Wars of the Aoten

  Chapter XL

  Raspar men and women, Raspars who had never before felt the fullness of the sunshine nor the wind blowing their hair, picked about among the stones of the tower ruins. The fallen wall left a gaping wound in the city, and the Raspars could reach the stones through exposed doorways while still hiding behind the rubble. Scores of bodies slowly emerged to be lined up on the floor of a wide hallway, each man’s tool belt removed and placed at his side.

  Mercedi knelt by Wessex. “Aye, even in his blindness, he will not have died in vain.”

  The scene played out in the forest; Geoffrey knelt by Artur. “He will not die,” said Theodoric, as he listened for Artur’s breathing and heartbeat. Geoffrey could not speak.

  “He has a head injury, but not fatal, it appears,” he continued, and then saw the moisture around Geoffrey’s eyes. “No, he will not die today. But when he does, so will his line, for the sake of an empty tradition.”

  Mercedi stood up.

  “Lo, the regent is dead, damnable fate,” said Linus. “Long live the regent.”

  The Raspars lay the bodies of their dead on litters, which they hoisted upon their shoulders. Her people placed Mercedi in an odd chair, the feet fitted with inverted bowls that rested upon the heads of four men. With Wessex’ body at the lead, followed by Mercedi and then the other bodies, a procession began. Up stairs and down again, through every tower of the city, Mercedi and the dead were paraded by each watching Raspar. Eventually they wound their way deep into the catacombs, where the bodies were laid upon generations of skeletons. Then the procession, carrying Mercedi alone, worked its way to the council room.

  “Nay, Raspars will not have a woman regent,” Severus growled at Vespus.

  “Lo, she is child of the regent,” Vespus replied, always prepared to be suspicious of Severus. “We have always known it would be thus.”

  “Nay, but Raspar men have never given authority to a woman!”

  “Aye, but a simple quirk of fate makes it so. Even still Mercedi is the child of the regent.”

  “Lo, it does not have to remain so,” said Severus.

  “Lo, what mean ye?”

  “Lo, Mercedi is without a child herself.”

  “Aye, but that certainly will change one day.”

  “Nay, but she spurns men! She toys with men!”

  “Aye, and that too will change one day.”

  “Nay, not if we change regent now,” Severus lowered his voice as Raspars filed past.

  “Lo, what do ye suggest?” asked Vespus, his suspicions verified.

  “Lo, we must rid ourselves of Mercedi and her line. We must kill the regent!”

  “Nay, but ye seek an odd ally for your treachery!”

  “Aye, so ye say, but we must kill her! Then we start a new line.”

  “Lo, and who would be head of this line? Ye? Nay. Ye shall find no Raspar to aid you in this crime. Your years of wickedness and deceit have come back upon ye, for no Raspar will join ye now in treason.” Vespus pressed his face into Severus’, empty eye-socket first.

  The bearers placed Mercedi’s chair upon the great stone table, and Linus mounted a stone bench behind her. In both hands he held aloft a rich woven cape, the royal ceremonial robes of the regent. He held the vestment high over Mercedi’s shoulders before the clan. The gold embroidery sparkled from the deep purple fabric even in the dim light within the city walls.

  “Lo, I give ye your regent —” he began.

  “Nay, but the Raspars will be led by no woman,” said Severus, head bowed but his voice loud enough to be heard.

  “Nay, nay, nay,” a chorus of a few voices responded.

  “Lo, she is child of the regent!” said Vespus.

  “Nay, the Raspars have had no woman regent in all our history!” shouted Severus, making no pretense this time.

  Murmuring grew in the room so much that voices could not be made out, neither “aye” nor “nay.” Linus stood like a statue, still holding the cape in place, looking about in befuddlement. The laws of the clan had never before faced open challenge. Mercedi gave Severus a hard look and scanned the confusion of her people. The well-ordered culture of the stone city threatened to fall apart like the tower, giving way to unknown forces.

  She stood from her chair and reached around to Linus. With a flourish she pulled the cape from his hands and threw it around her shoulders herself. Holding it securely about her, she announced, “Aye, behold ye your regent!”

  “Aye, ye dung-eaters,” said Linus. “I give ye Mercedi Zardracon!” and the grumbling swelled into shouts.

  “Lo, ye shall be still!” ordered Mercedi. “There will be peace among Raspars inside the walls! It is our first law!” She glared at Severus.

  The council room slowly settled into quiet. Mercedi beheld her clanspeople with a knowing frown.

  “Lo, the city walls have been breached!” she proclaimed.

  “Aye, aye, aye,” the chanting began.

  “Aye, and our enemies dwell without.”

  “Aye, aye, aye!”

  “Lo, and friends dwell without as well!”

  “Aye —” Chanting mechanically enjoined quickly dissipated into silence.

  “Aye, there dwell friends of the Raspars outside the walls!” she declared, determined to take advantage of disunity.

  “Lo, ye would betray the Raspar city to outsiders!” screamed Severus.

  “Nay, but the outsiders have taken the Eternal City already,” Mercedi replied. “The giants can fell another tower any time they return!”

  “Aye, the outsiders helped fight off the giants,” Rhodan offered, his voice cracking. Mercedi’s sudden attempt to change Raspar prejudice and fear came even while her leadership hung by a thread: Rhodan well knew the danger of what she undertook, and that her supporters would share her fate, whichever way it fell.

  “Nay, we must kill them! Kill them!” said Severus frantically.

  “Lo, we Raspars have power to kill the outsiders, but not to save ourselves. We have had our weakness proven to us,” said Mercedi. Murmuring again filled the room.

  “Aye, and I will kill ye!” screamed Severus.

  “Nay, but ye will hold!” said Vespus. “Ye will do no harm to the regent — it is our first law.” He stood next to Mercedi, still upon the council table. “Nor will ye do harm to the outsiders. Wessex so said,” and he made sure Severus knew he spoke to him first, and then to the rest of the room.

  Mercedi took her opportunity: She went to one knee and drew Vespus’ ragged sword from its scabbard, then slapped it upon the table loudly. “Lo, one lies wounded outside. He will be brought inside the walls to be tended.”

  “Nay, nay, nay!” began a small chorus. Severus bared his teeth and seethed.

  “Aye, but aye, we will bring him in!” Mercedi declared. “And he in turn may well save the Eternal City!”

  “Nay, what can outsiders do for us?” called out voices.

  “Lo, they throw mighty rocks through the air,” said Rhodan.

  “Aye, and one killed a thylak with a toothpick,” said Hadrian meekly.

  “Aye, and that one lies wounded,” cried out Mercedi. “Like my namesake Mercia before me, I will not let Raspar fear feed upon honorable blood! I will let no more innocents die on our account!”

  “Aye!” said Rhodan.

  “Aye!” said Vespus.

  “Aye!” said a handful of others.

  “Nay! I want to kill ye!” Severus screamed again.

  “Lo, there lies your choice,” said Mercedi, indicating Severus with one hand. “Who do ye choose to follow, Raspars? Declare!” The rest of the clan held stolidly silent. Not one would align with the madman.

  Theodoric looked up at the afternoon sun, then back at Artur, still unconscious. “We should have brought Aachen. Perhaps he would know what medicine to use.”

  “We need to get him to cover,” said Geoffrey. “If the Aoten return, he’ll be helpless and I with him.”

  Theodoric looked down tender
ly upon the ancient father and considered his awkward declaration of loyalty to Artur. “You judge rightly. Yet I doubt they will come back soon. Unfortunately, I suspect they now return to our woods. The tree falls easier when hit by flint.”

  A spinning Koinoni said, “A window pokes out its tongue.”

  “What?”

  The Koinoni indicated the city, and the travelers turned to see a small structure descending upon ropes from a mid-level window. When it reached the ground it lay flat, ropes at either end.

  “Lo, do ye hear me?” a voice called from a different tower, from the window that Theodoric had peered into the day before.

  The Melic chieftain scampered to the tree and climbed upon the platform in a blink. Through the window he spotted a face, which belonged to Rhodan, though Theodoric didn’t know it.

  “Yes, we hear. What would you have?” he asked.

  “Lo, our regent Mercedi sends me on an errand of mercy,” said Rhodan.

  “Mercedi regent? And what of Wessex?”

  “Aye, killed. Mercedi succeeds her father to the regency, for he is dead in the giants’ attack. Mercedi is our regent, and we do not suffer upheaval.”

  “You will not be needed,” Yarrow said quietly to the Koinoni smaller than he, and she nodded silently, willing to barter her flesh to a king but of no value to a queen. The grace of battle had relieved the price of whoredom.

  “Will Mercedi speak to us then?” Theodoric asked.

  “Nay, the Raspar regent will not condescend to speak to ye. But she sends her mercy.”

  “But we come as kings and regents ourselves.”

  “Nay, ye still are not worthy to speak to the Raspar regent. But lay your injured man on the litter, and we will lift him inside the walls’ safety.”

  “We will not send him alone. We number twelve in all, and no less than twelve will enter. A missing tooth makes the whole head ache.”

  Rhodan’s face disappeared, and after a moment a rope ladder unfurled from the window. The sojourners secured Artur’s inert body to the stretcher, and watched it slowly rise up the wall of the first tower. Arms reached out of a window a level lower than the one from which the ropes extended and pulled the litter inside, end first. Then the ropes went slack and slipped like a serpent back inside the tower.

  “Well, are we ready?” asked Theodoric.

  Each one nodded assent, and one by one they scaled the ladder and entered the forbidden sanctuary of the Raspar city through the only door offered, even, with some difficulty, Dungo.