The Flower God
by R. H. Barlow
Annals of the Jinns—6
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 The messengers came unguarded in their glittering robes, and when the portcullis was withdrawn, they ascended the steps before the throne and made obeisance.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.