The Usurper (44 page)

Too, she was alive!

She knew that the blockade of Abrogastes could not have been emplaced and managed without a great many ships.

Here were only six ships.

This must be a small part of what must be a large, impressive force.

Clearly then this was not an invasion, but something very different, a raid, of sorts.

How was it that the batteries had been silent?

The swarm of land vehicles and hoverers which had issued from the hulls of the six great ships had now muchly abated, having apparently reached and entered the city.

Indeed, no hoverers were now in sight. On the other hand, at intervals, one or more of the smaller vehicles, treaded or wheeled, rolled down the corrugated steel ramps, and moved, though in a leisurely way, toward Telnar. Their purposes, we may suppose, were various, but, at a minimum, it seems likely that some were intended to establish and maintain a defensive perimeter within which the six ships might be relatively secure, should a sortie emerge from Telnar; others to maintain some physical communications between the preceding wave of attackers and the ships, for example, carrying personnel back and forth; others to safeguard exit routes and prevent attackers from being cut off from the ships, and so on.

Suddenly one of these small vehicles swerved toward Cornhair.

“Take her!” she heard.

The small vehicle, tearing up turf, ground to a stop beside her.

“Masters!” cried Cornhair.

She had no time to kneel, for a hand reached out, seized her by the bound arm, and drew her into the vehicle.

“I have her,” said the fellow in whose grasp, tied as she was, Cornhair was helpless.

The vehicle then continued on its way.

Cornhair was thrust to her knees on the steel flooring, at the feet of two or three men, who stood behind a raised, slitted, shieldlike projection, through which they could peer.

A hand thrust her head down, almost to the floor.

“What are you doing out here, tied like a pig?” asked a man.

“I am as a pig, Master,” she said. “I am a slave!” Cornhair wished it to be immediately clear, if it were not already clear enough, that she was not a free woman, and was thus, hopefully, immune from the hazards which might accompany that state.

“These are unlikely lakes in which to go swimming,” said a man.

“Yes, Master,” said Cornhair.

“What were you doing here?” asked the first man.

“I do not know,” said Cornhair.

“She was brought here to be disposed of,” said one of the men.

“I fear so,” said Cornhair.

“Doubtless deservedly,” said another.

“No, Master!” said Cornhair, her head down, her eyes on the steel flooring.

“She's a pretty one,” said one of the men.

“You are not wearing much,” said a man.

“I am a slave,” she said.

“At least we need not rip silks from her body,” said a man.

“Still, it is pleasant to do that,” said another.

“Are there more like you, in Telnar?” asked a man.

“Yes, Master,” said Cornhair. “Thousands, and free women, too!”

“Are the free women good looking?” asked a man.

“I do not know,” said Cornhair.

“It is easy enough to find out,” said a man.

There was laughter.

“Spoils,” said a man.

“Booty,” said another.

“Loot!” said another.

“What do you think, little slave?” asked one of the men.

“We are women,” said Cornhair. “We belong to those strong enough to take us and make us slaves.”

“That is a slave's answer,” said a man.

“I am a slave,” said Cornhair.

“You have no collar,” said a man.

“It was taken away,” said Cornhair. “I assure you I am a slave. Examine my thigh! You will discover that I am well and clearly marked, nicely marked.”

“Every slave should be in a collar,” said a man.

“Yes, Master,” said Cornhair.

“Collars are lovely on a woman,” said a man.

“Yes, Master,” said Cornhair. There was little doubt in her mind but what a collar muchly enhanced a woman's attractiveness, and not merely aesthetically. Much had to do with its meaning. It said much about the woman who wore it.

Cornhair, looking up, as the vehicle rumbled on, saw above her the arch of a gate. They were now in the city.

“May I speak, Masters?” asked Cornhair.

“Yes,” said a fellow, considering windows and rooftops. The street seemed deserted. Doubtless the main attacking force had plied this street, and perhaps others, like it.

“Telnar is large,” said Cornhair. “It is the capital. Millions reside here. Surely you cannot reduce Telnar with the forces at your disposal.”

“We have briefer business here,” said a man.

“We shall not be long,” said another.

“The assault will have gathered by now,” said a man. “The strike is imminent.”

“Within the hour,” said another of the men.

“What is our destination, Masters?” asked Cornhair.

“The palace, the imperial palace,” said a man.

“No!” cried Cornhair, and sprang to her feet, only to have her hair seized and held, and she was then cuffed, back and forth, four blows, left cheek, right cheek, left cheek, right cheek, and then, subdued, miserable, lips bleeding, she sank again to her knees.

“What is wrong, little slave?” asked a man.

“Let me go!” she begged. “You need not untie me. Just let me go! Put me from the vehicle! Cast me to the pavement, but do not take me to the palace!”

“You fear the palace?” said a man.

“Yes, yes,” she said. “Please do not take me there! Please, Masters!”

“It is our destination,” said the fellow at the controls of the vehicle.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

“Ah,” said Iaachus, “my noble friend, Julian! How wonderful to see you again, dear fellow, and, too, cousin to our beloved emperor! How often I have thought of you!”

“My dear friend, sweet Arbiter, prop of the empire, defender of the throne,” said Julian, “I, too, have often thought of you.”

“You will forgive me, I trust,” said Iaachus, “if I do not rise to greet you. There is a certain tightness in my knee, a fall.”

“Certainly,” said Julian.

“And, if I am not mistaken,” said Iaachus, “you are accompanied by the noble Ottonius, captain in our esteemed Auxiliaries.”

Otto did not speak, but looked about the room.

“And king of Otungs,” said Julian.

“I trust not a tribe of the Aatii,” said Iaachus.

“No, of the Vandal peoples,” said Julian, “a confederation commonly hostile to the Aatii.”

“There are so many of these barbarian nations,” said Iaachus. “It is very confusing.”

“The chamber, outside, is heavily guarded,” said Julian.

“Yes,” said Iaachus. “Times are trying.”

“Doubtless,” said Julian.

“It is my understanding,” said Iaachus, “that you wished to see me, privately.”

“Yes, dear friend,” said Julian, “privately.”

“I see,” said the Arbiter.

“We are not alone,” said Otto.

“I left my pistol outside,” said Julian. “You may close your center desk drawer.”

“Tyrus, Arsus,” said the Arbiter, “you might go and see if our friend's pistol is safe.”

Two men stepped from behind drapes and went, briefly, to the chamber portal. “It is secure, Lord,” said one of the men.

“Excellent,” said Iaachus. “You may now leave, both of you.”

“Yes, Lord,” said one of the men, and they both exited.

“The drawer,” suggested Julian.

“Of course,” said Iaachus. He then slid shut the drawer.

“Perhaps you are surprised to see my friend, Captain Ottonius,” said Julian.

“Pleasantly, of course,” said Iaachus. “I had thought him engaged on Tangara, recruiting allies.”

“And I?” asked Julian.

“At your villa, I supposed, on Vellmer.”

“I, too, was on Tangara,” said Julian.

“Interesting,” said Iaachus.

“Abrogastes, king of the Drisriaks, of the Alemanni, the Aatii, blockades Telnaria,” said Julian.

“Briefly,” said Iaachus. “Even now imperial cruisers rush nigh, from a hundred worlds.”

“And leave a hundred borders undefended,” said Julian. “Through abandoned gates stream unwelcome guests.”

“Telnaria comes first,” said Iaachus. “It is the seat of the senate and empire.”

“Surely,” said Julian, “you do not think these developments unrelated.”

“How do barbarians think?” asked Iaachus. “Perhaps we should ask one, our friend, noble Ottonius.”

“Noble Lord,” said Otto, “let us conjecture that Abrogastes, called the Far-Grasper, though a barbarian, is not a fool. Clearly his blockade cannot win him an empire, even bring a world to its knees. Therefore, it has another purpose, or other purposes. It is not a blockade, truly, or at least not a blockade for its own sake, even something as negligible as demonstrating the possibility of intrusion or the performing of a trivial, superficial act of annoyance, but rather a tactic, one already successfully executed. The empire is like the egg of a
varda
, a hard shell, and, within, a soft center. Now the shell is shattered and the center at risk.”

“At less risk, noble Ottonius, than you imagine,” said Iaachus. “Telnaria has conserved mighty weaponry, which may be employed in its defense.”

“The batteries,” said Julian.

“Of course,” said Iaachus.

“Which may not fire,” said Otto.

“I do not understand,” said Iaachus.

“In many districts of the city,” said Julian, “there is unrest, civil disorder, rioting, looting and burning.”

“Unfortunately,” said Iaachus.

“The blockade?” said Julian.

“That is the pretext,” said Iaachus. “More is concealed.”

“Guardsmen are few,” said Julian. “They do not interfere.”

“They have been forbidden to interfere, save to defend their own safety,” said Iaachus.

“What madness is this?” said Julian.

“Much has transpired since Tangara,” said Iaachus. “New games are afoot, and new players move unfamiliar pieces.”

“I shall tell you what I have learned,” said Julian, “and you may tell me what you know.”

“Proceed, dear friend,” said Iaachus.

“Recruitment amongst Vandals, once promising, is imperiled,” said Julian. “Loyalties are uncertain and confusion reigns. By tradition, Vandals, in all their tribes, will follow the wearer of a given medallion and chain, a war lord's emblem of office. Drisriaks, a tribe of the Aatii, or Alemanni, by custom hereditary enemies of Vandals, obtained that token, and threatened plausibly to use it to unite the Alemanni and Vandal nations in an alliance which would portend doom to the empire. But many such medallions and chains were smithed and distributed, this casting doubt on the authenticity of any such device.”

“Excellent!” said Iaachus.

“Now,” said Julian, “that alliance is forestalled, but Vandals, even Otungs, hesitate to declare for the silver standards.”

“There is much here,” said Otto, “which I do not understand. I do not see in this matter the thinking of Drisriaks. There is a subtlety and an astuteness here, a narrow slyness and cunning, which seems unlikely to have sprung from camps and halls. What is here speaks rather to me of cities, of sheltered colonnades and sealed chambers.”

“Let us suppose,” said Julian, “as my colleague suspects, that machinations are herein involved, and machinations originating in, or supported by, forces within Telnaria itself.”

“Yes,” said Iaachus, “let us suppose that.”

“Then what I cannot understand is the possible motivation for such an act. What could be gained? Why would one tear down walls? Why would one open gates in the presence of an enemy?”

“Clearly there would be something to be gained,” said Iaachus.

“Surely nothing in the interest of the throne,” said Julian.

“No,” said Iaachus.

“Then, what?” demanded Julian.

“I fear I know,” said Iaachus.

“What?” said Julian.

“You have noted the unrest in the city, the rioting, the looting,” said Iaachus.

“Yes,” said Julian.

“What you are unlikely to have noted, or understood,” said Iaachus, “is that the temples of the gods, and the temples of Floonians, save for one such cult, have been attacked, despoiled, and burned, by zealots, supposedly in the holy cause of propagating a particular faith, one of the several supposedly one true faiths, only the other one true faiths, at least to date, have refrained from promoting their views by destruction, arson, murder, robbery, and such.”

“Surely the city is in turmoil,” said Julian. “There is general looting and burning. Many districts are unsafe, some devastated.”

“Some of this is spillage,” said Iaachus. “Fire spreads. One object of value appropriated leads to another. Who can resist the temptation to seize unprotected treasure? Is there no elation in stealing, burning, and killing? In a crowd small men are large, weak men are strong. The unhappy, envious, and resentful are liberated within the concealment of anonymity. Once the beast with many heads has tasted blood it longs for more. In what other country than the mob can hatred and violence, theft and greed, be unleashed with impunity? But there is more, as well, and intention, and calculation.”

“I do not understand,” said Julian.

“These riots are fomented with a purpose,” said Iaachus, “and the purpose is the acquisition of power.”

“I have been long from Telnaria,” said Julian.

“Do you know of Floonianism?” asked Iaachus.

“Very little,” said Julian.

“It is a demand of a particular Floonian leader, the leader of one of the several Floonian faiths, a man named Sidonicus, entitled ‘Exarch of Telnar',” said Iaachus, “that the empire adopt his version of Floonianism as the official faith of the Telnarian empire, and that the empire should then use its power to supplant and exterminate all other faiths, of whatever sort.”

“Tolerance is the way of Telnaria,” said Julian, “even from the time of the village kings, even before the institution of the senate, even before the empire.”

“Sidonicus demands intolerance,” said Iaachus, “on behalf of his own views, of course.”

“He is insane,” said Julian.

“Perhaps, rather,” said Iaachus, “brilliant and unscrupulous.”

“Surely the empire will do nothing so cruel, heinous, and divisive,” said Julian.

“Rewards would attend this concession,” said Iaachus. “Floonians, in their millions, on many worlds, as you probably know, have largely existed as inactive, benign parasites, living within the shelter of the empire they refuse to support and defend. They ignore state authority, flout law, eschew taxes, decline
munera
, refuse to bear arms, and so on. They are, I gather, primarily concerned with the welfare of their own
koos
, whatever that is.”

“Interesting,” said Julian.

“But,” said Iaachus, “in exchange for declaring Floonianism the official faith of the empire, and extirpating all other faiths, Sidonicus will bring his flocks into the fold of the empire, supposedly then a reformed, redeemed empire.”

“As committed, participating citizens, to support, defend it, and so on,” said Julian.

“Precisely,” said Iaachus. “You can see the potential value to the empire of additional millions of zealous patriots now defending an empire they regard as their own.”

“And what of our other citizens?” asked Julian.

“Over one or two centuries,” said Iaachus, “there may be no other citizens. The confused and hesitant, the opportunistic, can be converted, the recalcitrant killed, or, if any should survive, exiled, deported, forced into wastelands, driven into wilderness worlds, to eke out what livelihood they can in scattered, despised enclaves.”

“And if the empire does not so declare, as the exarch wishes?”

“Opposition, disruption,” said Iaachus. “Treason, inertness, treachery, betrayal of the empire. You have seen the streets.”

“Clear them,” said Julian.

“We dare not,” said Iaachus. “One would do no more than produce martyrs.”

“And thus the quiescence of guardsmen?” said Julian.

“What, in any event, would be a hundred guardsmen, or two hundred, against an avalanche of ten thousand?”

“What will the empire do?” asked Julian.

“I urge resistance,” said Iaachus.

“Because of the threat to your own power?” asked Julian.

“If you wish,” said Iaachus.

“What of the emperor?”

“He plays with his toys.”

“The empress mother?”

“She is receiving instruction in Floonianism,” said Iaachus.

“Your power in the palace wanes,” said Julian.

“Another has her ear,” said Iaachus, “Sidonicus, Exarch of Telnar.”

“The princesses, Viviana and Alacida?”

“They care for little but their jewels and gowns, and the flattery of spineless courtiers.”

“Surrender to Sidonicus,” said Julian, “and the empire survives?”

“In an unconscionable, unrecognizable form,” said Iaachus, “as an outrage to its former self, as a tyranny which far exceeds that of the sword, a prison of the mind, a citadel of oppression.”

“I would miss the openness and glory of the empire, its vastness and complexity, even with its faults,” said Julian.

“The empire has been shrewd,” said Iaachus, “it has calculated, plotted, and done war, but it has never flown the flag of fanaticism.”

“We spoke earlier,” said Julian, “of the matter of the medallion and chain, and the threat of uniting barbarian peoples under the aegis of that artifact, a threat, we trust, now muchly reduced in portent by a plentitude of competitive devices.”

“Nothing of this had reached the palace,” said Iaachus.

“I am not surprised,” said Julian. “But a puzzle lingers. If the scheme of the artifact originated in, or was supported by, forces in Telnar, what could be the motivation for such an anomaly? Who would multiply enemies? Would it not be a matter of throwing oneself on one's own sword, before the battle had even begun? I am without an explanation. You said, as I recall, you feared you knew.”

“In this,” said Iaachus, “I see the hand of Sidonicus, Exarch of Telnar.”

“How so?” said Julian.

“Think, dear friend,” said Iaachus. “Barbarians desire the defeat of, or the possession of, the empire. Now they are approached by someone who will place in their hands the means for realizing that ambition. To be sure, such a gift is not bestowed without the expectation of receiving something of comparable value in return.”

“Surely not,” said Julian. “But, what?”

“I suspect,” said Iaachus, “the conversion of the victorious barbarian peoples, this another road to a familiar end, the imposition of a particular faith on countless worlds.”

“If the empire were seized?”

“Yes,” said Iaachus.

“But what,” said Julian, “if the empire was collapsed, broken in battle, communication lost, cities emptied, men divided, the state vanished, save for local law enforced by bandits?”

“Still,” said Iaachus, “the faith would be everywhere, and perhaps the more precious and stronger for the uncertainty and precariousness of life.”

“Woe,” said Julian.

“Perhaps the future belongs to those such as your friend,” said Iaachus. He slid the center drawer of his desk partly open. “And perhaps to those who are their friends,” he added.