The Emperor

by Norman, John;

  “Perhaps,” said Otto.

  “I take it you have not come to kill me,” said Aesilesius.

  “No,” said Otto.

  “What is it you fear?” asked Aesilesius. “Of what would you warn me?”

  “Shortly, perhaps as early as tomorrow, and certainly within the next few days,” said Otto, “there will be a revolt. Thousands will swarm into the streets, muddled, exploited fanatics, and hundreds of others, as well, eager to take advantage of any disruption or breach of order, looters, killers, thieves, rapists, and arsonists, the unruly, cruel, vicious, destructive, greedy, and violent, those seeking anonymity and license.”

  “To be resisted and quelled by guardsmen, by soldiers?” said Aesilesius.

  “We do not know how guardsmen and soldiers will stand, what they will do,” said Otto. “They might join the mobs, shouting slogans of rightfulness. How do they think the wind is blowing? Is it not better to have it at one’s back? How seriously are civil oaths and pledges to be taken? In the ranks there may well be confusion, and mixed loyalties. One does not know. In a raging river most will follow the current. In any event, they are too few to stand against swarms of heedless, rushing filchen.”

  “Surely help might be sought,” said Aesilesius.

  “I have summoned auxiliaries, comitates, from Tangara,” said Otto.

  “Not from Tangara,” said Aesilesius, with dismay.

  “I have done so,” said Otto. “I can count on their loyalty. It is a matter of Spear Oaths, which you might find it difficult to understand.”

  “You would surrender Tangara to Heruls?” asked Aesilesius.

  “It is my hope not to do so,” said Otto.

  “Events transpire,” said Aesilesius.

  “Rapidly,” said Otto.

  “There is hope?” asked Aesilesius.

  “Very little,” said Otto. “Time is short. Abrogastes, the Far-Grasper, if no other, has precipitated events. The dogs of war are loose, and hasten to their feeding. We need time, and there is no time.”

  “All is lost?” said Aesilesius.

  “I fear so,” said Otto.

  “Why have you come to tell me this?” asked Aesilesius.

  “Because your life is in great danger,” said Otto.

  “I do not understand,” said Aesilesius. “I need but return to my calculated façade of idiocy, and survive, as the means whereby others rule, my mother, a new Arbiter of Protocol, some scion of a noble Telnarian family.”

  “It would not be so,” said Otto. “It is claimed that a child is born to the union of Ingeld, the Drisriak, and your sister, Viviana, who, if she did not die in childbirth, as is alleged, was doubtless done away with. That child would have royal blood. The coup effected, the child would be pronounced emperor, this predictably ratified by the senate, and Ingeld would rule as regent. In such an arrangement there would be no place for the embarrassment of an Aesilesius. He would not long survive. There are many ways to die, many seemingly natural. Doubtless his death would be publicly mourned.”

  “Poor Viviana,” said Aesilesius.

  “Think of yourself,” said Otto.

  “I have thought of myself too much, for too long,” said Aesilesius.

  “You could take a painless, quick-acting poison,” said Otto.

  “Would you do so?” asked Aesilesius.

  “No,” said Otto. “I would die fighting.”

  “I would do so, as well,” said Aesilesius.

  “You are not Otung,” said Otto.

  “I am Telnarian,” said Aesilesius.

  “Do not tell me that I look upon a man,” said Otto.

  “Whatever I may be,” said Aesilesius, “boy or not, man or not, I am he upon whom you look.”

  “I think now,” said Otto, “for the first time, I am proud to do so.”

  “One thing must be done, however,” said Aesilesius.

  “What is that?” asked Otto.

  “Nika must be provided for,” said Aesilesius. “She must be freed, given wealth, and placed safely somewhere, secretly.”

  “Do not be absurd,” said Otto. “She is a slave.”

  “Even so,” said Aesilesius.

  “It is not practical,” said Otto. “She is now part of your persona, your nurse, governess, confidante, informant, toy, and playmate. Were something to change, notice would be taken. Thoughts would soon spring from the soil of curiosity. Things must seem the same. Appearances must be maintained.”

  “I am to maintain the farce of imbecility?” asked Aesilesius.

  “In public, of course,” said Otto. “Do not let enemies suspect the truth. You are in quite enough danger, as it is.”

  “From you?” asked Aesilesius.

  “If you like,” said Otto.

  “From Ingeld, the Drisriak?” asked Aesilesius.

  “Certainly,” said Otto. “You would constitute a most grievous impediment to his plans. I can think of nothing which might more thoroughly put them into disarray.”

  “Thank you,” said Aesilesius, “for speaking to me of these things.”

  “I gave you words,” said Otto. “I hoped that you would be capable of hearing them.”

  “I have heard them,” said Aesilesius.

  “Let your meaningless collar slut know nothing of these things,” said Otto.

  “Why?” asked Aesilesius.

  “She is a slave,” said Otto.

  “Perhaps she may now return,” said Aesilesius.

  “Of course,” said Otto. “In the meantime, I suspect that the guards in the hall were not displeased to look upon her. She is an attractive slave. I trust you have found her so.”

  “Yes,” said Aesilesius. “I have found her so.”

  Chapter Sixty-Six

  “How is it, if you have been sold before, more than once, three or four times, you know so little?” asked Teela. “If you are at a post, back to the post, facing forward, your hands braceleted behind you, about the post, as now, or examined in a cell, chained on a shelf, or such, in good daylight, or in adequate torchlight, there is much you can do, or try to do. To be sure, if the slaver catches you at it, and disapproves, you will much regret your indiscretion. If the buyer interests you, if you want him to buy you, show him that, in a thousand ways, with smiles, with tiny movements, with parted lips, with sighs, with pleading looks. But you must be subtle. If he thinks you are being forward, you may be called to the attention of the slaver, which will probably result in a whipping, or, if you are fortunate, simply being cuffed. He wants you to be appealing, to be beautiful, and desirable, but he wants there to be no doubt that the decision is his, and his alone. Read the buyer. Sometimes it is good to pretend indifference, even disdain, that he will be tempted to have you at his feet, broken, subdued, conquered, and tamed, mastered, pleading for his caresses. If the buyer offends, or repulses, you, you might feign inertness, aimlessness, distraction, or stupidity. Who would want a stupid slave? A plain woman who is intelligent is far more interesting, exciting, and desirable a slave than a more beautiful woman who is dull.”

  “I think I am intelligent,” said Yana.

  “What is most fearful,” said Teela, “is the night auction, where you cannot well make out the buyers. It is much like voices shouting from a darkness. You are in the light; they are not. There you will perform, for most practical purposes, blindly. But be as desirable as you can, or you will feel the whip. Obviously the seller wants to make money on you. You might not even know who bought you until you are collected or delivered.”

  “I am afraid,” said Yana.

  “Here, at the post,” said Teela, pulling a bit at the bracelets which confined her hands together, behind the post, “it is easier. Needless to say, other things being equal, one would like to have a Master who is well fixed. In such a house, the chores are likely to be lighter
and the whip more likely to remain on its peg. So consider the apparent weight of his wallet, and hope he has not stuffed it with rocks or iron. Consider his carriage, his attitude, how he holds himself, his robes, his diction, and hope that such things are reliable indications of his background, station, and resources. Some men feign standing and background, assuming manners and robes misleading as to their station. Others may assume manners and garments beneath their station, to influence bargainings, to avoid envy and attention, or reduce the likelihood of finding themselves the target of cutpurses and thieves. Read the buyer, as best you can. And when in doubt, be beautiful, and hope for the best, hope for chains in which you will rejoice and thrive, and may even find love, for many men come to love, often despite themselves, the woman at their feet, a property which belongs to them, and them alone. They wish to own, and we wish to belong. They are master; we are slave.”

  “I understand,” said Yana.

  “Remember,” said Teela, “we are not free women. We are slaves. We are nothing. We are to serve and obey, unquestioningly and instantly, and with perfection, and, as we are not free, we must be prepared to give our masters, at any moment, in any manner they wish, inordinate pleasure.”

  “I want to do that,” said Yana. “I want to be a slave.”

  “It is what we want,” said Teela. “We are women.”

  “But I am afraid,” said Yana, pulling at her braceleted wrists, fastened together behind the post, “terribly afraid.”

  “Of course,” said Teela. “We are collared. We are marked. We are slaves. We are vulnerable, and absolutely helpless.”

  Yana moaned.

  “Be silent!” whispered Teela. “A man approaches!”

  When lovely Yana, sitting on a red carpet in a strange room, first discovered herself, as though awakening from a dream, and found herself a stranger to herself, she had no idea where she was or how she had come there. She did not know who she was, or had been, but, from her lack of clothing, the brand on her thigh, and the collar on her neck, there was no doubt as to what she now was; she was a slave.

  There was a jumble of discordant memories following the strange room, being chained with others, by an ankle or the neck, being herded about with switches, and occasionally feeling the sting of the same devices, the pans on the floor, learning to eat on all fours, the closed wagons, the ascending and descending, barefoot, of warmed, corrugated metal ramps, the unmarked ships roaring into the sky, being pressed against the metal flooring of the slave bin during their accelerations, the hosing down of the bins, the different slave camps, different spaceports, different ships, the holding stations, the being sorted into one lot or another, being vended in batches, learning to walk with shackled ankles, hoping not to be beaten, envying girls permitted tunics, and finally, outside some unknown town or city, on some world, being tied to a sales post.

  To introduce some order and coherence into the narrative, the strange room with the red carpet was at Tinos Station, on Tinos, a world which now lay within the sphere of influence of the Aatii. Tinos was a rather obscure world, which lay outside major space lanes. Whereas the empire might regard Tinos as peripheral, at best, to its interests, she was, given her location, important commercially to six essentially independent worlds, namely, worlds unaligned with the Aatii and associated only nominally, if that, with the empire. On Tinos, at Tinos Station, Yana had been sold for two darins to agents of the slaving company, Flowers of the Six Yellow Stars. The word “Flowers” often, but not always, occurs in the names of companies dealing with slaves. There are hundreds of such companies in the empire. Two of the largest are Bondage Flowers and The House of Worlds. There was surely something unusual in the case of Yana. Her origins and background were obscure and her asking price, for some reason, was far beneath her obvious market value. She was clearly priced for a quick sale. It is little wonder then that the agents of the company in question purchased her promptly and asked few, if any, questions. Beyond that, Yana seems to have been involved in group, or batch, sales, rather than individual sales. Lots, so to speak, were conveyed amongst worlds, where they, or portions of their contents, were sold or exchanged. These lots were sometimes added to, and sometimes diminished. All this was largely, if not entirely, managed on a wholesale basis. Many buyers and investors did not concern themselves with the lots themselves, not even inspecting them, but rather with numbers, seasons, trends, and potential markets. Speculation in slaves was rampant. Later, trades were also effected between various houses, large and small. Some houses would be likely to favor, and feel that they had a need for, at least at a given time, one sort of goods, or stock, over another. For example, although most slaves were female, it must be understood that not all females were human. Female slaves of many species would be marketed on one world or another. The males of most species tended to prefer, naturally, at least on the whole, female slaves of their own species. As nearly as this can be traced, Yana was, at one time or another, the property of several camps and, at least, four houses. Indeed, for a time, she may have been owned by Bondage Flowers and possibly even The House of Worlds. It was on Inez II, closer to the core of the empire, that it was decided that a lot of fifty slaves, amongst whom we find Yana, in response to a requisition, would be shipped to Inez IV, to be broken up and distributed amongst a variety of markets for individual sales. It was shortly thereafter that an untoward and unexpected event occurred. The transport en route to Inez IV, the Turona, on whose manifest appeared the lot in question, that including Yana, was overtaken by, and engaged by, a corsair. Although certain matters are not clear, it seems the Turona carried, as well as slaves, a quantity of copper and silver, and five cartridges, two for a Telnarian pistol and three for a Telnarian rifle. Given the general depletion of resources in the empire, and the desire on many worlds to disarm populations, so that they could be ruled, bled, and exploited with impunity, these cartridges were of great value, possibly bringing four or five darins of gold apiece in the black-market. That this information came into the cognizance of the corsair, this constituting an egregious breach of security, suggests the likely collusion of an informant. In any event, the corsair disabled the Turona, and, by means of magnetic, drilling lock ports, boarded her. Probably the slaves, in the hold, in slave bins, were not even aware of the pursuit, and had very little understanding, even later, of the crippling, the boarding, and such. Members of the crew of the Turona, commanded by masked corsairs, blindfolded or hooded the slaves, and tied their hands behind their backs. A string was then tied about the upper left arms of the slaves, constituting a light coffle tether, a “string coffle,” following which the slaves were taken from their bins, conducted through corridors to a freight elevator, raised to the deck where the drill locks had forced their entry, and taken from the Turona into and through the corsair to improvised pens where they were decoffled, untied, and their blindfolds or hoods removed, by masked corsairs. These precautions were presumably instituted so that the slaves might not recognize unmasked corsairs in their march to the pens, or recognize the interior, the appointments, or any identifying details of the corsair itself. The men of the Turona then sealed off the penetrated deck of their ship, and the corsair disengaged. The Turona would limp back to Inez II. Given the scarcity of ships and the preciousness of fuel the corsairs may have wished to preserve the ship and its resources, if only to have it eventually available for carrying new, vulnerable loads. Too, the informant, if there was one, might have been on the Turona. In this way his cover would be preserved, and he might be once more of value to them. Some days later the corsair made landfall on some world, presumably at a prearranged point, and the slaves, once more bound, their hands again fastened behind their backs, once more string-coffled, the string again about the upper left arms, and either blindfolded or hooded, were led down a metal ramp to what they could tell, being barefoot, was a grassy field. There they were knelt. Shortly thereafter there was a great roar, and a blast of heat which made some
of the slaves cry out with fear, and the ship departed. The slaves were then put in new collars, and the old collars, their shipping collars, were removed. In this way there was no moment in which they were not in at least one collar. The new collars were plain. They marked the girls well as slaves, but, unlike most collars, gave no indication of their masters. There was a smell of expended fuel in the air. They were then, as they knelt, fastened together by neck rings and chain. The coffle string was removed. Then the blindfolds and hoods were removed. “On your feet,” they were told. They rose to their feet. It seemed to be early afternoon. There was a slight breeze. To one side they could see a circle of smoking, scorched grass. There were some tunicked men about, two of whom carried whips. Two slave girls then approached. Both were tunicked. How the stripped slaves envied them, for clothing, however demeaning, brief, shaming, and revealing, as is suitable for slaves, is desperately desired by slaves, save when they are alone with their masters, who commonly enjoy seeing them “slave naked” in their collars. One of the slaves, a sturdy slave, carried water, in a bucket, which she served to each slave with a dipper. The other slave, also sturdy, for large, strong, female slaves are often put in charge of smaller, lovelier, more feminine slaves, carried a basket of rolls. She thrust a roll into the mouth of each slave in the coffle. A bit later one of the men cracked his whip. The leather struck no one, but the coffle recoiled. Yana, bound and coffled, was dismayed. She had the sense that she once, somewhere, somehow, had been lashed with such a tool. She had no desire to feel it again. She would endeavor to obey impeccably, and be pleasing, in all ways, as a slave is to be pleasing. “Ho,” called the man with the whip, “you curvaceous stock, you pretty, two-legged, meaningless cattle, you are on the way to market!” He then cracked the whip again. “Move,” he said, “move!” He then cracked the whip once more, and the coffle stepped out, through the grass, the first step being taken, as is prescribed, with the left foot.