The Blood-Rage (36) He knows that he has to approve, Darkcian thought. Carla smiled again. And, again, the gesture had no warmth. "It doesn't escape me that the term fair can be subjective. Still we hope you consider a judgment of the council fair simply because we made it. As you know, we have no government as do the off-worlders. Yet our system works because the majority of Agonians accept and follow our decisions. This leads to blood- shed only rarely, for it's considered dishonorable to go against a council's decision." "We understand that," Gravestone said. "Even though we may not approve of your decisions, we'll abide by them. The clan of Kalt is an honorable one." "Of course," Carla said. "I'd like to make one other request--no, an order. While the council meets, no member, witness, or defendant may draw weapon except to die by his or her own hand. All present will control their respective blood-rages, for we're rationals and will act as such. Council matters are too important to have them compromised by some fool's anger. Agreed?" "Yes, we agree. You have our pledge," Gravestone said. "Good," the councilwoman returned. "For your additional information, we've queried the other councils; and through their searches and ours, we haven't found anyone else on Agon who knows anything about the memory-lost one." She paused, apparently to see the effect of that on Gravestone. There was none, even Darkcian hid his disappointment. She nodded and continued, "Make yourselves comfortable. The thinkers have furnished us with food while we're here, and it may be gotten by going through that doorway there," she pointed to an opening in the white tower's wall about a hundred feet away. "Normally, that would be an insult to our independence; however, for just those involved with the council proceedings, this courtesy is extended so we don't have to range over the countryside to find food and thus miss or be late for the meetings. I'd advise you to swallow your pride and take advantage of it." "Seems to be a reasonable request," Gravestone said. "We'll avail ourselves of it. What time tomorrow is the council meeting?" She looked at the suns low on the horizon and said, "As you already know, the suns don't set this far poleward, they merely follow the horizon around in a circle. Thus, a little less than one turn will pass before we meet. When Ardent passes that point there," she pointed at a huge boulder resting on top of a distant hill, "we'll meet here." She then pointed down at their feet. Gravestone nodded and asked, "What about the warriors camped around us? Are we going to have to fight every fanatic who wants their own personal judgment now." "No. Like you, each has been warned that the judgment is ours alone. If anyone undisciplined enough to attack you appears, they'll answer to the council. And that answer will be a swift death." Patra asked dubiously, "We can rest in peace, then?" "Yes. No one will bother you while you and your ward are here to be judged. In other words, for you, this is probably the safest place on Agon." Gravestone bowed to the three again. "We don't look for safety; we look for justice. To be sure, we'll be here on the morrow to await your judgment. What's best for Agon will be best for us. Agon is our first-love." The three council members bowed in turn and left. After the departing warriors were out of hearing range, Patra said, "A cold-blooded bitch, that one." "We have no friends here," Gravestone said. "Or enemies, for that matter" he added. "The judgment should be objective." "That's wishful thinking. Already they appear to be slanted too far in the direction of Agon's Laws," the older woman replied, and then added, "You know, my second-love, we also may be judged by the council. They may rule us weak for adopting him." Gravestone shrugged. "They have him guilty already," Erendria said. "It's as I knew it would be. My dagger will drink the blood of this dog tomorrow." Patra looked at the young woman knowingly. "And, in truth, then you will be free of your own desire. Is that not so, daughter?" Erendria turned away, her mouth drawn tight. Darkcian watched the inner play between them and was depressed by it. He finally asked, "Tell me about the council meeting of tomorrow. What will I need to do?" Patra turned from her daughter to him and said, "You'll probably be asked to talk about yourself. Things like: what do you remember about your past; perhaps, even, what do you dream about; or, how much do you know about anything. They'll probe your mind for information, any information." "How is the council formed?" "The council exists to solve problems that have a wide appeal to the warriors of Agon. There are five such councils located at each of our cities. There are so many because of the long travel time associated with any gathering on Agon. Each council communicates to all others through the lok. As a result, all members world-wide will know about the proceedings here. As you heard earlier, there are permanent members and non-permanent members. The permanent members are usually old warriors who don't wish to travel even short distances anymore; they usually live in the cities themselves. Normally there are one or two thinkers present. All members will sit in a circle upon the ground, here," she indicated the ground around them. "As you heard the council spokeswoman, Carla, say, there will be no fighting among the members while the council is in session. Such combat is forbidden. Anyone wishing to speak should raise his or her hand for recognition, and the leader will control who speaks. All strive to make a meeting rational and peaceful, for nothing of any value can come out of it without that. Since it's so easy to enrage a warrior of Agon, everyone tries to be very polite and formal." Darkcian thought: If most of this council is composed of old warriors, there will be an abundance of anger. Aloud he said, "All will be against me. Isn't that so?" Patra answered, "Not all. Gravestone and I won't be, for example. We now believe that your strengths far outweigh any weakness that could be present due to memory loss caused by some flaw in your mind." "We finally part company, then," Erendria snapped. "For I'm against him. He should die for the genetic danger he poses to Agon; and if necessary, I'll lead the fight to have him executed. I'm free of your rule as of now and give you both notice that I go-lonely down the paths ahead." "You're an adult," Gravestone said, looking at her with his head down, eyes up. "It's your right to seek a path traveled by only one, even though you destroy our clan's chance to reach zenith. But, once again, that's your right. Yet I wonder? When the time comes for you to speak to the council, will it be from facts or from your own twisted emotions?" "I believe that I have enough facts to make a convincing case," the younger woman said, her head held high. "The Second Law is on my side. It's your thinking that's in the minority." "We shall see," Patra said, then turned to Darkcian to add, "It's not hopeless. Don't despair." CHAPTER 39 To reject reality for any reason, especially for fear, is the clearest identification of a coward. -From the Thoughts of Night Mist- Darkcian sat watching Ardent swing into position behind the distant boulder on the horizon. It was becoming more difficult to see the red-giant sun as the morning progressed because of the thickening clouds that were gathering spinward. Another storm was brewing, he guessed. "They come," Patra whispered. He looked over his shoulder at the progression of about twenty-five warriors that were heading their way. He turned back to look anti-poleward; there, about a thousand warriors had already gathered, all lined up and staring at him. Gravestone ordered, "Arise, student, and bow in the direction of those who approach." He complied, taking his time, trying to appear unconcerned. It wasn't easy. The permanent members of the council reached them and stopped. Never had Darkcian seen so many angry eyes, and their collective silence was like a shout of doom. The councilwoman, Carla, who had talked to the Kalts yesterday, nodded to him and then turned to face the warrior crowd. He watched as she raised her left fist and said, "May your enemies fear you this day, warriors. We who stand before you, some twenty-five in number, are the permanent council members of the pole region. We'll soon sit in judgment of a sword named Darkcian. For justice to be served, twenty-five more warriors of Agon are needed to help us judge." She opened both arms wide. "All who wish this solemn duty come forward and announce yourselves. It'll be a service to Agon." A murmur swept the crowd, and shuffling movements could be seen by Darkcian as a few warriors moved forward. One of those, a dagger covered by a diode-cloth, reached the council spokeswoman first. She raised her left fist and said, "I, Sulamith, volunteer." A murmur swept the crowd again. Carla, the spokeswoman, frowned and said, "Why do you cover yourself from our eyes?" Without hesitation Sulamith replied, "What has that to do with anything except your own curiosity?" Taken aback the spokeswoman said, "Why . . . nothing, I suppose." "Is it a criteria of membership into the council that all must be uncovered?" Sulamith asked. "No, of course not." "Well then?" By the look on the councilwoman's face, Darkcian knew his friend had won. "Welcome to the council," the older woman said. "Step forward and join with us in judging. Who else will serve?" She looked out over the crowd again. Slowly twenty-four more stepped forward and were accepted. The twenty-sixth volunteer was rejected by Carla's statement, "The council is now complete. We can accept no more. We request that all remaining warriors return to their respective camps to await the outcome of the judgment. A summary of this meeting's activities will be presented over the lok at the end of this day's turn. May our wisdom preserve Agon and its laws." As one, the crowd raised their left fists and shouted, "Agon and its laws!" The council sat in a circle, twenty feet in diameter; and Sulamith noticed that, other than sitting cross-legged, there was no order to their seating; each sat where they wished. Darkcian was seated with Erendria on his right, Gravestone and then Patra on his left. She, herself, sat on the opposite side of the circle from the Kalts. Those warriors on either side of her moved a good shoulder-length away, as if reluctant to get too close to something strange. She was used to that. The composition of the rest of the circle's members varied. She knew some were famous and thus known to all. Others were obscure, common warriors. For some this was their first council participation. For others it was a familiar task. Some were old, still others young. A true mix. Sulamith also knew that among themselves they would give the most respect to the older warriors . . . and the most caution. Furthermore, since this group had a chosen leader, the first to speak would probably be one of distinction. She waited, wondering. It was an old-eyed woman. She was small and gaunt, even her eyes seemed to be sunk into a skull that was well defined by the tight skin that stretched around it. Along with her tendons and sparse muscles, the bones of her body were sharply visible. Sulamith thought that this dagger was one of the few people she had seen that looked ancient like old off-worlders. And I bet she has always looked so, she added silently. Desert bred, probably. "Let's begin," the old woman said in a voice that was surprisingly soft. "My weapon-name is Shara. I'll be presumptuous enough to speak for the older-ones among us by saying that we want to hear and judge this matter quickly. Let's make this a meeting of facts and attempt to keep emotionalism out of our discussions so that those of us who hang onto our blood-rage by the thinnest of threads do not snap from the weight of too much anger. I know this will be difficult. "Much of the planet-wide warriors are aware of our mission here and await our decision with interest. The Kalt clan's problem has been a popular issue since it was communicated to our people through the lok. Let us now get to the point and resolve this problem in a civilized manner." She glanced skyward, frowning at the darkness of the gathering clouds. The old woman looked at those seated around her and nodded when--Sulamith guessed--she detected no objections to her leadership. She then continued her visual scan of the council while saying, "I'll state the problem for those few who have not yet been briefed as to the accusations that have befallen on one of our warriors. "We are to consider a past and a still present violation of the Second Law of Agon. It involves the existence of the male named Darkcian who is tainted with the weakness of memory loss. "Normally this would not have become a problem for a council to contemplate. Most of our brother and sister warriors upon finding such an alleged weakness would have killed such a one long ago. "And, indeed, I've been told, there have been those who have tried to kill this man Darkcian; but from the same source, I understand it has been no easy task. According to information given to me over the lok by a warrior named Rasp, this memory- lost one may well be one of the more skilled swordsmen on Agon. So, although this man's defeat has been sought, it was to no avail. "The warrior Rasp also pointed out that extenuating circumstances of this particular case brings into conflict the First and Second Laws. Clearly he cannot be killed and thus satisfy the Second Law without first finding what took his memory. The safety of the other warriors of Agon takes precedence over all-else; this is the rule of the First Law. Hence, this paradox must also be part of our consideration. "It falls to us to scrutinize this problem and judge those who need judging. I predict this will be no small task. We may have to order one or more of our warriors to bow his or her head to the earth." She looked pointedly at Gravestone and Patra. Shara then scanned the rest of the group, stopping when her hawk-like gaze centered on Darkcian. "Let us start. Who would speak against the warrior, Darkcian?" Sulamith immediately saw Erendria raised her hand. No surprise there. For some odd reason, the bitch has wanted his death from the very beginning. But since she has coupled with him, that's almost inconceivable to me now. Why would anyone want to destroy someone who brought him or her incredible joy? "You may speak, daughter of Gravestone," acknowledged Shara. "As we all know," Erendria stated, "the Second Law decrees that all weaknesses that threaten the genetic purity of Agon must be destroyed. This man to my left has no memory beyond about sixty days ago. No known cases of absolute memory loss, other than those from blows to the head, exist on Agon. Do we want to chance having our future children born with such a horrible affliction? Do we want to chance the creation of a race of dumb idiots who upon reaching adulthood suddenly forget knowing our history, our customs, and our values? His seed is poison. The poison must be DESTROYED!" The last word was a shout. There were murmurs of agreement from around the human circle. Erendria continued, "I found him near the start of Fleeing- Winter, a mindless fool with not a mark on him. At that time, he was not even able to speak our language. Now, even after he has been retrained, he's still a fool. This is a simple case to consider. He has a serious weakness; therefore he must die." Sulamith could take this no longer. She raised her hand to speak. Getting that permission, she asked of Erendria, "Perhaps you will tell us how he lost his memory so we can guard the future generations of young Agonians from the terrible danger that caught him?" "He alone is the danger, none other." "You mean that he just spontaneously acquired amnesia while walking through a field of flowers?" Gravestone laughed aloud, others snickered. "If so," Sulamith continued, "we should track down his father and mother and kill them also. For they could be the ones who harbor this strange mutation." "Why are you trying to make light of this by joking?" snapped Erendria. "What's he to you, you disfigured bitch?" "I'm after justice," she answered. "And I don't think you serve that end. Also, I would advise you to be careful with your insults. When this meeting is over, I may come looking for an apology." "Look and be damned. In my opinion, you should be killed along with him. Agon doesn't need an ugly dagger roaming its surface and hiding behind a diode-cloth." Shara interrupted their quarrel by saying to Erendria, "You overstep the bounds of reasonable conduct by this line of insults. Ugliness is not a criteria for life. If it was, I would probably have perished myself long ago. We digress in this harsh interchange of threats. We need to go on. "I think it needs to be established if others of the clan of Kalt agree with their daughter's allegation about Darkcian's alleged weakness." As befitting a clan, Gravestone answered for it. "No, we deny this allegation. We don't agree with our daughter." "Then you say that your daughter lies when she claims he suffers from memory loss?" "No. In that she spoke the truth. I merely deny that that is necessarily a weakness when all of his strengths are considered in balance against it. Weakness is a relative term. Each of us here is weaker than another in some way. Perhaps Karmond, there," he nodded toward a warrior acquaintance across from him, "can fight better than me. Does that make me weak? I think not. "I would wager that few Agonians could stand before Darkcian's sword. He is a sword-master. Such a rarity should not be destroyed, not if we truly value strength." Erendria raised her fist for recognition, and Shara nodded consent. The younger woman said, "The charge I have presented doesn't deny any of the facts just voiced by my father-teacher. Darkcian's strengths are without dispute. My disagreement lies in my father's implied definition of weakness. Weakness isn't defined as a lesser strength of a particular quality as compared to another, which is usually a gray area anyway; but is defined as a quality that can genetically be transmitted upon procreation. The Second Law is clear on this point. It doesn't matter what his deeds have been, good or bad, but can he contaminate Agon by genetic means. If he can, the law is also clear in stating that Agon will be protected by killing the tainted-one." There were many nods and grunt of agreement around the circle. Sulamith was now sick with the intensity of the icy fear that seemed to be freezing the blood in her veins. She cared for this memory-lost one more than for her own life. He was the only one during her twenty-one years who had befriended her, who had touched her, who had kissed her, who had . . . who had . . . she shook her head, trying to drive that last thought out. But she knew with certainty that she now loved him beyond all else. She then chanced a glance toward him. His calm eyes were warm as they looked back into hers. Does he really love me, too? she wondered suddenly. A sword sitting opposite from Shara raised his fist for recognition. His eyelids were almost closed, hiding from the others his age. With a nod, Shara acknowledged his right to speak. He said, "Long ago I weapon-named myself Keen."
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