The Usurper

50

“Where am I?” asked Brother Benjamin. “Surely this is not the table of Karch.”

“No,” said Hunlaki. “This is the wagon of Hunlaki. You are in a Herul camp, the camp of the Herd of Chuluun, east of the Lothar.”

“How came I here?” asked the salamanderine, weakly. His small body took up scarcely a third of the rude couch.

“You were found near the edge of the herd,” said Hunlaki, “by my friend, Mujiin, unconscious in the grass. He nearly did not see you. The brown robe might have been cast-aside cloth. You might have been trampled.”

“He should have left me,” said Brother Benjamin. “I failed the brothers, I failed others.”

“You were nearly dead of exposure,” said Hunlaki. “For days I was afraid you would die.”

“Better I had,” said Brother Benjamin.

“You were alone,” said Hunlaki. “Mujiin found no others.”

“I wandered in the fields, for weeks, perhaps half mad,” said Brother Benjamin. “I failed the brothers, I failed others, as well.”

“How did you live?” asked Hunlaki.

“I drank from pools of water, I fed on roots, when I could find them,” said Brother Benjamin.

“How is it,” asked Hunlaki, “that you were found in the Flats of Tung, alone?”

“I failed the brothers,” said Brother Benjamin. “I failed others, as well.”

“I do not understand,” said Hunlaki.

“I am Brother Benjamin, of the festung of Sim Giadini,” said Brother Benjamin.

“The festung is no more,” said Hunlaki. “It was attacked and destroyed by imperial cruisers. There remains only ash and rubble, and the black, scarred, burned skin of a mountaintop.”

“No!” said Brother Benjamin. “The brothers!”

“They are all dead,” said Hunlaki. “You, alone, remain.”

“Woe,” said Brother Benjamin, weakly, in misery.

“How is it you were not in the festung when it was destroyed?” asked Hunlaki.

“There was a recreant novice, an Otung, named Urta, supposedly eager to join the brothers,” said Brother Benjamin. “He claimed to have received the calling of Floon, the emanation of Karch, on a windy, starlit night in the Otung forest. He made his way to the festung. Barefoot, and ill clothed, he besought admittance for days, outside the gate, waiting in the snow. The gate was opened. How could he be refused? He was accepted. He seemed a model of propriety; he ingratiated himself with everyone; he strove to serve the brothers, all, selflessly and tirelessly; he was zealous in his prayers and dutiful in his devotions; he was popular; all were pleased with him. He honored me, by seeking me out, to be his special guide and mentor. I was flattered. How could he be refused? He was accepted. He learned, as was no secret in the festung, that I was the guardian of a Vandal artifact, a medallion and chain. It had been found with a newborn infant in the Month of Igon, on the plains of Barrionuevo, in the year of the Claiming Stone, 1103, and entrusted to me by a Herul warrior.”

“He was I,” said Hunlaki.

“The Otung, Urta,” said Brother Benjamin, “as it turned out, had not come to the festung to seek the holiness of Floon, but to steal the artifact.”

“I know this Urta,” said Hunlaki. “He is a renegade Otung. He served us well. For years he was the Otung King Namer, the reign of a king, as we would have it, limited to a single year. In this office, he did much to thwart Otung unity, inciting competition amongst the clans, dividing them, keeping them at one another’s throat.”

“As he expressed interest in the artifact,” said Brother Benjamin, “I saw no harm in showing it to him. Doubtless, he marked well its housing in my cell. I returned to my cell one morning to find it gone, and Urta vanished from the festung. I suspect he knew more of its significance than I. Muchly distraught, for the artifact had been entrusted to me, to be held for another, I set out immediately, in pursuit of the thief, hoping to recover the artifact.”

“You would not do so,” said Hunlaki. “We conjecture it was soon conveyed to Venitzia, to the Exarch of Venitzia, to be transmitted thence, for some reason, to Telnar. Much seems to have transpired swiftly.”

“You said the festung is no more,” said Brother Benjamin.

“It is no more,” said Hunlaki.

“Why?” asked Brother Benjamin. “It is a quiet, holy place, innocent, untroubled, and remote, devoted to peace, prayer, spiritual exercises, the emulation of Floon, the contemplation of Karch. It stood for a thousand years.”

“No more,” said Hunlaki.

“But why would it be attacked, and why by imperial cruisers?”

“We speculate for two reasons,” said Hunlaki, “one political, one religious, both apparently weightier to humans than to Heruls. We think the medallion and chain has great importance to the Vandals and its possessor would have great power amongst them. To be sure we understand very little of this. Politically, the destruction of the festung would be designed to cover the theft and remove those who would know of it. Religiously, there are many versions of, and interpretations of, the teachings and traditions pertaining to Floon and Karch, their natures, their relationship to one another, and so on.”

“Of course,” said Brother Benjamin, “but what difference do such things make? The important thing is to respect one another, to care for one another, and love one another.”

“That seems to be less important to some than to others,” said Hunlaki.

“I do not understand,” said Brother Benjamin.

“It has to do with competitions for power, prestige, importance, and gold,” said Hunlaki.

“What have such things to do with Floon?” asked Brother Benjamin.

“Nothing, one supposes,” said Hunlaki, “but apparently it has much to do with power, prestige, importance, and gold.”

“That is to betray Floon,” whispered Brother Benjamin, frightened.

“Yes,” said Hunlaki, “profitably.”

“But in such competitions,” said Brother Benjamin, “would not the most ruthless, the most unscrupulous, the most determined, the least self-critical, the least humble, the farthest from Floon, the most arrogant, the strongest rise to the top?”

“Yes,” said Hunlaki, “and, to the extent possible, destroy all others.”

Brother Benjamin closed his eyes.

“It is not only the arn bear and the vi-cat which are territorial,” said Hunlaki.

“But imperial cruisers,” said Brother Benjamin. “I do not understand. Why would the empire be involved? The empire does not meddle in such matters. It is tolerant. It has always been. It does not stand between rational creatures and their gods. It does not choose one rational creature’s gods and force them, like laws and taxes, on other rational creatures.”

“Perhaps,” said Hunlaki, “until now.”

“Gods exist or not,” said Brother Benjamin. “They do not require the state’s attention or licensing in either case.”

“The existence or nonexistence of gods is not relevant,” said Hunlaki. “What is important is power, prestige, importance, and gold.”

“Woe,” whispered Brother Benjamin.

“Had the medallion and chain not been stolen, and had you not left the festung, hoping to recover them,” said Hunlaki, “you would have perished, as the others, in the destruction of the festung.”

“Better I had,” said Brother Benjamin.

“No,” said Hunlaki.

“Sir?” asked Brother Benjamin.

“I saw, and handled, the medallion and chain briefly, long ago,” said Hunlaki. “Yet I remember it clearly. You received it. You cared for it for years. Doubtless you could recognize it, as well.”

“Yes,” said Brother Benjamin. “Each tiny flaw and blemish, each link in its order, the proportion of each link to another, wider or narrower, the cuts of blades on links and on the medallion itself, apparently sustained in combat.”

“So,” said Hunlaki, “it is better you did not perish in the destruction of the festung.”

“How so?” said Brother Benjamin.

“We know the story of the medallion and chain,” said Hunlaki. “We can recognize it.”

“So?” said Brother Benjamin.

“I delivered the artifact to you long ago,” said Hunlaki. “I am not pleased that it was stolen. I am determined to recover it.”

“It is gone,” said Brother Benjamin.

“I am old,” said Hunlaki. “But I am a Herul. I am a rider, a hunter. I am tenacious.”

“Where would you look?” asked Brother Benjamin.

“Given the destruction of the festung, putatively a holy place, and what I can gather of the lethal absurdities of religious strifes, pretending the authorizations and endorsements of one god or another, this excusing murder, and such, I suspect the medallion and chain were conveyed to Venitzia, to the Exarch of Venitzia. If this is so, as the Exarch of Venitzia, a provincial capital, is subordinate, as I understand it, to the Exarch of Telnar, the imperial capital, I am supposing that, for whatever reason, it was carried to Telnar, and, presumably, to the Exarch of Telnar.

I am unclear as to what the purpose of all this would be.”

“You would venture to Telnar?” said Brother Benjamin.

“We will venture to Telnar,” said Hunlaki. “I shall pose as your servant. The salamanderine is recognized as a rational species. Indeed, your Floon, as I understand it, was of a kindred species. They need not know that the Heruls are a superior species.”

“There are no superior species,” said Brother Benjamin.

“The arn bear is superior to the filch,” said Hunlaki.

“The arrow which slays the arn bear ignores the filch,” said Brother Benjamin. “The filch passes easily through the meshes of the net which snares the arn bear. The arn bear needs much on which to feed, the filch little. Indeed, the arn bear starves where the filch thrives. The arn bear is little nourished by the filch, but a hundred filchen may feed for three days on the carcass of a single arn bear.”

“The fleet ones,” said Hunlaki, “the pine deer, the antelope, the tiernik, the gazelle, the spotted forest ram, and such, are swifter than the steers of Tung.”

“But one stroke of the horns of a steer of Tung can disembowel a fleet one,” said Brother Benjamin.

“Doubtless you frequented the library of the festung,” said Hunlaki.

“Yes,” said Brother Benjamin, “but some things are generally known.”

“I will speak for you,” said Hunlaki.

“I will speak for myself,” said Brother Benjamin.

“That is my fear,” said Hunlaki.

“Perhaps I may be able to instruct the Exarch of Venitzia, who, as I understand it, suffers from theological confusions, in the error of his ways,” said Brother Benjamin.

“Allow him to persist in his ignorance,” said Hunlaki.

“I would enlighten him, of course, in a kindly, gentle, loving way,” said Brother Benjamin.

“And pave the way to the burning rack, for both of us,” said Hunlaki.

“Is it not a beautiful thing to die for Floon?” inquired Brother Benjamin.

“Not, really,” said Hunlaki. “You will take a vow of silence.”

“A vow of silence?” said Brother Benjamin.

“You are not permitted to lie, are you?” asked Hunlaki.

“No,” said Brother Benjamin.

“I do not suffer from a similar impediment,” said Hunlaki, “except where those of the camp are concerned.”

“So I am to take a vow of silence?” said Brother Benjamin.

“Yes, but I will set its terms, conditions, limits, and such,” said Hunlaki.

“Would Floon approve of this?” asked Brother Benjamin.

“Wholly,” said Hunlaki.

“I see I am not of the camp,” said Brother Benjamin.

“Do not concern yourself,” said Hunlaki. “A great many are not. Few are so fortunate. I will now fetch you some broth, and you may rest. You must regain your strength.”

“What you propose is exceedingly dangerous, is it not?” asked Brother Benjamin.

“Yes,” said Hunlaki.

“Then I may yet die for Floon,” said Brother Benjamin.

“It is quite possible,” said Hunlaki.

“Good,” said Brother Benjamin.

“For myself, I would prefer to occupy myself otherwise,” said Hunlaki.

“Broth?” asked Brother Benjamin.

“I will fetch it,” said Hunlaki.