by Hogan, James
hand for Glautzen to do likewise, and followed Abaquaan, Clarissa, and the
others near the doorway through into the main cabin. Glautzen and West came
next, closing the door quietly behind them to leave Zambendorf alone and
unmoving, staring out into Titan's perpetual night.
33
FRENNELECH, THE HIGH PRIEST OF KROAXIA, SAT ALONE IN HIS PRIVATE chambers in the
Palace of the High Holy One at Pergassos, brooding over the latest reports from
his spies. He smelt a conspiracy in the air, and the evidence pointed to
Eskenderom, the King, as being very much mixed up in it.
Eskenderom's ambition had long been to sweep the other nations of the Sacred
Alliance aside and establish Kroaxia at the head of a mighty empire that would
stretch to the Peripheral Barrier, with himself as its leader. His preparatory
plans had involved political intrigues and subterfuges aimed at undermining the
kings and rulers of neighboring states and weakening their holds over their
realms; but in the case of Serethgin, the very destabilization that Eskenderom
had brought about had given Kleippur opportunity to seize control over the
province of Carthogia, and the resulting state of affairs had proved a hindrance
to the further development of Eskenderom's scheme ever since.
Kroaxia's acquisition of weapons from the Lumians, however, suddenly put
everything in a new light. If the reports of decisive Waskorian successes
against Kleippur's forces were accurate—as the invasion of Carthogia was
intended in part to test—the invasion would be completed swiftly and
devastatingly, and Kleippur would cease to be a problem. Then Eskenderom would
have to make his move against the other Alliance nations just as quickly and
with total surprise, while his advantage was overwhelming—before the Lumians
could restore a balance by arming Eskenderom's rivals in like fashion, as was
doubtless their longer-term intent. For a long time, however, Eskenderom had
been growing increasingly impatient over the traditional division of the powers
of state between its secular and ecclesiastical authorities; if the King were
now to find himself commanding powers potent enough to build an empire that
would stretch to the ends of the world, Frennelech was under no illusion that
his better nature would lead him to share such powers graciously with the clergy
to serve the founding of a universal Church as well.
As Eskenderom would already have concluded, the prospect of such a dramatic
decline of clerical power would put Frennelech squarely among his potential
opposition—the kind of opposition, moreover, that Eskenderom would doubtless
prefer to do without while he was dealing with the Alliance nations. The most
probable explanation for Eskenderom's taking such a secretive interest in a
laughable pipsqueak like Groork, therefore, and dispatching the loyal captain
Horazzorgio to retrieve Groork from Xerxeon, was that Eskenderom intended
replacing Frennelech with a tame puppet appointed by the Crown as its obedient
caretaker of all matters spiritual. As far as Frennelech's sources had been able
to ascertain, Horazzorgio still hadn't returned although he was long overdue by
even the most conservative estimates. That was worrisome because it suggested
that perhaps even more might be going on than Frennelech knew about.
Frennelech knew that Eskenderom frequently visited Gornod, the desolate spot in
the mountains east of Pergassos where the Lumian flying vehicles landed, to meet
treacherously with the Lumians behind Frennelech's back, even when Eskenderom's
servants assured him that the King was somewhere else. He also knew from his own
private rendezvouses with the Lumians in the dense forests to the west of
Pergassos that Eskenderom was trying to enlist the aid of Lumian magic to
present Groork to the Kroaxian population as a genuine miracle-worker and
revealer of Divine Will—because the Lumians had admitted it. True, the Lumians
had steadfastly denied that they had agreed to any such request, but how could
Frennelech rely on the words of those who had already betrayed Kleippur's trust?
Their only interest seemed to be their obsessive desire to tame the forests, and
they would reward with wealth, power, and protection any robeing in a position
of authority or influence who was prepared to cooperate with them in achieving
that end. Eskenderom commanded the Kroaxian army, but Frennelech controlled the
minds of the Kroaxian people. Which process would deliver a greater quantity of
willing robeing labor to the Lumians— force or persuasion? Both Eskenderom and
Frennelech were pressing their cases to the Lumians, and no doubt both were
hearing reassuring responses. But ultimately, which would the Lumians elect to
go with?
He gathered the sheets of foil together and locked them in a concealed
compartment in his desk, then stood up and walked through into the outer chamber
where his secretary, Archdeacon Jaskillion, was copying columns of numbers into
an enormous, plate-bound ledger. "Over eight twelves of dozens of six-crowns
received in penitents' dues and eternity prepayments last bright, and less than
two dozen twelve-brights' remission of Reduction Furnace time paid out,"
Jaskillion said, sitting back and looking up. "Gross margin up a twelfth and a
half. The Lifemaker should be well pleased."
"Then let the Lifemaker's business be kept private to the Lifemaker, lest
Eskenderom should commence levying a tax on it," Frennelech advised.
Jaskillion looked shocked. "But to tax the sacred revenues would be tantamount
to disputing the Lifemaker's judgment of His needs and interfering in the
prosecution of His works," he protested. "What sacrilege would the King be
committing thus!"
"Then it is our holy duty to avoid exposing him to the temptation," Frennelech
said.
The archdeacon studied Frennelech's face for a few seconds. "But thou didst not
come to banter such matters, I see. What troubles thee?"
"The Lumians," Frennelech said. "I cannot trust their assurances, but neither am
I able to order their casings seared with flame and acid for the truthfulness of
their words to be assessed by Inquisitors. And yet we dare not allow this
business to be decided by the whims of these unworldly aliens whose motives and
whose notions of truth are as unknown to us as the sky's far side of which they
speak."
Jaskillion's mood became more serious. "The question has been occupying my
thoughts too," he agreed.
"And what answers have thy thoughts supplied?"
Jaskillion paused for a moment to collect his words. "When a king becomes too
strong, it is usually time for the Lifemaker's divine, immutable plan to be
revised," he said at last. "It would be an error to permit Carthogia to be
sacrificed just yet."
"A force aligned against Eskenderom at this time is not one to be squandered—I
agree. But our invasion has been dispatched, and Kleippur's army is about to be
scattered and smashed. What shall save Carthogia then?"
"The Waskorians lie interposed between our army and Kleippur, and they too are
equipped with Lumian arms," Jaskillion pointed out. "Were they,
upon our secret
instruction, to ally themselves with Carthogia, the resulting combined strength
would perhaps be sufficient to hold out while Serethgin mobilizes against
Kroaxia."
"What relief could Serethgin's horde bring against Lumian devilment, which
confounds even Kleippur's trained regiments?" Frennelech asked scoffingly.
"Much, if the Serethginians too were issued Lumian arms," Jaskillion replied.
"Is this some foolish jest? We cannot confide in Serethgin's leaders and admit
them into our dialogue with the Lumians."
"Of course not."
"But who else would supply them with Lumian arms?"
"We would . . . discreetly. And after Eskenderom's defeat and removal, would not
Serethgin's gratitude lead it to support a claim by thee in turn to assume the
Supreme Archprelacy within the new unified state that Kroaxia and Serethgin
would become?"
"Mmm . . ." Frennelech looked suddenly more interested. "And Carthogia also,
after Serethgin regains the territory that rightfully belongs to it," he mused.
"Exactly . . . And if we could arrange by some means for all direct dealings
with the Lumians to be conducted through ourselves exclusively, the king of
Serethgin would have far more inducement than Eskenderom to agree to a
reasonable compromise on the sharing of power in any empire that might ensue."
Frennelech smiled faintly. "Certainly our claim to being intermediaries between
a higher form of mind and the world of mortal robeings would be indisputable,"
he murmured.
"Indeed so."
Frennelech became more businesslike once again. "But could Serethgin be equipped
and mobilized in time?"
"How long did Kroaxia need to be equipped and mobilized?"
"What reason could the king of Serethgin offer to his people for taking arms
against Kroaxia?" Frennelech asked.
"To defend their Waskorian brothers, whose faith Eskenderom is sending his
armies illegally into Carthogia to persecute," Jaskillion suggested.
"Hmmm—an appeal that would be rendered all the more persuasive after the
Waskorians had gone over to Kleippur's side."
"Precisely so. And Kleippur's insistence on freedom of worship for all is well
known."
"Would Kleippur accept Waskorian aid?"
"He has been deserted by the Lumians; his soldiers have been defeated by rabble
for lack of the weapons that the Waskorians possess; and now the survival of his
entire nation is threatened. He will accept."
Just then, hurried footsteps sounded outside, and muffled voices sounded of a
sentry at the door challenging and someone blurting a reply. A sharp rap sounded
on the door. "Who knocks?" Frennelech called out.
"Kelessbayne, O Illustrious One, sent by Chroschanor to convey urgent tidings of
events in the city."
"Allow him entry," Frennelech called to the guards. Kelessbayne entered and
closed the door behind him. He looked flustered. "Well?" Frennelech demanded.
"Groork, the hearer, has appeared again," Kelessbayne gabbled. "He calls himself
Enlightener, and has entered the city riding on a steam-donkey, preaching words
of faith that he says are the Lifemaker's. A multitude that grows larger by the
moment, bringing its sick, its blind, and its lame, is following him toward the
Central Square, where he says great revelations will be made known and wondrous
miracles come to pass."
Jaskillion was on his feet, his face tense with alarm. "What else has happened?"
he snapped. "Have there been signs of dragons in the sky?" Kelessbayne was not
among the few who knew the true nature of the Lumian vessels.
"Not in Pergassos. But Groork speaks of awesome happenings in the Meracasine—of
the whole Kroaxian army renouncing the ways of war, abandoning its weapons in
the desert, and returning hither to spread a new, nonviolent faith of universal
brotherhood."
Frennelech groaned inwardly. It could only mean that the Lumians had chosen to
back Eskenderom and were carrying out his plan to pass Groork off as a
miracle-worker. "Is the army at the city also?" he asked weakly.
Kelessbayne shook his head. "It is still an eighth-bright's march from the
gates, if Groork speaks truly."
"Was Groork present at these events that took place in the Meracasine?"
"Such is his assertion."
"Then how came he to the city so far ahead of any soldiers?"
"He claims that to prepare the way he was borne ahead by shining angels who ride
in creatures that fly beyond the sky."
That was as conclusive as anything could be—the Lumians had brought Groork to
Pergassos. There could no longer be any doubt but that they were in league with
Eskenderom. "Is the King still away?" he asked Jaskillion.
"He is," Jaskillion replied. Eskenderom was at Gornod, talking to the Lumians
again; Jaskillion wouldn't mention the place in Kelessbayne's presence.
Frennelech thought desperately. With Groork's arrival at Pergassos an eighth of
a bright ahead of the army, and Eskenderom still away, was it possible that the
Lumians could have miscalculated somewhere in their timing? If so, perhaps
Frennelech could do something yet to make their victory a little more costly.
From what he had seen of the Lumians' powers he could probably do nothing to
change the final outcome if they had made up their minds . . . but, if he was
going down anyway, he would go down fighting.
"Collect as many of the Palace Guard as you can scrape together and send them
immediately to the Central Square," he instructed Jaskillion. "Also, have my
carriage brought to the side entrance and inform the guard commander that he
will be under direct orders from me." He went back into his inner chamber to don
his outdoor cloak.
"What is thy design?" Jaskillion called after him.
"I have a suspicion that Groork's behind-the-scenes miracle-makers might not be
as prepared at this moment as they ought to be," Frennelech's voice replied. "If
that should indeed turn out to be the case, I fear for him that this performance
may well prove to be his last."
The crowd filled the Central Square of Pergassos and had started to overflow
into the surrounding streets as word spread around the city and onlookers
continued to arrive. Trading in the market had virtually ceased as stallholders
covered their wares and closed down, either to protect their stock or to give
undivided attention to what was happening. At the focus of it all, the
Enlightener, who had mounted the steps of the platform and speaker's rostrum
built in the center of the square, was holding a tablet of ice above his head
and sounding forth in a voice that rang with fervor and conviction. "I have
climbed the mountain and seen the angels. I have flown in the skies and seen
persecutors turned into baptizers. I have seen armies crumble at His command,
for now it has been written, 'Thou shalt not kill.' "
"Hear the Word that the Enlightener bringeth," one of the followers cried.
"Hail to the Enlightener!"
"We shall not kill!"
"Let he who disobeys be cast into the slave pits," another shouted.
"No!" the Enlightener's voice boomed around the square. "I say to thee that
<
br /> henceforth no robeing shall be a slave, one to another, for the Lifemaker's
commandment is written, Thou art thy neighbor's equal.' Thou shalt not bow thy
head nor bend thy knee before any that would proclaim thy inferiority to his
worth, or demand the fruits of thy labors as thy duty to his station."
"How, then, shall we accept the Carthogians, Master?" another asked.
"Accept them as the soldiers of Kroaxia, once their sworn enemies unto death,
have already accepted them—as comrades and brothers. No more shall robeing
murder robeing, but all shall work together to gain wisdom and understanding
until they are worthy to lift themselves into the skies and soar with the angels
that appeared over the Meracasine."
"What sayest thou, Master—that we too shall fly?"
"Yes! Yes! All who have faith and believe in His Word shall fly with the shining
angels, just as I have flown with them. This I promise you." The Enlightener
could feel the mood of the crowd, its desire to believe, willing that it should
be so. His eyes blazed, his skin shone in the light of the mid-bright sky, and
the expression burning from his face radiated the ecstasy that he felt as the
Lifemaker's force surged through every chip and channel of his being. He
extended his arms to stand with his cloak spread wide above the crowd, and the
crowd roared as the waves of rapture flowed outward from the center to break
against the surrounding walls like methane breakers in a storm, crashing against
ice cliffs at the ocean's edge.
"All are equal. We shall not be slaves!"
"We will work with our neighbors! We shall not kill!"
"When will we see the angels?"
The crowd's emotions were at a peak. The Enlightener sensed his optimum moment
approaching. "I shall summon angels, and then every robeing will know I speak
truly," he told them.
That was more than any mystic had ever offered before. "Show us the angels!"
they shouted back. "Summon the angels!"
"I shall command miracles that you may know I speak truly?"
"Show us miracles! Then we will know!"
"THEN BEHOLD YE HIS POWER!" the Enlightener thundered, and with a flourish drew
the praying-box from his pouch and held it high over his head. The whole square
erupted in shouts of wonder, and then quietened expectantly. The Enlightener
