Helliconia Summer - Brian W. Aldiss [243]
The king thought. ‘You give me a scientific answer, just as SartoriIrvrash did. There must also be a religious answer to my question.’
CaraBansity chewed his knuckle. ‘What does the Holy Pannovalan Empire say on the subject of Freyr? For Akha’s sake, it dreads any manifestation in the sky, and therefore uses the comet only to increase the fear of the people. It declares one more holy drumble to eliminate the phagors from our midst. The Church’s argument is that if those creatures without souls are eliminated, the climate will immediately cool. Yet we are given to understand that, in the years of ice, the Church then claimed it was the ungodly phagors which brought the cold. So their thinking lacks logic – like all religious thinking.’
‘Don’t vex me. I am the Church in Borlien.’
‘Majesty, apologies. I merely speak true. If it offends you, send me away, as you sent SartoriIrvrash away.’
‘That fellow you mention was all for wiping out the ancipitals.’
‘Sire, so am I, though I depend on them myself. If I may again speak truth, your favouring of them alarms me. But I would not kill them for some silly religious reason. I would kill them because they are the traditional enemy of mankind.’
The Eagle of Borlien banged his hand down on the arm of his chair. The chancellor-on-trial jumped.
‘I’ll hear no more. You argue out of place, you impertinent hrattock!’
CaraBansity bowed. ‘Very well, sire. Power makes men deaf and they will not hear. It was you, not I, sire, who called yourself ignorant. Because you can threaten with a look, you cannot learn. That is your misfortune.’
The king stood. The chancellor-on-trial shrank away. CaraBansity stood immobile, his face a patchy white. He knew he had gone too far.
But JandolAnganol pointed at the cringing chancellor.
‘I tire of people who cower before me, like this man. Advise me as my advisor cannot and you shall be chancellor – no doubt to prove as vexing as your friend and predecessor.
‘When I remarry, and take for wife the daughter of King Sayren Stund of Oldorando, this kingdom will be linked more firmly to the Holy Pannovalan Empire, and from that we shall derive strength. But I shall come under much pressure from the C’Sarr to obliterate the ancipital race, as is being done in Pannoval. Borlien is short of soldiers and needs phagors. Can I refute the C’Sarr’s edict through your science?’
‘Hm.’ CaraBansity pulled at a heavy cheek. ‘Pannoval and Oldorando have always hated fuggies as Borlien never did. We are not on ancipital migratory routes, as is Oldorando. The priests have found a new pretext to wage an old war …
‘There is a scientific line you might take, sire. Science that would banish the Church’s ignorance, if you’ll forgive me.’
‘Speak, then, and my pretty runt and I will listen.’
‘Sire, you will understand. Your runt will not. You must know by repute the historical treatise entitled The Testament of RayniLayan. In that volume, we read of a saintly lady, VryDen, wife of the sage RayniLayan. VryDen unravelled some of the secrets of the heavens where, she believed, as I do, that truth, not evil, lives. VryDen perished in the great fire which consumed Oldorando in the year 26. That is three hundred and fifty-five years ago – fifteen generations, though we live longer than they did in those times. I am convinced that VryDen was a real person – not an invention of an Ice Age tale, as the Holy Church would have us believe.’
‘What’s your point?’ asked the king. He began to pace sharply about, and Yuli skipped after him. He remembered that his queen set great store by the book of RayniLayan, and