THE SACRIFICE.
Things in the palace were in a strange condition: the king playing with
a child and dreaming wise dreams, waited upon by a little princess with
the heart of a queen, and a youth from the mines, who went nowhere, not
even into the king's chamber, without his mattock on his shoulder and a
horrible animal at his heels; in a room near by the colonel of his
guard, also in bed, without a soldier to obey him; in six other rooms,
far apart, six miscreants, each watched by a beast-gaoler; ministers to
them all, an old woman, a young woman, and a page; and in the
wine-cellar, forty-three animals, creatures more grotesque than ever
brain of man invented. None dared approach its gates, and seldom one
issued from them.
All the dwellers in the city were united in enmity to the palace. It
swarmed with evil spirits, they said, whereas the evil spirits were in
the city, unsuspected. One consequence of their presence was that, when
the rumour came that a great army was on the march against Gwyntystorm,
instead of rushing to their defences, to make new gates, free
portcullises and drawbridges, and bar the river, each and all flew first
to their treasures, burying them in their cellars and gardens, and
hiding them behind stones in their chimneys; and, next to rebellion,
signing an invitation to his majesty of Borsagrass to enter at their
open gates, destroy their king, and annex their country to his own.
The straits of isolation were soon found in the palace: its invalids
were requiring stronger food, and what was to be done? for if the
butchers sent meat to the palace, was it not likely enough to be
poisoned? Curdie said to Derba he would think of some plan before
morning.
But that same night, as soon as it was dark, Lina came to her master,
and let him understand she wanted to go out. He unlocked a little
private postern for her, left it so that she could push it open when she
returned, and told the crocodile to stretch himself across it inside.
Before midnight she came back with a young deer.
Early the next morning the legserpent crept out of the wine-cellar,
through the broken door behind, shot into the river, and soon appeared
in the kitchen with a splendid sturgeon. Every night Lina went out
hunting, and every morning Legserpent went out fishing, and both
invalids and household had plenty to eat. As to news, the page, in plain
clothes, would now and then venture out into the market-place, and
gather some.
One night he came back with the report that the army of the king of
Borsagrass had crossed the border. Two days after, he brought the news
that the enemy was now but twenty miles from Gwyntystorm.
The colonel of the guard rose, and began furbishing his armour--but gave
it over to the page, and staggered across to the barracks, which were in
the next street. The sentry took him for a ghost or worse, ran into the
guard-room, bolted the door, and stopped his ears. The poor colonel, who
was yet hardly able to stand, crawled back despairing.
For Curdie, he had already, as soon as the first rumour reached him,
resolved, if no other instructions came, and the king continued unable
to give orders, to call Lina and the creatures, and march to meet the
enemy. If he died, he died for the right, and there was a right end of
it. He had no preparations to make, except a good sleep.
He asked the king to let the housemaid take his place by his majesty
that night, and went and lay down on the floor of the corridor, no
farther off than a whisper would reach from the door of the chamber.
There, with an old mantle of the king's thrown over him, he was soon
fast asleep.
Somewhere about the middle of the night, he woke suddenly, started to
his feet, and rubbed his eyes. He could not tell what had waked him. But
could he be awake, or was he not dreaming? The curtain of the king's
door, a dull red ever before, was glowing a gorgeous, a radiant purple;
and the crown wrought upon it in silks and gems was flashing as if it
burned! What could it mean? Was the king's chamber on fire? He darted to
the door and lifted the curtain. Glorious terrible sight!
A long and broad marble table, that stood at one end of the room, had
been drawn into the middle of it, and thereon burned a great fire, of a
sort that Curdie knew--a fire of glowing, flaming roses, red and white.
In the midst of the roses lay the king, moaning, but motionless. Every
rose that fell from the table to the floor, some one, whom Curdie could
not plainly see for the brightness, lifted and laid burning upon the
king's face, until at length his face too was covered with the live
roses, and he lay all within the fire, moaning still, with now and then
a shuddering sob. And the shape that Curdie saw and could not see, wept
over the king as he lay in the fire, and often she hid her face in
handfuls of her shadowy hair, and from her hair the water of her
weeping dropped like sunset rain in the light of the roses. At last
she lifted a great armful of her hair, and shook it over the fire, and
the drops fell from it in showers, and they did not hiss in the flames,
but there arose instead as it were the sound of running brooks. And the
glow of the red fire died away, and the glow of the white fire grew
gray, and the light was gone, and on the table all was black--except the
face of the king, which shone from under the burnt roses like a diamond
in the ashes of a furnace.
[Illustration: "_In the midst of the roses lay the king, moaning, but
motionless._"]
Then Curdie, no longer dazzled, saw and knew the old princess. The room
was lighted with the splendour of her face, of her blue eyes, of her
sapphire crown. Her golden hair went streaming out from her through the
air till it went off in mist and light. She was large and strong as a
Titaness. She stooped over the table-altar, put her mighty arms under
the living sacrifice, lifted the king, as if he were but a little child,
to her bosom, walked with him up the floor, and laid him in his bed.
Then darkness fell.
The miner-boy turned silent away, and laid himself down again in the
corridor. An absolute joy filled his heart, his bosom, his head, his
whole body. All was safe; all was well. With the helve of his mattock
tight in his grasp, he sank into a dreamless sleep.