“And there are ships, and heavier armaments than these,” said Abrogastes.
“With such weaponry,” said a man, “one might challenge even the empire.”
“With such weaponry,” said Abrogastes, “we are more than a match for the empire!”
“We can attack her upon a thousand fronts!” said a man.
“Those who rule the empire,” said Abrogastes, “are soft and weak. We are hard, and strong. They are satisfied. We are lean and hungry. The empire, and everything within it, by the decree of nature, belongs to those who are strong enough to take it!”
“Yes, yes!” cried men.
The tables resounded with acclamatory pounding.
Then Abrogastes pointed to the prone women, the former ladies of the empire, by the spear.
“Huddle,” cried he, harshly, “sluts!”
Swiftly the women, terrified, rose to their knees, and, guided by the switches of the boys, crowded closely together.
“More closely, in a circle!” said Abrogastes.
And then the women, the more than fifty of them who had served at the long tables in the great hall, who were all the women in the hall other than Huta and the three display slaves, already huddled, already crowded and pressed closely together, weeping, to the jangle of ankle bells, were forced into an even smaller space, a tinier round space, one they could scarcely occupy.
“Behold the beauty of their bosoms, the narrowness of their waists, the width of their hips,” said Abrogastes. “Are they not pretty?”
“Yes,” cried out more than one man.
“And they have slave collars on their necks, and slave bells on their ankles,” said Abrogastes.
“Yes!” said men.
There was much laughter.
“What are they?” asked Abrogastes.
“Slaves!” cried men.
Abrogastes made a sign to one of the men who had brought in the rifles and he, adjusting the device, suddenly, walking swiftly about the crowded women, holding the weapon down, tore, at their very knees, in a swift, but extended torrent of fire, a close ditch about them, which, better than a yard deep, smoked, and was bright with fused stones. The women screamed, the bodies of many reddened from the heat, the knees of some scorched, and clutched one another, and drew back, the tiny bit that they could. There was a piteous jangling of bells.
Abrogastes turned to the horrified leader of the display slaves, in her chains, to his right, at the foot of the dais.
“To whom do you belong, all of you?” he asked, gesturing to her, to the other two display slaves, and, broadly, to the weeping, crowded, huddled slaves within the circle, smoking, cut by fire in the floor of the hall.
“To you, Master!” she cried.
“To whom do you belong, all of you?” he inquired again, fiercely.
“We belong to our barbarian lords, Master!” she cried.
“Is it fitting?” he asked.
“Yes, Master!” she cried.
“For what do you exist?” he asked.
“To serve our masters with instant, unquestioning obedience and total perfection!” she cried.
“Yes!” cried men.
There was pounding on the tables.
“Those of the empire,” said Abrogastes, addressing the tables, “hold us in contempt. They call us ‘dogs’!”
Men, and others, cried out in fury.
“But these,” said Abrogastes, gesturing to the women, those huddled before the spear, and the three, the display slaves, chained to his right, neglecting only the prostrate Huta, “are all high ladies of the empire!”
There was laughter.
“They call us ‘dogs,’ “said Abrogastes, “but their high ladies, as you can see, are no more than the lowest of our bitches!”
“Yes!” cried men.
“Do you think we can find uses to which to put them?” inquired Abrogastes.
“Yes!” said a man.
“Yes, Abrogastes!” cried another.
“Yes, milord!” said another.
Abrogastes then, in the purple robe, of imperial purple, trimmed with the fur of the ice bear, viewed the tables, as a huntsman, a warrior, a statesman.
“My brothers,” he said, “many of you were apprehensive, seeing the spear of oathing brought to the hall. That is understandable. It is brought here tonight only that you may remember it, and think upon it.”
“No, father!” cried Hrothgar.
“Many, too, are reluctant to accept rings, though they are accorded here, this night, only as tokens of fellowship and esteem, of hospitality and good will. Your reluctance in this matter, too, is understandable. Surely we have fought amongst ourselves so long, and quarreled so frequently, that jealousy and suspicion are only to be expected. Indeed, is not our division, and our differences, one of the mightiest weapons of the empire, and mightier even, perhaps, than her ships and cannons? What a fearsome fate it must be for her the moment we should band together as the brothers we are. Together we outnumber her by thousands. She is mighty only as we are weak, only as we are many, and not one, and one not as abandoning our chieftains or kings, not as forgoing ourselves, not one as coming to be of one tribe or people, but one as being a thousand tribes and peoples with but a single purpose, the conquest of Telnaria.”
The tables were quiet.
“It is true,” said Abrogastes, “that I have invited you here tonight that we may think upon our enemies, upon the empire, and consider whether or not we are cowards, or warriors. I, myself, have long enough prowled the perimeters of rich countries. I, and my people, and yours, have long enough been shut away from well-watered pastures and black fertile fields. I have seen new worlds before me. The future has called to me. It calls to us. I will answer. I do not know if you will answer or not. Tomorrow I will learn.”
Men looked at one another.
“Tonight,” said Abrogastes, “we have feasted. Tomorrow, at noon, when you have slept, and thought, and your minds are clear of bror, so none can accuse me of imposing upon you, of cozening you to unwise pledging while in the pleasant delirium of drink and gifting, tomorrow, outside this hall, on the summit of the mountain of Kragon, on its lightning-smitten, seared stones, I, and those who follow me, will swear upon a ring, and upon the spear, our vengeance on an empire, and our undying determination to make her ours. We will swear brotherhood, and vengeance, and war.”
“In twenty days,” said a man, “the stones will leave the sky.”
“Then let the lionships be unleashed,” said a man.
“Much planning is in order,” said Ingeld.
“Who would be the leader of this thing?” inquired Farrix, a chieftain of the Teragar, or Long-River, Borkons. The Borkons were the third largest of the tribes of the Alemanni nation. The second largest was the Dangars. There were several branches of the Borkons, the largest being the Lidanian, or Coastal, Borkons.
“Whoever is lifted upon the shields,” said Abrogastes.
“But only as lord of war,” said Farrix.
“And for a time appointed,” said another man, a high fellow of the Aratars, a people from Aratus, in the constellation of Megagon.
“We shall see!” said Hrothgar.
Two men sprang to their feet, but, in a moment, cautioned by their fellows, returned to their bench.
“I shall retire now,” said Abrogastes, “and leave you, if you wish, to your deliberations.”
“What of the sluts?” called a man.
“Ah,” said Abrogastes, “it seems I had forgotten them.”
There was a jangling of bells as the former ladies of the empire, crowded together in the small space, like an island within the encircling ditch, now naught but stripped, collared, belled slaves, trembled.