The Peasant

by Scott Michael Decker

“Please excuse me, Lord Emperor. I see little difference between being a prisoner in the Tiger Fortress and being a prisoner in the Imperial Jaguar Menagerie. No, Lord, I … I think I'll fall on my knife.”

  “Eh, Lady—in the menagerie? I wouldn't imprison a human being who hasn't committed a crime. No, Lady Snow, I mean that if you wish to live somewhere in the Southern Empire, I welcome you to do so.”

  Fleeting Snow looked at him with her disconcerting red eyes. “Thank you, Lord Emperor Jaguar, you're very kind to offer.”

  He smiled, guessing she hadn't yet decided. “Have you seen the Lord General Bear?” He watched her carefully, wondering if he were right about them. Knowing all bandits would feel the repercussions, he hoped he were wrong. Snarling Jaguar wanted to ask her: Is Purring Tiger really Scowling Tiger's daughter?

  “Only twice,” Fleeting Snow said, her manner as light and indifferent as a butterfly. “The Lord Bear looks old under sedation.”

  “We all look old when we're helpless. I'm having him awakened soon. Would you like to watch?”

  She grinned at him. “You'll have the Infinite to pay when you do, Lord Emperor.”

  “I know it, and I'd like you to help, Lady Snow. Perhaps your presence will calm him a little, eh?”

  “As on the last occasion, Lord?”

  Snarling Jaguar laughed, liking her. “Here they come now, Lady Snow. Please have a seat over there.”

  “Yes, Lord Emperor,” she said, bowing.

  A swarm of servants prepared the hill as the Emperor instructed. Gratefully, he eased himself to a cushion, his back to the tree.

  A palanquin approached the base of the hill, the curtains closed, the shields on. Beside it walked Calming Touch, looking haggard, and Sparkling Stream, looking more beautiful than her aunt Bubbling Water. The bearers trudged up the hill and eased the palanquin to the grass, then prostrated themselves. The two women bowed.

  “Lady Touch, Lady Stream,” Snarling Jaguar said, nodding.

  “Infinite be with you, Lord Emperor Jaguar,” said Calming Touch, the senior of the pair. “You look well, Lord, in the best of health.” She tucked a brown lock of hair behind her ear.

  “Thank you, Lady Medacor. Thank you also for keeping the Lord General Bear sedated all this way. Infinite be with you, Lady Stream. I see you find my son to your liking.”

  Sparkling Stream blushed. “Yes, Lord Emperor, thank you.” The young woman half bowed to acknowledge his attention.

  Pleased she was his son's consort, and not his own, Snarling Jaguar smiled at her. He preferred the simple peasant woman, early autumn of years, plain of feature, low of station, without influence. A woman like Sparkling Stream would distract me, Snarling Jaguar thought, reluctantly pulling his eyes off the consort. “Lady Touch, you've done well. How should I reward you?”

  “Forgive me, Lord Emperor, I deserve no reward,” Calming Touch replied. “I only did my duty, and…”

  Looking at her directly, Snarling Jaguar gestured her to continue.

  “I disobeyed my orders, Lord Emperor Jaguar.”

  “Oh? The Lord General Bear isn't under sedation?”

  “No, Lord Emperor, he isn't. Repeated sedation would've endangered his life, so I used a synaptic block. All autonomic systems function normally, but he has no control over his voluntary muscles. I also disabled the sensory receptors that go through the brain stem, every sense except olfaction, whose nerves go directly into the cortex. Of course, Lord Emperor, I also kept him shielded the whole time.”

  “I don't understand how you disobeyed orders, Lady Medacor.”

  “The Lady Matriarch Water ordered me to sedate him, Lord Emperor.”

  “How is this 'synaptic block' any different from sedation?”

  “In its effect on his actions, Lord Emperor, it isn't any different. It's not sedation. Hence, I disobeyed orders.”

  Snarling Jaguar shrugged. “I don't agree, Lady Touch. I'll tell the Lady Matriarch you've performed admirably. How did you get around his talent?”

  “I didn't, Lord Emperor—it helped me. I've never seen the Lord General's talent do that. I don't understand why it didn't stop me.”

  “You've been in his service how long, Lady Medacor?”

  “Over fifteen years, Lord Emperor.”

  Snarling Jaguar nodded. “He does have an odd talent—rare, nearly unique. Infinite knows. Again, Lady Medacor, how should I reward you?”

  She smiled briefly. “I deserve no reward, Lord Emperor Jaguar. The Lord General Bear's safety is reward enough for me.”

  Snarling Jaguar regarded her for a moment, then smiled. “As you wish, Lady Touch. I require one more service of you, then you may return north. Can you enable the Lord General Bear to hear, speak and see without giving him control of his sword arm?”

  “Yes, Lord, but he wouldn't attack you, would …? My mistake, Lord Emperor—Infinite knows what he'll do.”

  Snarling Jaguar chuckled. “Indeed, Lady Touch.” He saw his son walking up the hill. “Please open the palanquin curtains and enable the Lord General Bear to hear. Lady Stream, would you like to greet your uncle?”

  “Happily, Lord Emperor.” Sparkling Stream stepped to the General's side.

  The medacor reached into the palanquin, placing her hands on either side of Guarding Bear's head.

  “Infinite be with you, my most precious and affectionate Lord Uncle,” Sparkling Stream said to the recumbent figure.

  “Now his speech, Lady Medacor,” Snarling Jaguar said.

  Calming Touch motioned.

  “You can't bribe me with my niece's sweet words, you barbarian hyena!” Guarding Bear roared.

  Snarling Jaguar guffawed, pounding the ground with a fist.

  “Laugh, you blood drinking weasel! Laugh like the Infinite! The first chance I get I'll shove your face into a cesspool!”

  Snarling Jaguar laughed harder.

  “Why are you keeping me paralyzed, you scum faced, diseased penis of a wart hog? Afraid of what I'll do when you set me loose?”

  His face to the sky, Snarling Jaguar's laughter rolled over the hills. “You're hilarious, Lord General. Insult me more!”

  Guarding Bear glared at him, then abruptly laughed also. “That's all the obligatory flattery you'll get from me.”

  “Do you know why you're here, Lord General?”

  “Obviously, Lord Emperor, you've taken me, my medacor, my niece and the Lady Snow hostage. Has Flying Arrow declared war on your stinking Empire yet?”

  Snarling Jaguar smiled. “No, Lord General, and I haven't on yours, despite your violating the Inviolate Insignia.”

  Sighing, Guarding Bear frowned. “Oh, that—forgive me, Lord Emperor, I acted rashly. Infinite be with you, Lady Snow. This testicle sucker's warrior didn't hurt you, did he?”

  “The Lord Blow did no irreparable damage, Lord Bear,” Fleeting Snow said, smiling.

  “Your language, Lord General!” Snarling Jaguar said in mock shock. “Shall I have your speech disabled again?”

  Guarding Bear sighed. “Not necessary, Lord Emperor. How went the negotiations?”

  “Other than your indecorous behavior, very well. I filched Swan Valley from the Lord Emperor Arrow, got a consort for my son, made an alliance with the Lady Matriarch Water, bargained for the Lady Snow's knowledge about the Tiger Fortress, and got possession of you, Lord General.”

  * * *

  “Eh, Lord Emperor? Of me?” Guarding Bear hoped he feigned enough surprise, silently blessing Healing Hand for his friendship.

  “To give the Lord Emperor Arrow time to forgive your unpardonable transgression, the Lady Matriarch and I decided you'll hibernate in the Southern Empire for awhile.”

  “Nothing more fun than pissing on the feet of Emperors, eh Lord Emperor?” the General said.

  Snarling Jaguar laughed. “If I have the Lady Medacor release you, Lord General, will you come with me peacefully?”

  “I agree to restrain my urge to strangle you, Lord Emperor.”

 
“Your restraint is admirable.” The Emperor signaled to the medacor.

  Calming Touch passed her hands across the General's head. “You'll find your muscles responding slowly for a few days, Lord Bear. I suggest you wait before doing anything strenuous, such as provoking a fight with the Lord Emperor Jaguar.”

  “My very thought. Thank you, Lady Touch. Would you like to test my arousal responses tonight?”

  “We'll see, Lord Bear,” she said, smiling briefly.

  “So, my niece, you've become the Lord Heir's consort, eh? My mate's been hawking her wares.” Guarding Bear stretched his muscles, stiff from disuse.

  “Yes, Lord Bear,” Sparkling Stream replied. “The Lady Water's arrangement pleases me immensely.”

  “Glad to hear it, Lady Stream. May your fertile womb always stiffen the stalk of the jaguar.”

  “You're so kind, Lord Bear, thank you,” Sparkling Stream said, kissing him. “Your puns are the worst, however.”

  Smiling, Guarding Bear struggled from the palanquin, swaying unsteadily. “Help me stand, eh?” With her aid, he stepped forward tentatively. “I do feel sluggish, Lady Medacor. I'm getting old; Infinite forbid I slow down, eh?” He glanced at Snarling Jaguar. “Allow me to bow properly, Lord Emperor.” He knelt to put his head in the grass.

  Smiling, Snarling Jaguar nodded to acknowledge.

  Guarding Bear settled himself on his haunches. “Lady Snow.” He bent his index finger to beckon.

  Fleeting Snow knelt before him. “Yes, Lord Bear?”

  “That's not necessary between us, my friend,” he murmured, gesturing her to sit beside him. “Why didn't you tell us about the trade?”

  “I didn't have the chance, my friend. I didn't know Scowling Tiger planned to trade me away until that day.”

  “Not to worry, eh?” Guarding Bear said, shrugging. “Have you spoken with the Lady?”

  Smiling, Fleeting Snow nodded.

  “Has she already told you that you may ask anything of us? As I thought. If we can grant it, we will.”

  Nodding, Fleeting Snow laughed gaily. “I need to think about it, my friend. Before you make any promises, you'd better hear what the Lord Emperor wants to tell you.”

  “Eh? What could he tell me?” Then Guarding Bear smiled. “He could tell me how to stop being the Peasant Upstart Usurper. Lord Emperor, I'm very grateful you insisted Flying Arrow spare me for my unforgivable insult. I admire your strength and wisdom. Few would've restrained themselves as you did. Again, thank you, Lord Emperor.” Grinning, Guarding Bear bowed.

  “We both succumbed to pride, Lord General. I happened to recover first.” Snarling Jaguar shrugged. “You'd have done the same in my moccasins, eh?”

  Looking inside himself, Guarding Bear nodded. “Yes, I'd have done the same. What did you want to tell me, Lord Emperor?”

  Snarling Jaguar looked around at the assembled people. Most of them smiled. Fleeting Snow turned to watch Guarding Bear's face. Grinning at the General, Snarling Jaguar said, “The Lady Consort Flowering Pine is pregnant.”

  Guarding Bear looked off into the distance, his face blank, his shoulders easing back, his spine straightening. “Infinite bless her,” he said absently.

  Stalking Jaguar leaned forward, looking baffled. “You're not angry, Lord General?”

  “Eh?” Guarding Bear returned from his absence. “Angry, Lord Heir? No, not at all. That's wonderful news!” He returned his attention to the distance. “I wonder which castle lackey she straddled. Do you think she gutted him?” he asked the Emperor.

  Snarling Jaguar laughed and shook his head. “You have such a talent, Lord General, for finding the darkness amidst the light.”

  “I work very hard at it, Lord Emperor.” Perhaps too hard, Guarding Bear thought. “No, Lord Heir, I'd be foolish to want anything else. A Succession Assured brings peace, eh? Now, we won't have a struggle for the throne in the interregnum.”

  “I don't understand, Lord General,” the young man said. “You'd win that struggle. You or your progeny would rule the Eastern Empire!”

  “Perhaps, Lord Heir, perhaps not. I want what's better for the Empire more than I want to be Emperor.”

  Stalking Jaguar's disbelief was plain. “Forgive me, Lord General, but isn't your usurping the throne better for the Empire?”

  They want me to stay the same, Guarding Bear thought, frowning. To them, I'll always be the Peasant Upstart Usurper. I'm not and never have been. I won't let them dictate my role. The General looked into his soul and found the quiet strength of the Infinite. “Not if it costs fifty thousand Eastern lives, Lord Heir, not if it costs a single Eastern life. What good is dominion if I have to decimate the people over whom I exert that dominion?” Guarding Bear looked around, content with the Succession Assured. “Infinite bless her.”

  “Lord General,” Snarling Jaguar said, “she's pregnant with twins.”

  “Eh?” Guarding Bear looked around, distaste on his face. “Infinite blast her, they'll fight between themselves for the throne!”

  Snarling Jaguar laughed. “Perhaps, Lord General, perhaps not. The Lady Matriarch Water divined the pregnancy as the negotiations concluded and said, 'One would be too few.' ”

  Guarding Bear looked at him, expecting him to continue. “That's all she said?”

  Snarling Jaguar repeated Bubbling Water's whole prophecy.

  Guarding Bear shook his head. “Nothing more than that, Lord Emperor? Blast! You know the vagaries of prophecy; that could have a thousand meanings. True, perhaps one son will die. Infinite knows, eh? Still, the Lady Consort's pregnancy brings us all hope. The Empire prays the sons won't repeat the father's mistakes.”

  “Depends on their teachers, eh Lord General?”

  “So it does, Lord Emperor Jaguar,” Guarding Bear replied, a half smile on his face, his gaze on the distance again. That's the secret, he thought. If I won't usurp the throne from the tyrant because the price is too high, I'll teach the sons how to govern. Guarding Bear silently thanked Snarling Jaguar for pointing the way.

  “Well, bless the Lady Consort anyway.” Thank you, dear Lord Infinite, for answering my prayers, the retired General thought. “Listen, all of you,” Guarding Bear said in his resonant voice of command, “I don't want the throne for myself or my children. No matter what you believe, I'm not the Peasant Upstart Usurper.

  “I'm Guarding Bear,” he said, knowing exactly what that meant.

  * * *

  About the Author

  Scott Michael Decker, MSW, is an author by avocation and a social worker by trade. He is the author of twenty-plus novels, mostly in the Science Fiction genre and some in the Fantasy genre. His biggest fantasy is wishing he were published. His fifteen years of experience working with high-risk populations is relieved only by his incisive humor. Formerly interested in engineering, he's now tilting at the windmills he once aspired to build. Asked about the MSW after his name, the author is adamant it stands for Masters in Social Work, and not “Municipal Solid Waste,” which he spreads pretty thick as well. His favorite quote goes, “Scott is a social work novelist, who never had time for a life” (apologies to Billy Joel). He lives and dreams happily with his wife near Sacramento, California.

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  Scott Michael Decker, The Peasant