The Emperor

by Norman, John;

  “That seems unclear,” said Iaachus.

  “And how does one get to this other world?” asked Otto.

  “Most often, as I understand it,” said Iaachus, “by being dead.”

  “Remarkable,” said Otto.

  “To be sure,” said Iaachus, “the temples of Floon abound in wealth, and the renunciation of the goods of this world does not seem inimical to acquiring them. Indeed, it seems a promising way to do just that.”

  “Fascinating,” said Otto.

  “Floonian ministrants abhor the body, spend a good deal of time attempting to subdue it, eschew sex, applaud poverty, and eat and imbibe sparsely,” said Iaachus.

  “The exarch does not appear to be in need of nourishment,” said Otto.

  “In their most common ceremony,” said Iaachus, “they nibble on a crust of bread and take a sip of water.”

  “May I ask,” said Sidonicus, “of what the noble Arbiter and the emperor speak?”

  “The emperor, a scion of Tangara, a far world, knows little of the holy mysteries of Floonianism,” said Iaachus. “I was trying to explain to him, insofar as I might do so, what might seem to be the motivation of your apparent distress.”

  “You are gracious, as well as astute,” said Sidonicus, not raising his head from the shelter of his cloaked arm.

  “I fear we have been insensitive,” said Otto. “Please forgive us. We thought that a lavish display of imperial wealth would delight you, as you are a citizen of the empire. Might it not hearten you and reassure you of the solvency of the state? Would you, as a citizen of the empire, not rejoice in such things? But it seems not. Shall I have the gold and silver, the pearls and rugs, the wine and flower seeds removed from the dais?”

  “I assure you,” said Sidonicus, “I can endure, however unwillingly, to look upon gold and flower seeds.”

  “It must be something else then,” said Iaachus.

  “Yes,” said Sidonicus, bravely, his arm now lowered, but his body turned away, facing to his left.

  “The women, the slaves?” asked Iaachus.

  “Yes,” said Sidonicus.

  “Why?” asked Otto, of Iaachus.

  “I think it is a Floonian thing,” said Iaachus.

  “Strange,” said Otto. “What if they were dogs?”

  “Dogs, as I understand it, would be all right,” said Iaachus.

  “But the slaves, too, are beasts,” said Otto, “lovely, exciting beasts.”

  “Perhaps that is the problem,” said Iaachus.

  “I see no problem in that,” said Otto. “If there is no difficulty in the bared beauty of a horse or dog, why should there be a problem with that of a slave? The difference is merely that that of a slave is far more stimulating. She is, in the eyes of many, a far more desirable property.”

  “Please,” begged Sidonicus, looking away, “cover the slaves.”

  “It is true,” said Iaachus to Otto, “it is difficult to resist and subdue the body in the presence of a collared, stripped, chained slave. Biology intervenes.”

  “Why would one wish to resist and subdue the body?” asked Otto. “That sounds stupid, if not unhealthy.”

  “It is a Floonian thing,” said Iaachus.

  “Is it in the teachings of Floon?” asked Otto.

  “Not really,” said Iaachus.

  “How, then, can it be a Floonian thing?” asked Otto.

  “I am not an authority on such matters,” said Iaachus.

  “Do you fear women, your gloriousness?” asked Otto.

  “Intensely,” said Sidonicus. “They are dangerous, beguiling creatures, provocative and enticing. They are temptresses. They lead one astray. They lure one from the paths of righteousness. They are seductive. They are treacherous, vain, selfish, and cruel. They are more dangerous than the soft-furred vi-cat.”

  “That is why they are well put in collars,” said Otto. “They are very nice, once that is done.”

  “Please,” begged Sidonicus. “I crave your indulgence. I am a guest in the palace.”

  “Very well,” said Otto. “We anticipated that you might have reservations, given your renunciation of wealth and your esteeming of the joys of poverty, at the display of treasure, and so we were prepared to conceal the envelopes of flower seeds, and such.”

  “The slaves will do,” said Sidonicus.

  “Very well,” said Otto. “Let the slaves be covered, in the manner previously arranged.”

  Two servitors then approached. One carried a large, soft, golden cloth, which he draped carefully, attractively about the shoulders of Renata. The other brought forth a small swatch of coarse, rudely woven cloth, of the sort peasants use to sack vegetables. This he flung against the body of Flora, and turned away. She snatched it to herself and tried to cover her body as best she could, which was very little. She clutched it to herself. Tears burned in her eyes. She looked up, from her knees, to Otto, to her right. “Master,” she whispered, in piteous, vain protest.

  “You are not now in the blue robes of the court,” said Otto, “nor in the charming, if shocking, gown of white corton. Remember Terennia, and the arena.”

  “Master!” she wept.

  “I always thought, even during the trial, that you would look well in a collar, naked, on your knees, chained,” he said. “And I was not wrong.”

  “Mercy, Master,” she wept.

  “Remember Terennia,” he said, “and the arena.”

  “I am now your slave!” she said.

  “Until I will otherwise,” he said, “until I give you away, or sell you.”

  “I will try to be a good slave,” she said. “Please keep me, Master. I beg to be kept! Please, Master!”

  “I will do as I please,” said Otto.

  “Yes, Master,” she said, her knees closely pressed together, holding the bit of cloth to her bosom.

  “You may look now,” said Otto to Sidonicus.

  Sidonicus turned about, and looked upon the slaves, with repugnance. “How disgusting they are,” he said. “It is no wonder that Karch has denied them a koos.”

  “Why,” asked Iaachus, “if women are indeed so dangerous, so desirable, tempting, exciting, alluring, seductive, and such, would a benign, well-intentioned Karch, a god recommending and approving abstinence and celibacy, invent them, produce them, bring them about, or such?”

  “Deep and mysterious are the ways of Karch,” intoned the exarch.

  “It is beyond reason?” inquired Iaachus.

  “Yes,” said Sidonicus.

  “That seems clear,” said Iaachus.

  “Your humble gloriousness,” said Otto, “I am sure you did not request this audience, which we are delighted to grant, to ponder inscrutable mysteries.”

  “Indeed not,” said Sidonicus. “As you are doubtless aware, Atalana, the empress mother, for some months now, has been receiving instruction in Floonianism.”

  “A particular version of Floonianism,” said Iaachus.

  “Fortunately, the correct version,” said Sidonicus.

  “Please, proceed,” said Otto.

  “She wishes, and I accede to her wishes,” said Sidonicus, “that she be publicly initiated into the rites of Floon, that her conversion may set an example for millions.”

  “It would not do to have this quietly done in the privacy of the palace?” asked Iaachus.

  “It makes no difference from my point of view, of course,” said the exarch.

  “Good,” said Otto. “Then it will be done quietly, privately, in the palace.”

  Sidonicus turned white. “Who, then, would know of it?” he asked.

  “An announcement could be made,” said Otto.

  “But it might not be believed,” said Sidonicus.

  “What difference would that make?” asked Otto.

  “No
ne, of course,” said Sidonicus, “but should the wishes of the empress mother not be recognized, and honored?”

  “Of course,” said Otto. “Let the smudging with the holy oil from Zirus, from some sacred pool or another, if that is what is involved, be done in any manner, at any place and time, that the empress mother wishes.”

  “The emperor is gracious,” said Sidonicus, relieved.

  “Have you heard of the mystery of the miraculous custards?” asked Iaachus.

  “I have heard something of it,” said Sidonicus, warily.

  “The empress mother sees this as testifying to, as proving, the truth of your particular version of Floonianism,” said Iaachus.

  “That is my understanding,” said Sidonicus.

  “Perhaps you care to comment?” said Iaachus.

  “Karch is at liberty, if he wishes, of course, to materialize miraculous custards in the quarters of the empress mother,” said Sidonicus. “Indeed, it would be thoughtful for him to do so. On the other hand, surprising, currently inexplicable events have no logical relation to doctrinal truth. For example, if the custards should eventually be shown to be nonmiraculous, abhor the thought, that would not affect the verities of Floonianism. Similarly, surprising, currently inexplicable events abound. Many religions, false religions, for example, are fraught with them. Thus, surprising, currently inexplicable events cannot be taken as relevant to doctrinal truth. Thousands of competitive, mutually inconsistent religions, with their surprising, currently inexplicable events, cannot all be true.”

  “You seem to regard such things with trepidation,” said Iaachus.

  “One cannot be too careful,” said Sidonicus.

  “One supposes not,” said Iaachus.

  “It will undoubtedly take some time to prepare for a public initiation of the empress mother into the rites of Floon,” said Otto. “Let us schedule it for a month following the approaching sitting of the senate. Will that be enough time?”

  “Fortunately, your majesty,” said Sidonicus, “anticipating that our petition might be favorably received, the preparations are already in place. The ceremony may take place two days from now, in the square before the golden temple, home of the exarchical throne.”

  “One day before the next meeting of the senate,” said Otto.

  “As it happens,” said Sidonicus.

  “So the city may rejoice twice, on successive days,” said Iaachus.

  “Yes,” said Sidonicus.

  “A happy time,” said Otto.

  “I trust so,” said Sidonicus.

  “I do not expect to attend the smudging ceremony,” said Otto. “Politics prescribes absence.”

  “I understand,” said Sidonicus.

  “There are many religions in the empire,” said Iaachus. “It would not do for the emperor to attend, lest the state appear to favor a particular religion.”

  “Surely it would not be inappropriate for the state to favor the one, true religion,” said Sidonicus. “Indeed, it seems it would have a moral obligation to do so, and, beyond that, to enforce it upon the reluctant or recalcitrant.”

  “Still,” said Otto, apologetically.

  “I understand,” said Sidonicus.

  “I will attend,” said Iaachus. “In that way, a representative of the palace will be present.”

  “Splendid,” said Sidonicus. “You will have a place of honor.”

  “Near the empress mother, I trust,” said Iaachus.

  “Certainly,” said Sidonicus, “and the nearer and the more prominent the better.”

  “And I,” said Otto, “may use the time to prepare for the meeting of the senate.”

  “It is my understanding,” said Sidonicus, “that you are to be honored.”

  “That, too, is my understanding,” said Otto.

  “My heart leaps in gladness,” said Sidonicus.

  “Will you not attend the meeting?” asked Otto.

  “It is not well for a ministrant of Floon to dabble in secular matters,” said the exarch.

  “Of course,” said Otto.

  “We are concerned only with matters of the koos,” said Sidonicus.

  “I understand,” said Otto.

  “I trust you will have a pleasant and rewarding time in the senate,” said Sidonicus.

  “Thank you,” said Otto.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Step carefully, great lady,” said Iaachus, gently steadying the empress mother, his hand on her elbow, as she climbed the carpeted stairs to the height of the ceremonial platform, yards above the street-level pavement of the great square before the golden temple, the seat of the high ministrant, the exarch, of Telnar. Sidonicus, in his purple vestments, was already waiting on the summit of the platform, the vial of sacred chrism, allegedly from a pool on Zirus, on a silked, white pedestal to his right. His hands were folded and his eyes were cast down, a fitting attitude, given the solemnity of the occasion. He had recently risen to his feet, with some difficulty, from the plush throne behind him on the platform.

  “This is nonsense,” snapped the empress mother, puffing a little, as she climbed. “I would have preferred to be smudged in my study, in the palace. The whole business could have been accomplished in a minute. How long does it take to push an oily thumb on someone’s forehead and mumble some unintelligible phrase in archaic Telnarian?”

  “I thought you insisted on this,” said Iaachus.

  “I hate crowds,” she said. “They oppress me. I do not care to be gaped at, particularly by idiots who post themselves in the middle of the night, to have a coign of vantage by noon the next day. Wind disarranges my gown. Dust and cinders pelt me. Bright sunlight is not good for my complexion. My beauty does not appear to my advantage in bright light. Sick people may be near, breathing out their fogs of noxious vapors. The last time I left the palace I was ill for a month. See how the fools press, crowd, and shove against one another, their simple, rapt faces craned upward. In such a crowd, assassins may lurk. How else could a mediocrity obtain fame than burn a temple or slay one greater than himself? Does the scampering filch who slays a lion think it then itself becomes a lion, or equal to a lion?”

  “You are safe, lady,” said Iaachus. “Guards are about, many in livery, and many, less conspicuously, in nondescript garb.”

  “It is easy to spot the fools,” said the empress mother. “They are looking at the crowd, instead of me.”

  At this point, the empress mother and Iaachus, having attained the height of the platform, waited in place, as prescribed, while the exarch, some yards away, across the platform, hands folded, and head down, continued his ruminations.

  “This arrangement, then,” said Iaachus, “the music, the parades, the marches, the banners, the singing, the perfume, the large, draped platform, the location, the flowers, and choirs, the thousands of garlands, and ribbons, were not your demand?”

  “No,” said Atalana, the empress mother.

  “The exarch, in imperial audience,” said Iaachus, “assured us it was your wish.”

  “The exarch is a fat liar,” said the empress mother.

  “Your public smudging,” said Iaachus, “is supposed to convince millions of others to be smudged.”

  “That is stupid,” said Atalana. “What difference would it make? Can they not make up their own minds?”

  “But you have received instruction in Floonianism, from the exarch himself,” said Iaachus.

  “One appreciates visitors,” said the empress mother. “I have had few enough since that Otung arn bear, abetted by traitors, such as you, pounced on the throne. The exarch’s unintelligible babble is amusing. One enjoys listening.”

  “But surely you are going through with this,” said Iaachus.

  “Of course,” said the empress mother. “How else can I continue to receive miraculous custards?”

 
“Are you serious?” asked Iaachus.

  “Sidonicus may be a pompous fool, with his pretentious gibberish,” said the empress mother, “but a custard is a custard.”

  “I do not think I understand,” said Iaachus.

  “There is no arguing with custards,” said the empress mother. “There must be something to the god, Karch, if he can produce miraculous custards.”

  “The kitchen could supply you with custards,” said Iaachus. “You need only ask.”

  “Of course,” said the empress mother, “but they would not be miraculous custards.”

  “I suppose not,” granted Iaachus.

  “Miraculous custards are special,” said the empress mother.

  “I suspect so,” said Iaachus.

  “I want you to know, dear Iaachus,” said the empress mother, “though you are a despicable traitor, I have always been fond of you, and remain so. I suppose that is so because we are both wicked and devious.”

  “Oh?” said Iaachus.

  “Do not pretend modesty,” said the empress mother. “Also, I am grateful to you that I am still alive. Statecraft would obviously recommend my disappearance.”

  “The Otungen, as I understand it,” said Iaachus, “do not kill women.”

  “I suppose they do something else with them,” said the empress mother.

  “Possibly,” said Iaachus.

  “And,” said the empress mother, “I gather poor Aesilesius lives, as well.”

  “He is in good health,” said Iaachus. “The emperor sees that he is provided with toys.”

  “Aesilesius is not feared,” said the empress mother.

  “Scarcely,” said Iaachus.

  “That,” said Atalana, “through years of intrigue, has always been his protection.”

  “You ruled through him,” said Iaachus.

  “With your help,” said the empress mother.

  “I am a humble servitor,” said Iaachus. “I have tried to be of assistance.”

  Then, from across the carpeted platform, flanked by ministrants, chief among them, Fulvius, whose raiment was only somewhat less purple than that of the exarch himself, Sidonicus looked up, piously, toward the sky, and spread his hands out, widely, as though considering something which might be paying attention to him, from amongst the clouds. At the same time, given the signal of a banner bearing the image of a burning rack, raised on the roof of the temple, a number of choirs of ministrants broke into song, one on the large platform itself, one, unseen, on the roof of the golden temple, and others here and there, in raised, fenced enclaves, about the vast, crowded square, and some, also in raised, fenced enclaves, even down the adjoining, crowded streets. At the same time, a number of other ministrants, near Sidonicus and Fulvius, began to swing censers about, until his portion of the platform was enveloped in a fog of incense.