The Towers Of Melnon

Chapter TEN

The first result of Blade's becoming Queen's Steward was that from a mere scoffing skeptic, Nris-Pol, the former steward, became Blade's open and active enemy.

Not that Blade really blamed the man. To sit in the Council of Wisdom and listen to the queen cast him down from the powerful office was bad enough. To see a man who had literally come from nowhere elevated not only to the status of a hero but to his old office was worse. And worst of all was sitting and listening to the queen's explanation of why this new arrival and new hero was receiving the appointment. Custom and good manners dictated that she veil the reasons slightly, but nobody had any doubts on the matter. Nris-Pol was being kicked out of the Stewardship and out of the Queen's bed because Blade-Liza was better at making love to the queen than he was. Nris-Pol was proud, and his temper became as foul as a half-starved bear's.

However, there was nothing he could do, except grumble and growl and spread evil gossip and ugly rumors. The stewardship was by law and custom and common sense entirely the gift of the Queen herself. «Common sense» was perhaps the strongest consideration, since one of the steward's duties was the sexual gratification of Her Splendor. With some queens this had been an easy job. With others, such as Mir-Kasa and her mother Bena-Kasa, it was a demanding job that wore out a good many of its holders. So the queen's preferences would have ruled whether the law said so or not. Any Council of Wisdom that ignored the fact would have shown itself sadly lacking in the quality after which it was named.

The fact that Nris-Pol was as impotent officially as he had become in the queen's bed did not keep him silent. Nor did it keep him from causing trouble. A rumor that he spread industriously was that Blade and the queen were considering compensating the dead slave-girl's family for her administered death at the hands of the First Warrior. Blade found both the rumor and the idea that it could have any serious effect ludicrous. That is, he found them ludicrous until people began coming up to him and asking him quite seriously:

«Is the queen compensating that girl's family?»

«How are you ever going to find the right people? You must realize, the Low People breed like animals. They have no real families. They could never have them. So the money would never get to the people who deserved it, even if they did deserve it.»

«It's a ridiculous precedent.»

«It's dangerous nonsense.»

And much more in the same vein. Blade started taking both the rumor and the talk it was causing more seriously, at least to the point of denying the rumor. Neither he nor the Queen were planning on compensating any Low Person for anything suffered at the hands of any High Person. Did they think he was a fool? Or Queen Mir-Kasa? Obviously a few people would have liked to say yes, but no one quite dared.

Eventually Blade mentioned the matter to the queen herself. The discussion that followed gave Blade a much clearer notion of how things were run in the Towers of Melnon. At least in the Tower of the Serpent, he corrected himself. Each tower had its own set of rulers with their own set of rules and rivalries. And the Tower of the Leopard was set apart from the others by even more than that. He still had not found out what those differences were, however, and he did not feel that Mir-Kasa was the right person to ask. At least not now.

But she was very eloquent on the problems of Low People versus High People in the Tower of the Serpent.

«Of course I wouldn't think of offering compensation. That girl was wantonly disobedient. She would never have fitted into my plans for the Low People.» Blade resisted the temptation to ask what those plans were. He had already tried once, and Mir-Kasa had at once become exceedingly cold and formal. «It is not time for you to know them,» she had said, with glacial politeness. «Please do not ask me again.»

The queen shrugged and continued. «Besides, whoever said that the Low People breed like animals is quite right. It's all catch-as-catch-can down there on the Low Levels.»

Blade ventured to inquire, «Are you sure it's their fault?»

Mir-Kasa looked at him as though his face had broken out with yellow and pink spots. «You sound too much like Bryg-Noz for your own good. Or my peace of mind. He was always saying that the Low People are wretched because we force them to live under wretched conditions, and nonsense like that. The present batch of Low People is useless. But in time-yes, in time-we shall see.»

What was going to happen «in time» obviously concerned those secret plans of Mir-Kasa's. And it was obvious that whatever changes in the scheme of things in Melnon the Queen might be planning, doing anything for most of the Low People wasn't among them. At least «the present batch» of Low People. Mir-Kasa was not interested in reform or freedom or revolution. She would not have recognized any of these things if they had come up to her and bitten her on the ankle. She was interested in power-power for the Tower of the Serpent among the Towers of Melnon, power for herself in the Tower of the Serpent. That became even more obvious after Blade's next exchange with the queen.

«Why does everybody practically jump up and down and scream with fright or rage when they think of somebody helping the Low People?»

«Why shouldn't they? In all of the towers except the Leopard, the Low People outnumber the High at least five to one. Thanks to the War Wisdom the High People have only their swords and the Administering Wands. And there is one Wand for perhaps every ten of the High People. If the Low People ever got the notion we respected or feared them, they might begin wondering why they live as they do? They might even begin wondering how to get up to the High Levels and attack us there. And if they did that, we'd have to kill every one of them before they did the same to us.»

«I see.»

«Do you, Blade? Sometimes I wonder. No matter, if you do what I say, I care not what you think. Just keep your thoughts to yourself.»

That was advice that Blade had been giving himself at periodic intervals ever since he arrived in this dimension. It was getting harder and harder for him to follow it. He decided to switch the subject, at least partly.

«Aren't all those Low People a terrible expense? I should think there would be cheaper ways of doing the few chores they seem to do.»

His efforts to try arguing the matter logically were not very successful. Mir-Kasa snorted like a horse and made a rude noise in Blade's ear. «Once more, you're talking nonsense. What would we be, without the Low People to minister to us? And what else can a person win among us, except the right to have more Low People serve him?» She shrugged her bare shoulders. «The War Wisdom keeps our wars cheap and the Peace Wisdom keeps our wants few. If we had no Low People to order around, we might start making our wars bigger. We might start all dressing differently, or trying to furnish our chambers with many pieces of furniture, or eating bigger meals than our neighbor. We cannot live long that way.»

Blade could not resist putting in, «We manage to live fairly well that way in England.»

«Yes, and they have no Low People in England, to hear you tell it. Well, you don't need them. But we do. Without the Low People, the Towers of Melnon would fall down into the dust and weeds of the Waste Land, and men would soon forget that Melnon ever stood upon the land.»

Blade was beginning to feel that to fall and be forgotten was all that Melnon deserved. He was far from sure that anybody in any of the Seven Towers had anything worth bringing home, learning about, or even looking at. Their lives seemed to be a dreary round of stylized wars, petty politics and gossip, frugal meals (ninety different kinds of synthetics), and trying to dress distinctively when it was illegal to wear a color other than that of your Tower. It was a miracle that all the people of all seven towers had not long since died of sheer boredom.

Perhaps Queen Mir-Kasa was right. Perhaps the chance to order around, browbeat, torture, and kill the Low People who served them was all that kept the High People of the towers sane. Certainly Blade could see that working off their blood-lust on the Low People would make the warriors more willing to abide by the War Wisdom. If, when you felt really furious, you could borrow an administering wand and watch some Low People girl writhe in agony, you were less likely to run wild on the Plain of War. Blade sighed. The position of the Low People made the way Melnon was run more logical. It didn't make it any more appealing to him, though.

Blade did not find out for several weary weeks what Mir-Kasa's plans actually were. These weeks were not entirely disagreeable, for Mir-Kasa apparently could not get enough of his lovemaking. He could quite cheerfully have got enough of hers, however. Out of all possible bed partners, he would not have chosen a woman nearly as large as himself, whose appetites were insatiable and whose notions of love-play sometimes resembled all-in wrestling. By the end of the second week, Blade had bruises in every place that Mir-Kasa could get a firm hold on him. Fortunately she did not mind being bruised in return, or Blade's head would have rolled many times over. He could not help wondering whether Mir-Kasa's psychological make-up was sadistic, masochistic, or an alternation between the two.

Apart from making love to the queen, there was little for Blade to do. His household duties as Steward were negligible; professional masters gave all the necessary orders to keep the domestic arrangements running smoothly. He did make one change, assigning a master of the First Rank to administer erring Low People, rather than following custom by doing it himself. He had to admit that he was not tough enough to watch people scream and writhe under the pulses of the wands-at least to himself. But he could hardly admit this to Mir-Kasa.

Instead he gave her a long line about notions of honor as a warrior that had been deeply ingrained into him in England. «It would be repugnant to my honor, my dignity, and my self-respect to wield the administering wand. It is not a warrior's weapon, for it is useless against a man or woman willing to either fight or flee. It is only an instrument for punishment»-he nearly said «torture» — «and execution of criminals. It can be nothing more.»

«You think it can be nothing more, eh? Is that your objection to it?»

Feeling that Mir-Kasa was playing games with him, Blade nodded slowly.

She smiled. «Perhaps one day I can make you change your mind.»

«I doubt it,» said Blade stubbornly.

«You would,» said Mir-Kasa. «You have very strong notions of what is right and wrong. Too strong, sometimes. But I think someday the wand will get around those notions, and you will find one in your hand.» She gave him another cryptic smile, and drew his hands down to cup her breasts. Blade wondered what she might be getting at for several days, then he forgot the matter almost entirely.

Being a man of comparative leisure, he had a good deal of time to explore the tower, at least all the levels where the High People normally went. He was particularly interested in the work chambers, where complex machines produced all the food, clothing, and other necessities apparently out of basic elements brought from God knows where. Blade was not sure that the current inhabitants of the towers could have created this advanced technology, but he had to admit that they were using it well. The workers, the lowest-ranking class among the High People, seemed to be the most sensible among them as well.

He also had time to keep his hand in as a warrior. He fought at least one practice bout a day against a good opponent. And although he fought in no wars, he did learn the fine art of using the lifters. In fact, he learned them so well that he occasionally struck poses while rising or descending, convincing Pen-Jerg among others that he did indeed have «a strong heart.»

There were also the meetings of the Council of Wisdom, which Blade could not help feeling was rather ill-named. It consisted of the five high officials of the Tower-First Warrior, First Scribe, First Surgeon, First Worker, and First Master-and six women representing the rest of the High People. The six were elected annually. After seeing and hearing them, Blade could not help suspecting that they were elected largely for the number of their chins and the number of words they could get out without saying anything.

Not that anybody really needed to say anything in the Council. The work of the Council was by and large cut out for it by the War Wisdom and the Peace Wisdom. The only decisions that had to be made were whether a given action was or was not permitted by the relevant Wisdom. Nine times out of ten, it was not. Blade began to wonder if the concept of «crime» existed in the towers, apart from violations of the Wisdoms:

That kind of violation was comparatively rare, but it was punished with terrifying severity when it occurred. The case of a violation of the War Wisdom arose during Blade's second meeting. A warrior was accused of having tried to get behind his opponent in the war fought the day before. The wretched man tried to defend himself, but was shouted down by the First Warrior with terrible curses. He was sentenced to be publicly stripped of armor and weapons, given ten minutes of Medium Administration (also in public), then degraded to the Low People for life. From the talk he heard after the prisoner had been hauled out, this was not a rare or unusually severe penalty.

That night he could not help raising a question with Queen Mir-Kasa. «Is it altogether wise, to send so many warriors and other able High People down among the Low People? After all, they do not lose their abilities simply by being degraded. It would seem to me that there is some danger of their someday getting together, finding a leader, and raising the Low People in that revolt you fear so much.»

Mir-Kasa laughed harshly. «You do not understand how the minds of the High People work, Blade. To go down among the Low People kills their spirits and whatever abilities they may have possessed as High People. They are only shells of their former selves, perhaps less than the Low People who have lived down there all the days of their lives.»

To Blade's trained ear, however, those words did not carry complete assurance. Mir-Kasa sounded as if she were addressing a public meeting rather than stating what she knew-or at least felt-to be true. He could not help wondering, and being silently suspicious.

His suspicions proved justified. One night a week later Mir-Kasa herself led Blade down into the low levels. And that night Blade finally learned the details of Mir-Kasa's plans-for Melnon, for her tower, and for the High People and the Low alike.