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As the vehicle began to roll away, Trevod watched it with disdain.

For all he’d given that little man, Brooks had talked to him like he was an inferior.

He could not say he’d ever experienced that from someone so much lower than him, and he felt the urge to tell his men to put the Captain out the airlock without a suit.

Ah, but as much as he would like that, it would not be worth the trouble.

He told himself that, at least, while his insides squirmed.  Because he knew, ultimately, that if he did that, he would be signing his own death warrant.

Money did not stop bullets, did it?  And that was all he truly feared.  Someone actually coming for him who could not be bought off.

Here, he was a god.  In the Sapient Union he was just a person, and it terrified him to think how close he could skirt to his own destruction just with a whim.

A stablehand approached.

“Would you like to ride back, sir, or shall I have a car brought for you?”

“I’ll ride,” he snapped, seizing the reins the man offered.  “I may ride all day,” he said.

The man bowed deeply, but said nothing.  Trevod wanted to lash out at him, but took some deep breaths.

“And what of Rebel, sir?” he asked.

Trevod looked at the horse.  He was beautiful, perfectly trained for guests, but he did not think he’d even want guests over again for some time.

“Get rid of it.  Sell it for food, I don’t care.  It’s been sullied and I want it out of my sight.”

*******

On a cold winter day, fires roar in Ussa’s hall to keep the chill of winter at bay.

The doors to the crowded hall burst open and a mighty man enters, flanked by an entourage of strong and sturdy men and women, dressed as equals.

Herald:

Who is it who enters the hall of Ussa the Proud and Free?

Who trods in as if an equal to the one who has no equal?

In the name of Queen Ussa,

Strong of limb, fair of face, who can be held by no chains,

I demand an answer.

Usser:

From a far-off land I have come to bring greetings and solidarity

to Ussa and her people proud.

Even in our distant land we have heard of her and her deeds

Of her bravery in overthrowing the tyrant Breon.

My people, too, have thrown off the shackles of slavery and taken their fate

into their own hands.

Ussa:

Who are you, cousin?

We have not yet heard your name, though you stand in the warmth of my fire.

Usser:

I am Usser, leader chosen by my people, who have seized all that produces and proclaimed it for the common good.

We come in friendliness to your people and bear gifts of hope that the red fires of change will bring us all good futures.

Ussa:

You are welcome then, cousin, to my hall.

May the people throw up great cheers in your name, for you are clearly a brave people.

As for King Breon, he yet lives.

In my mercy I did not slay him, but he serves me now.

Ussa gestures to an old, confused man, dressed in rags and chains, serving as court jester.  He sits on a mockery of a throne, attended by children whom he thinks are his subjects.

Ussa:

You see how he pretends to still be a king when he is my pet?

It amuses us to keep him, and is rightful justice for all that he has done that he should now sink so low.

Usser and his people seem bothered by this, but do not say anything.

Usser:

Perhaps such a fate is fitting for a failed king.

Our own and his line met as quick an end as could be found,

For we see no need to keep them alive as trophies.

But come, cousin, let our people meet and mingle and spread joy amongst each other!

Usser’s people move to mix with Ussa’s.  Soon, there is drinking and singing and merrymaking.  Usser seems quite pleased, but Ussa soon grows more and more angry.  She beckons her advisor and speaks to him quietly.

Ussa:

Usser and his people are beloved by my people.

Could it be that they would come to love him more than they do me?

Would my people forsake me and send me to a fate like I have sent Breon to?

A mere pet, a puppet of flesh that serves my interests.

Advisor:

They are nothing compared to your grandeur, my Queen.

You see how their clothes are plain?

Their hair unadorned?

Their hands stiff with callouses from work?

Ussa:

You speak to compare them to me, and it is true – they are not as grand as I!

Yet my people’s clothes are plain.

Their hair is unadorned.

Their hands are stiff with callouses from their labor.

Perhaps in time they will come to see Usser as their kin more than I.

For they have more in common with each other than they do with me!

The Advisor had no wisdom to give.

Ussa:

Your silence speaks volumes!

You disgust me with your ineptitude.

But I know what I shall do.

We must not let Usser’s voice be heard.

Advisor:

How will we do that, my queen?

He speaks the language of the toiling man.

As you say, he too works and so they have this in common.

Ussa:

We will spread poison.

Spread lies of his misdeeds.

Tell of his follies.

Tell my people of their grandeur, convince them that Usser is not like them.

But a bumbling caricature that they should be shamed to be like.

And then, even when there are similarities they will not see them.

They will look upon their brother and hate him.

Advisor:

My Queen, you wish to manipulate your people with lies and poison?

Is that not dangerous?

Will our people not become fools, unable to see their own noses in the confusion this will bring?

What will we do when we do not have one man among us who can see or think straight?

Ussa’s face, cold and beautiful, beheld the advisor like an enemy.

Ussa:

They will have no god but me.

They will love none but me.

I am Ussa and they are mine.

Now and forever.

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< Ep 8 Part 21 | Ep 8 Part 23 >