Penumbra - Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Four
The two men sat facing one another across the wide table in the small room. Since it was both the ecclesiastical and the political capital of Junonia, Aleofane was rife with such ‘whisper‘ rooms where private conversations could be held, safe from eavesdroppers or public notice. A carafe of drinkable wine and two only slightly dusty glasses completed the furnishings while the curtained walls muffled any sound and supplied a sense of isolation which the two found welcome, each for his own reasons.
“I’m grateful you could come on such short notice. You’re looking better, Anjh. Life must be treating you kindly these days. I’ve heard your lady is to bear you a child. Is this true?” Naufrage was wearing his most fatherly, most genial guise.
“Yes, Jaithlym has done me that honor. I thank you for your concern.”
“It’s always a happy occasion to greet the birth of a first child. I congratulate you and wish you many more.”
“That’s not likely. Naufrage, it was I who requested this meeting but you who expedited it. Which of us shall speak first?”
“Go ahead. My reasons can wait a while yet.”
“I wanted to see you in order to make a request. I must ask you to release me from my oath; I have been accepted as a Warrior in another venue - one not under your direct command.” Anjh leaned forward tensely in his chair, watching carefully for the response.
“I know where you’ve been accepted, lad. And it’s not good. Caffolas intends you harm; in fact, he intends your destruction after he has used you for his own advancement. I spoke to him earlier today and you were the subject - that’s why I advanced our conversation - to warn you. If you give it any thought you can easily understand why Caffolas does not wish you well. He sees you as both a rival and a tool to be used to accomplish what he is unable to do for himself. And then he will discard you. No, I will not release you.”
“Why not? What are you saving me for if not to fight for you? I can handle Caffolas no matter what he’s plotting and I’m willing to take my chances so why are you restraining me?”
“You’re far too valuable to be wasted in a minor campaign like the one Caffolas is conducting. Come now, look at things logically - you’re old enough to have completed your tour of duty as a Warrior. If you followed the path of most Prydain, you would be going back to Ban Khatour about now to start in another profession anyway, so why the rush to return to the dirty business of war? We didn’t save you to throw you away like this.”
“You Lamasoni have an unhealthy preoccupation with my age. You refer to my advanced years every time you want an excuse to keep me away from battle. I didn’t believe you in the hospital or in the Council chamber and I don’t believe you now. You speak of logic, there was no logical reason for you to make such an effort to keep me alive if you were only preserving me to go back to Ban Khatour and take up life again as an ordinary member of my clan. Precisely why did you save me if not to lead your armies? I’ve been wondering about that since the day I awoke to what had happened and learned that you were behind it.”
The older man shook his head ruefully, “I’ve gone about this very clumsily. I should have told you everything from the beginning and enlisted your help openly instead of trying to maneuver you without your knowledge. Blame my habit of secrecy - it’s a hard one to shake after so many years in politics. When I chose to try to save you after my disastrous misjudgment on Mount Nothscar it was a gamble made in desperation. The truth is that I couldn’t afford to waste you. I’ve been watching you for longer than you can know and decided several years ago to hold you in reserve for a project I was only then beginning to shape. ... It’s my job to manage things in this society so I have to think a very long time ahead and try to have the pieces in place when they’re needed. The entire performance on the Mountain was to be your final mission, the one that would confirm all the legends that I was helping to grow around you. And when you damned near upset everything by getting killed - well, what was I to do? Bury what was left of you or restore you and hope you could be persuaded to become what I had groomed you for?” Naufrage dared to speak so openly because he had immediately determined that he was going to have to invade the mind of the Prydain if he expected to have any chance of suasion at all, however he persisted in a somewhat frantic attempt to make his point verbally. “As I said, I talked to Caffolas earlier today and am in no doubt what he intends for you. He hopes to use you as a cat’s-paw to winkle out whatever is in that pit of his. Surely you can see this is an unworthy purpose for a man of your caliber; you’re meant to be so much more and there are those of us within the Council who want to put you in a place more appropriate for you. We’re willing to give our allegiance to you as whatever you would care to call yourself as ruler in Aleofane and the rest of Junonia.”
Anjh sat silently for a while, looking at him with utter disbelief, then, pushing up from his chair, he moved restlessly around the room, aimlessly swatting with his cane at the tapestries hiding the walls. Naufrage watched with the ominous patience of a cat following the moves of a prey it knows cannot escape.
At last, Anjh returned to his seat and, slouching in the chair, his legs stretched before him, answered, “You’re a fine piece of work, aren’t you? Moving people around like so many tokens on a board. Now, listen to me - I have neither the stomach nor the talent for political office. Jaithlym told me the first time we met that you had some sort of intricate plan for me but this beggars the imagination. Maybe you should take up fiction instead of governing; you seem to be better suited for that. What you’re hinting at with this exhalted language sounds like the bad plot of a romantic novel; ‘whatever I care to call myself’ - what sort of stupidity is that? I know what I call myself. I’m a Warrior and a Warrior I mean to remain. If you won’t release me from the promise you forced out of me, then I’ll simply break it; Aleo knows another stain on my honor shouldn’t concern me at this stage of the game.”
Now it was the turn of the Laimak to delay his response - he stood and, taking the carafe, walked behind the chair in which Anjh sprawled as though to pour fresh wine in the glass before him. Bending over the Prydain's shoulder, Naufrage, in a seemingly casual gesture, suddenly spread his fingers across Anjh's head, gripping the temples between finger and thumb. Anjh started forward, then slumped back, his eyes closed and his breathing calm as though in sleep.
Both were unnaturally still as the Ombrios sent tentacles of thought into the other man’s mind, probing and hunting. Carefully, the priest tested the limits of his penetration. He advanced slowly, venturing onward only when he was sure of his ground, withdrawing at the first hint of resistance. He could take his time since he had secured Anjh's awareness as his first move and could not be cast out until his control was relaxed.
The objective for which Naufrage was aiming was the decision making center - the cerebrum. Once he attained it, he intended to change a few neural pathways to make Anjh more amenable to the idea of taking power for himself. However, as he gingerly inserted his mental probe into the frontal lobe, Naufrage was astonished to encounter something he had never sensed before; there was an alien presence lurking in the cells there, a second entity coexisting with the basic substance of his subject. Or was it coexisting? He thought he detected a struggle for the primacy then rejected the very notion as too fanciful for credibility. He paused and tried again; the anomaly was no longer detectable but the mind itself had become impenetrable to the probes the priest was using. With a puzzled grimace, he gave up and, lifting his left hand from Anjh's head, continued to pour the wine as their conversation seamlessly resumed.
“Anjh, you’re too eager to court danger. I read something other than a simple concern for honor in your words. You seem burdened by the conviction that you’re guilty of a crime and yet, after searching your history, I can find no mention of any incident of dishonorable or even dubious behavior. What have you done that so weighs you down and makes you find life intolerable? What has made you Thanamant? Do you call yourself that as well as Warrior?” Even while talking, Naufrage desperately cast about for other means of persuasion now that the direct mental route was blocked to him.
Anjh drank deeply before he answered, “I will not confirm your use of that word and I won’t satisfy your curiosity. It’s enough that I know my crime, that I understand what I have to do to salvage what’s left of my name... Oh, gods, this is a monumental joke. I’m torn into so many parts - my body, my name, my honor - nothing is whole; nothing is intact any more and there’s no mending it... You seem to think that our relationship is a one-way street. You ask all the questions and I obediently answer like a docile acolyte. You took advantage of the situation in the hospital to assert a certain dominance over me and you’ve been abusing that power ever since. Well, it’s over now, Ombrios. If you were threatening to publicize what happened between us there, go ahead - you’ll come off the bullying bastard you are and I can’t be damaged any more than I am. So, go ahead. I’ve told Caffolas that I'll be at his camp in a fortnight and I will be there, ready to do what he needs done.”
Naufrage had not spent all those years as a politician to no purpose, “Now that we’re done calling one another names, are we in agreement that a Prydain's word has no value?”
“Not when gained by extortion. I was a prisoner when I first made a deal with you and I did what I said I would do. There was no more trouble in the hospital; I tolerated their exploiting me without protesting because I reasonably thought I would be rid of you and your oversight once I escaped that place. Then you extracted another agreement from me before you let me leave that den of vivisectionists and yet another when I came before you and your cabal. When, if ever, am I going to be free of your demands and be my own man again?”
Naufrage raised a soothing hand. “Calm down. I’m not your evil demon. As I told you at the beginning - I’m your savior. The promises I’ve asked of you are for your own protection.”
“I don’t want to be protected - I don’t need you to protect me!” Anjh struggled to his feet again. “You and the Brisevant and Harad and Jaithlym - the whole damned world - seem to believe I’m some sort of fragile artifact that needs to be wrapped in tissue and stored away for special occasions. I’m a Warrior and I want to get back to my profession! Must I break my oath?”
“I would nave thought a Prydain would die rather than dishonor his word.”
“Die? That’s what I’ve been trying to do! Now, Ombrios ... Release me from my oath!”
“No. I will not do that. If you go to the Feneralia, you will go as an oath-breaker and your honor will be soiled this time. Believe me, lad, I won’t have the slightest hesitation in publicizing your bad faith all over the continent. I won’t let you throw away the life we gave back to you without at least considering what we’re offering instead.”
“Then state clearly and unequivocally exactly what you’re offering. All you’ve done so far is hint darkly and dramatically about some yet-to-be discussed diplomatic and leadership role for which I appear to be the perfect - the only - choice. What in Aleo's name are you talking about?” Anjh pounded the floor with his cane.
The Ombrios uttered a deep sigh, “All right, sit down and I’ll explain some more things to you... You may have not have observed that the populace is becoming disillusioned with our current form of government and can’t be kept quiet much longer. Those of us who see what’s coming are preparing to give them something more emotionally satisfying to replace Counciliar rule. I won’t go into the details of the plans we’ve made - time enough for that when you agree to help us. But the ultimate result will be a benign theocracy under the rule of a Hierophant who will hold his power directly from Aleo, or something like that. Needless to say, much of this will be a façade, the religious part in particular, but the power will be real and it can be yours.” He paused hopefully.
“You want me to be some sort of jumped-up priest pretending to spread the blessings of Aleo on a credulous population? I don’t know whether to laugh or vomit. Why pick me? This is ridiculous. I’m not even a believer, let alone a priest.”
“I chose you because of your age and your reputation. You’re young enough to catch the fancy of the mobs and have the energy for this job and old enough to be believable in the position. Besides, your age fits into the Voltefase thing so that makes your move more creditable. And you’re already an idol to a certain portion of the populace because of your appearance in theatrical discs. For the rest, as I mentioned to you back at the hospital, an authentic war hero has a cachet that’s irresistible; even the disaster on Mount Nothscar plays into this. Those mechart limbs you so despise will be a constant reminder to the populace of what you sacrificed for Junonia ...”
“Stop! You’re going too far! You mean me to use these... these things to gain sympathy? What in hell’s name do you think I am?” His voice was choked with anger.
“I think you’re a sensible man who will eventually reach the conclusion that his days swinging a sword and firing a gun are over. I pay you the compliment of assuming that you are capable of reason. Think, lad - that’s why Karcad asked your age when he recruited you; I had instructed him to do so because I had to make sure you fit the profile. And as for your last objection, as I assured the members of the Council who are with me in this - it’s not necessary for you to be either a believer or a priest; you have only to be good enough an actor to pass scrutiny as a god during your public appearances.”
“As a what!” Anjh pushed himself upright in the chair and stared with widened eyes at the man across from him.
“Well, what else would a man who died and came back to life be to believers who are hunting a miraculous answer to their problems?”
“Are you the one behind those stupid whispers jumping like fleas from fool to fool, the ones my minders are trying so hard to shield me from? Is there nothing too ridiculous for the simple-minded denizens of this asylum to believe? Damn you - you’re worse than I thought; is nothing beneath you?”
Naufrage did not respond to the tone but to the content, “If you had ever paid attention to what’s happening in the world outside the boundaries of a battlefield, you would have noticed that things are falling apart - the world has a new demon in Archaos, now it needs a new god. Aleo just isn’t very effective anymore. And just at this time of our need, we are presented with the perfect made-to-order image of a heroic man who cannot die. You’ll find it an easy role to play.”
“You give me the choice of being an oath-breaker or a liar of unprecedented proportions? Interesting idea of honor and ethics from the Laimak Ombrios.”
“I’m afraid that’s pretty much what it boils down to. Don’t decide right away; think about it. Listen to me, Anjh. Just because you’ve become a Hunter of Death doesn’t mean you have to stay one. You can change your mind, find another way to redemption if you think you need it. For example, if you hate the idea of becoming Hierophant or god so much, why not let that be your expiation - you can die to your ambition and sacrifice your existence as a Warrior to save the people.”
“You’re a revolting sophist! And that’s the second most ridiculous argument I’ve ever heard.”
“Just promise me you’ll think about my proposal. It’s a better deal than dying in that wasteland out there.”
Anjh grimaced, “Do you really think so? That’s one major difference between Prydain and Laimaki; we don’t always go for the easy answers. Don’t count on me for this, Naufrage. Every time I’ve promised you something, I end up paying forever. Be content with what you’ve already got from me... I’ve listened to your presentation; I decline it - so now will you release me?” He flinched and suppressed a groan as pain shot through his left thigh, warning him to quickly terminate the meeting before he was forced to betray his shameful weakness to the older man.
“Anjh! Are you all right? What’s happening?” The Ombrios, still wondering about his earlier discovery, had been observing closely and was immediately alarmed.
“Just a cramp; I don’t get enough exercise. Will you release me?”
“Not yet. I ask one last concession. Think seriously about this offer for a week before you reject it. If, after real thought, you decline then I’ll release you. In the meantime, I trust your discretion. This entire meeting and what we have said here must remain only between the two of us - agreed?”
“Without hesitation; I don’t want to look like your dupe again. However, I remind you that I haven’t confirmed your speculation about what I am, so don’t start spreading more gossip about me. You’ve done enough with this stupid ‘god’ story.” Anjh drained his glass, replacing it with exaggerated care on the table, and, wrapping his concealing cloak about him, limped from the suddenly too-small room.
Meetings with Naufrage always depressed him. The burly man was inescapably linked to that time in the hospital when he had elected not to accept what had been imposed upon him and had done his utmost to change it. It had been the most degrading and devastating period in his life - that alternately plush and cruel imprisonment of both his body and his mind. He refused to repress the memory of what had happened, finding it useful as a warning against ever again permitting himself to behave without forethought. The image of the left arm, dangling from a single attachment, the hand broken off and the sheath holding the left leg levered from its place with blood spurting like a broken main - those were trip-wires for him, cautioning him against impulsive acts.
At the time it had happened, he had regretted only that he had not been able to finish his dying before he was dragged like an injured dog back to the grim theatre where Nolex waited to repair the damage. Now, it was the aftermath that he cursed for the leash that Naufrage had maneuvered around his neck. He had been left immobile and helpless, fettered by both chemical and physical restraints, unable to think coherently or drag himself out of an abyss of confusion and nightmarish visions. He had lain there more an object than a man until the Ombrios came and offered him a way out - and he had taken it - he had buckled around his own throat the very collar he still wore. The shame of that surrender swept over him and brought his progress down the street to an abrupt halt. He could not make that sort of mistake again. He was not so limited this time and there were other arguments against allying himself with the Laimak but the overriding consideration was the need to deny that man any more control over his life. He would consider the offer but knew already that he could never bring himself to accept it, especially not with the hypocritical attachments of a fraudulent religion.
As though the memories of his agonies had conjured up the sensations themselves, he became aware of the encroaching pangs in his arm and leg. These attacks were getting more frequent and more severe as the months wore on and often seemed to be triggered by stress of some sort. This day had been a particularly bad one - marked as it was by Jaithlym's examination, the encounters with Rispa and Alcina and now this irksome meeting with Naufrage. Hoping not to have attracted undue attention, Anjh turned down a convenient alley to compose himself and strengthen his mental barriers before he hailed a floater. Once he was settled in the vehicle, he carefully reordered his mind to contain such thoughts and tried, as he had so often before, to sever the connections between that time and the person of Naufrage.
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Back in the whisper room, Naufrage reluctantly accepted that his quarry would never consent of his own will to an alliance with any of the Lamasoni and turned his attention toward identifying the force which had blocked him from interfering in Anjh's mind. His logical first step was to re-create as best he could exactly what he had felt when he maneuvered his mental probe into the frontal lobe. He had just begun to explore the area to determine precisely which pathways would need to be changed when he had become aware of another presence alongside his in the brain. Just what had it been? Had another entity preempted his plans to control the man?
Naufrage admitted to himself that however much he studied the various races of Junonia he could never master all the characteristics of all the unique cultures that scrabbled for a toehold on the available land. The Prydain were a particularly hard crew to infiltrate; they had so many arcane talents that were shielded from outsiders and their people were very close-mouthed about their peculiar differences. Maybe what he had run into was a distinctively racial form of mental defense designed to automatically repel invaders from that most private and important portion of the mind. He wouldn’t put it beyond them to have developed such powers since they were noted for their mental discipline.
Or, he suddenly thought, could it be a remnant of whatever treatment had been used after the death of Biyonne? He was fairly well convinced that Anjh had suffered a period of madness at that time and that he had been squirreled away somewhere until he had regained sufficient sanity to return to the world at large. Had those preeminent mental manipulators among his race planted some sort of safe-guard to prevent a recurrence of the collapse or a unique shunt to re-direct the more dangerous reactions that might precipitate such an event? Aleo knew that was as possible as any other explanation.
Yet another solution emerged in the restless brain of the Ombrios. He admitted that he was still obsessed with his belief that Anjh had learned something while lying dead on the Mountain. Could he be protecting that knowledge whether consciously or inadvertently. Maybe what had been hedged off from an intruder’s touch was a truth of such magnitude that it would destroy the universe as it was currently known. With a twist of his lip, Naufrage forced himself away from that thought; even if it was valid, he could never test it - therefore it was a dead end.
On the other hand, the Ombrios admitted that he himself had been under unusual stress at this meeting, concerned about Caffolas’ plots and impatient to persuade Anjh to accept the idea of serving in the capacity for which he had been designated rather than returning to the endless battles of the current war. It wouldn’t be bizarre for a man to see his own worries and fears take form as obstacles to his success. After all, it was that phenomenon that Naufrage had concluded made Archaos so fearsome. It was entirely possible that he had created the anomaly in Anjh's mind out of his own uncertainty and indecision.
Still, he was almost convinced that there had been a real presence there and that Anjh was unaware of it. Fretfully, he poured more wine and gulped it in a single swallow. He would just have to put some of his interns on the job of combing all the files they had on the Prydain to see if there was any mention of anything like the effect he had felt. Naufrage wondered if the Other which appeared to share Anjh's mind had been in any way responsible for that apparently thoughtless remark he had let drop. It was unlikely in the extreme for a man so careful in his words as Anjh to casually confess his obsession with death while seeming oblivious to what he had said. It was as though he had not even heard himself. And then to deny that he wanted to die when directly asked... The Ombrios had not the slightest doubt that the man was a Thanamant, but still ... that heedless statement? Could it possibly be that Anjh was no longer totally or solely in command of his own mind? What the hell was that creature squatting there so comfortably ensconced in the head of the Prydain?
Unable to make further progress without more information, Naufrage shifted his thoughts to the second subject that had troubled him during the interview - what was the pain that Anjh had so hurriedly suppressed toward the end? His explanation sounded valid enough - lack of exercise must surely be a problem for a man who had always been active and was now so cruelly constrained in his movements - but a highly sensitive nose for misdirection told Naufrage that idleness was not the whole of the matter. Nolex and the other Ordmun Healers and surgeons were the people to contact for insight on this. He scribbled a quick note on his cuff so he wouldn’t forget to check it out. There might be something serious going on here and, if so, he needed to know. Naufrage thirstily drank another glass of wine and sighed; it wasn’t easy to run the world. He had been given to understand that once the initial surgeries were over and Anjh had healed, there would be only the task of learning to use the mechart limbs standing between him and complete recovery. Well, not complete, exactly, but near enough to serve in the position the Ombrios had envisioned. So, what did this pain all these months later mean? Uneasily aware that the meeting with Anjh had posed far more questions than answers, Naufrage heaved himself up from the chair and wearily departed.