The Perfect Incarnation

8/2/2019 The Perfect Incarnation

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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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The Perfect Incarnation