John Norman - The Usurper

“Now, gentlemen,” said Iaachus, “I propose a second toast, one to this day, a day which is public and a day which is secret, a day which is visible and a day which is invisible.”

This toast, too, was drunk.

The guests then seated themselves about the table.

They ate little, they spoke little.

“I fear,” said Iaachus, “our repast is insufficiently festive, even with slaves about.”

“There is a time for the doings of men,” said Otto. “There is another time for the grasping and handling of females.”

From time to time, Rurik put a bit of food into Cornhair’s lifted mouth.

“Listen!” said Iaachus, raising his hand.

“I hear it,” said Otto, pushing back his goblet of kana .

“The bells,” said Julian.

“I hear, far off, the shouting, the cries of gladness,” said Tuvo Ausonius.

“The ceremony is done,” said Iaachus. “The guests, the brides and grooms, will be issuing from the temple.”

Otto, Julian, Rurik, and Tuvo Ausonius, with the Arbiter of Protocol, rose to their feet, and regarded one another.

“It is not too late to disengage,” said Iaachus.

There was silence.

“I take it,” said Iaachus, Arbiter of Protocol, “we are resolved.”

“Yes,” said Otto.

“Yes,” said Julian.

“Agreed,” said Rurik.

“Yes,” said Tuvo Ausonius.

“I shall order the signal given,” said Iaachus.

“Few are likely to notice the unfurling of another banner, amongst the many celebratory banners adorning the palace walls,” said Tuvo Ausonius.

“Some will notice,” said Otto.

Bells were pealing throughout the city.

“The sounds of the crowd, the cheering, grows louder,” said Rurik.

“Street by street,” said Tuvo Ausonius, “the procession, the wedding party, the carriages, grow ever nearer.”

“Perhaps they will be surprised, when they are turned back, at the palace steps,” said Julian.

“I think, my dear Ottonius,” said Iaachus, the Arbiter of Protocol, “it is time for us to go to the throne room.”

“And I think it fitting, friend Ottonius,” said Julian, “if you should lead the way.”

“Will this act save the empire, or destroy it?” asked Tuvo Ausonius.

“We do not know,” said Iaachus.

Rurik turned back to the table, and snapped his fingers, and gestured to his side. Cornhair then emerged from beneath the table, and hurried after the men.

In the throne room, Otto took his place on the throne.

It is interesting, and flattering, that an author is commonly given the credit for one book or another. As an author, I suppose I should welcome this practice, but, as an author who tries to see the world as it actually is, at least occasionally, wisely or not, once in a while, for better or for worse, I think it would be a bit more honest, at least on some occasions, of which this is one, to recognize the debts, never to be well repaid, which an author owes to others, many friends, most of whom he will never meet or know. First, novels are, clearly, a collaborative enterprise, as, in their way, every reader is a coauthor, creating, from a set of marks on a page, a vivid, marvelous, personal world, replete with its own colors, passions, winds, seasons, and weathers. Many roads lead from Rome. Beyond this, there are always the countless contributions, too often unremarked, without which a book, as it is normally thought of, would not exist. These far transcend the technologies of reproduction, involving an awesome compass of skills and talents, both artistic and practical. One thinks of such things, in particular, as artwork, packaging, marketing, and distribution. I have been very fortunate in many ways, and I am very grateful. I would also like to use this brief occasion to express my gratitude, however inadequately, to many individuals who have for years, with diligence and affection, largely by means of the internet, supported me and my work. Their commitment, and that of their sites, has been unapologetic and determined. Attention has been called to my work, and, in many instances, it has been honestly and salubriously promoted. Their aid, in various cases, has ranged from the friendly but exacting review of manuscripts, which is much appreciated, to galleries of artwork and platforms for research and discussion. These people understand diversity as diversity; integrity as integrity; and a free market as a free market, which is refreshing. Amongst these individuals, most of whom are unknown to me, I would like to cite three in particular, Mr. Mark Collins, Mr. Jon Ard, and Mr. Simon van Meygaarden. I would also like to take this occasion to thank my friend, and agent, for many years, Mr. Richard Curtis. To all my friends, known and unknown, with respect and affection, I wish you well.