Sacral Man
A Parable for Whistleblowers
Said the Traveller to the Trader as they marched into the main city of the state of Angeass; “Do you hear the crowd? We’re in time to see the alignment rituals starting.”
Said the Trader to the Traveler; “Yes, the whole city must be there. The outskirts look deserted.
There is the temple pyramid, with smoke rising. Over there, that would be the new one you said they are building. That looks a little…extravagant.”
Said Traveller; “ Chief Boombazl is an extravagant ruler. You can see many of the people here do not share in the wealth of this land.”
“I see. But up ahead are the wealthier houses. A market for my vanilla pod. I’ll see what else they need.”
“We outlanders cannot enter the central precinct. That way is the central market. Other caravans will be there waiting for the day’s market to begin. After the sacrifices. We must check in with the officials.”
The Trader walked up to the gate of the central precinct and examined it closely. He met scowls from the guards on duty. He bowed to them and turned away.
They arrived at the unguarded gate into the market square. The Traveller held out his tree bark papers to the official in his booth.
The official examined the documents. He said to the Traveller; “Your name is Chox, you have a special license to broker deals, including futures deals, in our market. You can attest to this Trader, named Quenk from…”
He scowled and looked long at Trader Quenk. “…from Azitiz, bringing vanilla pod…, twenty packs, …lets see!”
Trader Quenk gestured to his lead packer to drop his pack and open it. Market Manager picked up a pod and said; “Good pod. Right, bring it over to… that enclosure. The market will open when the sacrifices are complete.
Market fee is ten percent. In advance. The treasury porters will be around to collect it.”
Said Quenk; “May we view your alignment rituals?”
Market manager scowled. “Outlanders are not permitted inside the sacred square, on penalty of becoming the next sacrifice. You can watch from that platform over there.
Your packers can find water at the fountain behind those pillars.”
The manager made some marks with a wooden stylus on a piece of tree bark coated with sap. He handed it to Quenk. “Your market permit”.
Quenk saw to it that his packers were watered and could find cornmeal and firewood for sale. As they cooked dinner he mounted the platform and stood by Chox the Traveller to observe proceedings at the great temple of Angeass.
He said; ”We are paying a premium here for our supplies.”
A trader standing near said to him; “Be careful here. Some traders from places they are unfamiliar with or do not like get cheated, or just robbed. Many don’t come here because of that.
They have improved their behaviour lately because they need commerce. They have a rich jade quarry here but they have trouble producing some things…things that should be easy to produce locally.
Also, be careful what you say about them in hearing of people you don’t know. A few people have ended up losing various appendages that way.”
“Thank you for the warnings, trader.” Said Trader Quenk.
They watched the rituals. A tall, attractive, obviously very drugged young woman was half lead and half carried up the steps of the pyramid. She was dressed in a handsome costume of exotic feathers and gems. She was trying to shout something to the crowd, but her drugged state, the rumble of the crowd, and the distance across the plaza made it impossible for Quenk to make out.
The body of the previous victim rolled down a ramp beside the staircase as she climbed, to the butchers waiting at the bottom to turn him into part of the evening’s feast. The crowd below moaned and swayed in unison, singing praises to her beauty and other admirable characteristics, and begging The Gods and Lord Boombazl to spare her, to be less harsh masters. Many reached past her guards to touch her.
However, on the top platform and the upper tier of the pyramid crowded bejewelled and finely dressed people, protected by a line of armed guards. They mocked the victim, uttering yips and howls and more grotesque animal-like noises, calling her a fool and rebel, and praising Lord Boombazl and various Gods.
She reached the platform. The High Priest uttered the dedication of her spirit to The Gods and signalled the executioners to begin. They stripped off the splendid robe and tossed it to the crowd, leaving her totally naked, and fastened her to a pole. They began torturing her.
The crowd became hysterical, screaming about the injustice of it, but making no attempt to rescue her. Many threw off their own clothes and rolled around on the upper tiers of the pyramid, screaming in harmony with the screams of the victim. Some cut themselves and others licked their blood.
Quenk noticed that the crowds was silent lower down on the pyramid and onto the plaza. it seemed the victim was trying to urge the crowd to rise up and free her, and to rebel against Boombazl. He caught something about the evil of the priests in betraying a truce.
Sparkling in gold and precious stones, Boombazl sat on the roof of a cabin built above the sacrificial platform, a splendid canopy above him. He waved his sceptre back and forth in pleasure at the scene below him.
Quenk climbed down and spoke quietly to his chief packer. “It will be best if the men don’t view the …show.. until after eating. I do not want it to wreck their appetite. We will likely be leaving early.”
Quenk strolled around the market. He admired the skilful engineering of the aqueduct that fed the water fountain and then carried away waste, but noticed it seemed to have been poorly maintained recently. He saw the priest/ruler’s treasury porters stacking up the blocks of jade to be offered for sale.
Quenk stood briefly on another platform which had a poorer view of the rituals on the pyramid, but a better view of the layout of the sacred precinct of the city; the palace of Boombazl and his priests, the guard’s barracks, the chancery, the prison of the sacral victims.
Quenk meandered back toward his own enclosure. He noticed that his vanilla pod had some competition, and checked on what other goods were in over and under supply.
The enclosures were filling up with purveyers of various goods and their employees. Each had a hearth for cooking and sockets for rigging canopies. Each was fronted by a broad table for displaying and exchanging goods.
He arrived at his enclosure to see the treasury porters arrive and point to the vanilla packs. He nodded to his chief packer, who laid two packs on the table for the porters to take away.
Chox called from the platform that the main event was about to begin. Quenk mounted the platform again to see the latest victim come, not from a building on the plaza adjacent to the pyramid, but from a doorway in the top tiers.
The victim was a tall and striking man, naked but covered from head to toe in gold dust which almost concealed the scars of previous torture sessions. At his appearance, a chant went up from the excited crowd; “Oracle! Oracle! Oracle!”
Oracle raised his hands to the crowd. From below, a few of his worshippers brought up an elaborate gown and ornaments, rivalling in splendour Boombazl’s costume, and put them on him. Then the guards around him shoved them back into the crowd.
Oracle began to strut around the tier, closely followed by his guards. The crowd below jostled and shoved to get close enough to touch him, or throw flowers onto him. “Oracle! Our Oracle!”
“Peace! Beauty! Truth!” Shouted back the Oracle. “May The Gods give Lord Boombazl greater wisdom!”
One of the priestly acolytes slipped him a folder of bark papers out of sight of the crowd. Oracle waved them aloft as though he had pulled them from the air. “I say to you again; our chief does not rule justly. I have here the evidence that he spies upon his subjects, that he is violent. He has caused the murders of peaceful people who merely spoke truth.”
The crowd screamed; ”Oracle! Give us back our Oracle! End the wickedness. Boombazl, return to the right and just way!”
Oracle shouted; “Let there be no talk of violence. Violence offends The Gods. We must peacefully object to wrong and bad government and ask those in power to mend their ways. We pray to The Gods, we sacrifice to the Gods, to make our chief hear and change his heart!”
Quenk snorted. He said to Chox; “Yes, what you said of this place is true.
And the papers he waves around, they were given to him by people who thought he could get rid of Boombazl?”
Chox looked over his shoulder before saying; “They contain proof of Boombazl’s misrule; embezzling funds, paying a network of spies and informers…he had lists of those spies and stooges. The papers include lists they made of potential rebels, with names of those already assassinated ticked off.”
Quenk; “And all he did with this, after all his rhetoric, was to allow Boombazl and his henchmen to get back the papers, so they could deduce who gave them to him?”
Chox; “And they were all tortured to death and eaten. Boombazl has revived human sacrifice and cannibalism which had no longer been practiced here.”
Across the plaza, Boombazl decided that this part of the show had gone on long enough and gestured to his guards and acolytes. A junior acolyte tore the papers from the Oracle’s hands and made a show of throwing them to the floor. They were carefully scooped up out of sight of the crowd.
The guards then roughly tore the gown and ornaments from the Oracle and flung them back to the crowd. They then pulled him over to the torture pole.
The High Priest roared out to the crowd, especially to the Oracle’s cult on the higher tiers; “Behold the punishment given to those who commit treason against The Gods and our splendid Lord Boombazl. Who steal the words of his holy men and loyal servants so as to confound the good government of our peaceful and prosperous state of Angeass. Who give encouragement to our envious enemies, who resent our obvious superiority.”
Quenk; “They never finish him off? Just do this twice a year?”
Chox; “At the two alignment rituals. At the solstices. When the sun must be turned around to go the other way.
This Oracle is the gift of The Gods for someone like Boombazl. The sacral victim who keeps giving. He convinces people it is immoral to resist violently and a virtue to be a permanent victim. Best of all he, or the cult built around him, flags all opponents of Boombazl’s rule so they can be taken down a few at a time. Become the dinner and entertainment at the next feast of the alignment.”
The torturers were at work with the Oracle, but made sure not to kill him or leave scars which could not be concealed by the gold dust. Between shrieks Oracle continued his pronouncements about the need to object to wickedness but not actually do anything about it.
Boombazl was enjoying the show; his corpulent body seemed always about to break the chair he sat on. His laughter could be sensed rather than heard across the plaza, over the noise of the crowd.
The enthusiasts of the cult of the Oracle were higher up on the pyramid, responding to his torture in various ways. Many threw off their clothes and rolled around in a fit of hysteria, screaming at the priests to give them back their Oracle.
Some cut or scoured themselves and bled. Others masturbated. Both males and females howled their desire to copulate with the Oracle. Some urinated or defecated and rolled in it. Some vomited. The pyramid tiers soon became very messy places.
A woman held a crying infant aloft, shrieking; “Oh, Lord Boombazl, I give my first born child to be sacrificed if you will only give us back our Oracle!”
Quenk muttered; “It’s like they are in a contest to see who can put on the most shameful performance…”
Above the fans of the Oracle, on the platform, the elite of Angeass, the priests, officials, and persons of wealth and influence, clapped and hooted and Jeered. “It’s too bad you never die, you fake Oracle, you scum. You betrayed our Lord to his enemies just to satisfy your own ego.”
Quenk; “The thing is, if they stormed that platform in a determined way, they could beat those guards pretty easy.
And even get their, uh,…Oracle back.”
Below, on the plaza, those citizens of Angeass who were not invested in either side of the argument sat quietly, most of them closely examining the paving stones.
Said Quenk; “I have now seen all I needed to see.” He climbed down and went back to his enclosure.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — -
Soon after, the pack trader market prepared to open. No less a figure than the Lord Chancellor of Angeass, with escort, waddled up to the enclosure of Quenk and his company. He demanded and received their papers.
The Chancellor squinted at Quenk’s market pass. “You are from Azitiz, bringing vanilla pod?”
Quenk; “Yes, esteemed Lord Chancellor. We bring a note from the Vanilla guild of my city extending greetings to you and your great chief. We hope we can begin more regular trade…”
Chox handed the chancellor this document. He looked at it and handed it back. “Azitiz is a place which does not worship The Gods in a correct way. Low people are allowed to set up councils without the sanction of The Gods,…private property is not respected…”
“I apologize for the inadequacies of my backward home city, Lord. Perhaps with greater trade relations we will learn better ways from the great city of Angeass.”
The Chancellor stared long at Quenk and then handed his pass back. He looked at Chox.
Chox said; “Lord, I am from the city of Ek Chuaj. You have met me before. I have long experience in dealings with the government of your sacred city. I act as an agent for this trader to facilitate opening new trade with the city of Azitiz.”
“I welcome both of you to Angeass.” The Chancellor handed his documents back to Quenk. “As a sign of our esteem, I invite you to partake of our sacred feast. You may enter the sacred precinct and dine on the food of The Gods, the produce of our ceremonies today.”
Quenk bowed. “I must respectfully decline this honour though I am greatly flattered. I am accustomed only to the coarse food of my primitive home city of Azitiz. I fear such exalted fare will be too much for my digestion.”
“You will not dine with us? Hm..” The Chancellor scowled.
“Do not misunderstand me. I have the greatest admiration for the Lords of Angeass. To show my good faith and to assist in furthering trade between our two states, I offer my entire load for only a single one square xoot block of the famous Angeass Jade, so that the jade carvers of my city might study and admire it.”
“I think our jade is too fine for the amateur carvers of your primitive state to do justice to. I do not think we should let any of it go in that direction. However, you may want to carry home some of our excellent firewood.”
“Yes, Lord Chancellor, if it is your judgement that we would not be able to make the best use of such exceptional jade, I must consider myself privileged by such advice. As well, I would not wish to reduce your city’s stock of dry firewood during the wet season. Therefore, as token of my esteem for your brilliant city, the like of which I have not seen before, I will leave my entire load of vanilla pod as a gift to The Lord Boombazl.”
“On behalf of our Lord Boombazl, I accept your humble gift. I am sure our cooks can prepare adequate drink and condiments for our servants from these low quality ingredients.
I do not wish to delay you any further, Azitiz trader, Ek Chuaj broker. I am sure you would like to get a good start on your journey home before dark.” The Chancellor turned away.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Quenk returned to the city of Angeass at the time of the next solstice. The sacral rituals had just begun as he led a band of Azitiz soldiers through the deserted side streets, moving quickly and staying close to the walls to avoid being seen.
They burst across the boulevard at a dead run, taking the gate into the sacred precinct before the guards could shut it. A few chose not to bother with the gate and quickly got over the wall by another plan they had rehearsed. One stood on the other’s shoulders, got onto the wall, handed a rope to his partner, then dropped down, letting his weight pull his partner up.
The guards had not the courage or wit to fight, run, or raise a warning. They dropped their weapons and stood, astonished.
Said Quenk to the captain of his band; “Perfect! As I told you, they’re thugs, not fighters.”
The crowds moved aside as Quenk and his band trotted to the pyramid and began to climb the steps. A stunned silence fell over the plaza. Then orders were shrieked from the top of the pyramid that the guards must stop the invaders.
Only then did Quenk and his soldiers draw their weapons and unlimber their shields. They approached the guards blocking their way up the steps. The crowds on the tiers began screaming and backing away from the steps.
The guards on the front rank quickly discovered that being uphill of their opponents was not necessarily an advantage, especially at such a steep angle. Their short spears could not reach the Azitizians, while the front rank of Azitizians could wound their ankles.
Unable to find a solution for this tactic, the Angeassian guard panicked and fled back to the top of the pyramid, increasing the crowding and jostling. They were clearly unused to dealing with an opposition actually able to fight. The Azitizian troops moved onto the tiers, leaving a laneway down one side of the steps.
Quenk shouted out; “Angeass Guards! Do you really want to die defending the scum cowering behind you? Think about it!”
Most of the Angeass temple guard quickly decided they did not and fled down the steps. A few decided to stay and fight. The Azitizian troops switched to obsidian daggers to finish the job in the close quarters of the platform.
Quenk grabbed the first sacral victim and pulled him to safety. He shouted an order to kill everyone else on the platform. The screaming intensified as the best and brightest of Angeass tried to climb over each other to escape, their jewellry aglitter.
“Azitizian!” Screamed the Lord Chancellor of Angeass, “You will bring the wrath of The Gods upon you and your city. You cannot overturn by violence what The Gods…”
“Our Gods tell us to tell Angeassians from them, to tell your Gods that Angeassian Gods say that they are all shit gods. And your city needs better Gods and a better government.” Quenk neatly daggered the Lord Chancellor and went to deal with high priest Boombazl.
He found the steps to the roof of Boombazl’s cabin and found him standing on his throne, his eyes wide with terror, waving his arms, babbling incoherently. He had shit on the seat of his throne. As Quenk approached with raised dagger, he jump down from the throne and flung himself off the platform.
His huge, fat body landed with a satisfyingly resonant plorp! on the smooth back side of the pyramid and rolled downward, knocking over his subjects who were trying to escape down that side.
Quenk proceeded to his next business. He found the door out of which the Oracle had come half a year earlier. The Oracle had already emerged and begun to denounce to his following the violence and impiety of these mysterious invaders. Quenk knocked him down, tied his hands, and dragged him up to the platform.
Oracle continued his sermon while Quenk surveyed the scene on the platform. The last few oligarchs were being finished off in a corner to which they had retreated. Most were laying in their blood and finery. Those who had escaped were running across the plaza, or dragging themselves with injured limbs.
Quenk called to his captain; “See, I told you this wouldn’t be hard. Now you must send squads to secure the treasury, there, and the prison of the sacral victims, there. And put a guard on this wiseacre with the gold dust. He’s important.”
Then he walked down the steps again. Some Oracle fans jumped in front of him, rebuking him for his violence and demanding; “You must free our Oracle immediately! Give us back our Oracle and leave our country, you barbarian!”
Said Quenk as he tapped his dagger on his shield and brushed past them; “Dear people of Angeass, please pardon all the failings of myself and my country. I will be leaving as quickly as I can. However, it is necessary that I take your Oracle with me.”
Quenk descended to the lowest tier and looked out at the apolitical among the Angeassians staring pensively at him from the plaza. “Angeassians, you have nothing to fear from me and my men. We will soon leave. I believe your lives will now be… somewhat better because of what we have just done.
Now I need backpackers to carry goods back to my own city. I will pay a fair wage. I will recruit only from those who stand on this tier or below it.”
The Angeassians looked at each other in astonishment, then back at the Azitizian. Then an ample number flexed their shoulders and stepped forward to indicate their interest in the job.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
The next day Quenk and his caravan had reached a halting place on the road from Angeass leading back to his home. They rested and cooked dinner. Quenk inspected his packers and their sealed packs of loot from the treasury of Angeass and whatever else had been picked up from the temple pyramid.
He checked on the two wounded being carried on litters; his only casualties from the fight on the temple and the feeble Boombazlian counterattack later in the day.
He came to the small group he had rescued from the sacral victim’s prison. A few were unable to keep up with the march due to their mistreatment and were also carried on litters by the others. There were also a few Angeassians who had spontaneously joined the march.
Quenk said; “The Oracle is coming with me to Azitiz, whether he wants to or not. The rest of you may come to my city as well. I think you should. But if not, you are now far enough away from Angeass to be safe. You can go into the forest and find the other dissidents and fugitives. But do stay and eat dinner first.”
Several skipped dinner and scampered for the forest. Some, including a woman with a large scar on her forehead and her hair cut short, announced they would stay for maize and beans with chili, but wanted to visit their friends in the forest after. Others expressed a desire to see the bright lights of Azitiz.
Oracle had got out of his litter and walked back to Quenk, demanding to speak with the group of sacrifice survivors. He now wore a rough cloak but traces of gold dust still clung to him.
The victims had already objected to his presence, so that he had to be carried at the other end of the caravan. They affirmed that opinion by their hissing. Quenk told Oracle to go back to his own bearers and shut up.
He then struck up a discussion with the scarred woman, who introduced herself as Ich. They spend a leisurely hour over their bowls discussing the politics of Angeass and Azitiz. She was curious about the Azitiz system of government.
She asked; “You have no priest caste and no system of sacrifices? How do you keep The Gods appeased?”
“What is it we are we supposed to appease The Gods for?”
“Well, they created everything, the whole world, and keep it running, keep everything in place that humans depend on…”
“And who says this?”
“The Priests.”
“How do the priests know this?”
Ich looked warily at Quenk and slowly said; “I don’t think they do. I think they just want to rule over us.”
“You’re a smart woman. No doubt that’s what got you on the menu yesterday.”
Ich was pained. “I was in the forest with some other…God Angerers. We were finked out. Most of us escaped but I got hit on the head…
It’s so hard to fight against the Priest Caste. They have their finks everywhere, the Eyes and Ears. You can’t know who to trust. Except maybe foreigners, outsiders…
By the way, some of those people who joined the caravan are probably finks. The Priests aren’t beaten yet.”
Quenk; “It seems the only friends you have, that you can trust, are those who were with you, marked for slaughter. They are keeping the other …um…interested people out of hearing range, I see.
I will keep an eye on them, but I think it is a good idea to let them come to Azitiz. In the past we have had some agents for hostile powers rethink their ideas when they see our way of life.”
Ich; “You really have no priests or gods? No sacrifices?”
“We have gods. We leave heaven and hell to them and, since they don’t live in this world, they leave us alone to manage it.”
“So who created the world?”
“We don’t know. But whatever did, probably created the gods at the same time as us, so we don’t owe the gods anything special.”
“Your rulers do not receive their mandates from the gods? You just…choose them at random somehow, and they know how to talk to the gods?”
“We have a few old people who specialize in conversations with the gods when there’s something to discuss with them. But generally the gods keep out of our business, we keep out of theirs. All the good things that earth provides keep rolling on.
As for our way of government, we call it democracy. It’s a lot more complicated than just picking people by lot. You’ll see how it works when we get there.”
“I think you should meet with the…people living in the forest. I think some of them will want to visit Azitiz.”
“Yes, I think I should. And they should. Also, stop calling yourselves ‘God Angerers’. In Azitiz we usually call people like you ‘Dissidents.’ We like to host dissidents from states like Angeass, which we call Despotisms.
Then when conditions are right you can go back and try teaching your fellow Angeassians better ways to live.”
“Why do you do this? Why did you come to Angeass?”
“You may have guessed that I didn’t come here to sell vanilla. We Azitizians like to think we try to promote democracy and eliminate despotisms out of enlightened self interest.
Despotisms are usually offended by the existence of democracies. They form military alliances and trade embargoes against the democracies. Thus, when there are more democracies and fewer despotisms, it’s better for us. The number of democracies has been growing.”
“What if you Azitiz people are just doing this so you can take advantage of us in some other way?”
“That’s a good question. I notice that ordinary Angeassians know little history, but in ancient times a people called Tsil’tipac created an empire based on trade. Everyone had to trade through them and they became wealthy and powerful from the surpluses.
But in democracies, the people do not want to fight just to make rich people richer. Still, you are right. You should not blindly trust us. You should remember your own interests, the interests of the people of Angeass.”
Soon, Ich had finished her bowl and pronounced it to be the best meal she had eaten in some months. She promised Quenk to try to arrange a meeting with the dissidents of the forest.
She walked to the stream and received a ladle full of clean water to drink from her bowl. She brought the wooden bowl to the cleaning station a little way downstream, cleaned it with a pinch of soda ash, and presented it for the camp cook’s approval.
Then with a few companions, she slipped away into the forest.
Quenk looked up to see that his captain and chief packer were now waiting on him. “Yes, let’s get back on the march.
The scouts…anyone follow us from the city?”
“No.” Said the Captain. “But we are being watched from the forest.”
“Watch back.”
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
The caravan trudged on, making good time. The packers sang cheerful and catchy Angeassian songs, which the Azitizian warriors soon picked up. Quenk hummed along as he strode at the head of the column until the Oracle caught up with him to disturb his tranquility again.
Said Oracle; “You should not talk to those people. They are not innocent victims, not true sacral victims. They were not working to end corruption but to violently overthrow lawful order.
Go back to Azitiz. You have done only harm. I can persuade the people onto a peaceful and harmonious path.”
Quenk kept walking; “If you went back to the city you would likely become the next Boombazl, only worse. What these people need to see is that a different way of doing things is possible. That’s why I am inviting the people who can permanently change things here in Angeass to come to Azitiz for awhile.
At some point I will let them decide what should be done about you.”
“Can you not understand that violence…”
“…Solves nothing. And truisms prove nothing. And hypocrites have no standing to speak about violence.
Boombazl and his minions spoke against war and violence while using the worst of violence against their own people. And you supported Boombazl until he snubbed you. And if you came to rule you would use similar methods to maintain your power.”
“But order must be maintained. The people must fear The Gods or they will not work and obey the law.
What Boombazl and his council did wrongly was to come between the people and The Gods. They kept all the surplus of the land for themselves. They did not listen to the wise…”
“…to the wise such as yourself. You wanted less interference from the government so that the surpluses could be distributed more widely, less of it wasted. That’s fine.
But it still would have been distributed only to a wider circle of privileged people, with the people still having to work to create it and getting little benefit from it.”
“But a less oppressive government will allow traders and artisans to prosper, increasing the total wealth…”
“…the total wealth which a priveleged class would still take for themselves. Much like the ancient Tsil’tipac. For the society as a whole to prosper, the traders and artisans as well as the farmers and labourers must be able to benefit from what they produced.”
“But everyone works best when they are left alone…”
“A society works best when there is a competent government able to organize production and distribution to meet everyone’s needs.”
“But that way leads to…”
“…leads to despotism, say people who want to be despots, or if that isn’t possible, to at least be part of a privileged class. Good government actually gets in the way of that, which is why they try to convince everyone that government is the cause of all problems.”
The Oracle stopped briefly to wheeze, and then replied; “But the best way to have good government is to have a class of able people who can manage relations with The Gods, who can organize production and trade.”
Quenk continued to walk and talk. “A city lives better without a lot of fat and useless priests and middle men. The people can appoint managers, keep an eye on them, remove them when they are not doing their jobs properly.”
“But The Gods must be appeased so that they will continue to maintain a natural world for us to live in. Therefore we must have people schooled in the ways of The Gods…”
“In Azitiz, we sacrifice nothing, not a gerbil or a bag of beans, to the gods. Yet the sun keeps shining and the rain keeps falling.”
“But you are benefitting from the sacrifices we have made. And without sacrifice, people will not fear The Gods, will not work hard, will not obey the law.”
“…will not obey the rulers and their laws, because the rulers no longer decide who will be the next sacrifices.”
“…which is why, if sacral victims were chosen by lot, as I had proposed, the government of the Priests would be less oppressive.”
“…and of course, only the lower classes would get to play this lottery. But what happens when they decide they do not want to play the Priest/Ruler’s games?”
“But the people must learn to object to injustice in nonviolent ways.”
“Will the rulers respond to that in nonviolent ways?”
“But violence only leads to more…”
“…to more violence. Until it brings about justice which alone brings about peace.”
“But how can peace and justice come from violence?”
“How can peace and justice come from submission to despotism?”
“Moral persuasion is the most powerful force when held to!”
“Moral persuasion did not help you or your followers against Boombazl. He and his followers chose not to be persuaded. Your non violence obviously worked in his favour and against yours. So why did you persist?”
“Moral superiority always prevails in the end. It must be…”
“…held to until it works. Which is when? After you finally die? After hundreds have died following your example?”
“But virtuous sacrifice brings the approval of The Gods.”
“I say stupidly bringing harm on yourself and others brings only the contempt of The Gods. I do not think The Gods want sacrifices at all.
I think The Gods want the people to use their heads. To not let evil people rule them, but not to resist in futile and self destructive ways. To think, to plan, to organize, to overthrow injustice and construct a system that serves their needs .”
The Oracle wheezed again, and said; “The priests in many cities have shown that the earth is changing because people no longer honour The Gods. There is less rainfall now, …”
“…and the sun is dimmer? No. Our learned ones have climate records going back five k’atuns. The earth is the same as always. There are dry years and wet years. Yet this nonsense is heard in many cities in the middle land, always ones where people are trying to get rid of priests and sacrifices.
To return to the subject of self sacrifice; to seek attention, sympathy, pity in this way… shows something very wrong with a person’s mind. Worse, you have sacrificed a lot of people in your attention seeking…”
“But personal sacrifice is necessary to reveal The Truth which arrogant people want to keep hidden. The Gods wish The Truth to be told…”
The Oracle wheezed, hacked, and stumbled. One of his litter bearers pulled him upright and looked to Quenk for direction.
Quenk stopped. “…the gods wish The Truth to be told at all costs? Now you are also in charge of the truth. The truth told in the wrong way and at the wrong time and place gets innocent people killed.
But we have had this conversation three times now since we left the city.”
Quenk told the litter bearers; “Tie him to the litter. If he is too obnoxious, gag him.” He walked on.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
The caravan reached their evening halting place by a large well with hand driven pumps. There were a few roofed enclosures, but they were in disrepair.
Said the lead backpacker to Quenk; “It’ll rain later tonight. We must rig the canopies.”
“Do so.” said Quenk to the lead backpacker.
Quenk walked up to the edge of the forest and said to a large tree; “Hello again, Ich.”
Ich stepped from behind the tree, followed by some of her companions from the morning, and some new ones.
“Hello Quenk. Here is a leader among our bands of … forest dissidents… who I am sure you want to meet. Her name is Ch’klatl.”
“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Ch’klatl. Please stay for supper and conversations. All your friends are welcome as well.”
They all stayed for supper and conversations.
Quenk and his new friends sheltered under a canopy as night fell and the rain began.
Said Ch’klatl; “I’m glad you got rid of Boombazl and a good number of his minions. And freed our comrades. But why did you leave Angeass so quickly if your ultimate aim is to change the form of government?”
Quenk; “First, I didn’t have enough troops with me. But I do not have a mandate from the council of Azitiz to change your government. What I have is a mandate to force an end to sacrifice and cannibalism.
Changing the form of government will be a long process anyway. The people of Angeass must finally do it for themselves. Azitiz will assist you if you if you have the wisdom and the will.
I thought it best if, after shaking things up ever so slightly, I withdrew to see what effect I’d had. And, to let the people make their own decisions. And to not be seen as a mere foreign conqueror. And finally, to try to make contact with the dissidents who had been driven into the forest.”
Ch’klatl; “You did loot our treasury. What do you plan to do with all that wealth?”
Quenk; “This is the agreement I made with the council of Azitiz in order to get permission to undertake this. First the…loot… has to go to the treasury of Azitiz to be audited. The soldiers are to be paid their fair share. The packers must be paid a fair wage, and expenses covered. I have waived my share.
Then the balance must be deposited in the temple of Ikiw to fund the great project the priests there are overseeing. These priests are very different from your kind of priests.
The project is to drain the Marshes of Bel, to create new farmland, with canals, roads and cities. The poor of all the talk-right people of the middle land will be able to settle there. We will even give land to the talk-wrong people from the beyond lands, who are coming in and settling in the neutral zones.
You and your people can witness this process. It’s a good idea to take the funds away from your ruling class anyway. It just goes to pay thugs and snitches; those ‘eyes and ears’.”
Said Ich; “I still wonder if, instead of us all going to Azitiz, it would be better to stay in Angeass and try to establish a new government.”
Quenk; “There is no agreement among you about what form a new government would take; about basic principles. The followers of the Oracle are still active.”
“Yes,” said Ich; “I spent months in a cell listening to one of these idiots. She was one of those who followed The Oracle in demanding that ‘the truth’ be brought out, but she went too far and caused some real inconvenience to the priests, so…
But she is still in Angeass…feels obligated to continue…to try to… get herself sacrificed. She is angry about you;…violence…disharmony…”
“Do we have any of these pople on the march with us?”
“No. Our presence, the presence of real …dissidents, in your words. We discouraged them. Some of us were also marked for sacrifice. But there are some here who were, and still are, working for the priests, the Office of Eyes and Ears. ”
Ch’klatl; “And now they are under the next canopy. Maybe a visit to Azitiz will… open their eyes and ears…
But you’re right, Quenk. The opposition is not ready to form a government. What should be the longer term plans?”
“They have to be formed with the consent and participation of a legitimate opposition. These have to be sane and ethical people. I do not want to overthrow one despotism in order to replace it with another.
For now, it is likely that the followers of Boombazl and The Oracle will form an alliance to protect the established order; keep the lower classes in their place. I plan to return at the next alignment ritual with enough force to stop any sacrifices. Also, to silence all the… alternative realities… so that those with something realistic to propose to the normal people can speak without being howled down.”
Ch’klatk; “Yes, I think I will have something to propose to the real people by then.”
“I understand you are someone with some prestige among the lower classes of Angeass.”
“We are an old and respected family. We have a reputation for serving the common good. My father was a prominent councillor. He was one of the people betrayed by the Oracle and sacrificed.
My sister was sacrificed at the last alignment. She came under a truce to negotiate on behalf of we forest people. When they saw that she was not dumb enough to lead the rest of us into an ambush, they imprisoned her, tortured her for information…
They thought at first they had captured me.”
“I am sorry for you.
I have documents. The ones Oracle liked to wave around, and some other ones from the chancery of Angeass. I haven’t had a chance to read it over closely, but there seems to be documents related to your father which you may want to read.”
He hefted the leather case containing the bark papers. “It will rain until mid morning. We can read it together tomorrow, as soon as it is light.”
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
By mid morning the next day the rain had stopped and they had read most of the documents together. Ch’klatl was distraught and angry about what she had read.
“So it is as has been said, that this… self proclaimed Oracle…was given information by people who expected him to keep it in confidence until the time was right to act on it. People who misread him, thought he was sincere, …not acting out of a death wish, attention seeking… masochism…
A network was being built that could have removed these bad priests and create a better government. And he just …blew them! Blew them all! He didn’t even give them enough warning of what he was going to do so they could escape. Including my father…
Since then he has enlarged this cult around himself…talks this ‘speak truth to power’ nonsense…truth must be ‘out’ no matter what. Deludes people into getting themselves sacrificed for ‘truth’.
All this energy was spent trying to get Boombazl to let him go, instead of organizing to remove Boombazl, leaving Oracle to his fate. Boombazl would make this show of relenting about the Oracle, just before the knife came down, due to the crowd’s pleading, promising to consider…same show over and over.
Why was his life more important than the hundreds… hundreds sacrificed on altars because… ‘violence’ is not allowed, keeping secrets is not allowed…my sister, my friends…
I need to be alone for a little…”
She handed the folder back to Quenk and walked out into the still-dripping forest.
Ich asked; “Oracle is coming with us to Azitiz? I think he should die right now!”
Said Quenk; “I am sympathetic to your feelings about this. But let’s wait a day before deciding how to act.”
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
The next day, the caravan reached the bridge marking the border between Angeass territory and the south neutral zone, and crossed it to spread out into the midday halting place.
Quenk remained on the bridge. He ordered the Oracle’s litter bearers to release him. He gestured to the dissenters to stay by him. He held some cured meat from the commissary, wrapped in a leaf.
He said; “We are now outside Angeass jurisdiction, which will make these proceedings less legally problematic.”
The two whom Ich had identified as probable finks realized what was coming and went hastily back over the bridge.
Said The Oracle; “Azitizian! You mean to kill me so go ahead! I accept martyrdom! You will bring the wrath of The Gods down on yourself and your city! And on the apostates you have brought here! The Truth will finally prevail…!”
Said Quenk; “You make The Gods puke, Oracle. You have no interest in The Truth except as a weapon. No one knows what you really believe in because you do not seem to really believe in anything.
You talk a mess of mutually inconsistent and contradictory ideas. The only consistency is that nothing can be done which might effectively challenge the established order.
You seem to have no ideas substantially different from Boombazl and his lot. Clean and efficient government gets in the way of the ruling class extracting maximum benefit from those who work. These are just supposed to accept the will of The Gods as told them by the priests.
Your grievance with them was that they did not give you the status and prestige you feel entitled to. But you greatly overestimated the power which exposing their secrets would give you. Also, the power of this cult following which your glib… charisma built around you.
However, this charisma, and your death wish, masochism, and desire for adulation, allowed you to create a role for yourself within Boombazl’s system. This is one of the greatest follies of revolutionary groups; to become obsessed with a martyr.
A true revolutionary leader, when it is clear the authorities have him …or her…caged, tells his followers to forget him and to keep working toward the goal. You became this great attraction to divert and dissipate all energy.
And finally, Oracle, you’re really as dumb as those tree stumps.”
Quenk looked about to see the packers and Azitiz soldiers lined up on the riverbank to watch. On the opposite bank, from among the trees, the eyes and ears of the Eyes and Ears Office watched and listened.
He spoke again; “You Angeassians who were in peril because of your dissent; was this ‘Oracle’ ever a leader, a hero, to you?”
Said Ich; “All he did was prance around with his dink out, waving Boombazl’s dirty secrets over his head. Things we already knew or could guess.”
Said Ch’klatl; “What you say is true, Azitizian. When rulers become corrupt and despotic, exposing them is useless. When no one can do anything about them, they will simply retaliate…
Dissenters must quietly build their forces until they are ready to strike effectively. What the Oracle did made this much harder. What Azitiz has done has made it easier. I thank you.
But you are also right, Quenk, that a revolutionary movement must be organized around a clear vision of the new kind of society it wants. That is why it is useful that we dissenters go abroad for awhile, to see Azitiz, perhaps some other cities.”
Cried The Oracle; “But what gives you alone the right to alter the set order of things?”
“What gives you the right to ask that question?” Replied Ch’klatl.
Quenk; “We can take him to Azitiz. The council will likely lock him up for a few years until the situation in Angeass settles…”
Ch’klatl; “He would likely continue as an idol for the gutless ones of Angeass.”
Ich; “Let the Death Lords take him to Xibalba.”
Quench threw his chunk of cured meat into the water. ”So, is this a better idea?”
A flurry of small fins enveloped the meat and followed it as it sank down in the murky water.
All the potential candidates for sacrifice watched the water, then looked at each other. They turned back to Quenk and in unison, held out their hands with thumbs down.
Quenk nodded to The Oracle’s guards, who pushed him off the bridge.
He called after The Oracle; “You finally get your wish to be eaten by creatures with minds even smaller than your own.”
The Oracle made no sound on the way down. He was quickly enveloped by the small fins and roiling water. A red patch appeared in the water and grew as it floated under the bridge.
The packers and soldiers on the shore politely applauded. On the far shore, the two pairs of eyes and ears turned and headed back to Angeass to report.
Those on the bridge crossed to the other side as the red stain deepened and went with the current. The water became still as the object of the action sank down.
“I think that was done in good taste!” Said Ch’klatl.
The rest laughed softly and turned to go into the camp, where the cooks had begun preparing dinner.
Quenk; “I hope that doesn’t spoil anyone’s appetite.We still have four day’s march to reach Azitiz.
We can be back in half a year to continue realigning Angeass.”
