The password,” said Abrogastes.
Chapter Fifty-Two
“Have you seen the daughters of the kings?” inquired Rurik, politely, of a saffron robed, turbaned fellow.
“Yes,” he said, “four days ago. Do you wish to sell your slave?”
“No,” said Rurik, “not now.” Then he turned to the kneeling slave. “Get your head to the floor!” he snapped.
“Yes, Master,” said the slave.
“She is nicely tunicked,” said t
he turbaned fellow.
“She is not now chained to my couch,” said Rurik.
“You are of the Larial Farnichi, are you not?” asked the turbaned fellow.
“Yes,” said Rurik.
Doubtless his interlocutor’s supposition was based on the recognition of the emblem, that inscribed in the circular patch sewn into Rurik’s jacket, at the left shoulder, that of the five-petaled Pin Flower.
“A great merchant house,” said the turbaned fellow.
“We have such interests, amongst others,” said Rurik.
“A pretty slave,” said the turbaned fellow.
“I am still training her,” said Rurik.
“The whip and switch are useful in such training,” said the fellow.
“This slave lives in terror of both,” said Rurik. “I need only glance at the whip or switch and she strives ever more earnestly to please.”
“Is her training going well?” asked the fellow.
“Quite well,” said Rurik. “She is extremely intelligent, and well aware of the penalties for being found in the least bit displeasing.”
“She bellies, and licks, and kisses well?” said the fellow.
“Of course,” said Rurik.
“By now, she has doubtless felt the Master’s caress,” said the fellow.
“Yes,” said Rurik.
“That changes them,” said the fellow.
“Of course,” said Rurik.
“Women are pleasant in collars,” said the fellow.
“They belong in them,” said Rurik.
“What else are they good for, but to wear a Master’s collar?”
“True,” said Rurik.
“It is interesting how the collar brings a woman so alive, and renders them so needfully helpless.”
“Iron bands are not the strongest of bonds,” said Rurik. “You say you saw the daughters of the kings four days ago?”
“I understand the lamentable disagreements between the Larial Calasalii and the Larial Farnichi have been resolved.”
“Quite,” said Rurik.
“Larial VII is now a Farnichi world?”
“Within the empire, of course,” said Rurik.
“It is said that the Calasalii women now belong to Farnichi Masters.”
“Some, many, not all,” said Rurik. “But it is true that they were put in collars.”
“This slave?” asked the fellow.
“She may have been the last apprehended,” said Rurik.
“But she was of the Calasalii?”
“Yes,” said Rurik.
“It is always pleasant to enslave the women of the enemy, and enjoy them,” said the fellow.
“Yes,” said Rurik.
“My house,” said the turbaned fellow, “had difficulty dealing with the Calasalii.”
“Many did,” said Rurik.
“Perhaps the Farnichi might be easier to deal with.”
“Perhaps,” said Rurik.
“My house,” said the fellow, “is interested in an outlet on Larial VII.”
“Perhaps such might be arranged,” said Rurik. “What of the daughters of the kings?”
“Let us speak to the side,” said the fellow.
Rurik, quite willingly, followed the turbaned fellow to the side of the room.
“My delegation has done well here,” said the turbaned fellow. “We have sold plentifully and reaped much profit.”
“Splendid,” said Rurik. “May my house do as well. Tell me of the daughters of kings.”
“There are two,” said the merchant. “Their names are withheld, and those of the fathers.”
“Strange,” said Rurik.
“Both are young and beautiful,” said the turbaned fellow, “one is blond, and one dark. They were already, when we presented our goods, richly gowned and bejeweled. They seemed discriminating and astute in their judgment of women’s finery. Yet, oddly, they scarcely would bargain. Almost, we could name our own prices. Both seemed subdued, even apprehensive.”
“You do not understand these things?” asked Rurik.
“No,” said the fellow, “and that is why I speak softly, and to the side. Something, I fear, is amiss.”
“My curiosity is aroused, fellow merchant,” said Rurik. “What were their accents?”
“I make them out to be Telnarian,” said the fellow.
“Interesting,” said Rurik.
“They are the daughters of rich merchants, I conjecture,” said the fellow, “merchants who would barter their daughters’ beauty for lucrative trade relations with barbarian nations.”
“Quite possibly,” said Rurik, “but might they not be what, it seems, they are alleged to be, the daughters of kings, presumably barbarian kings, who wish to form alliances with other barbarian kings.”
“The accents?” said the fellow.
“The daughters of many kings are trained in languages, and certainly in imperial Telnarian. It is the common language in Telnaria, and in the provincial worlds, and the common second language in hundreds of border worlds, and many in the high barbarian houses are fluent in the tongue.”
“You are doubtless right,” said the fellow, “but, still, should the times of readying for marriage not be times of eagerness, of anticipation, and joy?”
“One would suppose so,” said Rurik.
“You have not yet been called to present your goods?” asked the fellow.
“It seems we are being held for later,” said Rurik.
“And some others, as well,” said the fellow.
“It seems so,” said Rurik.
“I trust you will make much profit,” said the fellow.
“Thank you,” said Rurik. “We shall hope so.”
“We shall contact Larial VII, to essay a mutually agreeable mercantile arrangement with the house of the Farnichi,” said the fellow.
“Do so, by all means,” said Rurik.
“One last thing causes me uneasiness, with respect to the daughters of the kings,” said the fellow.
“What is that?” asked Rurik.
“It is something I do not understand,” said the fellow.
“What?” said Rurik.
“In the reception chamber, there is a large, heavy metal ring, set in the floor.”
“So?” said Rurik.
“The daughters of the kings are chained to it,” he said, “each, by an ankle.”
Chapter Fifty-Three
“I am uneasy,” said Julian. “Why this delay?”
“Others wait, as well,” said Otto, looking about.
In the trading hall, where Julian, Otto, and Tuvo Ausonius waited, with their bolts of cloth and flat, lacquered boxes of jewels, were at least eleven other mercantile delegations, these, too, occupying benches arranged around large display tables.
One would be summoned from the trading hall, used for bulk trading, to the private, more exclusive selling chamber, the reception chamber, provided the preliminary ascertainments of abundance and quality, these made by agents, had been deemed satisfactory. This portion of the business had already been concluded satisfactorily, and our friends, and some others, were now waiting for an opportunity to bring their goods to the attention of buyers, presumably, in this case, the daughters of kings, selecting goods for a trousseau.
“Do you think we are taken seriously as gown-and-jewel merchants?” asked Tuvo Ausonius.
“Why not?” asked Julian.
“You would seem more in place on the bridge of an imperial cruiser,” said Tuvo, “and friend Ottonius might seem more at home on some leaf-strewn path in a dark forest, a bow in hand.”
“Rurik, then,” said Julian. “The house of the Farnichi is a great trading house.”
“Perhaps,” said Tuvo Ausonius.
�
�He even brought a slave with him,” said Julian.
“Doubtless as an accouterment to his disguise,” said Tuvo.
“Doubtless,” said Julian. “Still, some men are fond of their little beasts, and it is pleasant to have one at one’s feet.”
“I doubt that he would risk a valued slave in our desperate enterprise,” said Tuvo.
“One supposes he would not,” said Julian. “He is of the Farnichi, and the slave, as I understand it, was of the Calasalii. If so, she is fortunate not to have been thrown to dogs or wolves.”
“I know the slave,” said Otto. “Once, when she thought herself free, she tried to kill me.”
“Surely you are mistaken,” said Julian.
“No,” said Otto.
“In any event,” said Julian, “there is little point in worrying about that now, she now in a collar, and well at Rurik’s feet.”
“Do you not remember her, from Tangara?” asked Otto.
“From Tangara?” said Julian.
“From the wilderness camp,” said Otto.
“Surely she is not the one!” said Julian.
“You saw her, briefly,” said Otto.
“Yes!” said Tuvo Ausonius.
“She was soon marked and sold to Heruls,” said Otto.
“She is so different!” said Julian.
“Yes,” said Otto. “Now she is not only collared, but now knows herself collared.”
“I did not recognize her,” said Julian. “She is far more beautiful now.”
“Surely,” said Otto, “the collar does much for the beauty of a woman, in a thousand dimensions.”
“It is more than a collar,” said Julian.
“Of course,” said Otto. “It is the being of a slave.”
“She was the one, the assassin planted by Iaachus amongst slave girls?” said Julian.