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THE
PERFECT
INCARNATION
Version 1.0
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A tiny blue spider, about the size of
a child's finger nail, trodded on thetable's top. He grabbed it between his
thumb and index and brought it in frontof his eyes. The insect squirmed
helplessly in his grip.
"Does the God breath in you also?"The spider made no reply, just
seized to move its legs. It watched theking with his many, countless eyes.
He pressed his fingers and rubbedthem together, smearing dark-blue
blood on his tanned skin.
"Not any more", he said and gave aharsh laughter, wiping his fingers onthe table.
Someone knocked on the door and
entered without waiting for hispermission. Beku rose from his seat to
meet his guest.A short, stalky man appeared in the
door's frame and bowed low. "My lord",he said, eyes straight at the floor,
"there is someone here to see you."
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Beku went round the table and sat
on the window's sill; he loved to makepeople wait around for him. He gazed
outside at the harsh shadows peopleand animals threw on the ground,
beneath the scorching sun.
"Who is it?" he asked deliberately."A woman, from a village nearby,
my lord."Beku gave his guard a sharp look.
His charcoal eyebrows joined at thebase of his tall forehead.
"What does she want? What isn't
she gone already and why am Ibothered by her presence?"
The guard swallowed a couple of
times, before answering any of the
questions. "She said she will only seeyou, my lord."
Beku jumped up from his seat andwith three steps he was towering above
the man. The soldier shrunk back.
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"What? Twenty lashes and one
night in jail. Tomorrow morning she cango back home."
He turned on his heels and strodetowards a great chair. He let himself fall
on the soft cushions. Seeing the guard
still milling around, he had a mind ofkilling him on the spot. Still, he wanted
to hear the man's reasons for lingeringthere, before killing him with his own
weapon."Well?"
The guard stifled a sob and dropped
on all fours. "With all due respect, mylord, we cannot whip her and, I'm afraid,you cannot sent her home either."
Beku smacked him on the back of
the head and the man fell flat on thefloor. He started shivering and
mumbled some excuse. He pulled himup by the collar and slammed him with
his back against the door
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"Am I now to be told what I can and
cannot do in my own kingdom, by aguard?"
His face so close to the guard's thathe could almost taste the man's fear.
"No, n-not at all, my lord", the
guard replied with his eyes closed andhis head turned away. "I'm just
reminding you that today begins theMonth of Mercy."
Yes, of course, the guard was right:the accursed Month of Mercy, his
father's invention. Beku let the man
drop and strolled away towards thewindow.
"Tell her to prepare herself."
The guard made himself scarce in
no time.Beku's fingers were still tinged blue.
He lifted up his hand in the light andlooked carefully at that for a couple of
moments."The God's blood on my fingers, the
God's blood runs deep in my veins.
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Who's to doubt me? Who'll deny me of
anything? I am his perfect incarnation."With that, he left the room,
slamming the door behind him.
The Hall of the Ancients was round
and had no windows. The light came inthrough a round hole in the roof. It gave
a circle of light in the middle of the hall.There stood the throne: austere and
foreboding, made of roughly hewn
wood and adorned with river stones,rough and painted red.
Beku took his seat and motioned of
the guards to open the doors. When he
had been but a child this room dwarfedand awed him at the same time. Now,
he felt it was not enough to contain him.For a long time now he wished to tear
down its wooden poles and build wallsof brick and marble, like he had seen
abroad. But the priests have shook their
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heads upon hearing of his plans;
blasphemy against their sires, that iswhat they called it. If only he could get
rid of their annoying lot. Alwaysembracing the past, ever fearing new
things, good, solid things. If he could
only have his way. But the people...They would surely rebel if he should slit
their throats like he fancied. He couldnot afford to lose them: the weak, the
stupid, the poor, the many. He neededthem badly and to keep them, he
needed the priests. For the time
being...If entire nations could be madeto crawl on their bellies like snakes andeat dirt, so could ideas be torn down
and others built in their places: better
ones, newer ones.The two doors opened with a groan,
pulled by two slaves attached to themwith ropes. Three shadows stepped
forward: two tall and broad-shouldered,framing a third one, feeble and shaky.
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The woman advanced until she
reached the circle of light, in front of thethrone. There, she prostrated herself on
the ground, her face against the reddust.
"What's your name, woman?" Beku
asked, crossing his legs."Usha, my lord", she said humbly.
Her voice was weak, like a spring thattrickles between boulders, high in the
mountains."Why have you come here today?
To seek my counsel?"
"Nay, my lord. To beg for yourmercy."
She got up on her knees, but still
did not look upon him. Two river of
tears dug their courses on her dirtyface.
"In what matter?" He was alreadystarting to lose his patience.
"Have mercy on a poor woman. Myhusband died during the last war and I
find myself incapable of working the
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land which the village entrusted us with.
The chieftain will take it away from meand my abode also he will take and give
to another. I will be left without home orfood, at the mercy of others. Surely,
even before fall comes, i will be dead of
hunger.""What do you want of me?"
"Mercy, my lord." She advanced onher knees towards him. "Make so that I
can keep my house and part of my landat least, so that I may work it according
to my powers and live of it. You are all
powerful and just - take mercy on me."She lifted two black eyes at him,
streaming with tears.
"Power and justice have nothing to
do with mercy", Beku cut her short. "Icannot and will not change the ancient
laws just because you had themisfortune to become a widow. Accept
your fate. Go back to your village andawait your death. Your sorrows will end
once you'll be reunited with the God."
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He got up and passed her by. Usha
threw herself on the ground and clungto his feet. Beku almost tripped.
"Don't send me to a slow andpainful death, my lord." She kisses his
feet. "Mercy!"
The king turned around, grabbedher by the hair and yanked her up. He
struck her with his fist in the faceseveral times, until blood spurted out of
her mouth and nose. Then he shovedher backwards. She tumbled on the
floor, crying. SHe tried to raise herself
up but couldn't. Beku kicked her in thestomach, while she kept clutching at itwith both her hands and trying to turn
on her belly. He forced her to lie flat on
her back and stepped on her belly withall his weight. She gave a shrill cry and
tugged desperately at his leg. Hecrouched near her and wiped his bloody
knuckles on her frock. Her face was ared mess, her mouth and eyes swollen
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and she was barely breathing. He spat
on her and got up."Get her out of here," he said to no
one in particular on his way out.He walked his palm over the
wooden columns that sustained the roof.
Marble, definitely marble.
Usha took a long hard look at herhome; in just three days it will be taken
away from her, together with the land it
stood upon. In one corner, wrapped indirty, bloody rags, her stillborn wasslowly rotting away. A swarm of noisy
flies circled the corpse. She passed a
hand over her bruised belly and sigheddeeply; she could cry no more. The king
has emptied her inner wells, there wasnothing left. He took everything from
her: a husband, two sons and now herhumble abode. Truly it would have been
better if he had beaten her to death. But
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that would have been an act of mercy
and king Beku did not know themeaning of that word.
Somebody tugged at Usha's elbow.She startled and wheeled around. She
had not heard the small boy, her
neighbor's son, walk in. He stood therebehind her, pointing his brown eyes at
her. Usha tried to smile, but the woundson her face turned the smile into a
hideous grin. The boy gave her an oddlook and backed away half a step.
"Come quick, come with me", he
said and darted out of the hut.Usha followed reluctantly; she was
not in the mood to play games.
"Please come at once." He grabbed
her wrist and pulled her after him. Painshot up and down Usha's arm. She
stifled a groan and followed him."What's the matter?" she asked as
they left her tiny courtyard. "Issomething wrong with your mother? Is
she sick?"
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The boy shook his curly head. "No.
It's the soothsayer. She promised me arice cookie if I'll bring you to her."
The soothsayer's hut was out of thevillage, hidden deep within a grove of
trees. People usually came to her when
the priest's efforts as a healer did notsatisfy them. Most of the time though,
they seek her to have their fortune toldand to buy different kind of potions;
things which the priests frowned upon(to say the least) and for which one
could be thrown into the jail if found on
them.Usha had never been there herself,
for she had never been in need of the
old woman's services, cheep as they
were. Even now, as the small hutpopped into view from between two
huge cypres, she could think of noreason why the soothsayer should have
summoned her. She went along withthe boy so that he could have his treat,
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for she knew how his parents struggled
everyday to provide for him.Usha pushed aside the animal skin
that served as a door and steppedinside. She could barely see through the
curtain of smoke. The pungent smell of
drying herbs stung her eyes."Why have you come, my child?"
The voice came from across the hut,behind the small fire burning in its
middle. Old it sounded and decrepit,like an ancient door squeaking on its
rusty hinges.
Usha looked around for a place tosit, but soon got dizzy and let her selfslide on the earthen floor. Her body
ached against the firmness, but it felt so
good to sit down."You've summoned me,
soothsayer", she replied, peering at theold woman through the smoky gloom.
"And you've obeyed. You did theright thing in coming here today."
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A shadow shifted across the fire. A
short, stooped woman materializednext to her and sat down at her left side.
They did not speak for a long time. Thesoothsayer gazed dreamily at the fire.
Usha's head swam and her vision
became blurry. The small, dark world ofthe hut lost even the fine, hard edges in
had. A strange, soft tiredness (like thevelvet she had always heard about, but
never felt against her skin) grabbedhold of her. She craved sleep; to let her
eyes falls hut and never opened them
again. But who knows what might befellher if she should fall asleep in thatplace? Strange stories went around the
village about the great power that lay
within the frail crone. Some said it wasthe very reason why priest still let her
live: because they could not kill her,because they feared her.
"What do you want of me?" Ushaasked, trying to return back to her dark
reality.
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The soothsayer did not take her
eyes off the leaping tpngues of fire."What do you want of me?"
The woman was crazy, Usharealized and she was wasting what little
time she had left with her. Before she
could express her confusion, thesoothsayer spoke again.
"what is a soon to be homeless onedoing in my home? What do you need?"
Her voice rose. "What do you seek?Death?" She gave a gurgling chuckle.
"That, I won't give you."
Usha rose to her feet. There was nopoint resting there another moment.Riddles had never interested and crazy
old women's babbling even less. The
soothsayer grabbed her by the elbowand pulled her down. She pointed a pair
of whitish eyes at Usha. Those, morethan her iron grip, made the young
woman stay, afraid even to breath tooloud. They locked gazes for a couple of
moments, then the older woman
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returned her attention to the fire once
more."You're little one is dead", she
began in hushed voiced, as if afraid."Murdered even before he tasted life.
Your house is soon to be taken away
from you, for ever. Your husband andyour other son both died so that
another man might quench his thirst forpower and blood. I ask you again:
what's a lonely, homeless widow seek inmy abode?"
"Blood", Usha replied without
thinking for even a moment. The wordstrangely filled her mouth with a saltytaste, it brought refreshment to her
being, like a balm poured on a pilgrim's
feet in the desert. "Noble blood."The soothsayer turned around and
grinned. "I'll give you that somethingeven more precious than that: the very
throne his father left him."
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Beku kicked the kneeling man inthe chest, than returned to seat in his
throne. He tore a hunk of cheese from aplate nearby, placed upon an ebony
short table. He began chewing with his
mouth wide open, crumbles and salivafalling on his lap. He watched with a
smile as the man tried to get back on hisfeet, clutching at his breast, struggling
for air."This is not a day of mercy, my
king", he mumbled.
Beku laughed, but there was nomirth in his cold, blue eyes.
"This is about as much mercy as
scum like you will ever get from me.
Trust me: if you should come see metomorrow, when this damned month
will come to an end, with the sameplight, you'll better understand today's
mercy. Begone now! Mind your eyesand your flock, mingle less in your
neighbor's business."
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The man bowed and limped out of
the Hall of the Ancients. He mumbledsomething to himself.
Beku was more relieved to see thatthe sun was setting outside. Tomorrow
he will be able to get back to more
pressing matters.The next plaintiff was ushered in by
the guards: a poor woman judging byher dress, ugly, and walking with a limp.
Still her head was held high, almosthaughtily one might think. She
approached the throne much like
everyone else, but did not enter thecircle of light and did not bow. She heldherself erect, draped in shadows.
Beku slowly placed the chicken
wing back on the silver plate and wipedhis greasy fingers on his clothes. He
straightened in the chair, crossed hislegs and placed his hands on the arms
of the chair."You do not bow before your king
and yet you come to beg for his mercy?"
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His voice was relaxed. This meeting
promised something more than theusual ones.
"Equals should not bow to oneanother. And I'm not here to beg for
your mercy", the woman replied
sharply.Guards with unsheathed swords
swarmed towards her. Their weaponspoised, they awaited but a sign to strike
the insolent peasant down. Beku heldup his hand, then waved them away. He
noticed that the woman did not flinch,
even though a dozen scimitars hadbeen held not more than three palmsaway from her head. This intrigued him.
"Who are you, woman?" He
causally rested the heal of his hand onthe hilt of his sword and stepped
forward.The woman laughed, throwing back
her head. "Who am I? Why, I'm anincarnation of the God, just like the the
guards gathered here, just like you."
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She paused and stepped into the light.
Beku curled his fingers around thesword's pommel. "Only better."
Hot blood throbbed inside Beku. Inone quick motion he unsheathed his
long sword and pressed its blade
against her neck. Still, the woman didnot move a muscle.
He grinned wolfishly. "Now youdie."
"I'm here to challenge your throne",the woman replied casually.
Beku gawked. A murmur passed
through the ranks of his soldiers. Hecould not believe the words he justheard. He let out a roaring laugh and
lifted up his sword to finish this bad joke.
A shrill cry made him halt his blade inthe air.
From behind the woman, an olderone stepped forward and placed herself
between them."The law clearly states that any of
your vassals has the right to challenge
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you, my lord", the old crone croaked
while bowing her white head.Beku smiled, genuinely amused.
"So, it is true?" he asked, pointing thetip of his sword at the younger woman.
She nodded, not letting go of his
gaze. He had just noticed how muchanger seethed in her black eyes.
"You want to challenge me?"The woman smiled. "When one has
finally grabbed hold of the truth, howcan one go on living as before? He must
take action, so that the truth might
come into the light, so that everyonecan see it shine?"
Beku sheathed his sowed and
crossed his arms on his chest. "And
what is this truth of yours? Is it soimportant that you should die for it?
Because your little endeavor here willend with your death."
"I've already told you. I am theperfect incarnation of the God, not you.
I am here to show it to the world.
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Tomorrow, at dawn, everybody will see
that I spoke the truth today."The king nodded and let himself fall
in his throne. "Very well. Tomorrow, atdawn, you'll die. You are over confident
for a poor peasant."
The woman smiled and shook herhead. She turned on her heels and
walked into the shadows. The cronefallowed in her wake, leaning on her
crutch."What is your name?" Beku asked,
taking a bite from an apple.
"Usha", she replied, not turningaround, nor stopping. "Queen Usha."
Beku assembled the priests. He
looked from one stern face to another.Nobody spoke and nobody dared meet
his gaze; as it should be."Why hasn't any of you mentioned
to me this little detail of the law, so that
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I can remove it before scenes like the
one we witnessed this morning neverhappen."
After much thinking and weighingof the words, a middle aged priest
cleared his voice and spoke out.
"My lord, the mistake is but oursand we are much to blame for this. But
i believe that even with our mentioningof this detail to you, it would not have
made any difference as to the scene ofthis morning."
"And why is that?" Beku leaned
with his elbows on the table.The priest smiled awkwardly and
glanced around at his brethren, but
everyone avoided his gaze.
"Because of the prophecy, mylord."
Beku arched his eyebrows. "Whatdoes the prophecy say?"
The priest shifted uneasy in hischair. He opened his mouth a couple of
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times, but no words came out. Beku lost
his patience.Nobody saw the small blade leave
the king's hand. They followed hisoutstretched arm with their gaze. The
priest clutched his bleeding throat with
both hands. Horror mauled his face. Histrembling lips tried to form words, but
only "horcaieli" came out. He collapsedhead forward on the table. A crimson
pool formed around his head, stretchingever wider, dripping on the floor.
Beku smiled and made an inviting
sign with both hands. "Anyone?"Moshu, eldest of the king's council,
rose from his seat and began pacing the
room, hands clasped behind his back.
"Indeed, my lord", he beganspeaking in a booming voice, "we have
inherited such a prophecy from ancienttimes, concerning a king that will be
dethroned by one of his vassals."Beku laughed out loud, but stopped
suddenly and frowned. "I am not the
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king your prophecy speaks about. Are
you all blind? Have you not seen whodares to challenge me? A meagre,
hapless woman."Moshu smiled slyly. "Yes, my lord,
she is the one you beat senseless at the
beginning of this month.""I knew I've seen her before", the
king said to himself. "So why should iworry?"
"It's not she that worries me, mylord", another priest spoke out, seated
at his right side.
Beku turned his gaze upon him."Then who?"
"It's the one she came with."
"The old hag?" the king laughed. "I
think i'll be able to handle them both atthe same time even."
"Certainly, certainly, my lord", thepriest hurried to add. "But it is not her
physical strength that troubles me, butwhat is about her cunningness."
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Moshu stormed towards the pries
and swathed him on the back of hishead.
"Shut your filthy mouth!" he cried,spittle forming around his mouth.
Beku relaxed in his chair and smiled.
He loved such displays of raw violence,even if it wasn't the place or the time.
The younger priest blushed andbowed his head.
"How dare you - an intimate of theGod, his second best incarnation after
our lord - lend your ear to such rumors?
That wench should have been killedlong ago and, if my memory doesn't failme, I had appointed the task of getting
rid of her to you. Now I see that it is
because of your lassitude and fear thatshe still breaths and poisons the
people's minds and hearts with her lies.I will see that it should be done,
personally." Moshu strolled awaytowards the window. "You are free to
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leave this room, since you are no longer
fit to be in our presence."The priest hurried out of the room,
keeping his gaze on the floor."In what does this challenge
consist?" Beku asked Moshu. He did not
care about the old woman and herrenown.
Moshu cleared his throat. "It mustbe said that such a thing has never been
done before. Still, our law describes thechallenge as to consist of two parts. If
she's to prove herself the better
incarnation of the God, she must showherself as your superior, both physicallyand intellectually."
"What does it mean?"
"First, she will ask you a riddle. Youhave exactly one hour to give the
correct answer, without consultinganybody. If you get it right it will be
your turn to ask her a riddle. If she fails,her life is forfeit."
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Beku grinned. "What if I fail to
produce the correct answer?"Moshu shot him an alarmed look,
but checked himself rapidly. "Than shehas proven that she has better
judgement than you. The next step is to
prove her prowess.""Armed combat?"
"Each of you may choosewhatsoever weapon you like."
Beku's eyes sparkled at the thoughtof spilling that peasant's unworthy
blood. "When does the match end?"
"When of you two lies breathless onthe ground", Moshu replied.
"What if I defeat her and choose to
torture her instead of offering her a
quick and painless death?"Moshu grinned. "As soon as she is
weaponless and defenseless before you,her life is yours, to end it as you please,
my lord." He finished with a deep bow,pressing his right hand flat against his
breast.
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Beku passed a hand over his cheek,
gazing through the window. "Good", hesaid to himself.
He rose and went straight for thedoor.
"Don't kill the old hag", he said
close to Moshu's ear. "I'll deal with bothof them tomorrow." The priest nodded
solemnly. "The priest whom you sentaway - cut his veins and let him bleed to
death."
Beku could see them, form thecorner of his eyes: milling about, not
sure if they should cheer or just go
home; the crowd and the soldiers too.He knew they hated him, all of them,
but even now they feared him, notbrave enough to show their true
emotions. That thought brought himsome comfort, a spoon of honey
dropped in the salty depths of the sea.
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The blood from the wound he
received on his forehead clouded hisvision, mixing with the sweat and the
dust. He tried to control his heavingchest, but to no avail. Never in his life,
with all the battles he had fought, had
he been so close to death, tasting itsfoul smell. He coveted it, of course, but
mostly to avoid some form of shamefultorture, than to become re-united with
the God. The priest always talked aboutthe serenity of good, brave man before
they take their final breath. Not him,
though. Right now, the God simplyceased to exist, rendering him as asimple creature that has come to the
end of its miserable existence. No
future ahead and behind him, a score oflies and deceits.
He stole a hurried glance to hisright: the sword's hilt was way out of
reach. He could hear Usha breathingheavily above him. The tip of her
bloodied spear poked him in the wind
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pipe, just above the breast bone. How
could this have happened?Surely the priest that bled to death,
screaming like a pig, had been right.That soothsayer was surely more than
the eye can meet. The riddle he had
been asked did not come from a normal,human mind, and surely it was not the
product of a dirty peasant's mind.And her power! Her skill at wielding
the spear and the shield! Never had heseen such display of swordsmanship. It
was impossible: peasants could not
fight in such a way, even with years oftraining. And yet it happened not longago. Even his best chieftains with
dozens of years of fighting behind them,
did not move with such uncanny speedand finesse. It was as if she was one
with her weapon, the spear only one ofher limbs. How did she do it?
Beku shrugged off that thought.Death's cold breath was upon him. He'll
take that question, unanswered, with
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him wherever he may end up after
Usha'll plunge her spear in his throat.She leaned closer to him. If only he
had some force left within..."What do you ask of your Queen?"
she said, starring at him and bobbing
her head to one side. A drop of sweatrolled off her nose onto his chest: it felt
like ice against his fever."What does her highness offer?"
Beku said mockingly and spat blood inher face.
Usha laughed. "She has everything
to offer, for everything has been givento her and now lies within her easygrasp. You need only to ask."
Beku grinned and that hurt more
than he could have ever imagined. "Iwon't grovel before you and i will not
beg neither for death, neither for life.Do what you have to do."
Usha mused at that for a couple ofmoments. "You are right: the choice is
entirely mine. To kill you right here and
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right now would be so easy and it would
make me feel so good."Beku's breath picked up its pace.
"Then do it!""And yet to torture you... that
would be even better. Maybe you'll feel
a little pf the pain I've felt because ofyou."
"You'll do what you want with me,for I am in your hands now. But know
this: I'll deny you the pleasure ofhearing me scream for mercy. And bear
in mind another thing: rulers are born
not made."Usha grinned. "But what if i decide
to let you live?" Beku froze. "Deliver you
to your many enemies, to a life as a
runaway, as a castaway, something youhave never been."
She sprang to her feet and liftedher spear high in the air. Whit one quick,
skillful motion she thrusted it towardshis head. Beku closed his eyes and
flinched. The spear jutted in the ground,
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tow fingers away from his left ear. Usha
walked away to where the priests wereseated.
Beku raised his head and proppedhimself on his elbows. He wiped away
the blood off his face and gazed around
him. No one avoided his look anymore.They all frowned at him and some of
them even grinned maliciously.Opposite of him, on the other side
of the ring, Moshu kneeled and pressedhis front against Usha's right hand. The
gesture made Beku sick.
One by one, the soldiers togetherwith the priest walked away, headingtowards the Hall of the ancients, where
the coronation would take place. Beku
found himself alone in the middle of thecrowd, weaponless and badly wounded.
There, beneath the scorching summersun, he tasted fear for the first time in
his life.He scrambled to his feet as fast as
he could. A bulky man shoved him and
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he fell on his back. Another one spat on
his chest. A couple of women begankicking him in the ribs, while laughing
and making jokes. He tried to block theoncoming attacks as best as he could
and tried to get up, but could not. He
began crawling towards a nearby tree.People kept laughing and joking on
his expanse, kicking him and throwinggarbage on his back. As he finally
reached the shade beneath the tree'scrown, somebody came upon him and
smote him on the back of his head with
a club. The God's blood stains yourhands, he thought right before the sundied.
THE END
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