Lord of Light

The Shan was a tall man, but his posture was considerably hunched. He wore maroon robes and a dark turban reaching down almost to his great, caterpillar-like eyebrows, which were the color of milk. His beard was a snowy bush, his teeth shown as dark stumps when he laughed and his lower eyelids jutted redly, as though sore and weary after so many years of holding back his bloodshot orbs in their obvious attempt to push themselves forward out of their sockets. He laughed a phlegmy laugh and pounded the table, repeating, "Elephants are too expensive these days, and no damn good at all in mud!" for the sixth time; this being in reference to their conversation as to the best time of year to fight a war. Only one very new in the business would be so boorish as to insult a neighbor's ambassador during the rainy season, it was decided, and that one would thereafter be marked as a nouveau roi.

As the evening wore on, the prince's physician excused himself so as to superintend the preparation of the dessert and introduce a narcotic into the sweetcakes being served up to the Shan. As the evening wore further on, subsequent to the dessert, the Shan grew more and more inclined to close his eyes and let his head slump forward for longer and longer periods of time. "Good party," he muttered, between snores, and finally, "Elephants are no damn good at all. . ." and so passed to sleep and could not be awakened. His kinsmen did not see fit to escort him home at this time, because of the fact that the prince's physician had added chloral hydrate to their wine, and they were at that moment sprawled upon the floor, snoring. The prince's chief courtier arranged with Hawkana for their accommodation, and the Shan himself was taken to Siddhartha's suite, where he was shortly visited by the physician, who loosened his garments and spoke to him in a soft, persuasive voice:

"Tomorrow afternoon," he was saying, "you will be Prince Siddhartha and these will be your retainers. You will report to the Hall of Karma in their company, to claim there the body which Brahma has promised you without the necessity of prior judgment You will remain Siddhartha throughout the transfer, and you will return here in the company of your retainers, to be examined by me. Do you understand?"

"Yes," whispered the Shan.

"Then repeat what I have told you."

'Tomorrow afternoon," said the Shan, "I will be Siddhartha, commanding these retainers. . ."

Bright bloomed the morning, and debts were settled beneath it. Half of the prince's men rode out of the city, heading north. When they were out of sight of Mahartha they began circling to the southeast, working their way through the hills, stopping only to don their battle gear.

Half a dozen men were dispatched to the Street of the Smiths, whence they returned bearing heavy canvas bags, the contents of which were divided into the pouches of three dozen men who departed after breakfast into the city.

The prince took counsel with his physician, Narada, saying, "If I have misjudged the clemency of Heaven, then am I cursed indeed."

But the doctor smiled and replied, "I doubt you misjudged."

And so they passed from morning into the still center of day, the Ridge of the Gods golden above them.

When their charges awakened, they ministered to their hangovers. The Shan was given a posthypnotic and sent with six of Siddhartha's retainers to the Palace of the Masters. His kinsmen were assured that he remained sleeping in the prince's quarters.

"Our major risk at this point," said the physician, "is the Shan. Will he be recognized? The factors in our favor are that he is a minor potentate from a distant kingdom, he has only been in town for a short period of time, has spent most of that time with his kinsmen and he has not yet presented himself for judgment. The Masters should still be unaware of your own physical appearance —"

"Unless I have been described to them by Brahma or his priest," said the prince. "For all I know, my communication may have been taped and the tape relayed to them for identification purposes."

"Why, though, should this have been done?" inquired Narada. "They should hardly expect stealth and elaborate precautions of one for whom they are doing a favor. No, I think we should be able to pull it off. The Shan would not be able to pass a probe, of course, but he should pass surface scrutiny, accompanied as he is by your retainers. At the moment, he does believe he is Siddhartha, and he could pass any simple lie-detection test in that regard—which I feel is the most serious obstacle he might encounter."

So they waited, and the three dozen men returned with empty pouches, gathered their belongings, mounted their horses and one by one drifted off through the town, as though in search of revelry, but actually drifting slowly in a southeasterly direction.