CHAPTER XX.

THE TRIAL AND AFTER

They set us in a line, four ragged-looking fellows, all of us with

beards of various degrees of growth, that is, all the other three, for

mine had been an established fact for years, and everything having been

taken away from us, we possessed neither razor nor scissors.

In the courtyard of our barrack we were met by a company of soldiers,

who encircled us about with a triple line of men, as we thought to

prevent any attempt of escape. So soon as we passed the gates I found,

however, that this was done for a different reason, namely, to protect

us from the fury of the populace. All the way from the barrack to the

courthouse, whither we were being taken now that the palace was burned,

the people were gathered in hundreds, literally howling for our blood.

It was a strange, and, in a way, a dreadful sight to see even the

brightly dressed women and children shaking their fists and spitting at

us with faces distorted by hate.

“Why they love you so little, father, when you do so much for

them?” asked Roderick, shrugging his shoulders and dodging a stone

that nearly hit him on the head.

“For two reasons,” I answered. “Because their Lady loves one

of us too much, and because through us many of their people have lost

their lives. Also they hate strangers, and are by nature cruel, like

most cowards, and now that they have no more fear of the Fung, they

think it will be safe to kill us.”

“Ah!” said Roderick; “yet Harmac has come to Mur,” and

he pointed to the great head of the idol seated on the cliff, “and I

think where Harmac goes, Fung follow, and if so they make them pay

plenty for my life, for I great man among Fung; Fung myself husband of

Sultan’s daughter. These fools, like children, because they see no

Fung, think there are no Fung. Well, in one year, or perhaps one month,

they learn.”

“I daresay, my boy,” I answered, “but I am afraid that

won’t help us.”

By now we were approaching the court-house where the Abati priests and

learned men tried civil and some criminal cases. Through a mob of

nobles and soldiers who mocked us as we went, we were hustled into the

large hall of judgment that was already full to overflowing.

Up the centre of it we marched to a clear space reserved for the parties

to a cause, or prisoners and their advocates, beyond which, against the

wall, were seats for the judges. These were five members of the

Council, one of whom was Joshua, while in the centre as President of

the Court, and wearing her veil and beautiful robes of ceremony, sat

Maqueda herself.

“Thank God, she’s safe!” muttered Oliver with a gasp of

relief.

“Yes,” answered Higgs, “but what’s she doing there? She

ought to be in the dock, too, not on the Bench.”

We reached the open space, and were thrust by soldiers armed with swords

to where we must stand, and although each of us bowed to her, I

observed that Maqueda took not the slightest notice of our salutations.

She only turned her head and said something to Joshua on her right,

which caused him to laugh.

Then with startling suddenness the case began. A kind of public

prosecutor stood forward and droned out the charge against us. It was

that we, who were in the employ of the Abati, had traitorously taken

advantage of our position as mercenary captains to stir up a civil war,

in which many people had lost their lives, and some been actually

murdered by ourselves and our companion who was dead. Moreover, that we

had caused their palace to be burned and, greatest crime of all, had

seized the sacred person of the Walda Nagasta, Rose of Mur, and dragged

her away into the recesses of the underground city, whence she was only

rescued by the chance of an accomplice of ours, one Japhet, betraying

our hiding-place.

This was the charge which, it will be noted, contained no allusion

whatever to the love entanglement between Maqueda and Oliver. When it

was finished the prosecutor asked us what we pleaded, whereon Oliver

answered as our spokesman that it was true there had been fighting and

men killed, also that we had been driven into the cave, but as to all

the rest the Child of Kings knew the truth, and must speak for us as

she wished.

Now the audience began to shout, “They plead guilty! Give them to

death!” and so forth, while the judges rising from their seats,

gathered round Maqueda and consulted her.

“By heaven! I believe she is going to give us away!” exclaimed

Higgs, whereon Oliver turned on him fiercely and bade him hold his

tongue, adding:

“If you were anywhere else you should answer for that slander!”

At length the consultation was finished; the judges resumed their seats,

and Maqueda held up her hand. Thereon an intense silence fell upon the

place. Then she began to speak in a cold, constrained voice:

“Gentiles,” she said, addressing us, “you have pleaded guilty

to the stirring up of civil war in Mur, and to the slaying of numbers of

its people, facts of which there is no need for evidence, since many

widows and fatherless children can testify to them to-day. Moreover,

you did, as alleged by my officer, commit the crime of bearing off my

person into the cave and keeping me there by force to be a hostage for

your safety.”

We heard and gasped, Higgs ejaculating, “Good gracious, what a

lie!” But none of the rest of us said anything.

“For these offences,” went on Maqueda, “you are all of you

justly worthy of a cruel death.” Then she paused and added, “Yet,

as I have the power to do, I remit the sentence. I decree that this day

you and all the goods that remain to you which have been found in the

cave city, and elsewhere, together with camels for yourselves and your

baggage, shall be driven from Mur, and that if any one of you returns

hither, he shall without further trial be handed over to the

executioners. This I do because at the beginning of your service a

certain bargain was made with you, and although you have sinned so

deeply I will not suffer that the glorious honour of the Abati people

shall be tarnished even by the breath of suspicion. Get you gone,

Wanderers, and let us see your faces no more for ever!”

Now the mob gathered in the hall shouted in exultation, though I heard

some crying out, “No, kill them! Kill them!”

When the tumult had died down Maqueda spoke again saying:

“O noble and generous Abati, you approve of this deed of mercy; you

who would not be held merciless in far lands, O Abati, where, although

you may not have heard of them, there are, I believe, other peoples who

think themselves as great as you. You would not have it whispered, I

say, that we who are the best of the world, we, the children of

Solomon, have dealt harshly even with stray dogs that have wandered to

our gates? Moreover, we called these dogs to hunt a certain beast for

us, the lion-headed beast called Fung, and, to be just to them, they

hunted well. Therefore spare them the noose, though they may have

deserved it, and let them run hence with their bone, say you, the bone

which they think that they have earned. What does a bone more or less

matter to the rich Abati, if only their holy ground is not defiled with

the blood of Gentile dogs?”

“Nothing at all! Nothing at all!” they shouted. “Tie it to

their tails and let them go!”

“It shall be done, O my people! And now that we have finished with

these dogs, I have another word to say to you. You may have thought or

heard that I was too fond of them, and especially of one of them,”

and she glanced toward Oliver. “Well, there are certain dogs who will

not work unless you pat them on the head. Therefore I patted this one

on the head, since, after all, he is a clever dog who knows things that

we do not know; for instance, how to destroy the idol of the Fung. O

great Abati, can any of you really have believed that I, of the ancient

race of Solomon and Sheba, I, the Child of Kings, purposed to give my

noble hand to a vagrant Gentile come hither for hire? Can you really

have believed that I, the solemnly betrothed to yonder Prince of

Princes, Joshua, my uncle, would for a moment even in my heart have

preferred to him such a man as that?” And once again she looked at

Oliver, who made a wild motion, as though he were about to speak. But

before he could so much as open his lips Maqueda went on:

“Well, if you believed, not guessing all the while I was working for

the safety of my people, soon shall you be undeceived, since to-morrow

night I invite you to the great ceremony of my nuptials, when,

according to the ancient custom, I break the glass with him whom on the

following night I take to be my husband,” and rising, she bowed

thrice to the audience, then stretched out her hand to Joshua.

He, too, rose, puffing himself out like a great turkey-cock, and, taking

her hand, kissed it, gobbling some words which we did not catch.

Wild cheering followed, and in the momentary silence which followed

Oliver spoke.

“Lady,” he said, in a cold and bitter voice, “we

‘Gentiles’ have heard your words. We thank you for your kind

acknowledgment of our services, namely, the destruction of the idol of

the Fung at the cost of some risk and labour to ourselves. We thank you

also for your generosity in allowing us, as the reward of that service,

to depart from Mur, with insult and hard words, and such goods as

remain to us, instead of consigning us to death by torture, as you and

your Council have the power to do. It is indeed a proof of your

generosity, and of that of the Abati people which we shall always

remember and repeat in our own land, should we live to reach it. Also,

we trust that it will come to the ears of the savage Fung, so that at

length they may understand that true nobility and greatness lie not in

brutal deeds of arms, but in the hearts of men. But now, Walda Nagasta,

I have a last request to make of you, namely, that I may see your face

once more to be sure that it is you who have spoken to us, and not

another beneath your veil, and that if this be so, I may carry away

with me a faithful picture of one so true to her country and noble to

her guests as you have shown yourself this day.”

She listened, then very slowly lifted her veil, revealing such a

countenance as I had never seen before. It was Maqueda without a doubt,

but Maqueda changed. Her face was pale, which was only to be expected

after all she had gone through; her eyes glowed in it like coals, her

lips were set. But it was her expression, at once defiant and agonized,

which impressed me so much that I never shall forget it. I confess I

could not read it in the least, but it left upon my mind the belief

that she was a false woman, and yet ashamed of her own falsity. There

was the greatest triumph of her art, that in those terrible

circumstances she should still have succeeded in conveying to me, and to

the hundreds of others who watched, this conviction of her own

turpitude.

For a moment her eyes met those of Orme, but although he searched them

with pleading and despair in his glance, I could trace in hers no

relenting sign, but only challenge not unmixed with mockery. Then with

a short, hard laugh she let fall her veil again and turned to talk with

Joshua. Oliver stood silent a little while, long enough for Higgs to

whisper to me:

“I say, isn’t this downright awful? I’d rather be back in the

den of lions than live to see it.”

As he spoke I saw Oliver put his hand to where his revolver usually

hung, but, of course, it had been taken from him. Next he began to

search in his pocket, and finding that tabloid of poison which I had

given him, lifted it toward his mouth. But just as it touched his lips,

my son, who was next to him, saw also. With a quick motion he struck it

from his fingers, and ground it to powder on the floor beneath his

heel.

Oliver raised his arm as though to hit him, then without a sound fell

senseless. Evidently Maqueda noted all this also, for I saw a kind of

quiver go through her, and her hands gripped the arms of her chair till

the knuckles showed white beneath the skin. But she only said:

“This Gentile has fainted because he is disappointed with his reward.

Take him hence and let his companion, the Doctor Adams, attend to him.

When he is recovered, conduct them all from Mur as I have decreed. See

that they go unharmed, taking with them plenty of food lest it be said

that we only spared their lives here in order that they might starve

without our gates.”

Then waving her hand to show that the matter was done with, she rose

and, followed by the judges and officers, left the court by some door

behind them.

While she spoke a strong body of guards had surrounded us, some of whom

came forward and lifted the senseless Oliver on to a stretcher. They

carried him down the court, the rest of us following.

“Look,” jeered the Abati as he passed, “look at the Gentile

pig who thought to wear the Bud of the Rose upon his bosom. He has got

the thorn now, not the rose. Is the swine dead, think you?”

Thus they mocked him and us.

We reached our prison in safety, and there I set to work to revive

Oliver, a task in which I succeeded at length. When he had come to

himself again he drank a cup of water, and said quite quietly:

“You fellows have seen all, so there is no need for talk and

explanations. One thing I beg of you, if you are any friends of mine,

and it is that you will not reproach or even speak of Maqueda to me.

Doubtless she had reasons for what she did; moreover, her bringing up

has not been the same as ours, and her code is different. Do not let us

judge her. I have been a great fool, that is all, and now I am paying

for my folly, or, rather, I have paid. Come, let us have some dinner,

for we don’t know when we shall get another meal.”

We listened to this speech in silence, only I saw Roderick turn aside to

hide a smile and wondered why he smiled.

Scarcely had we finished eating, or pretending to eat, when an officer

entered the room and informed us roughly that it was time for us to be

going. As he did so some attendants who had followed him threw us

bundles of clothes, and with them four very beautiful camel-hair cloaks

to protect us from the cold. With some of these garments we replaced

our rags, for they were little more, tying them and the rest of the

outfit up into bundles.

Then, clothed as Abati of the upper class, we were taken to the gates of

the barrack, where we found a long train of riding camels waiting for

us. The moment that I saw these beasts I knew that they were the best

in the whole land, and of very great value. Indeed, that to which

Oliver was conducted was Maqueda’s own favourite dromedary, which

upon state occasions she sometimes rode instead of a horse. He

recognized it at once, poor fellow, and coloured to the eyes at this

unexpected mark of kindness, the only one she had vouchsafed to him.

“Come, Gentiles,” said the officer, “and take count of your

goods, that you may not say that we have stolen anything from you. Here

are your firearms and all the ammunition that is left. These will be

given to you at the foot of the pass, but not before, lest you should

do more murder on the road. On those camels are fastened the boxes in

which you brought up the magic fire. We found them in your quarters in

the cave city, ready packed, but what they contain we neither know nor

care. Full or empty, take them, they are yours. Those,” and he

pointed to two other beasts, “are laden with your pay, which the

Child of Kings sends to you, requesting that you will not count it till

you reach Egypt or your own land, since she wishes no quarrelling with

you as to the amount. The rest carry food for you to eat; also, there

are two spare beasts. Now, mount and begone.”

So we climbed into the embroidered saddles of the kneeling dromedaries,

and a few minutes later were riding through Mur toward the pass,

accompanied by our guard and hooting mobs that once or twice became

threatening, but were driven off by the soldiers.

“I say, Doctor,” said Higgs to me excitedly, “do you know

that we have got all the best of the treasure of the Tomb of Kings in

those five-and-twenty crates? I have thought since that I was crazy

when I packed them, picking out the most valuable and rare articles

with such care, and filling in the cracks with ring money and small

curiosities, but now I see it was the inspiration of genius. My

subliminal self knew what was going to happen, and was on the job,

that’s all. Oh, if only we can get it safe away, I shall not have

played Daniel and been nearly starved to death for nothing. Why, I’d

go through it all again for that golden head alone. Shove on, shove on,

before they change their minds; it seems too good to be true.”

Just then a rotten egg thrown by some sweet Abati youth landed full on

the bridge of his nose, and dispersing itself into his mouth and over

his smoked spectacles, cut short the Professor’s eloquence, or rather

changed its tenor. So absurd was the sight that in spite of myself I

burst out laughing, and with that laugh felt my heart grow lighter, as

though our clouds of trouble were lifting at length.

At the mouth of the pass we found Joshua himself waiting for us, clad in

all his finery and chain armour, and looking more like a porpoise on

horseback than he had ever done.

“Farewell, Gentiles,” he said, bowing to us in mockery, “we

wish you a quick journey to Sheol, or wherever such swine as you may go.

Listen, you Orme. I have a message for you from the Walda Nagasta. It is

that she is sorry she could not ask you to stop for her nuptial feast,

which she would have done had she not been sure that, if you stayed,

the people would have cut your throat, and she did not wish the holy

soil of Mur to be defiled with your dog’s blood. Also she bids me say

that she hopes that your stay here will have taught you a lesson, and

that in future you will not believe that every woman who makes use of

you for her own ends is therefore a victim of your charms. To-morrow

night and the night after, I pray you think of our happiness and drink

a cup of wine to the Walda Nagasta and her husband. Come, will you not

wish me joy, O Gentile?”

Orme turned white as a sheet and gazed at him steadily. Then a strange

look came into his grey eyes, almost a look of inspiration.

“Prince Joshua,” he said in a very quiet voice, “who knows

what may happen before the sun rises thrice on Mur? All things that

begin well do not end well, as I have learned, and as you also may live

to learn. At least, soon or late, your day of reckoning must come, and

you, too, may be betrayed as I have been. Rather should you ask me to

forgive your soul the insults that in your hour of triumph you have not

been ashamed to heap upon one who is powerless to avenge them,” and

he urged his camel past him.

As we followed I saw Joshua’s face turn as pale as Oliver’s had

done, and his great round eyes protrude themselves like those of a fish.

“What does he mean?” said the prince to his companions. “Pray

God he is not a prophet of evil. Even now I have a mind—no, let him

go. To break my marriage vow might bring bad luck upon me. Let him

go!” and he glared after Oliver with fear and hatred written on his

coarse features.

That was the last we ever saw of Joshua, uncle of Maqueda, and first

prince among the Abati.

Down the pass we went and through the various gates of the

fortifications, which were thrown open as we came and closed behind us.

We did not linger on that journey. Why should we when our guards were

anxious to be rid of us and we of them? Indeed, so soon as the last

gate was behind us, either from fear of the Fung or because they were

in a hurry to return to share in the festivities of the approaching

marriage, suddenly the Abati wheeled round, bade us farewell with a

parting curse, and left us to our own devices.

So, having roped the camels into a long line, we went on alone, truly

thankful to be rid of them, and praying, every one of us, that never in

this world or the next might we see the face or hear the voice of

another Abati.

We emerged on to the plain at the spot where months before we had held

our conference with Barung, Sultan of the Fung, and where poor Quick

had forced his camel on to Joshua’s horse and dismounted that hero.

Here we paused awhile to arrange our little caravan and arm ourselves

with the rifles, revolvers, and cartridges which until now we had not

been allowed to touch.

There were but four of us to manage the long train of camels, so we were

obliged to separate. Higgs and I went ahead, since I was best acquainted

with the desert and the road, Oliver took the central station, and

Roderick brought up the rear, because he was very keen of sight and

hearing and from his long familiarity with them, knew how to drive

camels that showed signs of obstinacy or a wish to turn.

On our right lay the great city of Harmac. We noted that it seemed to be

quite deserted. There, rebuilt now, frowned the gateway through which

we had escaped from the Fung after we had blown so many of them to

pieces, but beneath it none passed in or out. The town was empty, and

although they were dead ripe the rich crops had not yet been reaped.

Apparently the Fung people had now left the land.

Now we were opposite to the valley of Harmac, and saw that the huge

sphinx still sat there as it had done for unknown thousands of years.

Only its head was gone, for that had “moved to Mur,” and in its

neck and shoulders appeared great clefts, caused by the terrific force

of the explosion. Moreover, no sound came from the enclosures where the

sacred lions used to be. Doubtless every one of them was dead.

“Don’t you think,” suggested Higgs, whose archæological zeal

was rekindling fast, “that we might spare half-an-hour to go up the

valley and have a look at Harmac from the outside? Of course, both

Roderick and I are thoroughly acquainted with his inside, and the den

of lions, and so forth, but I would give a great deal just to study the

rest of him and take a few measurements. You know one must camp

somewhere, and if we can’t find the camera, at dawn one might make a

sketch.”

“Are you mad?” I asked by way of answer, and Higgs collapsed, but

to this hour he has never forgiven me.

We looked our last upon Harmac, the god whose glory we had destroyed,

and went on swiftly till darkness overtook us almost opposite to that

ruined village where Shadrach had tried to poison the hound Pharaoh,

which afterwards tore out his throat. Here we unloaded the camels, no

light task, and camped, for near this spot there was water and a patch

of maize on which the beasts could feed.

Before the light quite faded Roderick rode forward for a little way to

reconnoitre, and presently returned announcing shortly that he had seen

no one. So we ate of the food with which the Abati had provided us, not

without fear lest it should be poisoned, and then held a council of

war.

The question was whether we should take the old road toward Egypt, or

now that the swamps were dry, strike up northward by the other route of

which Shadrach had told us. According to the map this should be

shorter, and Higgs advocated it strongly, as I discovered afterwards

because he thought there might be more archæological remains in that

direction.

I, on the other hand, was in favour of following the road we knew,

which, although long and very wearisome, was comparatively safe, as in

that vast desert there were few people to attack us, while Oliver, our

captain, listened to all we had to say, and reserved his opinion.

Presently, however, the question was settled for us by Roderick, who

remarked that if we travelled to the north we should probably fall in

with the Fung. I asked what he meant, and he replied that when he made

his reconnaissance an hour or so before, although it was true that he

had seen no one, not a thousand yards from where we sat he had come

across the track of a great army. This army, from various indications,

he felt sure was that of Barung, which had passed there within twelve

hours.

“Perhaps my wife with them, so I no want to go that way, father,”

he added with sincere simplicity.

“Where could they be travelling?” I asked.

“Don’t know,” he answered, “but think they go round to

attack Mur from other side, or perhaps to find new land to north.”

“We will stick to the old road,” said Oliver briefly. “Like

Roderick I have had enough of all the inhabitants of this country. Now

let us rest awhile; we need it.”

About two o’clock we were up again and before it was dawn on the

following morning we had loaded our camels and were on the road. By the

first faint light we saw that what Roderick had told us was true. We

were crossing the track of an army of many thousand men who had passed

there recently with laden camels and horses. Moreover, those men were

Fung, for we picked up some articles that could have belonged to no

other people, such as a head-dress that had been lost or thrown away,

and an arrow that had fallen from a quiver.

However, we saw nothing of them, and, travelling fast, to our great

relief by midday reached the river Ebur, which we crossed without

difficulty, for it was now low. That night we camped in the

forest-lands beyond, having all the afternoon marched up the rising

ground at the foot of which ran the river.

Toward dawn Higgs, whose turn it was to watch the camels, came and woke

me.

“Sorry to disturb you, old fellow,” he said, “but there is a

most curious sky effect behind us which I thought you might like to

see.”

I rose and looked. In the clear, starlight night I could just discern

the mighty outline of the mountains of Mur. Above them the firmament

was suffused with a strange red glow. I formed my own conclusion at

once, but only said:

“Let us go to tell Orme,” and led the way to where he had lain down

under a tree.

He was not sleeping; indeed, I do not think he had closed his eyes all

night, the night of Maqueda’s marriage. On the contrary, he was

standing on a little knoll staring at the distant mountains and the

glow above them.

“Mur is on fire,” he said solemnly. “Oh, my God, Mur is on

fire!” and turning he walked away.

Just then Roderick joined us.

“Fung got into Mur,” he said, “and now cut throat of all

Abati. We well out of that, but pig Joshua have very warm wedding feast,

because Barung hate Joshua who try to catch him not fairly, which he

never forget; often talk of it.”

“Poor Maqueda!” I said to Higgs, “what will happen to

her?”

“I don’t know,” he answered, “but although once, like

everybody else, I adored that girl, really as a matter of justice she

deserves all she gets, the false-hearted little wretch. Still it is

true,” he added, relenting, “she gave us very good camels, to say

nothing of their loads.”

But I only repeated, “Poor Maqueda!”

That day we made but a short journey, since we wished to rest ourselves

and fill the camels before plunging into the wilderness, and feeling

sure that we should not be pursued, had no cause to hurry. At night we

camped in a little hollow by a stream that ran at the foot of a rise.

As dawn broke we were awakened by the voice of Roderick, who was on

watch, calling to us in tones of alarm to get up, as we were followed.

We sprang to our feet, seizing our rifles.

“Where are they?” I asked.

“There, there,” he said, pointing toward the rise behind us.

We ran round some intervening bushes and looked, to see upon its crest a

solitary figure seated on a very tired horse, for it panted and its head

drooped. This figure, which was entirely hidden in a long cloak with a

hood, appeared to be watching our camp just as a spy might do. Higgs

lifted his rifle and fired at it, but Oliver, who was standing by him,

knocked the barrel up so that the bullet went high, saying:

“Don’t be a fool. If it is only one man there’s no need to

shoot him, and if there are more you will bring them on to us.”

Then the figure urged the weary horse and advanced slowly, and I noticed

that it was very small. “A boy,” I thought to myself, “who is

bringing some message.”

The rider reached us, and slipping from the horse, stood still.

“Who are you?” asked Oliver, scanning the cloaked form.

“One who brings a token to you, lord,” was the answer, spoken in a

low and muffled voice. “Here it is,” and a hand, a very delicate

hand, was stretched out, holding between the fingers a ring.

I knew it at once; it was Sheba’s ring which Maqueda had lent to me in

proof of her good faith when I journeyed for help to England. This ring,

it will be remembered, we returned to her with much ceremony at our

first public audience. Oliver grew pale at the sight of it.

“How did you come by this?” he asked hoarsely. “Is she who

alone may wear it dead?”

“Yes, yes,” answered the voice, a feigned voice as I thought.

“The Child of Kings whom you knew is dead, and having no more need for

this ancient symbol of her power, she bequeathed it to you whom she

remembered kindly at the last.”

Oliver covered his face with his hands and turned away.

“But,” went on the speaker slowly, “the woman Maqueda whom

once it is said you loved——”

He dropped his hands and stared.

“——the woman Maqueda whom once it is said

you—loved—still lives.”

Then the hood slipped back, and in the glow of the rising sun we saw the

face beneath.

It was that of Maqueda herself!

A silence followed that in its way was almost awful.

“My Lord Oliver,” asked Maqueda presently, “do you accept my

offering of Queen Sheba’s ring?”

NOTE BY MAQUEDA

Once called Walda Nagasta and Takla Warda, that is, Child of Kings and

Bud of the Rose, once also by birth Ruler of the Abati people, the Sons

of Solomon and Sheba.

I, Maqueda, write this by the command of Oliver, my lord, who desires

that I should set out certain things in my own words.

Truly all men are fools, and the greatest of them is Oliver, my lord,

though perhaps he is almost equalled by the learned man whom the Abati

called Black Windows, and by the doctor, Son of Adam. Only he who is

named Roderick, child of Adam, is somewhat less blind, because having

been brought up among the Fung and other people of the desert, he has

gathered a little wisdom. This I know because he has told me that he

alone saw through my plan to save all their lives, but said nothing of

it because he desired to escape from Mur, where certain death waited on

him and his companions. Perhaps, however, he lies to please me.

Now, for the truth of the matter, which not being skilled in writing I

will tell briefly.

I was carried out of the cave city with my lord and the others,

starving, starving, too weak to kill myself, which otherwise I would

have done rather than fall into the hands of my accursed uncle, Joshua.

Yet I was stronger than the rest, because as I have learned, they

tricked me about those biscuits, pretending to eat when they were not

eating, for which never will I forgive them. It was Japhet, a gallant

man on one side, but a coward on the other like the rest of the Abati,

who betrayed us, driven thereto by emptiness within, which, after all,

is an ill enemy to fight. He went out and told Joshua where we lay hid,

and then, of course, they came.

Well, they took away my lord and the others, and me too they bore to

another place and fed me till my strength returned, and oh! how good

was that honey which first I ate, for I could touch nothing else. When

I was strong again came Prince Joshua to me and said, “Now I have you

in my net; now you are mine.”

Then I answered Joshua, “Fool, your net is of air; I will fly through

it.”

“How?” he asked. “By death,” I answered, “of

which a hundred means lie to my hand. You have robbed me of one, but

what does that matter when so many remain? I will go where you and your

love cannot pursue me.”

“Very well, Child of Kings,” he said, “but how about that

tall Gentile who has caught your eyes, and his companions? They, too,

have recovered, and they shall die every one of them after a certain

fashion (which, I Maqueda, will not set down, since there are some

things that ought not to be written). If you die, they die; as I told

you, they die as a wolf dies that is caught by the shepherds; they die

as a baboon dies that is caught by the husbandman.”

Now I looked this way and that, and found that there was no escape. So I

made a bargain.

“Joshua,” I said, “let these men go and I swear upon the name

of our mother, she of Sheba, that I will marry you. Keep them and kill

them, and you will have none of me.”

Well, in the end, because he desired me and the power that went with me,

he consented.

Then I played my part. My lord and his companions were brought before

me, and in presence of all the people I mocked them; I spat in their

faces, and oh! fools, fools, fools, they believed me! I lifted my veil,

and showed them my eyes, and they believed also what they seemed to see

in my eyes, forgetting that I am a woman who can play a part at need.

Yes, they forgot that there were others to deceive as well, all the

Abati people, who, if they thought I tricked them, would have torn the

foreigners limb from limb. That was my bitterest morsel, that I should

have succeeded in making even my own lord believe that of all the

wicked women that ever trod this world, I was the most vile. Yet I did

so, and he cannot deny it, for often we have talked of this thing till

he will hear of it no more.

Well, they went with all that I could give them, though I knew well that

my lord cared nothing, for what I could give, nor the doctor, Child of

Adam, either, who cared only for his son that God had restored to him.

Only Black Windows cared, not because he loves wealth, but because he

worships all that is old and ugly, for of such things he fashions up

his god.

They went, for their going was reported to me, and I, I entered into

hell because I knew that my lord thought me false, and that he would

never learn the truth, namely, that what I did I did to save his life,

until at length he came to his own country, if ever he came there, and

opened the chests of treasure, if ever he opened them, which perhaps he

would not care to do. And all that while he would believe me the wife

of Joshua, and—oh! I cannot write of it. And I, I should be dead; I,

I could not tell him the truth until he joined me in that land of

death, if there men and women can talk together any more.

For this and no other was the road that I had planned to walk. When he

and his companions had gone so far that they could not be followed,

then I would tell Joshua and the Abati all the truth in such language

as should never be forgotten for generations, and kill myself before

their eyes, so that Joshua might lack a wife and the Abati a Child of

Kings.

I sat through the Feast of Preparation and smiled and smiled. It passed

and the next day passed, and came the night of the Feast of Marriage.

The glass was broken, the ceremony was fulfilled. Joshua rose up to

pledge me before all the priests, lords, and headmen. He devoured me

with his hateful eyes, me, who was already his. But I, I handled the

knife in my robe, wishing, such was the rage in my heart, that I could

kill him also.

Then God spoke, and the dream that I had dreamed came true. Far away

there rose a single cry, and after it other cries, and the sounds of

shouting and of marching feet. Far away tongues of fire leapt into the

air, and each man asked his neighbour, “What is this?” Then from

all the thousands of the feasting people rose one giant scream, and

that scream said, “Fung! Fung! The Fung are on us! Fly, fly, fly!”

“Come,” shouted Joshua, seizing me by the arm, but I drew my dagger

on him and he let go. Then he fled with the other lords, and I remained

in my high seat beneath the golden canopy alone.

The people fled past me without fighting; they fled into the cave city,

they fled to the rocks; they hid themselves among the precipices, and

after them came the Fung, slaying and burning, till all Mur went up in

flames. And I, I sat and watched, waiting till it was time for me to

die also.

At last, I know not how long afterwards, appeared before me Barung, a

red sword in his hand, which he lifted to me in salute.

“Greeting, Child of Kings,” he said. “You see Harmac is come

to sleep at Mur.”

“Yes,” I answered, “Harmac is come to sleep at Mur, and many

of those who dwelt there sleep with him. What of it? Say, Barung, will

you kill me, or shall I kill myself?”

“Neither, Child of Kings,” he answered in his high fashion.

“Did I not make you a promise yonder in the Pass of Mur, when I spoke

with you and the Western men, and does a Fung Sultan break his word? I

have taken back the city that was ours, as I swore to do, and purified

it with fire,” and he pointed to the raging flames. “Now I will

rebuild it, and you shall rule under me.”

“Not so,” I answered; “but in place of that promise I ask of

you three things.”

“Name them,” said Barung.

“They are these: First, that you give me a good horse and five

days’ food, and let me go where I will. Secondly, that if he still

lives you advance one Japhet, a certain Mountaineer who befriended me

and brought others to do likewise, to a place of honour under you.

Thirdly, that you spare the rest of the Abati people.”

“You shall go whither you desire, and I think I know where you will

go,” answered Barung. “Certain spies of mine last night saw four

white men riding on fine camels towards Egypt, and reported it to me as

I led my army to the secret pass that Harmac showed me, which you Abati

could never find. But I said, ‘Let them go; it is right that brave

men who have been the mock of the Abati should be allowed their

freedom.’ Yes, I said this, although one of them was my daughter’s

husband, or near to it. But she will have no more of him who fled to

his father rather than with her, so it was best that he should go also,

since, if I brought him back it must be to his death.”

“Yes,” I answered boldly, “I go after the Western men; I who

have done with these Abati. I wish to see new lands.”

“And find an old love who thinks ill of you just now,” he said,

stroking his beard. “Well, no wonder, for here has been a marriage

feast. Say, what were you about to do, O Child of Kings? Take the fat

Joshua to your breast?”

“Nay, Barung, I was about to take _this_ husband to my

breast,” and I showed him the knife that was hidden in my marriage

robe.

“No,” he said, smiling, “I think the knife was for Joshua

first. Still, you are a brave woman who could save the life of him you

love at the cost of your own. Yet, bethink you, Child of Kings, for

many a generation your mothers have been queens, and under me you may

still remain a queen. How will one whose blood has ruled so long endure

to serve a Western man in a strange land?”

“That is what I go to find out, Barung, and if I cannot endure, then I

shall come back again, though not to rule the Abati, of whom I wash my

hands for ever. Yet, Barung, my heart tells me I shall endure.”

“The Child of Kings has spoken,” he said, bowing to me. “My

best horse awaits her, and five of my bravest guards shall ride with her

to keep her safe till she sights the camp of the Western men. I say

happy is he of them who was born to wear the sweet-scented Bud of the

Rose upon his bosom. For the rest, the man Japhet is in my hands. He

yielded himself to me who would not fight for his own people because of

what they had done to his friends, the white men. Lastly, already I

have given orders that the slaying should cease, since I need the Abati

to be my slaves, they who are cowards, but cunning in many arts. Only

one more man shall die,” he added sternly, “and that is Joshua, who

would have taken me by a trick in the mouth of the pass. So plead not

for him, for by the head of Harmac it is in vain.”

Now hearing this I did not plead, fearing lest I should anger Barung,

and but waste my breath.

At daybreak I started on the horse, having with me the five Fung

captains. As we crossed the marketplace I met those that remained alive

of the Abati, being driven in hordes like beasts, to hear their doom.

Among them was Prince Joshua, my uncle, whom a man led by a rope about

his neck, while another man thrust him forward from behind, since

Joshua knew that he went to his death and the road was one which he did

not wish to travel. He saw me, and cast himself down upon the ground,

crying to me to save him. I told him that I could not, though it is the

truth, I swear it before God, that, notwithstanding all the evil he had

worked toward me, toward Oliver my lord, and his companions, bringing to

his end that gallant man who died to protect me, I would still have

saved him if I could. But I could not, for although I tried once more,

Barung would not listen. So I answered:

“Plead, O Joshua, with him who has the power in Mur to-day, for I have

none. You have fashioned your own fate, and must travel the road you

chose.”

“What road do you ride, mounted on a horse of the plains, Maqueda? Oh!

what need is there for me to ask? You go to see that accursed Gentile

whom I would I had killed by inches, as I would that I could kill

you.”

Then calling me by evil names, Joshua sprang at me as though to strike

me down, but he who held the rope about his neck jerked him backward,

so that he fell and I saw his face no more.

But oh! it was sad, that journey across the great square, for the

captive Abati by hundreds—men, women, and children together—with

tears and lamentations cried to me to preserve them from death or

slavery at the hands of the Fung. But I answered:

“Your sins against me and the brave foreign men who fought so well for

you I forgive, but search your hearts, O Abati, and say if you can

forgive yourselves? If you had listened to me and to those whom I

called in to help us, you might have beaten back the Fung, and remained

free for ever. But you were cowards; you would not learn to bear arms

like men, you would not even watch your mountain walls, and soon or

late the people who refuse to be ready to fight must fall and become

the servants of those who are ready.”

And now, my Oliver, I have no more to write, save that I am glad to have

endured so many things, and thereby win the joy that is mine to-day. Not

yet have I, Maqueda, wished to reign again in Mur, who have found

another throne.

Queen Sheba's Ring · 第 20 / 20 章