Edmund Cooper - A Far Sunset

Before the sacrifice there was a ritual meal to be undertaken. It was in the great hall of the phallus where the only source of natural light came from the orifice of a symbolic vagina built into the roof. In the bare walls, however, there were niches; and in the niches were smoky oil lamps.

The palanquin had been set near to the stone phallus. Immediately before the phallus there was a large bowl of kappa and several empty small bowls. The three girl children, silent and immobile, sat cross-legged facing the phallus. Behind them sat three priests, each armed with a short knife. Behind the priests sat the councillors, and behind the councillors sat Poul Mer Lo.

Suddenly, there was a wild, desolate bird cry. Enka Ne strutted into the chamber in such a manner that, for a moment, Poul Mer Lo again found it necessary to remind himself that beneath the plumage and under the bright, darting bird’s head, there was only a boy. The god-king pecked and scratched. Then he gave his desolate bird cry once more and strutted to the bowl of kappa.

He urinated on it and gave another piercing cry. Then he crouched motionless opposite the palanquin. An answering bird cry came from behind the dark curtains.

One of the priests began to put small handfuls of kappa into the little bowls. The two other priests began to hand the bowls round—first to the girl children, who immediately ate their portions with great relish, then to the councillors, and finally to Poul Mer Lo.

Paul Marlowe wanted to be sick, but Poul Mer Lo forced him to eat. The frugal meal was over in a few moments. Then daylight died, and the room was filled with the flickering shadows cast by the oil lamps.

The god-king rose, strutted to the phallus of Oruri and enfolded it with his wings. Then he whirled and pointed to one of the girl children.

‘Come!’

She rose obediently and stepped forward. She turned and leaned back on the phallus, clasping her hands behind it and around it. The god-king suddenly lay at her feet. There was an expression of intense happiness on her face.

One of the priests pressed his arm under her chin, forcing her head back. Another knelt, pressing her stomach so that she was hard against the phallus. The third advanced with knife arm extended and with the other arm ready as if to grasp something.

Enka Ne uttered another bird cry. From the closed palanquin there came an answering bird cry. The knife struck once, then rose and struck again. There was no sound.

The hand plunged into the open chest of the girl and snatched out the still beating heart.

Blood poured from the gaping wound on to the prostrate body of the god-king.

There were two more bird cries—piercing, desolate, triumphant.

Poul Mer Lo fainted.

The expedition, the religious progress, was almost over. So far it had taken eight days and would be completed on the ninth, when the oracle and god-king returned to Baya Nor. The three girl children were now safely in the arms of Oruri. The second had been sacrificed in a manner identical with that of the first at the temple of Baya Ver and the third at the temple of Baya Lys.

Poul Mer Lo had learned not to faint at the spectacle of a living heart being tom from the body of a child. It was, he had been told, at the best rather impolite. At the worst it could be construed as an unfavourable omen.

Now, on the eighth night shortly after the ceremonial death-in-life feast that followed the sacrifice, he lay resdessly on his bed in one of the guest cells of Baya Lys. He was wondering why Enka Ne had invited/commanded his presence on the journey. To accompany the oracle and the god-king on a religious progress was a privilege normally reserved only for those who had distinguished themselves gready in war or worship.

Suddenly he became aware that someone else was in the cell. He sat up quickly and saw by the light of the small oil lamp a half-starved youth in a tattered samu squatting patiently on the floor. There was a covered bundle by his side.

‘Oruri greets you,’ said Shah Shan, rising.

‘The greeting is a blessing,’ answered Poul Mer Lo mechanically.

‘I sorrow if I have disturbed your meditations.’

Poul Mer Lo smiled. ‘My meditations were such that I welcome one who interrupts them.’

Shah Shan indicated the bundle at his feet. ‘My friend, of whom I think you know, bade me bring you some things that

were found in the forest. He was of the opinion that they would have some meaning for you.’ He untied the piece of cloth and displayed the contents of the bundle.

There was one plastic visor, two atomic grenades and a battered transceiver.

Poul Mer Lo was instantly transformed into Paul Marlowe who, gazing at the odd collection, felt a stinging mistiness in his eyes.

‘Who found these things?’ he managed to say at last.

‘The priests of Baya Lys.’

‘They have found nothing else?’

‘Nothing … Except…’ Shah Shan hesitated. ‘My friend told me that it has been reported that a great blackened hole exists in the forest where formerly there was nothing but trees and grass. These objects are certainly very curious. Do they have any significance?’

‘They belonged to those who travelled with me in the silver bird.’ Paul Marlowe picked up one of the atomic grenades. ‘This, for example, is a terrible weapon of destruction. If I were to move these studs in a certain way,’ he indicated two tiny recessed levers, ‘the whole of Baya Lys would be consumed by fire.’

Shah Shan was unperturbed. ‘It is to be hoped,’ he remarked, ‘that, receiving the guidance of Oruri, you will not cause this thing to happen.’

Paul smiled. ‘Be assured that I will not cause it to happen, Shah Shan, for it would encompass my own death also.’

The boy was silent for a while. ‘The domain of Baya Nor is bounded by one day’s march to the north,’ he said at last. ‘Beyond that is land occupied by a barbaric people. It may be that your friends have become the friends of these people … Or they may have been killed, or they may have wandered and died in the forest… How many travelled with you?’

‘There were twelve of us altogether.’

‘And three came to Baya Nor.’

‘Three were taken prisoner by the people of Baya Nor.’

The boy shrugged. ‘It matters not how we describe the event. Nine still remain shrouded by mystery.’

‘These people of the forest—how are they called?’

‘They call themselves the Lokh. We call them Lokhali. They speak a strange tongue.’

‘Is it possible to meet and talk with the Lokhali?’

Shah Shan smiled. ‘Possible, but not advisable. And it is likely that the conversation would be brief. These people live for war.’

‘Perhaps if Enka Ne were to send presents, and ask for news…’

Shah Shan stiffened. ‘Enka Ne does not treat with the Lokhali. So it has always been. So it will always be. Doubtless in the end Oruri will grant them a terrible affliction … Poul Mer Lo, my friend is puzzled. The oracle has pronounced that you are a great teacher and that because of you greatness shall be bestowed upon Baya Nor.’

‘I do not know that I am a great teacher. So far my teaching has been very small.’

‘Then, my lord, you must make it big,’ said Shah Shan simply, ‘for the oracle speaks only the truth … My friend is rich in glory but not rich in time. He wishes to see the fruits of your teaching before he answers the call.’

‘Shah Shan, your friend must not expect too much. The essence of teaching is to learn first and then teach afterwards.’ ‘Permit me to observe, Poul Mer Lo, that the essence of teaching is to be understood … It was many days before you learned to speak Bayani, was it not?’