Alair, the ruler of Zaxtl, sent a present unto his enemy, the
neighboring King Luud. Now such an act was unlike Alair, and had not
pleasant omens. For more than a decade they had waged bitter warfare,
and therefore Luud was not a little surprised to see the crimson lotus
on a field of _argent_ displayed before his gates. The messengers
came unguarded in their glittering robes, and when the portcullis
was withdrawn, they ascended the steps before the throne and made
obeisance. The guards of Luud would have fain drawn wary swords,
but the king signalled withdrawal, that he might hearken onto the
emissaries.
Their gift was brought in by swarthy slave men. It proved a
mani-colored flower of alien aspect, whose aromatic perfumes spread
langorously through the room. Alair had sent no message save to state
cryptically that here was the ruler of plants, the Flower-God, and Luud
preferred not to ask the reason for this strange and lovely gift. So
it was he made a long and eloquent speech of surpassing insincerity,
claiming friendship between the countries, and when they had left,
he set artizans constructing a dais. When this had been done, the
Flower-God was set upon it in a jewel-encrusted trough; where he might
lift his eyes from affairs of state and gaze upon it. And it was
admired by the entire court. Only Gra, the counsellor, would have been
unwilling to accept it, but he was not heeded.
But the land soon found there was something amiss, for gossip spread
thru-out that a madness had come upon the king. He would lock himself
in with the flower for days in succession and be oddly exhilarated
upon resuming his customary life. Whispers were that he was drugged
or hypnotized by the strange plant, that he performed odd and ancient
rites before it--rites that were not good and were avoided by even
necromancers. Truly, he had developed an abnormal passion for it, and
there were obviously mysterious happenings afoot. In time, he was
observed to make unwise decisions after he had been alone with the
Flower-God, and he would pause in the midst of trite affairs and go
over to it, lovingly strolling the tendrils and closing his eyes as if
listening. But there was nothing audible save the rustle of the vibrant
petals.
The country did not improve through these unusual activities. Affairs
assumed a turbulent state; lawlessness prevailed. After a time, the
traitorous openly denounced Luud, and there were few who did not
sympathize. Those bolder even went so far as to suggest that Alair,
the adjacent ruler, rule in his stead. But the king seemed entirely
apathetic regarding this, or anything save the Flower-God and its
unholy lure.
Meanwhile, Alair waited, smiling.
Had not the venerable Chancellor, Gra, chosen to intervene, the land
would have fast gone to ruin. But he was wise, and took heed of the
ultrasensual lure the blossom held for his ruler. Therefore, he saw the
futility of attempting to restrain or interfere in any ordinary manner,
and consequently resolved upon action that would forever break the
reign of the unholy plant. In fine, he determined to destroy the Lord
of Flowers.
Having made his plans, the following day he noiselessly entered the
throne-room, with a long grim knife concealed beneath his scarlet
robe. The king did not heed him, for he was enthralled, beyond human
affairs. But the plant sensed the presence of the intruder, and perhaps
it half-knew his purpose, for the fleshy leaves writhed animatedly,
and the green spines stood erect. Yet it did not arouse the entranced
supplicant, and the hundred little viper tongues could not ward off the
blows of the blade that Gra wielded so judiciously. The swollen blossom
was rent and gashed in numberless places before the emperor became
aware of it. It was too late then, for great yellow drops of sickening
ickor slowly coursed down the drooping vines and the bloom itself was
purpling fast.
Then it was the king staggered a moment and stared long at his
Chancellor in a dazed manner. And Gra was thankful, for the light of
madness was dying out, even as the plant faded.
The Flower-God was dead.
* * * * *