Murphy's Law - 6. Anointing the Sick

Nevertheless, the Harpies continue to treat Clan Murphy as if they were nothing more than one of the infinite number of false clans. And as time goes by the mysterious sound becomes less and less mysterious. It is clearly the sound of combat. The nearby daytime combat still drowns it out but shouts and screams echo through the star-filled, balmy nights. In days previous one unidentifiable feature between the day sounds and the night sounds was the screeching of the Harpies but now that difference is no more. Now the sole difference is the very disturbing and obvious fact that the nighttime fighting is more frantic than daytime fighting.

As the sound waxes so does the sharp odor. Everywhere Murphy looks he sees people rubbing and even holding their noses in order to halt at least temporarily the penetrating stench. The number of Harpies has also increased and now every clan has developed methods to prevent the theft of their food. Inside the circles of women the children keep a sharp eye in the air above and wave their arms to shoo away prospective attackers. At dinner time the children no longer place food on the women's rumps to be taken later by a breeder. Now they wait until the breeder's hand is there, ready. In conveying the food to the men the breeders cover it with both hands and hold it close to their bodies. In eating, men and breeders hunch over their meals, darting eyes ever alert.

There is also gradual change in the local combat. Earlier in the life of Clan Murphy fighting was desultory becoming intense only during a raid. Now the clans between Murphy's and whatever it is that is approaching them are picking up the pace, becoming more savage in their attempts to withstand the push of the clans more distal.

To Murphy's knowledge the word "Hellmouth" has been uttered only once recently, by Watt, in their last conversation. Now suddenly it is everywhere. As with the whispering and the identification of the Harpies it is impossible to trace how this happens. One day the word is heard nowhere, the next everywhere. The clans further along in that direction have seen it, or so it is said, and that's what they say it is. The Harpies, they say, are just a foretaste of what is to come.

As ever, Murphy remains staunch in his conviction that whatever is going on will not affect his clan, the One True Clan – as long as they follow the Law. And that does worry him for he sees the unrest of his people as the word finds its way to every ear. Everyone is anxious, every eye is fearful, every back bowed, every brow furrowed. Every brow but one. It would not be accurate to say that Watt is unconcerned, but his attitude is certainly far different than anyone else's. Watt alone seems eager to see, hear, smell more. Watt cannot get enough of whatever it is that is approaching. He listens attentively, he fills his lungs with the tangy air, he studies constantly the Harpies. Murphy knows he has to do something with his former Priest. Is he a Mad One? He doesn't Rock or Tree or Run but he certainly behaves oddly and, worst of all, it is clear to Murphy, and to Pozzo, that Watt Doubts. Still, however, Watt holds his place in line and what with the daily combat growing in intensity warriors are not easily replaced. Murphy decides he will confer with Pozzo regarding Watt. Warriors may be at a premium but being pure is of paramount importance.

One day Murphy sees something he's never seen before. Off in the distance, several clans away, he sees what looks like an absurdly tall man. He assumes it is a Mahaf sitting on a warrior's shoulders condemning a sinner from "on high", but something about what he is seeing doesn't fit that hypothesis. Then he realizes what is odd: it is not a Mahaf, it's a breeder. What in the world, he wonders. Why would a Mahaf put a breeder onto a man's shoulders? The breeder is looking toward the noise and gesticulating. Almost within moments Murphy begins to see more breeders in what must be several clans being mounted on shoulders. They clearly see something and Murphy has no doubt that something is the source of the ubiquitous noise and stench. Those breeders are describing what they see to their Mahafs. A Mahaf himself could not do this as the only time a Mahaf ever mounts a man's shoulders is the rare and solemn Offscouring ritual. Over the ensuing days the advance of this mysterious something can be easily charted simply by seeing how each day these mounted breeders get closer and closer to Clan Murphy. Finally, it happens in the clans immediately between Murphy and the noise. Watt looks over at Murphy, clearly wanting to adopt the same technique but Murphy glares his disapproval. That night Watt seeks through Pozzo an audience with Murphy and requests not that a boy be hoisted aloft but that he, Watt, be the one to observe the strange happenings. Murphy refuses though he's not sure why, but he mutters something about the One True Clan being different and not having to be concerned about such matters. Watt reminds Murphy that the Harpies treat clan Murphy just as they treat every other clan. As near as he can tell, Watt declares he can find no difference between their situation and that of any other clan in the area. Murphy tells Watt this is a trial the Unnamable is setting them to test their faith and warns Watt he is coming dangerously close to Doubt and that is something neither he nor the clan can tolerate. Watt returns to his place in line clearly dissatisfied. The very next day he does the unthinkable.

It is during evening meal. A breeder brings Watt his allotment of food. It happens that Murphy is at that very moment watching Watt and he sees Watt toss a piece of it onto the ground near where Molloy and Moran are. Murphy sees that these two warriors are not relaxing as is the custom at this time of day. They are not lying around or chatting or tending their weapons. No, Murphy sees they are lying in wait. So too is Watt after having tossed his bit of food. Before Murphy can fathom this behavior a Harpy swoops down to snatch up the morsel and all three men pounce on it. Murphy shouts but to no avail. The men have it in their hands. The Harpy squawks and struggles to break free but Molloy and Moran hold it fast. Then Watt seizes it by the neck and gives a quick wrench and the Harpy goes limp.

Murphy turns to find Pozzo, orders him to bring the three men to him, then turns back to find, to his horror, that Watt has cut the Harpy open and is peering into its entrails. Pozzo rushes off yelling. Watt turns, looks over his shoulder at Pozzo. Molloy and Moran look up at Pozzo. Then all three pairs of eyes turn to Murphy. The Big Mahaf sees in their faces that they have seen and understood his own dark visage. The three follow Pozzo to Murphy's throne and grovel, Watt the whole time clinging to his heinous prize. Murphy sees this action has not gone unnoted by the surrounding clans. Many follow the proceedings closely and Murphy is especially annoyed to see his rival of recent days, the tall Mahaf with the long red nose in the next clan in that direction, also watching.

"What have you done?" he growls, turning to the three men at his feet.

They make no reply. Murphy ponders the situation. All must be punished, everyone in his clan and the others must see the punishment, yet there's a limit to what he can do since he needs Molloy and Moran, needs them desperately. The days ahead promise to be filled with more combat than Clan Murphy has ever before seen and these two are his best warriors. He beckons to Pozzo, whispers to him. Pozzo bows and takes Molloy and Moran to another corner of the square where he has them get down on all fours and while they eat shit off the ground he repeatedly kicks their asses. Murphy watches and at the same time surreptitiously eyes the onlookers who seem satisfied. Murphy also is secretly monitoring the sunset, stalling for time. He wants to deal with Watt after dark.

Just before total nightfall Murphy clears his throat and Pozzo relents. The chastened warriors crawl to their places in line while Pozzo returns to Murphy. In the inky black now Murphy gathers his thoughts but is interrupted by faint sounds nearby. Was that a tearing sound? And now – is that chewing?

"Watt," he hisses. "What are you doing?"

"I'm eating its heart," says Watt.

Murphy hears a sharp intake of breath – Pozzo.

Murphy groans.

"See?" says Watt swallowing. "They're edible. You can eat them."

Murphy is horrified.

"Why would I eat a Harpy?" he asks aghast.

"So you don't have to eat people."

Murphy is completely flummoxed. Watt has clearly gone Mad and can no longer be harvested. He will have to be anointed and even then Murphy can only pray he hasn't waited too long. It's all his fault. He let it go and let it go and now clearly this Mad One is the reason clan Murphy is in this predicament. Clearly this is why the Harpies treat clan Murphy as they do every other clan. Clan Murphy has not lived by the Law, has not been the One True Clan and it's all his, Murphy's, fault. But he knows now what he must do. With Watt at least. What to do with the Harpy is another story. The Harpy must be taboo, which means all who touched it must be cleansed. Of course Watt doesn't matter as he will be anointed but Molloy and Moran will need to be purified. Murphy's immediate concern, though, is how to dispose of that damned Harpy. If he has Pozzo take it from Watt then Pozzo too will be contaminated.

"Watt," he says. "Throw away the Harpy."

"Why?" cries Watt. "It's food!"

Murphy hears more ripping and chewing.

"Pozzo," he says. "Get Molloy and Moran."

Pozzo rushes off.

"Watt," says Murphy. "Stop it! Do you hear me? Stop that chewing!"

"You damned fool!" says Watt. "Open your ears! You can eat them! That makes it possible."

"Makes what possible?" asks Murphy. But before Watt can answer Murphy says, "No! Don't answer, I don't want to hear it!"

And now Pozzo returns with Molloy and Moran.

Moran," says Murphy. "You hold Watt while Molloy takes the Harpy from him."

There is a scuffle in the dark but soon Molloy reports he has the Harpy.

"Throw it as far as you can," says Murphy and Molloy moves away. A moment later there's a brief ruckus a few clans away.

"These two need to be cleansed," says Murphy to Pozzo and the Priest slinks off with the two warriors.

Now it is just Murphy and Watt. Murphy can hear Watt quietly sobbing.

"Kill me like the other," says Watt.

"What other?" asks Murphy.

"All the others," comes the muffled reply.

"Return to ranks," says Murphy.

Next morning, just before Matins, acting on a signal from Murphy, three men seize Watt, beat him thoroughly, and tumble him into the circle of women. Throughout the day the women and children anoint him. They piss, shit, and spit on him; the children shove handfuls of slime down his throat, up his nose, and into his ears; the women make little parabolic gashes in his skin, stuff roaches, flies, and maggots into the wounds, then sew them back up. In the evening, to the usual accompaniment of the music of the Unnamable, Watt is dragged before Murphy who addresses the victim angrily. The Great One quickly works himself up and soon produces a knife. He begins to contest mightily with invisible demons. He twists and turns, kicks and bites, stabs, snarls, and at one point through some sort of legerdemain manages to streak his knife with the blood of his supernatural assailants. At length he subsides, exhausted but flushed with victory. The evil spirits are now dead he tells the men, and lying about him on the ground. Immediately the men scoop up handfuls of muck and smear it on Watt. Finally, Murphy informs everyone that the area is now cleansed and the men step back. The Big Mahaf hauls himself to his feet as Molloy approaches draped in an insulating human pelt. Molloy squats, Murphy straddles his shoulders and Molloy straightens up, his Mahaf aloft. Murphy looks down from his perch at the kneeling Watt.

"Go!" he shouts, pointing. "Be thou our offscouring!"

When Watt doesn't move, Murphy shouts, "Go I say! Get thee hence!" Then to the men around him he gives the curt order, "Drive him!"

Some of the men drag Watt to his feet, then several prod him with their knifes and short spears. Watt edges away and the men redouble their efforts. "Run!" they shout. "Run!"

Watt turns and runs. He bolts through the clan adjoining and the one after that. None of the members of these clans try to bring him down for he is taboo, infected with the sins of another clan. Under normal circumstances he would eventually collapse and soon starve to death. The clan in which he ended up would reform itself around him and he would live his remaining days between the lines of men, shunned by all. In this case, however, Watt, whether by accident or design, runs straight to that which is approaching and which Murphy has yet to fully admit to himself is the Hellmouth, and it is with this last act he finally succeeds in breaking through Murphy's wall of denial. For in watching Watt run Murphy at long last sees what is down there.