THE SPIDER’S WEB
Captain Mardux and his troopers felt themselves highly honored as
escorts of the highest born and most beautiful woman in the world,
when they departed from Persepolis with the Princess Athura. When she
chose to ride a horse, the captain knelt that she might place one small
foot on his knee and thence leap into the saddle. When she chose to
ride in a litter, the captain had difficulty in choosing from the many
volunteers those who should be carriers. He had to be severe in denying
some the right to stand guard around her tent as she slept, since all
could not do so. These hard-fisted, hard-riding sons of Persia deemed
themselves guardians of a goddess; and all of them were her devotees.
Her journey was a pleasant pastime.
They arrived at Susa on the sixth day and were met by the governor of
the city with all his chief officials. They conducted the Princess to
the royal palace, where she rested a day. The city was gayly decorated
in her honor. Then a company of Medean cavalry, under command of a
noble Mede, relieved Captain Mardux and his men of their charge, and
with them the Princess continued her journey towards Hamadan. From Susa
to Behistun the road was better and the pace more rapid. On the tenth
day they stood beneath the shadow of the great rock and were about to
turn eastward across the mountains, when a courier met them, bearing
a letter, informing Athura that King Bardya had gone to a castle in
Nicæa on a hunting-trip and asking her to come to him there. Athura and
her escort therefore took a road leading northerly into Western Medea.
Thus it came about that Captains Arios and Mardux, pushing forward in
desperate haste to rescue the Princess from the usurper, and supposing
that she had gone direct to Hamadan, missed her by turning to the right
at Behistun two hours after she and her train had disappeared in the
northern hills. Thus it came about also that the Prince of Iran and his
weary ten thousand, having avoided Babylon on the right and Susa on the
left, lest they should meet with opposition and be delayed, when they
reached the great highway between Persepolis and Susa and learned that
the Princess had gone northward to Hamadan, delayed not to await the
coming of the Persian army but also turned northward.
Athura’s heart beat high with anticipated pleasure. A decree had been
published in Susa announcing the death of Cambyses in Syria and the
peaceful adherence of the King’s army to Bardya. Civil war would thus
be averted. Her beloved brother would doubtless call the Prince of
Iran to be his chief counselor, the second man in the empire. Nothing
would hinder her marriage to him. The future seemed indeed bright with
promise. The Medean escort was attentive and obedient to her slightest
wish. At Nicæa a second message awaited Athura, informing her that the
King was at the castle of Sictachotes, a score of miles farther north,
and bidding her come there. Here a new escort took charge, composed
of soldiers and priests whose appearance did not at all please the
Princess. She did not hesitate to go forward, however, but she resolved
that she would persuade her brother to discharge from his service men
who resembled robbers rather than soldiers.
It was late afternoon when they arrived in sight of the castle or
stronghold of the false Bardya. The castle was an irregular pile of
stone buildings on the summit of a hill, the crater of a long-extinct
volcano. A small lake filled the mouth of the crater and on its rim the
buildings had been constructed. At the foot of the cone and completely
surrounding it was a high stone wall through which a huge brazen
gate gave entrance and egress. The buildings were low and of rude
architecture, except one tower which rose to a height of fifty feet and
was about thirty feet square.
The Princess wondered that her brother should bring her to such an
uninviting place; but, remembering his passion for hunting, she had no
misgivings. The great gate swung open to admit her and her escort, and
then it closed with a clang. Having ascended the hill to a level space
in front of the high tower, the escort dismounted and its leader came
to assist Athura to alight. But she said haughtily to him: “Go, call
the King. Why is he not here to meet me?”
The officer bowed low and went into the castle, whence he presently
returned with a richly dressed official who forthwith prostrated
himself before royalty. “May you live forever, O gracious lady!” he
said loudly. “The King is out hunting, not expecting you until the
morrow. But all things are ready for you. Be pleased to alight and
enter!”
The Princess then dismounted and followed the official into the castle.
The room they first entered was in the base of the high tower and
occupied its whole space. It was richly furnished with tables, couches,
and rugs. Draperies concealed the rough walls. Athura had brought with
her three maids. Several others presently appeared from side-rooms and
humbly awaited her pleasure. The official, who proved to be the King’s
chamberlain, having called the servants, now said: “My Lord the King
will return shortly. Meanwhile, if it please you, dinner will be served
here. Let the maids be disposed of in the adjoining room. Should you
desire to take the air, there is a pleasant walk around the lake. If
anything be needed, pull the cord at the side here and a gong will call
servants. Permit me to retire and order your dinner served.”
The Princess assented and the chamberlain, with a low salaam, departed.
Having bathed, and changed her riding habit to one more comfortable,
she ate dinner alone. She was grieved and impatient. But she was to
suffer further disappointment. For at sundown a messenger appeared who
reported that a revolt had broken out in the army at Hamadan, thus
compelling the King’s instant return to that city. He had departed at
once, but promised to return quickly and escort her in person to the
capital. He bade her rest meanwhile at the castle.
Athura was furious. It seemed strange that her brother should treat her
thus. He must be indeed changed from that former bold youth who would
have let state matters go to ruin rather than fail to come to her at
once when so near! She rang for the chamberlain, and when that worthy
appeared she inquired, “Was the King here this morning?”
“Yes, gracious lady,” he replied humbly.
“How did he seem? Was he well?”
“He seemed very well but somewhat nervous.”
“I do not understand his strange behavior! Order immediate preparations
for my departure in the morning to Hamadan! I shall go to him and
ascertain the cause of this neglect.”
The chamberlain raised his hands in protest. He shook his head and
salaamed humbly.
“I have an order from the King, gracious lady,” he said. “It is that I
safely keep you here until he return.”
“What! Am I a prisoner?”
“Ah, no! Say not so! But this is a very unsafe country,--wolves, bears,
robbers, and brigands! It is not safe for you without a strong escort
to go beyond the castle-walls. The escort which brought you hither has
departed for Nicæa again, and only the necessary garrison is here. Very
sorrowful am I, most gracious lady, but I dare not disobey orders. The
King, I assure you, will come soon.”
“Listen!” exclaimed Athura, furiously. “I care nothing for the safety
of this castle! I order you to prepare this garrison to march with me
to Hamadan on the morrow. I will answer to the King for you and no harm
shall come to you. Let the castle take care of itself!”
But the chamberlain again shook his head and wrung his hands together
in simulated agitation. “Impossible, utterly impossible! The King’s
orders must be obeyed. You know not this King, gracious lady! He is a
magician who can destroy one, soul and body. No, no!”
“A magician! What mean you? My brother Bardya a magician? Since when
gained he that power?”
But the chamberlain, seeing that he had almost revealed his master’s
real identity, shook his head and continued to wring his hands,
protesting: “I meant only that the King’s eyes were upon all and over
all! But I cannot disobey him, and--I will not!”
He abruptly turned and left the room. Athura went to one of the narrow
windows and looked tearfully out upon the yellow landscape of hill
and mountain, on which the setting sun was casting its last mellow
beams. Her eyes ran over the courtyard, the steep descent of hill,
the high wall below with its brazen gate and its sentries, posted at
intervals on the top. A great loneliness seized upon her, a cold dread
of impending evil gripped her heart, and a terror of unknown forces
that seemed to surround her. Turning from the window, she met the eyes
of one of the maids compassionately watching her. The expression of her
face caught Athura’s attention. Repressing her tears lest the servants
should deem her weak, she addressed the maid:
“What is your name?”
“Lauretha, gracious mistress,” was the answer.
“Who are you and whence come you?”
“I am a daughter of the captain of the guard, and I came from Nicæa
hither.”
“Tell me, whose is this castle and how came my brother here? He has
been acting most unbrotherly to me. Have you a brother whom you love
most dearly? And would he call you to a place like this and then not
meet you, or run away to the city without visiting you?”
The girl’s eyes filled with tears. The beauty and engaging personality
of Athura had already made a deep impression upon her. She had heard in
the old days of this beautiful daughter of Cyrus as a very goddess of
wisdom and beauty. Now that she beheld her, she was her devotee. She
drew nearer and, kneeling, caught hold of the hem of Athura’s dress and
kissed it.
“Gracious Queen of the World, I am but a humble girl,” she said,
sobbing: “My parentage is not even noble. But I place my soul and body
at your service! Let me make confession to you and I will trust in your
forgiveness for my enforced service here. If you will follow me to the
chamber above, where you are to sleep and where we may be alone, I will
tell you the secret of your situation.”
“Arise and be assured of my good-will. I will follow you,” answered the
Princess, touched by the girl’s devotion and wondering what she meant.
The girl rose and, going to a curtained door at one side of the room,
pulled aside the curtain and guided the Princess up a narrow stairway,
in the thick stone wall, to a chamber above and of the same size and as
richly furnished as that below. Here the Princess seated herself on a
divan and the girl again knelt at her feet on the floor.
“Tell me what you mean,” said Athura, kindly.
“I know the man who calls himself Bardya. He owns this castle,” said
the girl, speaking rapidly. “I also have seen your brothers, both the
great Cambyses, the King, and the strong, happy Prince Bardya. That
was years ago when I lived in Hamadan and my father was a soldier
of the palace-guard under the noble Otanes. I also know the regent,
Patatheites, whom Cambyses, the Great King, left to rule in Medea. O
gracious lady, it breaks my heart to tell you! But I know that Bardya,
your brother, is dead and this one who calls himself Bardya is none
other than Gaumata, priest of the Magi, whose ears Cyrus, the Great
King, cut off! I have seen Gaumata and Patatheites together. I know
that Gaumata pretends to be Bardya. The chamberlain is one of his
tribe. This great tower is a fire-worshiper’s shrine and on its top is
an altar on which fire is kept burning. I know not why I tell you this,
except that when I look upon your face I love and worship you. O that I
might save you! I fear this prison is intended to be your tomb!”
Athura sat very still during this revelation. Her head seemed to reel.
The earth and all her golden castles seemed whirling and falling. Of
course Bardya would have come to meet her! She knew the girl was
telling the truth. Fool, to be so easily beguiled! Bardya really dead!
The old sorrow resurged in her soul. Death or worse her fate! She sat
still and silent a long time in wide-eyed despair while the maid at her
feet with bowed head wept bitterly. Presently she sighed deeply and
asked, “Why do you weep, little sister?”
“Because of your cruel fate, gracious lady,” replied the maid. “You
know not the magic power of these priests! Even now they may know that
I have told this to you and even now they may be preparing the torture
chamber for me. They are terrible men! They deal with the demons of the
hills and mountains. They sacrifice to them, even offering up human
lives sometimes. They are able to read one’s thoughts. They bring up
the dead and make them talk. Only Ahura-Mazda can protect you, and I
know not if He will!”
“Be comforted, child,” said Athura, calmly. “Let us escape in some
manner. Once before I fled from a prison when Cambyses would have slain
me. Is there no way of escape?”
“I know of none. These walls have secret doors. I have seen Gaumata
appear in these rooms even without opening a door. But he is a
magician. I do not know the secret doors. If we could escape from this
castle, the great wall and its watch is there.”
“You said that your father is captain of the guard. Might he not assist
us?”
“I know not. He fears the Magi. His father was a tenant of this Gaumata
who, for his faithfulness, has promised him great fortune and a high
command. But he is a brave man and a good father.”
“Such a man must have a good heart. We shall talk with him presently.”
“But these magicians,--is it not useless to strive against them?
They look one in the eye and point their fingers and say, ‘You are a
dog! Bark!’ And that one gets down on his hands and acts like a dog
and barks. Or they will say to you that at a certain hour you must
do something they order; and, at that hour, you must do it! They
put spells on men, and such men thereafter have no power. Oh, it is
dreadful, how at night they call up and talk with the dead. The evil
spirits help them.”
“I have seen their spell-working, child. But this I know, as the great
teacher, Belteshazzer, said, they can do no harm to those who love
truth and serve the true and only God. For He sends mighty spirits of
good intent who encamp about the good and who drive away the evil ones.
Fear not, child, I dread not this Gaumata and all his evil powers. He
shall not harm us. When does your father have liberty so that he might
come to us?”
“At sundown he changes the guard. Thereafter he may come.”
The girl went to a window and looked down into the court below. She
then clapped her hands softly and motioned to some one below.
“Ah, there he stands now!” she said. “He has looked up and will come
here. I will meet him.”
She ran down the narrow stair, and presently her voice and the heavier
tones of a man’s voice were heard in conversation. Athura seated
herself on a divan in such position that the rays of the setting sun,
passing through the open window, rested upon her face and hair, giving
to her regal beauty a halo like that of a goddess. A moment later the
maid reappeared, followed by a powerfully built man whose helmet and
breastplate were resplendent in gold and jewels. His face was strong
and bold, the countenance of one accustomed to command, but now it was
clouded and sullen.
“This is my father, Gustasp, gracious mistress,” said the maid,
presenting him.
The man looked an instant into the eyes of the Princess. Then his hand
quickly removed his helmet. Wonder, admiration, recognition, and awe
expressed themselves in his countenance. He prostrated himself at her
feet. He had known the kingly Cyrus and the high glance of his eye,
before which the most rebellious of men had quailed; and here was the
image of Cyrus, softened and beautified in the feminine, but, none the
less, with his lofty, commanding spirit, gazing upon him from eyes
whose glance he could not return.
“Hail, gracious daughter of Cyrus!” he mumbled, striking the
rug-covered floor with his forehead. “I await your commands!”
“I have seen you before, Captain Gustasp, when my father lived and
Bardya, my brother, and I played in the park at Hamadan. Is it not so?
Arise and answer!”
The soldier rose and stood in deferential attitude before his fair
interlocutor.
“I remember, most royal lady,” he stammered.
“If I mistake not I rode on that broad back of yours, and you made for
me a right-spirited horse.”
The strong features of the soldier quivered as memory brought back
those days, when he, as one of the guards on duty at the King’s palace,
not only watched over the safety of the children of the King but played
with them. Halcyon days! The tears started to his eyes.
“I remember,” he answered.
“And now I am your prisoner!”
Again the man fell with his face to the floor. “Say not so, Queen of
the World!” he exclaimed. “Rather am I your humble slave. If you will
let me speak, I will explain.”
“Say on!”
He raised his head from the floor but continued to kneel, while he
spoke rapidly: “After I returned from the funeral of the royal Cyrus,
I was not in favor with the Great King, Cambyses. His dislike for me
arose when he and your royal brother, Bardya, and you, played together
as children and, by the express order of good King Cyrus, I watched
that Cambyses did not use violence upon you and the younger brother.
He swore, then, that when he came to man’s estate I should die. When,
therefore, the guards were called to Hamadan and dismissed by him, I
fled; and, luckily, I escaped before his order for my execution could
be fulfilled. I came to these mountains and was concealed by the Magian
priests who had been friends of my father. Then I heard, gracious
lady, that both you and Prince Bardya had been foully murdered by
King Cambyses; and I wept much. For I loved you and Bardya when you
were children. For me the light of the world grew dim. Wonder not,
therefore, that I willingly served Gaumata when he overthrew Cambyses.
Had not Cambyses slain those I loved and also sought to slay me? I
did not know you when you entered here yesterday. You were veiled. My
information was that the King’s wife was coming hither; and I dreamed
not that you were she. May Ahriman wither my soul if I speak not the
truth!”
His daughter sank upon the floor by her father’s side, exclaiming,
“Truly he speaks truth, gracious mistress!”
A wave of sympathy swept over the beautiful countenance of the
Princess. Impulsively she arose, bent over, and touched the man’s
forehead with her hand, saying: “I believe you, my good Gustasp. Ah,
those were pleasant days, the days of my childhood. But they have gone
to return no more. The bloody hand of death has taken my father and
brothers. Only I, of all the royal house of Cyrus, remain; and I am a
prisoner to this man, Gaumata. But what now? To whom, O Gustasp, do you
owe allegiance?”
The man did not hesitate. “There is only one sovereign on earth for me,
the divine daughter of Cyrus!” he answered passionately. “Had I not
believed you dead, I would never have entered the service of Gaumata.”
“I am in your hands. What do you advise?”
“You are safe in my hands, gracious Queen! I will guard you with my
life. But I am slow of wit and not good at making plans. I can execute
orders but not make them.”
Athura smiled upon the kneeling giant.
“You may arise and be seated there near the door,” she said. “Let us
think of some plan. How many men have you in this castle?”
Gustasp rose and sat on a stool near the door.
“Four hundred and twenty,” he answered.
“Are they trustworthy?”
“Not against Gaumata. They are his personal followers. But they are
a brave and reckless lot. Some of them have been brigands all their
lives, until called hither by the new King’s order.”
“It is apparent to you, Captain Gustasp, that I am no friend of this
Gaumata. I have been brought here by lying letters purporting to be
from my brother, Bardya, and I knew not the truth until your daughter
revealed it to me. Doubtless I have been brought here to suffer death.
For, as long as one of the house of Cyrus remain, so long will the
usurper be insecure on his throne. I remember Gaumata. I saw him
during the last year of Cyrus and I heard of his punishment. Now has
come his revenge! But I shall escape. There is one who comes from the
west as swiftly as horses may bring him. Do you remember the youth
who played with us in those days? That grave youth who was a man even
before he was old enough to enlist in the King’s guards--Darius, son of
Hystaspis, King of Iran?”
“I remember him. Has not his fame filled the whole earth? All young
Aryans swear by him!”
“True! Had not Cambyses cruelly interfered, I would this day be his
wife. He took an oath to Cyrus, my father, to support Cambyses and
Bardya on their thrones, as long as they should live. Death has
released him from the oath. It may not be that I shall reign alone as
Queen, since it is contrary to the customs of the Aryans. The King of
Iran is now the head of the Achæmenian royal family and entitled to
reign as King of the Aryans. When he shall pass the bridge to heaven,
the Prince of Iran will be King. The world will then know a just and
mighty master. And I shall reign with him. Then, Gustasp, I may be able
to reward faithful service. Is it not possible for me to escape? I
escaped from Cambyses alone, disguised as a youth. Have you not a horse
that I might ride away upon this night?”
Gustasp was troubled. He gazed thoughtfully out of the window a moment
in silence. The red rim of the sun was disappearing behind a distant
ridge.
“This is a wild portion of Medea,” he said presently. “Brigands roam
about. Traveling without a large escort is dangerous. It is now almost
night. For a week there can be no danger to you here. I am in command
of the Guard. It will not be so much a prison for you as a place of
safety. To-morrow I will send to the hills for one who owes his life
to me. I saved him from the wrath of Gaumata, who had ordered me to
execute him. This man will I send with a message to your friends.
He may bring help. The chamberlain of the castle is a priest of the
Magi. He was in the room below as we came through. He is here as your
guard, I suppose. But this night I shall sleep at the foot of this
stairway and keep watch over you. You are weary and must have sleep. My
daughter, if you will, shall watch with me. Perhaps to-morrow we may
think of a better plan.”
Athura rose and went to the window, where she stood some moments in
silence, contemplating the forbidding aspect of the darkening hills
and considering the words of the captain. She was, indeed, weary. She
therefore signified her assent to the suggestion, and the captain
retired. His daughter remained with the Princess. The captain that
night slept on the floor of the room below, with his body across the
doorway leading to the chamber above and his sword at his side.