Renegade of Callisto
- Автор: Картер Лин Спрэг
- Серия: Callisto #8
- Язык: английский
- Жанр: Научная фантастика
Электронная книга - «Renegade of Callisto». Краткое содержание книги:
Far from his adopted home, the Golden City of Shondakor, Koja, self-exiled insectoid of the Yathoon Horde, has blundered into the savage land he had renounced, accompanied only by little Taran, ward of Prince Jandar. Lost in the treacherous scarlet plains, the two are hurled to separate, unnamable fates —Taran forsaken in shackles, along with the lovely Princess Xara, while the renegade Koja is locked on a perilous course of vengeance for the evils done to his clan. All destinies collide at the Great Yathoon Games in the hidden valley of Sargol — the impenetrable citadel girdled by a seething mote of flames.
In the spine-tingling tradition of Edgar Rice Burroughs, Lin Carter again transports us to a strange and sublime landscape pulsating with the flash of swords, secret splendors, and ever-lurking danger.
At this time Koja also introduced to me his mate, a slender and elegant female named Nourya. His prize for excellence in the Games, and for winning the throne by the defeat of Kamchan, was the right to breed with Nourya for a season.
Never having been introduced to a Yathoon female socially before―never having even seen one, come to think of it!―I was fascinated to meet this first member of Koja’s harem. As for Nourya, she seemed quite unexcited or nervous at meeting a human male, and greeted me calmly, as if it were an everyday occurrence for her to be introduced to a Prince of Shondakor.
The emotionlessness of the Yathoon is something I will never quite come to understand or feel comfortable with.
Among the other innovations that Koja planned to begin introducing to his subjects was that of parenthood. When the larva laid by his mate hatched, Koja intended raising the cadet in full acknowledgment of his paternity. This would doubtless be viewed with mixed emotions by his subjects, who were about the most hidebound band of strict conservatives imaginable, and it might even scandalize them. But Koja was of the opinion that, in so doing, he would not seriously jeopardize his claim to the throne or his authority among the Clans.
He was curious to learn if this novelty in childrearing would inculcate in the as-yet-unborn cadet something resembling the normal feelings of filial devotion common to human children. He rather suspected that it would.
I think he was also curious to find out if he himself could feel love for his own offspring. I rather suspect he will …
And, then, something would have to be done about the many slaves held captive by the various Clans. Having been a slave himself to the Garukhs, Koja naturally did not feel that he would stand idly by and watch the misery of the human captives held by the Horde―separated from their wives or families and far from the cities of their birth, hopeless possessions of a soulless and unfeeling and very alien race.
The freeing of the slaves, however, must be done gradually so as not to disrupt the traditions of the Yathoon with unnatural haste. But the paying of ransom for the lives of captives was not unknown to the arthropods, and Koja believed that he could gradually, in slow stages, encourage representatives of Shondakor and Tharkol and Soraba and the other cities of Callisto to attempt the ransom ‘of their own people.
I promised to discuss this with the rulers of the neighboring cities and to arrange for the exchange of prisoners.
Koja also hoped to introduce reading and writing to the Yathoon, and to discourage the duello, and to begin something like a code of laws to govern in the place of ancient traditions. But all of these things would require time and patience and tactful persuasion―if inaugurated too swiftly, or all at once, the Yathoon Hordesmen would doubtless balk and Koja himself might be unseated. But he firmly intended to initiate these more civilized measures when he felt that the time was right.
Now that Koja had related to me all of his recent adventures, I was curious to learn how he was conducting himself as Arkon of the Horde.
The very first thing he had done, Koja informed me, was to set his comrade Borak in place as the new high chief of the Haroob Clan. As Borak had formerly held that position, and was himself raised among the Haroobs from the time he was a mere cadet, this afforded no real problem. And, of course, Borak had slain Gorpak, the former high chief, in man-to-man battle, which made his elevation to the princely office in accordance with the oldest Yathoon traditions.
The only one who might have objected strenuously to his attaining the chiefship would have been the wily and treacherous Hooka. But since Hooka had been slain in the famous game of live Darza―and I was genuinely sorry not to have been a witness to that most amazing chess game ever played on Callisto, I assure you!―there was no one left to raise his voice against the chiefship of Borak.
In fact, the Haroobs were by this time heartily sick of Gorpak and his bullying ways and blunders in judgment, and thoroughly detested the scheming and sneaking ways of Hooka. And, since Borak had ruled them wisely and well during his former term of office, they welcomed him back warmly. Or as warmly as a Yathoon can, anyway.
And what about the venomous Fanga, former high chief of the now-eliminated Garukh clan, I wondered. Fanga, after all, had cast the vote of the chiefs against Koja shortly before my skycraft came into view. Was Koja wise to let a virulent and jealous enemy lurk unslain in the midst of his people, to whisper and conspire against him?
I was relieved to hear that Koja had already thought of the dangers the potential jealousy and rivalry of Fanga presented. And he had found an unusual but remarkably clever means of mollifying this last of his enemies.
He had given Fanga the Kandar Clan to rule.
“But―Fanga hates the Kandars!” I protested in bewilderment at this enigmatic and foolhardy step Koja had taken.
My friend nodded somberly.
“He hates the Kandars,” stated Koja solemnly, “because they chose another leader over him, the notorious Gamchan, whom I later slew. The one thing in the world that Fanga most desired was to become the high chief of the Kandars, in which Clan he was raised from cadethood, as was I.”
“You mean―?”
“I mean that, for one thing, the Kandars require a high chief. And Fanga is a high chief without a Clan. To put the two problems together was to solve both of them at one stroke. And Fanga has achieved the position he so heatedly desired. He also has the pleasure of knowing that his successful (and therefore hated) rival, Gamchan, is dead. Fanga will, I trust, lead the Kandars well.”
“But, Koja-inn,” young Taran demanded urgently, “I thought that you were the high chief of the Kandars!”
“I was, little Taran,” Koja assured him. “But in accepting the throne of the Arkon of the Horde, I gave up the chiefship of the Kandars. According to Horde traditions, the Arkon must foreswear all Clan allegiances. The Arkon of the Horde must forever be a warrior without a Clan, you see; only then can he rule the entire Horde with justice, and be equally fair and equally strict to all of the Clans which compose the Horde. For he must rule impartially, and without favoritism.”
Kadar cleared his throat. “I suspect,” the lieutenant said, with a wry grin, “that this is more often a goal to be striven for than a rule universally observed.”
“Quite so, I fear,” Koja agreed. “Perhaps I should have said, a good Arkon rules without partiality. And I intend to be a good Arkon.”
“And how did Fanga accept this honor?” I inquired.
“With slack-jawed amazement, at first,” Koja answered, “for he doubtless expected me to exact a cruel revenge upon him for the malicious vote he cast against me. Then with something resembling a dawning joy. I firmly believe that, in time, he will feel true and honest gratitude toward his Arkon and will become one of my most staunch and loyal supporters, for this would be according to cold reason and logic, and these move the Yathoon heart even more powerfully than do jealousy or hatred, which, after all, partake of the emotional side of an intelligent being’s personality.
“And even if I fail in introducing paternal affection and literacy among the Yathoon, and fail in curtailing their bloodthirstiness,” he added after a moment of reflection, “it will stand to my credit that, at least, I taught one of them the meaning of gratitude.”