The Legend of Broken

‘half,’ or if it is derived from the Gothic halba, which shares the same meaning, or from some other term entirely undiscovered, we cannot answer with certainty — although it seems at least possible, given the ‘halving’ nature of the mutilation.”

† “… warriors will meet once more.” Gibbon writes, “In stating that many if not most of the tribes of the region surrounding Broken shared the faith that fallen warriors went on, in the afterlife, to a great hall where perpetual carousing and other indulgences were on offer, Arnem (and the tale’s narrator) spoke more truly — and presciently — than they likely knew, for it was not merely, or even especially, in Germany that this belief had taken root, by this time, and would become elaborated in centuries to come: Most schoolboys of our day are familiar with Valhalla, the Norse version of this myth; but, in truth, the idea pervaded many northern European ‘barbarian’ faiths, and not a few Eastern tribes, as well. On the other hand, there were also warrior cultures of the time that had little or no faith in an afterlife (for one example, consult the Beowulf Manuscript acquired several decades ago from Sir Robert Cotton during the founding of the British Museum), and which therefore placed all the more emphasis on a man’s achievements in this life, thinking that such was the only way to keep one’s name and spirit alive after death.”

† trouser “feet” During this period, it was common for European working classes to wear cloth pants that extended all the way down to encase even the toes, much like modern-day children’s pajamas with “feet,” to which these older garments have often been compared. Such covering obviated the need for “foot stockings,” or socks, but were often more vulnerable to wear and tear. —C.C.

† “‘the Lord God of the Lumun-jani’” Gibbon writes, “This is the first ambiguous reference to Christianity in the text. By the seventh or eighth century, nearly all the barbarian tribes, with the exceptions of a few small clans in discrete domains [including, evidently, Broken], had adopted what was by then the long-established state religion of Rome; and, as at least a few of the Bane must have come into contact with missionaries of that faith and other representatives of Rome — probably during their trading sessions in the Broken town of Daurawah — we can reasonably conclude that both Broken’s subjects and the Bane knew the general story of Jesus Christ, including the crucifixion, which is the subject of the Bane forager’s allusion, here.” Stated more graphically than Gibbon was apparently willing to do, we can assume that Heldo-Bah is declaring that Welferek’s being pinned to a tree with knives in a vaguely outstretched position resembles the most infamous ritual punishment inflicted on so many slaves and criminals by the Roman Empire. This underscores the point of how fluid the religious situation during the Barbarian Age was: as Gibbon says, Heldo-Bah would have been most likely to come across a crucifix in the Broken trading center of Daurawah, which the narrator has already spoken of his having visited. The fact that Gibbon let this remark go with only an explanatory comment was almost certainly a fruitless effort to keep Burke from reacting to the story in precisely the manner that he ultimately did. —C.C.

† “… patterns of profound complexity …” Again, we tend, today, to take the many uses that glass serves for granted; but if we remember that most of the tribes and kingdoms surrounding Broken had either lost the ability to create window glass, or, as in the case of nomadic tribes like the Huns, had never had any need for it, we can begin to get an idea of how little the narrator is exaggerating, here: light, in its various forms, was more than simply a source of illumination, during the period of Broken’s existence, and could, when cleverly used, inspire faith in one’s deity and confidence in the wisdom of one’s leaders. Oxmontrot would indeed have seen this process at work (in a number of ways) if he had been a mercenary in the employ of both the western and the eastern parts of the Roman Empire; and it is small wonder that he would have placed such emphasis on preserving and advancing the art of glassmaking in the kingdom that he founded. —C.C.

† “… a marble initiation font …” Gibbon writes, “The use of the words ‘marble initiation font’ may be taken by Christians less informed than yourself [that is, than Edmund Burke] as ‘proof’ that the Kafran religion was nothing more than a polluted form of their own faith; and, of course, certain similarities do exist. But, they are minor; and the more important aspect of the Kafrans’ use of ‘fonts’ and ‘altars’ is its reinforcement of the fact that, among the barbarian tribes of Europe during the Dark Ages, religion was in a state of near-constant turmoil and adaptation, a condition that saw Christians borrowing rites, holy days, and customs from pagans — and, more to the point (although far less popularly recognized), pagans doing the same with regard to Christianity. Thus, we can no more cite the existence of an ‘initiation font’ within the High Temple of Kafra as evidence of Christian influence than we can say that the original baptismal practices of early Christians were adapted from the ‘blood- baptisms’ of more than a few barbarian tribes, at least some of which took place in just such fonts and receptacles, which were often located in temples.” Gibbon, although attempting again to be tactful, cannot entirely suppress his own passionate feelings on the subject. Still, given his personal agnosticism and Edmund Burke’s repeated and public defenses of the Christian faith (even, in his Reflections on the Revolution in France, of Catholic Christianity), the above statement is an admirable if unsuccessful attempt at restraint. —C.C.

‡ “A small, circular piece of brass …” It should surprise no one to learn that the metalworkers of Broken, as well as those of the Bane, were capable of producing such alloys as brass, bronze, and steel (although the Bane were, of course, laboring with far less advanced equipment than was available in Broken, and therefore were unable, up to the time of these events, to achieve the kind of alloys that were available to their enemies). The mountains of the area, as has been noted several times, are rich in all the ores necessary to produce these important materials, or rather, they were, at the time: again, the originally plentiful deposits were exhausted relatively early in the Industrial Age. —C.C.

† Atta Pass Gibbon would have been unable to do more than guess at the full meaning of this name, which is perhaps why it goes unnoted by him. Now, however, we can reliably translate atta as one of many Gothic terms for “father,” this one in the sense of “forefather”—but it may also have been intended, in the case of such an important and deadly physical location as this mountain pass, to carry a religious interpretation; and, while any reference to a masculine deity may at first make us think of Kafra, the state of religious flux that dominated Europe (even, to some extent, in and around Broken) at the time poses intriguing alternative interpretations, and suggestions of the Christian “Father” who is more familiar to us today — and whose faith was spreading throughout the Germanic tribes. —C.C.

‡ “‘… dwarfish exiles …’” Obviously, given the repeated explanations of the Bane’s height as having not been, in the main, a result of dwarfism, references on the part of anyone in Broken — especially Lord Baster-kin — to “misshapen dwarves” must be taken as a slur. They also offer consistent reinforcement of the fact that the Bane were not de facto dwarves, at least in the main: had they been, “dwarf- ish” would hardly have been such a common insult used in reference to them. We return, then, to the notion of “miniature” human beings, as well as the more likely question of genetic adaptation. — C.C.

† “‘… the Varisians with their longboats …’” Gibbon writes, “Once again, we must consider the words Frankesh and Varisian to be, like Torganian, mere phonetic approximations: the first for ‘Franks,’ or more precisely, the ‘Frankish,’ tribes who, as I have said, may already have driven the Torganians (‘Thuringians’) from the region south of Broken. Varisian, meanwhile, is clearly another such approximation, this one for ‘Frisian,’ a northern tribe notorious for their sea and river raiding.”

† “‘… our enemies.” It is important to understand that this discussion of torture, while it may seem anachronistic, is anything but, if one understands the history of warfare in any sort of detail. The torture of enemy combatants and noncombatants, and the question of whether any useful information gleaned by such methods outweighs the risk to the soldiers and people of the torturing side, is hardly unique to our own era: it is, in fact, at least as old as the Roman Empire, where it was debated in much the same fashion as it is today. The arguments have resurfaced regularly throughout Western history ever since; and we should therefore not be surprised to find it cropping up in these pages. Indeed, Gibbon himself is so familiar with it, apparently, that he does not even deem it worthy of mention. —C.C.

† the Lenthess-steyn Gibbon writes: “I must repeat, would that we had sufficient knowledge of the Broken dialect to comprehend the meaning of every phrase, particularly some of the most obscure yet revealing. One such is this place where the healers among the Bane, who appear to have been skilled in the use of herbs and the extracts of forest plants, did their noble and comforting work, and also, apparently, achieved advances in the knowledge of anatomy that religious superstition prevented in more ‘advanced’ societies and tribes — Galen himself [the father of Roman and, many believe, Western medicine] would have envied their freedom, in this regard!” Gibbon’s frustration over the lack of a precise translation perhaps