"The Space Barbarians" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reynolds Mack)

PART TWO KRISHNA

Chapter One

John, raid cacique of the Hawks, drew rein and looked into over the valley below. Don of the Clarks came up beside him, and together they contemplated the town. The rest of the troop remained behind awaiting their leader’s command.

“There it is,” John said. “I do not think it is the same one as before, the Golden Hind.”

“No,” Don said. “This one is perhaps larger. Nor, from what we have heard, is it alone. They have landed at least a dozen places on Caledonia. This time, they have come in more force.”

The spaceship they were discussing sat perhaps half a mile from the walls of Nairn.

John raised a hand in signal and proceeded toward the main gate. He said to Don of the Clarks, “The Nairn Phylum is noted for being quick on the trigger. I hope we can approach sufficiently near to explain our mission, before they decimate us.”

Don shrugged and grinned sourly. “We are all volunteers and knew the chances we take. Off hand, I cannot remember hearing of such a case—the clannsmen of one phylum approaching those of another, between the meetings of the Dail. However, it is not against the bann, and The Keepers of the Faith found the correct procedure in the Holy Books.”

“Let us hope the sachems of Nairn have heard of the procedure,” John said. “Frankly, I feel naked without my claidheammor.”

There were sixteen in all, in the little troop, two from each clann of the Aberdeen Phylum. They were weaponless, save for the short skean each wore at his left side. They held their apprehensions from each other, but all felt as naked as their cacique without their swords and carbines. Each had seen the town of Nairn before, but only on raid.

Why they were not fired upon as they neared the gate, John of the Hawks could not imagine. Perhaps it was the slow speed at which they progressed. Perhaps the warder felt that the nearer he allowed them to approach, the more certain was his eventual fire to be complete in its destruction. Perhaps he even hoped to count coup on some of them, rather than kill them outright.

Perhaps various things, but the fact remained, they were not greeted by a blast of carbine fire. John, in front, finally raised a hand in a universal gesture of peaceful intent.

“Clannsmen of Nairn,” he shouted. “We come in honorable peace and are unarmed.”

The heavy wooden gate was closed, and he couldn’t see whence came the answering shout.

“What do you will, Raid Cacique of the Aberdeen Hawks?”

John was mildly surprised. The answer was in keeping with the procedure found by the Aberdeen Keepers of the Faith in the Holy Books. Evidently, the chiefs of Nairn had also been delving in the old volumes. It was quite unprecedented in the memory of living clannsmen.

John shouted, “We come in peace to investigate the rumors of ones who claim to be holy men from Beyond.”

“They enter in peace the preserves of Nairn.” The voice departed from printed procedure now and added, with a stubborn inflection, “But we shall not allow you within the gates.”

John was inwardly amused. There were only sixteen in his band, and unarmed at that. Aberdeen’s reputation as the producer of raiders must be high in Nairn. While here, John must keep his eyes open, with future raids on the local herds in mind.

A small door, set within the gate, opened, and an older man issued forth. Surprisingly enough, he wore neither claidheammor nor skean and carried no carbine. Behind him came a dozen more of the Nairn clannsmen, and they, at least, held guns at the ready. The eyes of all were suspicious.

The leader said, “I am Willard, Sachem of the Corcorans and eldest of the sachems of Nairn. What do you will? For surely, though the Holy Books provide for your coming in peace, unarmed, it is a rare thing indeed.”

John said correctly, “May the bards sing your exploits, Willard of the Corcorans. I am John of the Hawks, and this is Don, Sagamore of the Clarks.” He didn’t introduce the balance of his troop, who sat their horses in quiet, hiding their nervousness at being thus exposed to armed clannsmen while being weaponless themselves.

Willard of the Corcorans nodded and returned formally, “May the bards sing your praises, Clannsmen of Aberdeen. And what do you will?”

John said, “Ten years ago and more, a craft from Beyond landed on the preserves of Aberdeen, and the occupants were granted the traditional three days of hospitality as travelers. But the strangers were clannless men and knew nothing of our ways. Often, they even violated the bann. They claimed to be explorers from a great confederation of worlds from Beyond, which they called the League. They claimed that they wished Caledonia to join this great League, but they were shameless men, and we were pleased to see them leave in their great ship of space;”

The Nairn Sachem was nodding.

John went on. “And now the rumor spreads throughout the land that the men from Beyond have come again, this time in many ships of space. In but a few days, the meeting of the Loch Dail will take place and all the phyla either in assembly. I, and my troop, have been sent to inquire into the meaning of this new coming, for the rumors are that these clannless ones from Beyond claim to be holy men, and thus the bann is against attacking them in honorable raid. So we have come to confront these from Beyond and hear their tale and then report to the Dail of the Loch confederation.”

The other was nodding again. “It is true, John of the Hawks. And there is great confusion in Nairn, even amongst the bedels and Keepers of the Faith. The newcomers teach a new religion, that of the Avatara of Kalkin, and claim it has swept all other faiths before it, throughout all the worlds settled by humankind.”

John was scowling down at the older man. “Confusion?” he said. “How can there be confusion? Surely, the Keepers of the Faith have stated that the preaching of this new religion is against the bann.”

Willard of the Corcorans said slowly, “Yes. But that was before the coming of the black pox.”

“The black pox!” Don of the Clarks blurted.

There was a stirring in the ranks of John’s clannsmen. It was not deemed safe to be within a quarter mile of a town struck by the pox.

Willard was nodding. “A clannless one evidently brought it from afar. He came to the gates of Nairn, steedless, hungry and in rags, and applied to the Sachem of the Stuarts for position as servant, and, in pity, the sachem took him in. Only later did we find him to be the sole survivor of the far Phylum of Ayr. In justice to him, he knew not that he carried the pox, since he, himself, was seemingly immune to it. Too late was he cut down by the Stuart clannsmen. The black pox was upon us.”

John’s face was drawn.

He turned and snapped to his men, “Ride hard for the hill. I will remain and secure the balance of the information and later shout it to you from a distance, so that you may return to Aberdeen and repeat it to the Dail. But now, get out of here.”

The fourteen clannsmen wheeled their horses.

Don said, “How about you?”

“I will stay. We must have the information. You go. Take over the troop.”

“No. I will remain and share your fate.”

But Willard of the Corcorans was holding up a hand. “There is no need to depart. There is no danger.”

John stared at him. “No danger in the black pox!”

“No more. The guru cured all.”

John’s men had come to a puzzled halt.

Don of the Clarks said, “Who, in the name of the Holy, is the guru, and what do you mean, he cured all? There is no cure for the black pox. Not even the bedels can cure the pox.”

“In the name of the new religion, the guru from the Revelation, the ship from Beyond, cured the black pox by invoking Lord Krishna.” Willard of the Corcorans had defiance in his expression, as though challenging them to refute him. “The proof is here before you.”

He added, “Since then, many of Nairn have taken the soma and entered into the Shrine of Kalkin.”

“Soma?” John said. “What is soma?”

The Nairn Sachem scowled. “I am not sure. I am poorly informed, but tomorrow I myself plan to take it and enter into oneness with Krishna.”

For a long moment John of the Hawks stared down at him. Finally, he said, “May the bards sing your exploits, Willard, Sachem of the Corcorans.” He whirled his horse and snapped to Don of the Clarks, “Let us go to the ship and confront these so-called holy men from Beyond.”

As long years before, when John had approached the exploratory spaceship the Golden Hind, this vessel appeared to prow as they approached. When finally it loomed above them, it seemed in volume at least that of five or six long-houses. Behind him, he could sense the stirring in the ranks of his troop, most of whom had not seen the Golden Hind when it had visited Aberdeen. Made all of shining metal, it was mindshaking to think that this vessel from Beyond could lift itself and travel to the stars and back.

John of the Hawks came to a halt and stared upward. There was a ramp that led to an open entry port.

He had nearly decided to dismount and ascend, when a figure appeared and started down toward them. The first men from Beyond John had met had all been in a strange colorless uniform, rather than wearing the kilts of their respective clanns; indeed, they had confessed to having no clanns. But this solitary otherworldling was attired all in black, as a bedel might dress on Holy days devoted to praise.

When he had reached the ground, he looked up and said, “Welcome to the Revelation, John of the Hawks.”

John looked at him emptily. “You are unarmed, Mister of the Harmons, as am I. But perhaps you forget that I carry the bloodfeud with you.”

The other, a man of approximately John’s own years, twisted his mouth in sour amusement. He held his hands out to either side. “I am always unarmed, John of the Hawks. You see, I have entered the Shrine of Kalkin as an acolyte.”

“You mean you are a bedel?”

“Not exactly.”

“You are one of the supposed holy men who spread a new religion other than that taught by the Keepers of the Faith?”

The other nodded. “That is correct. I am now skipper of the Revelation. All members of the crew also follow the footsteps of Krishna. None are armed.”

Don of the Clarks said, “And so are protected by the bann.” He grunted. “I suspect you cozen us, Skipper of the Harmons.”

Harmon looked at him in amusement. “They’re your customs and taboos, not mine. I, and the others of the Revelation, have come with the message of Krishna and to bring you to the Shrine of Kalkin.”

John looked at him for a long moment more before saying, “Very well. We have been sent to secure information of this new faith and of your purpose here on Caledonia. Tell us more of… of Krishna and your so-called shrine.”

Harmon raised his eyebrows, and there was a mocking quality in his eyes. “But I am only an acolyte and not fit to spread the word.

— Don of the Claries scowled. “You talk in circles, man from Beyond.”

But a new figure had come to the entry port and now slowly began the descent of the ramp. He was an older man, bald of head and with a great calm dignity in his every motion. He wore a robe of orange, an unprecedented dress as far as John and the other clannsmen were concerned, and there were sandals upon his feet.

When he had reached their level, Harmon made a respectful obeisance to him, then turned to the Caledonians and said, “This is Mark, Guru of the Shrine of Kalkin, our leader and teacher.”

John nodded courteously. “I am John of the Hawks,” he said. “I assume you are a bedel who teaches this new faith that is against the bann.”

“There is only one bann, my son. ‘Thou shall not harm.’ This Lord Krishna has revealed to us.”

Don snorted, “There are many banns, and obviously there have always been many banns and will continue to be. Otherwise… why, otherwise, there would soon be no living clannsmen on all Caledonia.”

“No more, my son. And when you have taken your soma and have entered into the Shrine of Kalkin and are one with Lord Krishna, then you, too, will harm no more.”

“What is this soma?” John demanded.

The guru said gently, “Many millennia ago, my son, the Lord Vishnu, in his first avatara as Lord Matsya, gave to man the blessing of soma. But man was then incapable of following the way of Krishna, and soma was lost through the centuries. But with the final avatara of Lord Vishnu, that of Kalian, soma was again found by a great guru who deciphered the ancient writings of Mohenjo-Daro, in the Indus valley of Mother Earth.”

“’What does avatara mean?” Don said.

The older man looked at him. “Reincarnation, my son.”

“Who is this Krishna you keep talking about?” John demanded.

The gentle eyes came back to the raid cacique. “The Lord Krishna is the eighth avatara of Vishnu, my son, and our redeemer. It is he that united us all into one in the glory of the Shrine of Kalkin with the holy soma.”

John of the Hawks grimaced in impatience. “Do you mean, before you can understand this new faith, you must take this thing you call soma?”

“Yes, my son.”

“And you have taken it?”

“Yes, my son.”

“I am not your son,” John said impatiently. “We are not even kyn. Have all the people from Beyond taken your soma?”

“No, my son. Not all.” The guru looked at Harmon and frowned slightly. “Not even many of those who follow the path of Krishna.”

Harmon said, “I have yet to feel myself worthy to unite with the Lord Krishna.”

John looked at the Revelation’s skipper. “So you haven’t taken it but recommend that we do.”

Harmon said evenly, “One day I shall, when I feel myself worthy.”

John grunted and looked back at the older man. “Then, what happens after you take soma?”

“Yon become one with Krishna, our redeemer, and follow his teaching the rest of your years until the end of mortal life comes and you are gathered into the bosom of Kalkin.”

“What teaching?”

“Thou shalt do not harm.”

Don snorted.

John said, “Look, Guru of the Marks, it is impossible to go through life without harming someone.”

“Not just someone, my son. Any living thing.”

The Caledonians were staring at him.

“Any living thing ? How can you eat a steak of beef without harming the steer?” one of the clannsmen blurted.

“You cannot, my son. Followers of the path of Lord Krishna eat only of the vegetables of the fields and the fruit of the trees.”

John said, “Look, Guru of the Marks, do you claim that if one takes this soma, he will go through the rest of his life unable to harm any other?”

“He would not wish to harm any other, my son. Once he has taken his soma, he walks in the same path as the Lord Krishna.”

John stared at the older man even as he thought it out. “I don’t believe you,” he said finally.

“You will when, at long last, you have taken your soma, my son.”

John continued to stare at him in frustration. Finally he wheeled his horse and barked, “I want a volunteer.”

Fifteen hands went up.

He ignored them for the moment. “It is of great implication to our whole confederation. It will mean perhaps death, though probably not. It will possibly result in the volunteer being branded a slink and stripped of his clann kilts. You have heard this so-called guru. I want a man to take soma and report his experience. I would do it myself, but I am the leader of this troop and responsible to the Dail for the expedition’s report.”

The hands of the clannsmen remained up, but there was despair in all faces.

John looked them over. He called finally, “Robert of the Fieldings.” The clannsman rode forth, holding his reins in his awkward left hand. Other than his crippled arm and scarred face, he was a beautiful specimen of Caledonian manhood, well over seven feet in stature and carrying sufficient weight to be considered brawny. John had chosen deliberately. Robert had no immediate family—a raiding party had set fire to his hut on the heath where the then herdsman had built outside the Aberdeen walls. His wife and three children had burned, and since then Robert had spent his life on raid, never failing to volunteer for each expedition but thus far having been unable to find honorable death in combat.

John wheeled back to Mark, the guru. “This man will take your soma.”

The older man said, “Each must himself decide, my son.”

John looked at Robert of the Fieldings.

The clannsman said, “I wish to take this soma.” But their were blisters of cold sweat on his broad forehead.

The guru frowned in hesitation.

Harmon said, “Let the dully take it. Why not? Our task is to spread the message of Krishna. He’ll be the first convert in Aberdeen.”

“Very well. Follow me, son Robert.”

John said, “A moment. How long will this take?”

“He will return to you at this hour tomorrow, my son.”

The orange clad guru turned and began to reascend the ramp. Robert hesitated only momentarily before following. Harmon, a faint amusement on his face, brought up the rear. And now John could see two other orange robed figures at the entry to the Revelation. Evidently, this Mark was not the sole guru about the spaceship.

For a moment, John of the Hawks was about to call to Robert of the Fieldings, to recall him to the ranks of his fellow Aberdeen clannsmen. But then he shook his head. They could not return to the assembly of the Dail without full information on this precedent smashing situation.

He turned and said to Don, “We’ll make camp here.”

Don scowled toward Nairn.

John said, “No. They will not raid us. I suspect that many of them have taken this soma. Perhaps there are not enough true clannsmen remaining in the whole phylum to raid us.”

The following day, the small troop drew up again before the ramp of the Revelation, waiting. The entry port was still open, but there was no sign of life.

Don growled, “If we had our weapons, we could raid them. Undoubtedly, there would be much booty inside.”

“Undoubtedly,” John said. “However, it is a difficult position. They are unarmed men who claim to be teachers of religion, and I suspect it would be against the bann to attack them, or even to count coup upon them.”

Don snorted his disgust. “Religion! There is only one religion, and that is the religion of the Holy. Any Keeper of the Faith can tell you that.”

John didn’t answer his friend. There were many ramifications to all this, and he had by no means thought them out to a conclusion that satisfied him.

The troops stirred. Harmon, the self-proclaimed skipper of the spaceship, had appeared at the top of the ramp. Following him was Robert of the Fieldings.

They descended the ramp, and Harmon stood to one side, his expression amused. Robert of the Clann Fielding approached them and stood before John and the others.

And then John of the Hawks lost his characteristic dignity. His eyes bugged, and he rasped, “Where… where is the scar that ran from your ear to your chin?”

There was a strangeness in the face of Robert. It would seem the dour clannsman had lightened several degrees in complexion. There was a glow about his face, a shine in his eyes. He lifted his left arm and touched the side of his face, and all gaped anew.

Don blurted, “Your arm !”

Robert said in an unwonted soft voice, “I have been walking with the Lord Krishna and hence have been cured of all ills.”