A Far Sunset

THIRTY-EIGHT

Afterwards he had rested for a while in an apartment in the Temple of the Weeping Sun, guarded only by a single warrior. The ceremonial plumage had been removed, and the god-king now wore a simple samu, indistinguishable from those worn by thousands of his subjects.

The apartment—whose walls and floor and roof were of highly polished stone, veined, like a rich marble, with streaks of blue and red and green and gold—was not luxuriously furnished. But, compared to the simple furnishings of a thatched house that had stood once near to the Canal of Life, these furnishings were indeed those of a palace.

The foot and head of the couch on which he had rested were of black wood inlaid with copper. The mattress consisted of multi-coloured Milanyl feathers held in a fine net of hair. Large translucent crystals hung from the ceiling, rotating slowly in the slight currents of air, transforming the lamplight emanating from several niches into a soft and mobile pattern.

The god-king yawned and stretched, looking about him for a moment or two. He was hungry. But there were more important matters than food.

He sent for Yurui Sa, general of the Order of the Blind Ones. The man in the white hood.

The warrior on guard heard the instructions of the god-king without either looking at him or making any verbal acknowledgement.

Presendy, Yurui Sa entered the room. He stood stiffly, waiting. His gaze, like that of the warrior, remained fixed upon the ceiling.

‘Oruri greets you, Yurui Sa.’

‘Lord, the greeting is a blessing.’

‘Sit down and be with me as with a friend, for there is much that I have to say to you.’

‘Lord,’ said the man pleadingly, ‘be merciful … I—I may not see you! ’

‘This, surely, needs explanation.’

‘So it has always been,’ went on Yurui Sa, ‘so it must always be. When the plumage has been put aside, the god-king may not be seen by men.’

‘So, perhaps, it has always been. But nothing endures for ever. When the plumage has been put aside, the god sleeps but the king still wakes. You may look upon the king, Yurui Sa. I have spoken.’

‘Lord, I am not worthy.’

‘Nevertheless ’ and the voice was regal, the voice of

Enka Ne ‘—nevertheless, it is my wish.’

Slowly, Yurui Sa brought his gaze down from the ceiling. Enka Ne smiled at him, but there was fear on the face of the general of the Order of the Blind Ones.

‘There will be some changes,’ said Enka Ne.

Yurui Sa let out a great sigh. ‘Yes, lord, there will be some changes.’

‘Now sit with me and tell me how it came to pass that one who was once Poul Mer Lo is now the god-king of the Bayani, though the time is not yet ripe for rebirth.’

Yurui Sa swallowed uneasily. Then he sat down on the edge of the couch as if he expected the action to bring some terrible disaster.

Apparently, it did not. Thus heartened, he began to explain to Paul Marlowe, native of Earth, how it came about that he was destined to achieve god-head on Altair Five.

‘Lord,’ said Yurui Sa, ‘much that is wonderful has happened, making the will of Oruri clear beyond question … Many days ago, it became known to one who now has no name that the stranger, Poul Mer Lo, intended to make a great journey. The knowledge was not received favourably. Therefore many warriors were despatched to end the journey before it had begun.’ Yurui Sa permitted himself a faint smile. ‘My lord may himself have some awareness of what happened on that occasion. The warriors failed to fulfil their task—and such warriors do not often fail in their duty. Their captain returned and, before despatching himself to the bosom of Oruri, repeated the message given to him by Poul Mer Lo. That same day, one who now has no name suffered much pain in his chest, coughing greatly, and for a time being unable to speak. Thus was seen the first judgement of Oruri on one who perhaps had misinterpreted his will.’

‘You say he coughed greatly?’

‘Yes, lord. There were many tears.’

Paul’s mind went back to the occasion of his only audience with Enka Ne the 610th. He remembered an old man—an old man weighed down with care and responsibility. An old man who coughed…

‘Proceed with your story.’

‘Lord, even then there were those in the sacred city who were afflicted by strange thoughts. Some there were—myself among them—who meditated at length upon what had passed. Later, when warriors were sent to destroy the house of Poul Mer Lo, our meditations yielded enlightenment. Also, there was an unmistakable sign of the will of Oruri.’

‘What was this sign?’

‘Lord, as the house burned, he who has no name was seized by much coughing. As the flames died, so died he who has no name. Thus was seen the second judgement of Oruri… Then the oracle spoke, saying that fire would awaken from the ashes … And so, lord, were you revealed to your people.’

Paul Marlowe, formerly known as Poul Mer Lo, now Enka Ne the 611th, was silent for a few moments. He felt weary still—unutterably weary. So much had happened that he could not hope to assimilate—at least, not yet. He smiled grimly to himself. But there would be time. Indeed, there would be time…

And then, suddenly, he remembered about Shon Hu and the barge.

‘When Poul Mer Lo came from the forest, he left certain companions waiting in a barge on the Canal of Life. I desire that these people—and a child who has by now reached them—be brought to Baya Nor unharmed.’

‘Lord, forgive me. This thing is already done. Warriors were instructed to watch for the coming of Poul Mer Lo. They have found the barge, its occupants and the boy who was despatched to meet them.’

‘None have been harmed?’

‘Lord, they have been questioned, but none was harmed.’

‘It is well. Yurui Sa, for these are humble people, yet they have a friend who is highly placed.’

The general of the Order of the Blind Ones fidgeted uncomfortably. ‘Lord, the hunter, Shon Hu, has said that Poul Mer Lo has held converse with Oruri, also that he has looked upon the form … Forgive me, lord, but can this be so?’

‘It is no more than the truth.’

‘Then is my heart filled with much glory, for I have spoken with a great one who has himself spoken with one yet greater … Permit me to withdraw, lord, that I may dwell upon these wonders.’

‘Yurui Sa, the wish is granted. Now send to me these people who journeyed with Poul Mer Lo. Send also much food, for these, my guests, will be hungry … And remember. There will be some changes.’

The general of the Order of the Blind Ones stood up. Again he sighed deeply. ‘These things shall be done. And, lord, I will remember that there will be some changes.’'

Enka Ne leaned back upon the couch.

The warrior guarding him continued to stare fixedly at the ceiling.