“Liar! Liar!” said Viviana.
“As far as I am concerned, dear brother,” said Ingeld, “you need not marry a princess. I am perfectly ready to marry one of the princesses, either one. I cannot marry both. If you marry neither I need only marry one, and make certain the other never returns to Telnaria, where she might marry a Telnarian and bear a son, indeed, better, that she remain unmated.”
“That is easily enough arranged, Lord,” said Farrix, “a simple motion of the knife.”
“I do not want either of them,” said Hrothgar.
“And you are not wanted!” said Viviana, angrily.
“Hrothgar is a strong, handsome fellow,” said Farrix. “I am sure he could make you kick, and buck.”
“Do not be vulgar,” said Viviana.
Alacida began to weep.
“Stop blubbering, female,” said Ingeld.
“‘Female’?” said Alacida.
“Yes,” said Ingeld, “even a princess, even a queen, is a female.”
“I loathe men,” said Viviana. “I will have no feelings toward them. They are either brutes or fops. I cultivate frigidity. I pride myself on my inertness. I know nothing of sex, and will know nothing of sex. I am of the royal blood. I am a princess. I am superior to sex.”
“Let us get her clothes off, put her in a collar, and give her a taste of the whip,” said Farrix.
“Beat him, cast him out!” demanded Viviana.
“It is my understanding,” said Ingeld, “that many free women of civilization, of the empire, think themselves superior to sex.”
“They are different, once they are sold off the block,” said Farrix.
“And you, pretty Alacida,” said Ingeld, “are you superior to sex?”
“I fear not,” whispered Alacida.
“Good,” said Farrix, “strip her and get her in wrist-to-ankle shackles. It is easy to learn womanhood in chains.”
“It is easy to make a woman moan, and beg,” said Hrothgar.
“Please, let us desist in such vulgarity,” said Ingeld. “Consider the feelings of our guests.”
“Females,” said Hrothgar.
“Women of station, of refinement and sensibility, of education and breeding,” said Ingeld, “indeed, even princesses, not half naked, collared slaves.”
“I want neither,” said Hrothgar.
“And you will have neither!” exclaimed Viviana.
“I trust, dear brother,” said Ingeld, “you will reconsider your position on this issue.”
“No,” said Hrothgar.
“It is the wish of the king, our father,” said Ingeld.
“It is not my wish,” said Hrothgar.
“Then,” said Ingeld, “explain your reluctance to our father. Proceed, displease him! And remember Ortog!”
“Very well,” growled Hrothgar. “I will marry one or the other. What do such things matter?”
“Viviana is the eldest, and doubtless the most prestigious to wed, but Alacida, I speculate, would most likely be the first to bear a son.”
“You gentlemen, in making your plans,” said Viviana, coldly, “forget one thing. Neither my sister nor myself will consent to such an infamy. We are adamant. We would as soon espouse filchen as such as you, rude, gross barbarian lords.”
At that moment, the door of the hall swung open.
“The king,” was heard, from the door herald.
In the portal stood Abrogastes, looking about himself, then regarding the princesses, and his sons, near the high seat.
“It is raining outside,” he said, shaking his cloak, from which water fled, handing it then to an armsman. “It storms. The wind rages. It is cold. The night is dark.”
Ingeld and Hrothgar slipped to one knee, heads bowed. Viviana and Alacida remained standing, to the right of the high seat, as one would face it.
Abrogastes strode forward, and seated himself on the high seat of Ingeld’s hall. As soon as Abrogastes had passed them, his sons rose up, and turned to face the high seat.
“Ah,” said Abrogastes, straightening his small shoulder cape, with the large, dully glistening golden clasp, “here we have two princes, and two princesses. I trust matters have now been resolved.”
“Hrothgar and I, noble king and father,” said Ingeld, “as dutiful sons, loyal to the throne, stand ready to obey. As yet, the princesses prove reluctant to abide by your will.”
“You have not yet agreed on your brides, nor set a date for joyful nuptials?”
“No, father,” said Ingeld.
“By now,” said Abrogastes, “arrangements were to have been made.”
“I am sorry, father,” said Ingeld.
“Princesses?” asked Abrogastes.
“Release us!” said Viviana. “Return us immediately to Telnar!”
“I do not understand,” said Abrogastes. “You are princesses. My sons are princes. What, fine ladies, do you wish? I am prepared, against my better judgment, in unprecedented generosity, to permit my sons, of Drisriak blood, of the blood of kings, to mate with you, pale, flawed weaklings of the empire. Are you ignorant of the honor that is paid to you? Why do you not kneel thankfully to me? Why do you not rejoice? Why are your lips not pressed in gratitude to my boots?”
“Let us go!” said Viviana.
“Is that your wish, as well, slight, gentle Alacida?” inquired Abrogastes.
Alacida glanced to her sister, and then turned to face Abrogastes. “Yes!” she said, defiantly.
“Our guests wish to be released,” said Abrogastes to Ingeld, Hrothgar, and Farrix.
“It seems so,” said Ingeld.
“Well, then,” said Abrogastes, “let us release them.”
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.”