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A basic rule of makeup is that it's unnecessary to change much of a person's features for him to be
unrecognizable. And Mantis knew those rules very well indeed. So Sten shaved his head and put a rather
unsightly blotch on one cheek. Alex grew a walrus moustache and trimmed his hair into a monkish half
tonsure.
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The plot of the play was idiot-simple. Bet played an orphaned village girl whose virtue was threatened
by a corrupt village official (Alex, with a long beard and a battered non-accent), in cahoots with a
somewhat evil churchman of the late and not-much-lamented regime of Theodomir. The official was
played by Ida in drag.
Bet's only hope was her handsome lover, who had left the village to join the crusade of Mathias and his
Companions against the evil Jann. By then official doctrine wasn't admitting that the mercs had done
anything but sit on their duffs, pinch chaste women, and swill alk.
The lover would never be seen, which was a relief since the casting potential was running a little slender.
About twenty minutes in, after appropriate menacings by
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the official and the churchman, the girl, sobbed and caterwauled and sank in prayer to Talamein. And the
Voice of Talamein- Ida again-spoke from offstage and told her to flee into the forest.
There she was menaced by hungry tigers and saved by a shipwrecked mendicant Bhor, played by
Otho-who roared when told that he would have to make nice noises about what he considered to be a
ridiculous faith, and then roared louder when told that he also had lines suggesting that all the Bhor felt the
same about Talamein.
Then the Bhor mendicant led the girl to the shelter of two clownish woodsmen, Sten and Alex.
Somehow, through a plot twist Doc could never figure out but one which didn't bother the audience at
all, the tigers turned into friendly tigers and did amusing stunts to keep the lonely girl laughing between
chanted hymns while the woodsmen were out being woodsy.
She was threatened by an evil fortuneteller (Ida again), and only saved by a mysterious cute-and-cuddly
furry creature (Doc, despite his howled protests).
More chanting, more prayers, and then the Voice of Talamein spoke again, saying that the evil official
and prayerman were coining into the forest with their private army (Sten and Alex. playing peasants
drafted as soldiers).
The army killed the woodsmen (very deft rolling from the wagon's stage into the curtained-off backstage
and slapped-on steel helms for Sten and Alex), leaving the girl doomed to submit to the embraces of the
official.
But then, once again Talamein spoke, the tigers and Otho roared onstage, ate the villains, the soldiers
recanted their ways, then, in a blinding finale, word came of the success of Mathias' Crusade against the
Jann. Unfortunately. Bet's lover had been killed, doing something unspeakably heroic. But the Faith of
Talamein was triumphant. Amid chanted praise, clown rolls by Sten and Alex, prancing tigers, the play
came to a close, and exeunt omnes amid applause.
Then, of course. Sten and Alex would move among the crowd doing simple magic gags, clown stunts for
the kids. Bet would stroll with her tigers, and Ida would set up the fortune-telling booth while Doc
barkered.
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And it went over in every village, from the opening performance in the fishing town through the fanning
villages even to a couple of command performances before rural clergy.
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Not that it had to be that great to succeed, when the only "entertainment" available to the villagers was
the drone of the Talamein broadcast in the village square screens, church worship, and getting as drunk
as possible on turnip wine.
Slowly the troupe moved closer to Sanctus' capital.
"We're two kilometers from Sanctus' gates," Ida announced from inside the cart.
Sten nodded politely at a glowering guard team of Companions as they passed in their gravsled, then
tapped the reins on the hauling beasts' backs. They grudgingly moved from a stagger into a slow walk.
"An" noo," Alex said, "w'be't goint into tha' tiger's maw."
"Hugin and Munin's maw's back on Prime World," Bet added from her position, sitting just behind Alex
and Sten, who were on the cart driver's bench.
"Sharrup, lass," Alex replied. "Ah'm dooncast. Ah fearit this scheme wi' nae workit oot f'r th' benefits of
Kilgours."
"You're probably right," Sten agreed. "We're doomed. And doomed without hearing the last of Red
Rory."
"Red Rory, aye?" And Aiex brightened. "W'noo. Wh'n last w'sawit Red Rory, an entire Brit comp'ny
wae chargint up thae hill, a'ter his head, aye?"
Sten nodded wearily. The things he did to keep morale up.
"So tha' screekit, an' scrawit, an' hollerint, and ae kinds ae goin' on, an' then heads come doon thae hill,
bumpit, bump-it, bumpit.
"Anh't' thae Brit gin'ral's consid'r'ble astonishment, here's his wholit comp'ny, lyin' dead in thae dust.
"But b'fore he hae a chance to consider, yon giant on tha hillcrest screekit again:
"'Ah'm Red Rory ae th' Glen! Send up y' entire rig'mint!'
"An the gin'ral turnit sa red hi' adj'tant fearit he gae apoplexy. An' he holler, 'Adj'tant!'
'"Send up tha' wholit blawdy reg'mint! AH WAN' THA' MON'S HEAD!'
"An' tha' whole reg'mint fixit thae bay'nits an' thae chargit up thae hill. An' thae's screamint, an' screekit.
an' shoutint, an' carryint on. for aye half ae day.
"An' thae's dust, an' thae's shots, an' thae's aye battle.
"An' th' gin'ral's watchint frae doon below.
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"Ah sudden, thro' thae dust, he see't his adj'tant comit runnin doon thae hill.
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"An' tae adj'tant screemit. 'Run, sah! Run! It's ae ambush! Thae's two ae 'em.'"
Very complete silence for many minutes.
Finally Sten turned to Alex, incredulous. "You mean, that's the story I've been waiting for, for the last
year?"
"Aye," Alex said. "Dinnae it b'wonderful?"
Even more and longer silence ...
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
MATHIAS WATCHED AS they led another of Ffillips' meres into the chamber. The man was naked
and sweating heavily under the bright, revolving interrolights. His body was covered with bruises and cuts
from many days of beatings. The soldier was exhausted; his eyes were rolling in fear.
Mathias nodded at the chief interrogator, and the man was muscled into a chair and strapped down.
Coldly and efficiently, an interrogrator's aide snapped electrical leads to the prisoner's body.
The Prophet stepped forward, looming over the man. Then spoke gently. "Son, don't let this go on. It
grieves me to see a poor sinner submit to such an ordeal. End it for yourself. I beg you in the name of our
gentle Father, Talamein."
He leaned closer to the man.
"A simple confession of your sins and the sins of your leaders is all we require... Now, will you confess?
Please, son."
Weakly the soldier shook his head, no.
Mathias nodded for the inquisitor to start. And the first screams ripped from the soldier's body.
An hour later Mathias walked from the chamber, a tight little smile of satisfaction on his lips.
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From a crystal decanter, Mathias poured himself a goblet of pure, cold water. Its source was one of the
clear mountain springs that he had recently declared holy.
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It was night on Sanctus, and Mathias was alone in his spartan chamber. Outside the room he could hear
the faint sounds of the pacing guards. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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