The Emperor

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by Norman, John;


  “Ah!” he said.

  “Look away, kind sir,” she begged.

  With this understandable request he immediately, thoughtfully, complied.

  “Forgive me, sir,” she said. “I shall detain you no longer.”

  “Perhaps” he said, “you might write to me again sometime, to discuss points of law.”

  “Perhaps,” she said. “We must wait and see.”

  He then bowed, and continued on his way.

  The Lady Gia Alexia, who knew herself to be very beautiful, was much pleased. Indeed, some had speculated, privately, of course, that she might even be beautiful enough to stand stripped on a slave shelf, chained and collared, with a sales placard hung about her neck. Beautiful women sell best, of course. What man does not want one or more beautiful slaves?

  “I have kindled a fire,” she thought. “It is now up to me to see if I shall stoke it, or feed it, or refuse it, depriving it of fuel, leaving behind only agony and ashes. Certainly I shall manage it, regulate it, and make use of it as I will. Fire is useful, very useful.”

  Looking after Titus Gelinus, she wondered what might be his business with the senate. Certainly he was not a senator.

  Could it be, she wondered, that the senate might now be in session, that a secret meeting was in progress?

  The peal of the bells was meanwhile continuing, celebrating the accession of a new emperor, Ottonius, the First.

  Chapter Four

  “We shall soon be returned to the palace!” said blond-haired Viviana.

  “It is all arranged,” said Sidonicus, his weighty, thoughtful, swollen, purple-clad figure, content, now grievously sessile, settled comfortably in the flattened cushions of the broad, towering chair of the exarch, a chair designed to resemble, or rival, the imperial throne. His eyes seemed half shut, given the fatness of his cheeks, and his short, pudgy fingers played with the golden replica of a burning rack, slung on its chain about his neck. It was on such a device, long ago, that the prophet, Floon, an Ogg, had been incinerated, only to appear later, it seems, unharmed, in a thousand forms on a thousand worlds. It is easier to take seriously the words of a prophet when it wears the genetic cloak of one’s own species.

  “You are confident in the matter?” asked thin, uneasy, crafty-eyed Ingeld, from behind the latticework of the golden screen which separated him and his brother, Hrothgar, from Sidonicus, and the princesses, Viviana and Alacida. Such screens, openly latticed, had separated Ingeld and Viviana, and Hrothgar and Alacida, during the lengthy ceremony in the temple. Now, from the interior of the room, given the lighting, supplied by means of candles, one could note Ingeld and Hrothgar as little more than shadowy figures on the other side of the screen and, presumably, to Ingeld and Hrothgar, the figures in the room, Sidonicus, Viviana, and Alacida, despite the lighting, would not have appeared much better. Similar screens, widely latticed that they might be easily seen through, had separated the brides and grooms during the ceremony. The symbolism seems to be that that which separates men from women is golden. In most Floonianism, which was characterized by dozens of sects, with different theologies and practices, sex was regarded rather along the lines of being, if not a necessary evil, at least a dangerous temptation which might lure one away from the life of the koos, which was invisible and for which no evidence existed. It remained an inexplicable mystery why Karch had not arranged a more sober and less interesting way of reproducing a species. It did not seem to occur to most Floonians that Karch, if it existed, might have known what it was doing. Floon himself did not seem to express himself on this matter. Rather it was inferred by others, usually generations later, what he might have said if he had chosen to say something. Floon’s failure to express himself on the matter was most likely not the result of his having reservations about sex, or disapproving of it, say, for its possibility of distracting one from, or interfering with, the pursuit of the life of the koos, as the result of his not having any interest in the matter, as he seems to have been a salamanderine neuter, like many others of his species.

  On the other hand, perhaps the question was, what does biology have to do with the koos? Indeed, if there is no such thing as a koos, one might wonder what anything might have to do with it. Reasonably clearly, if there is no such thing as a koos, biology cannot threaten it, nor, indeed, could anything else threaten it. As it does not exist, it is quite safe. Why then, assuming, as a possibility, there is no such thing as a koos, as there does not seem to be, why should someone invent it? What would it be good for? As it turns out, it could be good for many things.

  Let us think about the matter.

  First of all, the koos is different from the body and, as defined, is superior to the body. You are not really what you seem to be, but something else. You are essentially a koos. Indeed, it is not clear why you would even need a body. It seems unnecessary. The body, at any rate, is the house of the koos, its temporary residence. Moreover, the body can make things difficult for the koos. It is also not clear why Karch would have arranged things in this fashion, but that is a mystery, beyond human understanding, as is often the case. On the other hand, if the koos is a human invention, things fall into place nicely.

  Let us think further about the matter.

  Human beings have needs, for example, to breathe, eat foods, drink fluids, and so on. Suppose it were now practical to condition human beings in such a way as to be ashamed of breathing, eating, drinking, and such, and to regard such things as regrettable, demeaning, weak, unworthy, degrading, and so on, as being, say, second best to, or inferior to, not breathing, starving, thirsting, and so on. How grateful they would then be, to be allowed, at certain times, and under certain conditions, to be permitted to breathe, eat, or drink. The device is psychologically simple. Create guilt, incredibly enough in connection with something natural, inevitable, and wonderful, indeed, something biologically central to human existence, and then make a living from this crime. This trick, rather clearly, will not work where breathing, eating, and drinking are concerned. People would die. In the case of sex, on the other hand, things are much more promising. Where sex is concerned, one is likely, in most cases, to be no more than sick and miserable, though, to be sure, lives can be shortened and minds lost. Sex provides a splendid field for guilt manipulators, many of whom have succumbed to the same disease they, often, in their innocence, would foist on others. In most of the religions in the Telnarian Empire, on the other hand, sex is accepted gratefully, even with rejoicing, most often as a gift of the gods.

  The guilt industry, on the other hand, proceeds as follows.

  Disparage a natural part of life, a basic human need, the expression of which is inevitable, and, indeed, biologically central to human life. Produce suspicion and fear. Manufacture shame. Create guilt. Then one rations sex, parceling it out, refusing it, withholding it, permitting it, and so on.

  One controls the mind.

  One reaps the profit.

  One administers poison and then sells the antidote.

  “How long am I to remain behind this screen?” shouted Hrothgar, not pleased.

  “Be patient,” said Ingeld.

  Alacida shuddered.

  “Not long, my son,” said Sidonicus, in a kindly, tolerant fashion.

  The ministrants of Floon often spoke so. In this way, they implicitly placed their interlocutor in a position of inferiority, or subordination, as might be a child to a wise and knowing parent, which higher role they implicitly arrogated to themselves.

  “I am not your son,” said Hrothgar. “I am the son of Abrogastes, king of the Drisriaks, first tribe of the Alemanni.”

  “It is a way of speaking,” purred the exarch.

  “If you do not touch women, as you claim,” said Hrothgar, “how could you have a son?”

  “He could adopt one,” said Viviana, annoyed.

  “Alas,” said Sidonicus, “I may not even do that.�


  “Or have one willed to you,” said Viviana.

  “Impossible,” said Sidonicus.

  “How then could you have a son?” asked Viviana, puzzled.

  “It is a manner of speaking,” said Sidonicus.

  “I thought,” said Ingeld, who had inquired into certain doctrinal matters, “parenthood was ascribed, or the expression justified, in virtue of a ministrant’s smudging with oil imported from one of the sacred pools of Zirus.”

  “Quite true,” said Sidonicus, “but I think that origin is a bit far-fetched. For example, it would scarcely justify a ministrant’s using the expression ‘son’ of those whom he had not smudged.”

  “I see,” said Ingeld.

  “To be sure,” said Sidonicus, “matters might change.”

  “Unfolding revelation?” said Ingeld.

  “Precisely,” said Sidonicus.

  It should be noted here that Ingeld and Hrothgar had not the least reservations pertaining to sex, no more than to breathing, eating, drinking, and such, nor, for that matter, neither had Viviana and Alacida. It would not have occurred to them. Indeed, such reservations would pertain to few in the empire, save those who had been instructed in the tenets of Floonianism. Floon himself had been deprived of that advantage. Should he have exercised the poor judgment of reappearing in the empire, not only might he not recognize the religion founded in his name, but he would be at risk for heresy, and, most likely, at least in certain quarters, be subjected for a second time to the horrors of the burning rack.

  “You do these things through the mind,” said Ingeld.

  “Of course,” said Sidonicus.

  “You would seek to control even thoughts?” said Ingeld.

  “Particularly thoughts,” said Sidonicus, “as they are wayward, unpredictable, and uncontrollable.”

  “And natural feelings, natural urges?” said Ingeld.

  “Of course,” said Sidonicus.

  “You tell them they must not think of a blue torodont, and, then, naturally, they cannot help but think of a blue torodont?” asked Ingeld.

  “Do not make my work difficult,” said Sidonicus.

  “You would make them feel ashamed of natural feelings, natural urges?” asked Viviana.

  “Let us speak of more pressing matters,” said Sidonicus.

  “That is the trick,” said Ingeld. “You make them believe they have done wrong, for this thought or that deed, fill them with apprehension, guilt, and shame, make them miserable and frightened, and then you offer to remove the wrong, for which kindness they are tearfully grateful, the charge for the removal of the wrong, the rescue, the forgiveness, and such, being coin, supporting the ministrants, maintaining the temples, and so on.”

  “Orak would not behave so abominably,” said Viviana.

  “Orak is a false god,” said Sidonicus.

  “How do you know?” asked Viviana.

  “I see this as very clever,” said Ingeld, “where one can get away with it, a shrewd business, an interesting way to earn a living, a fascinating way to gain prestige, to become important, to garner power, and such, but what I do not understand is how anyone could take it seriously.”

  “That is a great problem,” said Sidonicus, “particularly at first, as the holy truths of faith are likely to seem farcical gibberish to the unenlightened mind.”

  “True,” said Viviana.

  “It is a problem,” said Sidonicus.

  “How does one obtain an enlightened mind?” asked Viviana.

  “By accepting the holy truths of faith,” said Sidonicus.

  “Supporting the ministrants and the temples,” said Ingeld, “is little enough, I suppose, to pay for having an infinitely valuable koos, which makes one inestimably important, and a chance to sit forever at the table of Karch.”

  “What if,” asked Viviana, “they die and, having died, are dead?”

  “Then,” said Ingeld, “they will never learn they were wrong. They will suffer not the least disappointment.”

  “They will have sacrificed their entire life, their one life, for a lie,” said Viviana.

  “Many men,” said Ingeld, “sacrifice their life for one lie or another.”

  “True,” said Sidonicus. “What does it matter?”

  “I suppose some lies are better than other lies,” said Viviana.

  “Certainly,” said Ingeld, “some are more profitably exploited than others.”

  “Many men,” said Sidonicus, “wish to believe in something, and it is easiest to believe in what one wants to believe.”

  “And you, and others, will give them something they would like to believe,” said Ingeld.

  “It is a kindness,” said Sidonicus.

  “One fools oneself?” said Viviana.

  “One is kind to oneself,” said Sidonicus.

  “It is still difficult for me to understand how you manage to perpetrate your fraud,” said Ingeld.

  “The true faith,” said Sidonicus, reprovingly. “You do touch upon a sensitive point, namely, the offense to reason, plausibility, likelihood, evidence, and such. Ideally, one begins with children, ignorant, trusting little brutes, who will believe whatever they are told.”

  “In capturing the child,” said Ingeld, “you capture the man.”

  “That is the hope,” said Sidonicus.

  “They are victims, defenseless victims,” said Viviana.

  “Dear daughter,” said Sidonicus, “one prefers ‘fortunate beneficiaries’.”

  “Am I truly spoused?” inquired Hrothgar, from behind the golden screen.

  “Of course,” said Sidonicus.

  “According to the rites of the exarch,” said Ingeld.

  “I am not truly spoused,” said Hrothgar.

  A small squeak of surprise emanated from Alacida.

  “How is that?” asked Sidonicus.

  “I have given no horses, no dogs, no cattle, no pigs for her,” said Hrothgar, “not even one pig.”

  “Such things are not necessary,” said Sidonicus.

  “One pays even for a slave,” said Hrothgar, “unless one takes her by force.”

  An apprehensive sound escaped Alacida.

  “I assure you,” said Sidonicus, “you are spoused.”

  “According to the rites of the exarch,” said Ingeld, “no matter how absurd, pointless, empty, fraudulent, or silly they may be.”

  “Please,” protested Sidonicus.

  “How long then,” said Hrothgar, growling behind the screen, as though it might be the bars of a cage, “until I seize the royal slut and tear away her robes?”

  “I am sure we are both eager, brother,” said Ingeld, “but be patient. This is the game of the exarch.”

  Hrothgar then, who was not noted for his patience, with his tasseled horse boot, kicked away the golden screen, violently, and it flew across the room with a rattle of metal, several of its flat, narrow pieces scattered about.

  Sidonicus rose from the exarch’s throne, aghast, while Viviana leaped back, and Alacida screamed.

  “So much for your golden screen!” said Hrothgar, glaring at the startled exarch.

  Ingeld interposed himself between Hrothgar and the exarch.

  “Patience, brother,” counseled Ingeld. “This is the exarch’s game. Another may be played at another time.”

  Hrothgar leaned forward, menacingly. Ingeld was a slighter man than Hrothgar, who was an arn bear of a man, but Ingeld held his ground. For all his temper, and size, Hrothgar commonly yielded to Ingeld, granting Ingeld’s depth and shrewdness. Too, Ingeld was the older brother, which, amongst the Alemanni, conscious of order and hierarchy, was important. The first son of Abrogastes was Ortog, who had left the Drisriaks, to found his own tribe, the Ortungen. This secessionist movement was defeated by Abrogastes, and its remnants sc
attered. Most believed that Ortog had been killed by Abrogastes on Tenguthaxichai. Ingeld was the second son of Abrogastes. Hrothgar seems to have been either the third or fourth son of Abrogastes. The records are not clear on the matter. Similarly, it seems likely that Abrogastes, as was not uncommon with barbarians, particularly chieftains, kings, and high men, had more than one wife and a number of sons and daughters. The only offspring of Abrogastes on which we have explicit information, however, are Ortog, Ingeld, Hrothgar, and a daughter, Gerune, who had joined her bother Ortog, in his attempted secession.

  “How long!” demanded Hrothgar, scowling fiercely over Ingeld’s shoulder at the understandably uneasy exarch.

  “Alacida has fainted,” said Viviana, holding her sister in her arms.

  “Not long, my son, I mean, forgive me, noble Hrothgar,” said Sidonicus. “Not long, indeed. These glorious marriages may be soon consummated, in the palace itself. That is the place to do such things, for the sake of propriety, and appearance. Indeed, we may even dispense, by my personal exarchical dispensation, with the ten days allotted for the dismantling of the golden screens.”

  “Be patient, brother,” cautioned Ingeld, facing his brother, his hands on his brother’s arms.

  This advice drew only an angry, feral noise from Hrothgar, but he did not thrust his brother aside.

  As Hrothgar did not understand the reference to the golden screens, and various readers, as well, might find it obscure, a brief note would seem to be in order.

  The reference to the dismantling of the golden screen has to do with marital stipulations or prescriptions enjoined in a number of Floonian sects. The reader may recall that it was deemed golden to keep men and women apart. The marriage ceremony itself had taken place with brides and grooms separated by such screens. Such a screen, too, as has been noted, was emplaced in the exarch’s chamber to keep Viviana and Alacida separated from Ingeld and Hrothgar. The latticework of such screens, too, as has been noted, is such that the brides and grooms are well aware of one another’s presence, and proximity, and can even, in a sense, see one another. In this way, they are acutely, painfully, aware of one another’s presence. Then, in their own domicile, over a period of ten days, the screen is dismantled, bit by bit, to the accompaniment of prayers and condign services. Then, at the end of ten days, the screen removed, the couple, however regrettably, but necessarily, if offspring are to be produced, may consummate the marriage. It is recommended, of course, that this shameful, but necessary, act, be performed in the dark, under covers, as briefly as possible, and with as little pleasure as possible, as pleasure is inimical to the life of the koos. Needless to say, it is difficult to resist temptation, which Karch, for some reason, had made it difficult to resist, and, one supposes, it is occasionally yielded to, this lapse to be followed by regret, shame, guilt, and such, for which the ministrants of Floon are prepared to supply a remedy. And so it goes, on and on. The ministrants of Floon, of course, at least in theory, and doubtless often in practice, are celibate. It should also be added that normal Floonians, of limited means, are unlikely to have golden screens, at least screens of genuine gold. In their case, screens of baser metals, painted with gold paint, are used. These, suitably blessed, are obtained from ministrants, following the receipt of an appropriate donation.

 

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