Star of Gypsies
- Автор: Силверберг Роберт
- Язык: английский
- Жанр: Научная фантастика
Электронная книга - «Star of Gypsies». Краткое содержание книги:
I have concealed this ever since I found it out. But why hide it any longer? Is there shame in it? The Fifteenth was right that I would be a good king. Cesaro o Nano was right to have followed his advice. What of it, that the advice came from a Gaje? From the highest Gajo of them all? Was Cesaro o Nano the less for listening to him? Was I the less for having been recommended by an emperor? During the thousands of years since our two peoples first were thrust together by fate we have feared and mistrusted the Gaje, for good reasons, and they have feared and mistrusted us, for reasons that seem to me not so good. But perhaps some of that fear and mistrust was needless, on both sides. And now it no longer seems important for me to conceal the Fifteenth's role in making me king. In truth, considering the great changes that many recent events have wrought, I think it is a good thing to let the story be told.
How odd, you may say, that the Fifteenth was so concerned about the Rom succession, and failed to provide for his own! But he chose me as king long ago when he was still in the vigor of his middle years. His own decline must have come upon him more suddenly than anyone knew, and the effect on him must have been far more calamitous than we suspected. For I knew the Fifteenth well, and I don't think he would willingly have left the imperial succession open as he did. His wits must have gone from him before he could make provision for the succession, for surely he wouldn't have wanted to depart as he did, leaving Sunteil and Naria and Periandros to battle for the throne.
Or perhaps-knowing him as well as I did-I shouldn't say that. Perhaps-considering the events that have followed his death-the Fifteenth knew exactly what he was doing, when he neglected to provide the usual decree of succession. He was a remarkable man. He saw things with extraordinary clarity. Perhaps he was looking beyond his death and the chaos that would follow it, into the deeper future, when all would be quite different. I would like to ask him what he really had in mind. Of course he is gone now. But perhaps one day I will have the chance to ask him all the same.
I THOUGHT A GREAT DEAL ABOUT SHANDOR, TOO, AS I wandered like my own ghost through the halls of the royal house of power.
There were signs of struggle everywhere. Someone had made an attempt to clean up, but I saw gouges in the thick leather wallcoverings, burn-scars on the floors, even what may have been bloodstains. And yet Shandor had managed to escape. He had even, so it seemed, taken some ceremonial objects with him, ancient emblems and regalia. I saw the empty places. The invading force must have deliberately allowed him to get away, I thought. As a kindness to me. Because he was, after all, my son. Surrounded and taken by surprise as he had been, Shandor would never have been able to fight his way out. Especially when he was encumbered by the ceremonial objects. They must have winked and looked the other way, for my sake.
Oh, was I wrong about that!
I have to admit that I felt strangely tender toward Shandor, even loving, now that he was gone and I was free again. I know it sounds peculiar. Considering Shandor's unloving and unlovable nature. But after all he was my son. And his attempt to seize the kingship had failed: he was a fugitive, he was on the run. I had nothing more to fear from him, did I? So I could allow my buried love for him to surface. And my pity. If you can't make sense of this, don't try. You'll understand some day.
I found myself thinking I could reclaim Shandor somehow. Sit down with him in the traditional way, pour coffee for him, pour wine, discuss the differences that had arisen between us. Work them out, get rid of them, embrace him in a hot Romany hug of love and kinship. As though he were simply a boy of twenty who had gone a little astray, and not a reckless and evil old man who had chosen the path of wickedness all his long life. Yes, I would reclaim him! Win him back to be my true son! Take him into my government, even. So I thought. My fantasy, my folly. I was entitled. I am not required to be ruled by common sense one hundred six percent of the time. He was my son, after all. After all.
And then, Periandros. What to do about Periandros?
Deny him? Tell Julien I could not possibly accept him as emperor, and send word to Sunteil, or maybe even Naria, that I was giving my support to him?
Why? Simply because I disliked him? Did I like Naria better? Sunteil, perhaps, I did like; but did I trust him? What were the ambitions of these quarrelsome Gaje princelings to me? Why thrust myself into their civil war? I was king again; and if I had Periandros to thank for that, so be it. I owed him nothing but thanks. Now I must restore my command of the kingdom; and then there would be time to see how the struggle among the high lords resolved itself. Meanwhile Periandros held the Capital. Therefore Periandros was emperor. If Sunteil or Naria disagreed, let him change things: that wasn't my affair. As king I needed an emperor with whom to deal. For the moment, Periandros was emperor. For the moment, then, I would take him to be the legitimate holder of the Gaje throne.
I sent for Julien.
"While I was Shandor's prisoner," I said, "he told me that he had been to the Capital and that he had received the wand of recognition. From the emperor, by the emperor's own hand. Do you know anything about that? Could he have been telling the truth?"
"Do you think he was, mon vieux?"
"He said Sunteil and Naria and Periandros were right there, but the emperor himself held the wand."
"The old emperor was lost in dreams all the time of Shandor's reign," said Julien.
"So I thought."
"It was Naria who held the wand." "Naria?"
"There was a great dispute among the lords. Throughout it the Lord Periandros spoke out for you, Yakoub. He regarded Shandor always as an interloper with no rightful claim. Sunteil wavered, now supporting Shandor, then you, then saying it was none of the Imperium's business who the Rom chose to be their king. Naria argued for immediate recognition of Shandor. He has always mistrusted you, do you know that? Because you were born on the same world as he, and you a slave and he a noble. He thinks you hate him for that, that in some way you blame him for your slavery."
"I am not fond of Naria," I said indifferently. "Perhaps his theory has some basis to it."
"He told the others that Shandor would be the Rom king no matter what the Imperium said; and that therefore it was good politics to give him confirmation. The Lord Periandros and eventually Sunteil would not have it. Then one day when it was Naria's turn to hold the orb of regency he simply summoned Shandor to the Capital and laid the wand upon him. Fait accompli, you see."
"And did the other two accept what Naria had done?"
Julien waved his hand at the dark scar of an imploder burn on the wall. "There you can see how impressed the Lord Periandros was with Naria's recognition of Shandor. As for Sunteil, he has kept his own counsel on the matter. As Sunteil usually does. Now that Shandor is overthrown he probably will claim he favored you all along."
"Yes," I said. "That sounds like Sunteil."
"And now, mon ami? What will you do, now that Shandor is overthrown?"
"Go to the Capital," I said. "Speak with Periandros." "With the Sixteenth, as we must call him now."
I gave Julien a long, steady, cool look. This time he returned it, just as steady, just as cool. My ancient friend, my GaJe cousin. Who had been a part of my life longer than anyone now living, other than Polarca. Whom I had known for a hundred years. What was he trying to do now? Was it not enough that I had agreed to meet Periandros, to deal with him as though he were truly the emperor? Did Julien have to force him all the way down my throat?
Then I thought: It costs me nothing to allow Periandros his title, for as long as he is able to hold it. And it seems important to Julien to give him that little honor. Very well.