"We have no time to bandy words with this accursed son of the Evil One.
Tie him to yon tree, and let the vultures feast upon their carrion."
With loud imprecations the men seized their clansman, tore off his haick
and burnouse, and bound him securely to a palm-trunk in such a position
that he could only see the great expanse of barren sand. Then with that
refinement of cruelty of which the nomadic Kanouri are past masters,
they smeared his face, hands and feet with date-juice, to attract the
ants and other insects; and, after jeering at him and condemning him to
everlasting perdition and sempiternal culpability, they remounted their
horses, and, laughing heartily, left him alone to await the end.
Through the long, silent night, Hatita, with arms and legs bound so
tightly that he could not move them, remained wondering what terrible
fate had befallen the beautiful girl who had overheard his orison. The
two Arabs had not returned. He knew the men were splendid riders,
therefore it was more than probable that they had very quickly overtaken
her. Utterly hopeless, well knowing that to the blazing sun and the
agonies of being half-devoured by insects he must very soon succumb, he
waited, his ears on the alert to catch every sound.
In the sky a saffron streak showed on the edge of the sandy plain,
heralding the sun's coming. He watched it gradually spread, knowing
that each moment brought him nearer to an end of agony. He lifted his
voice in supplication to Allah, and showered voluble curses upon the
expedition about to be attempted by his tribe. The pale, handsome face
of Kheira was ever before him, haunting him like a half-remembered
dream, its beauty fascinating him, and even causing him to forget the
horror of those hours of dawn.
Saffron changed to rose, and rose to gold, until the sun shone out,
lighting up the trackless waste. The flies, awakened, began to torment
the condemned man, who knew that the merciless rays beating down upon
his uncovered head would quickly produce the dreaded delirium of
madness. The furnace heat of sunshine grew intense as noon approached,
and he was compelled to keep his eyes closed to avoid the blinding
glare.
Suddenly a noise fell upon his ear. At first it sounded like a low
distant rumbling, but soon his practised ears detected that it was the
rattle of musketry and din of tom-toms.
The City in the Sky was being attacked! His tribesmen had arranged to
deliver the assault at noon, but what puzzled him was a sullen booming
at frequent intervals. It was the sound of cannon, and showed plainly
that Afo was being defended!
From where he was he could see nothing of it. Indeed, the base of the
mountain was eight miles distant, and the city, parched upon its summit,
could only be approached from the opposite side by a path that was
almost inaccessible. Yet hour after hour the rapid firing continued,
and it was evident a most desperate battle was being fought. This
puzzled him, for had not Kheira said that the city was totally
undefended? Still, the tumult of battle served to prevent him from
lapsing into unconsciousness; and not until the sun sank in a brilliant,
blood-red blaze did the firing cease. Then all grew silent again. The
hot poison-wind from the desert caused the feathery heads of the palms
to wave like funeral plumes, and night crept on. The horrible torture
of the insects, the action of the sun upon his brain, the hunger, the
thirst, and the constant strain of the nerves, proved too much; and he
slept, haunted by spectral horrors, and a constant dread of the
inevitable--the half-consciousness precursory of death.
So passed the night until the sun reappeared, but Hatita's eyes opened
not. The heat of the blazing noon caused him no concern, neither did
the two great grey vultures that were hovering over him; for it was not
until he heard voices in the vicinity that he gazed around.
One voice louder than the others was uttering thanks to Allah. He
listened; then, summoning all his strength that remained, he cried
aloud, in the name of the One Merciful, for assistance.
There were sounds of hurrying footsteps, voices raised in surprise, a
woman's scream, and then objects, grotesquely distorted, whirled around
him and he knew no more.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
When Hatita again opened his weary, fevered eyes, he was amazed to find
himself lying upon a soft, silken divan in a magnificent apartment, with
slaves watching, ready to minister to his wants. He took a cooling
draught from a crystal goblet handed to him, then raised himself, and
inquired where he was. The slaves made no reply, but, bowing low, left.
Then in a few moments the _frou-frou_ of silk startled him, and next
second he leaped to his feet, and, with a cry of joy, clasped Kheira in
his arms.
In her gorgeous harem dress of pale rose silk, with golden bejewelled
girdle, she looked bewitching, though around her eyes were dark rings
that betrayed the anxiety of the past few days. As their lips met in
hot, passionate kisses, she was followed by a tall, stately,
dark-bearded man of matchless bearing, whose robe was of amaranth silk,
and who wore in his head-dress a magnificent diamond aigrette. Kheira
saw him, and, withdrawing herself from Hatita's embrace, introduced her
lover to her father, the Sultan of Abea.
"To thee I owe my life and my kingdom," said the potentate, giving him
"Peace," and wringing his hand warmly. "Kheira hath related unto me the
mercy thou didst show towards her; and it was thy word of warning that
enabled us to repel and defeat the Kanouri."
"Then thou didst escape, O signet of the sphere of elegance!" the young
Arab cried, turning to the Sultan's daughter.
"Yes; though I was hard pressed by two of thine horsemen I took the
secret path, and thus were they baffled."
"The Director of Fate apprised our fighting men of their danger," said
the Sultan; "and they returned on the same night. The breeze of grace
blew, the sun of the favour of Allah shone. The news brought by Kheira
was quickly acted upon, and the defences of the city so strengthened,
that when at noon the assault was delivered, our cannon swept thy
tribesmen from the pass like grains of sand before the sirocco. For six
hours they fought; but their attempts to storm the city gate were
futile, and the handful of survivors were compelled to retire, leaving
nearly a thousand prisoners, including Nikale himself, in our hands."
"And how was I rescued?" Hatita asked, after briefly explaining how his
conversation with Kheira had been overheard.
"On the day following the fight, we went unto the shrine of Sidi Okbar
to return thanks to Allah, and there found thee dying of heat and
thirst. Thou didst sacrifice thy life to save our ruler and his city,
therefore we brought thee hither," she said.
"And as a reward," added the Sultan, smiling upon them both, "I give
unto thee my daughter Kheira in marriage." Then, taking their hands, he
placed them in each other's, and added, "Thou hast both the verdure of
the meadows of life. May Allah preserve thee, and grant unto thee long
years of perfect peace, and an eternal rose-garden of happiness. In
order that thou shalt have position fitting the husband of thy Sultan's
daughter, I have ordered our Palace of Kyoukoi to be prepared for thy
reception. Therefore, wipe off the rust of ennui and fatigue from the
speculum of thy mind, and follow me; for a feast is already prepared for
the celebration of this betrothal."
And the happy pair, hand-in-hand, passed onward through the private
pavilions--bewildering in their magnificence of marble and gold, and
green with many leaves--to the Great Hall of the Divan, where, standing
under the royal baldachin of yellow silk brocade, the Sultan of Abea
rejoiced them with his favours, proclaiming Hatita, son of Ibrahim, as
the future husband of Kheira, and appointing him Governor of the City in
the Sky.