Fictive Kings

I.

There is freedom in slavery to a kind master. But most often one does not choose him. One is bought, and sold, given as a present. As one gives robes and mantles, heads of cattle to a king peace would have us befriend; some nations add youths, trained in the virile arts, and able-bodied female slaves.

Some slaves are born to slaves, but most were once free.


II.

Many crowns are worn in the Isle of Cats. The cats worship no gods. The victims offer themselves, or are taken without asking. King and queen are those who would call themselves such, though few of them should have a name but the scent of their cheek. With this they will sign what is theirs, and no more. Many more will disrespect the mark, and claim the object for their own. This to no disturbance in the social order.

The Isle of Cats rounds hardly ten miles, square. So the little lions must live in tolerance of each other, or be flung into the sea.

If you ask your guide if you are dreaming, she will cut you across the cheek. You will continue to doubt the sight before hand.

A white queen rubs her head to your palm. She is asking you to take her off this island. Her eyes are one green and the other blue, so she is deaf in one ear. The lady is clean, but she cannot be young. The teeth betray her three years.

She does not tell you that if you leave her she must die.

Pray you do not tarry on this port, or you will see the young cats die. The mothers take them to the dock and leave them, hoping that a kind soul may pick them, and take them to the ships. But more often they are used as bait, or die of hunger, being too young. Meanwhile the mother expects to live one more year. It is uneconomic to give suck, and give life -- work enough for one's own.

Rare are these among all cats to take up the rattsey custom. When times are rough, which is each time, they will sup on their own without ceremony.


III.

Before the king is given to the bowel of the bog, he is symbolically deprived of his name and his humanity. He is made to wear the skin of the animal, and so becomes it. It is the skin of a deer; othertimes, of a dog. It is the executor's choice whether to use the rope or the iron knife. But it is the king who first chooses to die, as his people's most valuable possession.

The people are given life in exchange for his, if the gods see that there has been, indeed, a sacrifice. The offering of a craven, or an unpromising king is counted for naught. And it is not rare for the gods, instead, to take offence at such a mean gift. Less fortunate they who offer jewels, or ointments brought from abroad, for the gods desire only for food and drink. The vanities of man and woman do not fulfill them. Sooner they take a red bead, or the promise of a great deed.