“Slaves!” said Viviana, scornfully.
“Yes, slaves,” said Abrogastes.
“And what instruction are we supposed to receive from this exhibition?” asked Viviana.
“You, pretty Alacida,” said Abrogastes, “you do not speak.”
“I am afraid to speak, Lord,” she said.
“It seems you are wiser than your sister,” said Abrogastes.
“Do not call him ‘Lord’,” said Viviana.
“He is a lord,” she said, “amongst barbarians.”
“Look upon these slaves,” said Abrogastes, “and be instructed.”
“And what am I to learn from half-naked slaves?” asked Viviana.
“Behold how generously they are clad,” said Abrogastes.
“In scarce a scrap of cloth,” she said.
“Still,” said Abrogastes.
“I do not understand,” said Viviana.
“Many women of the empire,” said Abrogastes, “serve naked in our halls, in locked collars, barefoot, in the dirt and rushes, hurrying about our tables, serving meat and bror, hoping not to be switched. Many, naked, neck-ringed, tend our huts, serve in our fields, care for our pigs, weave in the women’s quarters, are slept at our feet.”
“What has this to do with us?” asked Viviana.
Otto, unable to restrain himself, burst out in a great laugh.
“Ho, Otung,” said Abrogastes. “I see you have considered these supposedly noble creatures as what they are, mere females.”
“Yes, Lord,” said Otto. “And even, long ago, in a summer palace. Even then I wondered, doubtless as have many others, what they might look like, stripped and collared, kneeling, bent down, their lips pressed to a Master’s feet.”
“Beast! Beast!” cried Viviana.
“Viviana,” said Abrogastes.
“Do not presume to use my name, barbarian,” said Viviana. “Address me as ‘Princess’.”
“Viviana,” said Abrogastes, “say ‘I, Viviana, princess of Telnaria, am the captive of Abrogastes, the Drisriak. I understand that he can do with me as he wishes.’”
“Never!” said Viviana.
“Very well,” said Abrogastes, “strip her, and whip her.”
“No, no!” said Viviana. “I, Viviana, princess of Telnaria, am the captive of Abrogastes, the Drisriak. I understand that he can do with me as he wishes.”
“And you, pretty Alacida?” asked Abrogastes.
“I,” she said, “Alacida, princess of Telnaria, am the captive of Abrogastes, the Drisriak. I understand that he can do with me as he wishes.”
“I think, now,” said Abrogastes, “we understand one another.”
“Imperial fleets close,” said Julian. “I do not understand why you linger.”
“Perhaps,” said Iaachus, “we should do our best to delay your departure.”
“I do not linger,” said Abrogastes. “I conduct my business with dispatch.”
“May I inquire,” said Iaachus, “what is the king’s business?”
“Why,” said Abrogastes, “to inform the princesses of their good fortune.”
“I see no good fortune in this,” said Viviana, “lest it be to observe your immediate departure.”
“In Telnaria, as I understand it,” said Abrogastes, “it is the custom, in triumphs, to parade captive queens through the streets in chains of gold.”
“It has been done,” said Iaachus.
“In what you call barbarian worlds,” said Abrogastes, “it is customary to place them in chains of iron and teach them to juice at a man’s glance.”
“Despicable beast!” said Viviana.
“Have the engines warmed!” called Abrogastes. “We depart!”
A susurration of satisfaction coursed amongst the intruders. Who knew if the timing of captains was inerrant? It takes a finite amount of time for a string-sprung arrow, a fired charge, a falling bomb to reach its point of impact. It is not well, obviously, to misjudge the interval.
Several men rushed from the room.
“Go!” cried Viviana, pointing to the great portal of the throne room. “Go!”
“Gather up the princesses,” said Abrogastes, “put them in the carts, outside.”
Rude hands were placed upon the royal bodies.
“Unhand us!” cried Viviana.
“You are coming with us, princesses,” said Abrogastes.
“No!” cried Viviana.
Alacida wept, struggling in the grasp of a barbarian.
“I now inform you of your good fortune,” said Abrogastes. “You will be brides for my sons.”
43
“No, no, never!” cried Viviana.
Telnarians surged forward, but stopped, short, menaced by leveled rifles. They clenched their fists, helpless.
“Brides for my sons,” laughed Abrogastes, slapping the arm of the throne with his left hand.
“No, never!” cried Viviana. “My sister and I will never consent! You cannot enforce such an outrage upon us!”
“Then I will have you sold as sluts on a mud world,” said Abrogastes.
Viviana threw her hand before her face, in horror, as though some physical, monstrous thing had intruded itself upon her sight. Alacida was limp, lapsed unconscious within the grasp of the warrior who held her.
“Put them in the carts,” said Abrogastes, “and hie to the ships, with all speed.”
Viviana was dragged screaming from the throne room, and Alacida, unconscious, was borne away in the arms of her keeper.
“Great king,” cried Iaachus, “no priest, no ministrant, no judge, no official, no captain of a vessel, not of sea or air, or space, would officiate at such a marriage!”
“Thousands would do so,” said Abrogastes.
“The empire would not recognize it,” said Iaachus. “It would not be sanctioned by the senate!”
“The senate will sanction whatever it is told to sanction,” said Abrogastes.
“Such a marriage would be spurious,” said Iaachus.
“Not if done at the behest of the princesses,” said Abrogastes.
Abrogastes then stood, holstering the pistol. He then adjusted the purple draping on the throne, regarded it for a moment, and then turned and descended to the level of the tiles. He paused to glance at the five kneeling, tunicked slaves, four on a neck rope, and one with her head down and her hands bound behind her back.
“What shall we do with these, Lord?” asked a Drisriak.
“Leave them,” said Abrogastes. “They have served their purpose.”
He then strode from the room.
A barbarian, a Dangar, lifted up Huta, in her chains, and carried her, following Abrogastes. Most of the barbarians then left the chamber. Those who held Iaachus, Julian, Otto, and the others at bay backed away a few feet, and then turned, and, too, left the chamber. One could already hear the readying of engines from beyond the great portal.
“What can be done?” asked Julian.
“Little, at present,” said Iaachus.
“Surely the plan of Abrogastes is mad,” said Julian.
“Not at all, my noble friend,” said Iaachus. “I fear he has researched the matter with care. He is doubtless better informed of the rules of dynastic succession than many jurists. The princesses may not sit upon the throne, but, if they bore male issue, their issue would be next in line to the throne. If Emperor Aesilesius should abdicate, or, Orak forbid, in some way meet his end, perhaps as did his father, and his grandfather, the son of either Viviana or Alacida, whichever was first born, would be emperor.”
“And the regent then, governing in the emperor’s minority, would be Abrogastes,” said Julian.
“Or one of his sons,” said Iaachus.
“Confusion would be rampant,” said Julian. “Incipient revolution would be abetted, secession would be invited, invasion welcomed.”
“The empire might be divided a dozen ways,” said Iaachus.
“Civil war would ensue,” said Otto.
“The empire, divided against itself,” said Julian, “would do work on which a dozen armed barbarian nations could not improve.”
“And then,” said Otto, “the Lion Ships return.”