(NOTE: This folktale contains implausibilities, anachronisms, and other inaccuracies. It wouldn't be a folktale if it didn't.)
A long time before the off-worlders came, in the back hills of the Dendarii District there lived a young boy. As he grew to manhood, he looked at the Vor around him, and thought them a poor lot. "Why should these louts be called Vor, and I have to bow to them, instead of them to me?", he asked himself.
Now, he wasn't so foolish as to speak these words aloud, for in that long-ago, any Vor might kill any plebian he chose, and you may be sure that all of them had swords at their hips. So, he left his village, and walked for a day and a night, and came to Vorbarr Sultana, and there he came to the Old Palace, with its domes and arches and torii gates, all so cunningly contrived that it seemed that it might float away on the breeze at any moment.
Now, the boy well knew what Vor were, but he thought that the distant Emperor would not be as other men, so he had no hesitancy about walking up to a postern and banging on the gate. When it was opened, it was by an old man, seamed and scarred, no doubt a veteran of the Emperor's many wars.
"What do you want here, lad?" he asked. The boy answered, "Uncle, I want to ask the Emperor, long may he reign, to make me a Vor."
The old man grimaced. "Lad," he said, "I'd do you ask, but the courtyard is full of bullies over whom I have no control, and they'll beat and kill anyone who tries to come through here." He stepped aside to let the boy see for himself, and you may be sure that he was only speaking the truth. The courtyard was full of coarse-faced men, armed with clubs and flails and every sort of weapon.
The boy said sadly, "I see that you are only speaking the truth, and I could never fight with so many armed bullies". So he turned and walked back to his village. There, he found the man who taught swordsmanship to the Vor, and said to him, "Excellent sir, please teach me swordsmanship that I may better serve the Emperor, long may he reign." The man scowled and said, "I may not teach a plebian boy, but you may stand in the back of the class, and learn what you may."
The boy did that every day for a year, and became a mighty and cunning swordsman. He borrowed a pair of swords, and walked for a day and a night to Vorbarr Sultana, and again demanded entrance to the Old Palace. When he entered the courtyard, the bullies rushed at him, but he struck out left and right, and so cowed them with his swordsmanship that they slunk back to the walls in fear.
The boy walked across the courtyard, and found another gate. He knocked at it, and it was opened by another old man, as seamed and scarred as the first.
"What do you want here, lad?" he asked. The boy answered, "Uncle, I want to ask the Emperor, long may he reign, to make me a Vor."
The old man grimaced. "Lad," he said, "I'd do what you ask, but the courtyard here is filled with scholars over whom I have no control, and they'll ask so many abstruse questions of anyone who tries to come through here that he would fall on his sword from embarassment." He stepped aside to let the boy see for himself, and you may be sure that he was only speaking the truth. The courtyard was full of men in academic gowns, and they spoke in English and French and Greek, none of which the boy knew, but even of the Russian conversation he could not make head nor tail.
The boy said sadly, "I see that you are only speaking the truth, and I could never dispute with so many scholars". So he turned and walked back to his village. There, he found the man who taught many skills to the Emperor's servants, and said to him, "Learned sir, please teach me your skills that I may better serve the Emperor, long may he reign." The man scowled and said, "I may not teach a plebian boy, but you may stand in the back of the class, and learn what you may."
The boy did that every day for a year, and became a deep and learned scholar. He walked for a day and a night to Vorbarr Sultana, and again demanded entrance to the Old Palace. When he entered the first courtyard, the bullies remembered him, and slunk back to the walls in fear. When he entered the second courtyard, the scholars swarmed around him, and asked many pointed questions in every language, but he answered them all shrewdly and asked clever questions of his own, until they slunk back to the walls in embarrassment.
The boy walked across the courtyard, and found another gate. He knocked at it, and it was opened by a third old man, as seamed and scarred as the first two.
"What do you want here, lad?" he asked. The boy answered, "Uncle, I want to ask the Emperor, long may he reign, to make me a Vor."
The old man grimaced. "Lad," he said, "I'd do what you ask, but the courtyard here is filled with the dead and their funeral offerings, which have become mixed up, and there's no one who can make things right and proper, and anyone who tried and failed would be killed by the dissatisfied ghosts." He stepped aside to let the boy see for himself, and you may be sure that he was only speaking the truth. The courtyard was full of corpses, and their funeral offerings, and wood for the burning, too; but all was piled haphazardly, and there was no telling what had been meant for whom.
The boy said sadly, "I see that you are only speaking the truth, and I could never make so many things right and proper". So he turned and walked back to his village. There, he found the oldest old men, and said to them, "Venerable sirs, please teach me your wisdom that I may better serve the Emperor, long may he reign." The men scowled and said, "We may not teach any boy, let alone a plebian boy, but you may stand to one side, and learn what you may from our conversation".
The boy did that every day for a year, and became very wise indeed. He walked for a day and a night to Vorbarr Sultana, and again demanded entrance to the Old Palace. When he entered the first courtyard, the bullies remembered him, and slunk back to the walls in fear. When he entered the second courtyard, the scholars remembered him, and slunk back to the walls in embarrassment. When he entered the third courtyard, he immediately began to sort to the funeral offerings, and gave to each man and woman what was right and proper, and burned the offerings then and there. And the columns of smoke from the burnings rose and drifted to the walls, showing that each soul was satisfied with what had been given it.
When he had done all this, he crossed the courtyard, and knocked on the gate. This gate was opened by a man wearing the Imperial livery, who asked him what he would have.
The boy bowed to him (for he knew what was right and proper) and said, "Sir, I would see the Emperor, long may he reign, and ask him to make me a Vor".
The servant gestured for him to follow, and took him a long corridor to where the Emperor sat in state on his camp stool. The Emperor was a terrible seeming old man, as seamed and scarred as any of his servants from his many wars, and his right arm was missing, for it had been hacked off many years before.
The Emperor fixed his eyes on the boy and said, "So, plebian, why have you come before Us?" The boy fell to his knees and said, "May it please Your Imperial Majesty, I have come to ask you to make me a Vor".
"What", roared the Emperor, "you come to ask that? That rascal at the first gate must have shown you a secret way in!" "No, Your Majesty, I fought my way past the bullies." "Then, that scoundrel at the second gate must have shown you a secret way in!" "No, Your Majesty, I disputed my way past the scholars." "Surely, that knave at the third gate must have shown you a secret way in!" "No, Your Majesty, I gave to the dead what was right and proper."
The terrible old Emperor looked at him more closely, and suddenly smiled. "So, you fought your way past the bullies, did you? Well, a man who shows such strength and courage in battle ought certainly to be a Vor. And you disputed your way past the scholars, did you? Well, a man so deeply learned ought to be set above the other Vor in his district, and be made Count. And you gave to the dead what was right and proper, did you? Well, such a wise man is of more value at my side than the arm I lost in battle. Tell me, lad, what is your name?"
"Pavel Kosigan", the boy answered.
"No more", said the Emperor. "Henceforth you are Count Pavel Vorkosigan, the Emperor's Right Arm."
© 2002 by John W. Braue, III (braue@ratsnest.win.net)
Current version by Michael Bernardi, mike@dendarii.co.uk
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Last updated: June 20th 2002