FOREWORD
Though the immense riches of the mines of Reschora and Kelcestre have by now made it one of the wealthiest countries on earth, the Republic of Rockall remains remarkably little known. Its unique flora and fauna arouse profound interest among naturalists and its rocks condition the thinking of geologists about the structure of the whole North Atlantic basin; yet few naturalists or geologists have been fortunate enough to visit this sea-girt realm.
Indeed, Rockall is in many ways an unusual country. Its eight-house parliament is a model for study by political scientists, yet the operations of that parliament are little understood in other democracies and nowhere emulated. It continues to rely upon animal power and steam haulage for road and rail transportation and employs battery-powered helicopters for emergency services and for recreation. Petroleum is used only to power long-distance aeroplanes. Yet surely so wealthy a country could readily afford to import petroleum for surface transport also? Its refusal to do so has long been thought an inexplicable eccentricity. Only now, as world petroleum resources diminish, is that refusal coming to seem wise, even admirable.
Of all European countries, Rockall has the fewest roads, the most green countryside, the most benign and unspoiled shores, the least trodden and most challenging mountains; yet of all countries, it welcomes tourists from abroad least. Yes, exchange rates against the stable Rockalese currency are extremely high, but that is not the major problem. Rather it is that the Rockalese are so self-contained and so contented a people. They are not great travellers themselves, for they like their own land too well to feel obliged to visit others. Nor do they see any need to allow their land to be submerged by tourists. Why should they be subjected to the tiresome demands and unacceptable prejudices of foreigners, when they are wealthy enough to need neither Deutschmarks nor dollars to prop up their economy? Why allow their shores and mountains to be spoiled by high-rise hotels, constructed merely for the accommodation of strangers? Of all visas, that for Rockall is perhaps hardest to obtain; and thus is the peace of that land protected.
Geographically, Rockall is the farthest-flung of European countries, isolated by the turbulent Atlantic from the expansionist ambitions of kings and the greedy philosophies of clerics and republics. Even during the present century, Rockall has remained a country apart. The First World War certainly produced serious upheavals in the nascent republic, yet outside involvements were very largely avoided; and whilst, in the Second World War, Rockall did play a major role in the struggle against the fascist powers, afterwards it withdrew again within its own bounds. It gives financial support generously to United Nations projects; but Rockall is rarely active in that political arena and, indeed, keeps as much detached from world politics as can be contrived. Thus, whilst other Europeans, arriving as settlers or as fugitives, have played so prominent a role in the history of Rockall, the Rockalese scarcely figure at all in that of the rest of Europe. In consequence, in histories of the continent of which it is the westernmost part, Rockall receives scant attention.
Yet in the National Library of its capital, Rockall Peak, and in the ancient archives of the castle of Sandarro, there are to be found many dramatic and remarkable stories of heroism and adventure. Most of them, to be sure, are written in the difficult languages of that land and have not hitherto been translated into more familiar tongues. To those libraries, I am fortunate enough to have been granted access; and it is my aim, in this book and any that may come after, to retell some of those stories.
That which follows is taken from a lengthy manuscript appended to one of the Sandastrian Books of the Years--that long series of volumes spanning over fifteen hundred years and unrivalled, as a continuous record, by the archives of any other country. The manuscript was written by an Englishman, yet he wrote in the Sandastrian language and characters that had become familiar to him. To translate it into the English of his day would be as artificial as, and much more difficult than, rendering it in our modern tongue. Consequently I have adopted the latter course, though I have retained mediaeval words that have no close modern equivalents and have striven to avoid inappropriate images.
I have employed English equivalents to Rockalese words, wherever such exist; thus "Rockalese" is used instead of Rokalnen, "Sandastrian" and "Baroddan" instead of Sandastren and Baroddnen, "Fachane and Fachnese" instead of Fakhhayin and Fakhniis, and so forth. I have done my translating informally and have at times inserted explanations or descriptions that the writer omitted; yet I shall tell the story in the first person, as he did, so that Rockall and his adventures there may be viewed through his eyes.
ANTONY SWITHIN, Chronicler.
foreword chapters 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 (more chapters will appear in the future)
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