The Message
On the morrow Khian slept late, being very weary, and in his sleep
was visited by dreams. They were fantastic dreams of which, when he
awoke, he could remember little, save that they had to do with
pyramids and men with veiled faces and with a giant who bore a great
axe, and with palm trees through which the wind sighed gently, till
presently it changed to the voice of a woman, just such a voice as
that of the messenger who had guided him from the grove, just such a
voice as that of the royal lady who had sat upon the throne in the
temple halls.
Yet, alas! he could not understand what this voice said, and in his
dream, growing angry, he turned to the giant with the axe, bidding him
interpret the meaning of the song. Behold! the black giant was changed
into that Sphinx who sat upon the sands, before which he had been
blindfolded. He stared at the Sphinx and the Sphinx stared back at
him. Then of a sudden it opened its great stone lips and spoke, and
the sound of its voice was like to that of the roll of distant
thunder.
“What is it thou wouldst learn of me, the Ancient, O Man?” asked the
rolling voice. Now in his dream Khian grew frightened and answered at
hazard:
“I would learn how old thou art and what thou hast seen, O Sphinx.”
“Hundreds of millions of years ago,” answered the lips of stone, “I
was shaped in the womb of Fire and cast forth in the agony of the
birth of the world. For tens of millions of years I lay beneath deep
water, and grew in their darkness. The waters receded and lo! I was a
mountain of which the point appeared amidst a forest. Great creatures
crept about my flanks, they roared round me in the mists, thousands of
generations of them, now of this shape and now of that. The mists
departed; I looked upon the sun, a huge ball of flaming red that day
by day rose up over against me. In its fierce heat the forests
withered and passed away in fire. Sands appeared out of it that,
driven by great winds, shaped me to my lion’s shape. A river rolled at
my feet, the river Nile. New beasts took refuge in my shade in place
of the reptiles that were gone; they fought and ravened and mated and
bore their young about me.
“More millions of years went by and there came yet other beasts, hairy
creatures that ran upon two legs and jabbered. These passed and behold
there were men, now of this colour and now of that. Tribe by tribe
these men butchered each other for food and women, dashing out the
brains of their enemies with stones and devouring them, cooked first
in the rays of the sun, and then with fire which they had learned to
make.
“These passed away and there appeared other men who wore garments of
skins and killed their prey with flint-headed arrows and spears.
Yonder in the cliff you may find their graves covered with flat
stones. These men worshipped the sun and me, the rock upon which his
rays fell at dawn. Thus first I became a god. Again there was war
around me and my worshippers were slain, they and their fair-haired
children were all slain. Still their dark-hued conquerors worshipped
the sun and me. Moreover, they were artists and with hard tools they
fashioned my face and form as these appear to-day. Afterwards they
built pyramids and tombs and in them kings and princes were laid to
rest. For generation after generation I watched them come and go, till
at length there were no more of them, and white-robed priests crept
about the ruins of their temples as still they creep to-day. Such is
my history, O Man, that is yet but begun, for when all the gods are
gone and none pour offerings to me or them, still lost in memories I,
who was from the beginning, shall remain until the end. Yet was it of
this that thou wouldst ask me?”
“Nay, O Sphinx. Tell me, what is the name of that wind among the palm
trees of which the sound is as the voice of woman? Whence comes it and
whither does it go?”
“That wind, O Man, blew at the begetting of the world and will blow
until its death, for without it no life can be. It came from God and
to God it returns again, and in heaven and earth its name is _Love_.”
Now Khian would have asked more questions, but could not for suddenly
all his dream vanished and his eyes opened to behold, not the face of
the Sphinx, mighty and solemn, but the ebon features of the giant Ru.
“What is love, O Ru?” he asked, yawning.
“Love!” answered Ru, astonished. “What do I know about love? There are
so many sorts of love; that of men for women, or of women for men,
which is a curse and a madness sent into the world by Set to be its
torment; that of kings for power which is the father of war; that of
merchants for wealth which breeds theft and misery; that of the
learned for wisdom, a bird which never can be snared; that of the
mother for her child, which is holy; and that of the slave for him or
her he serves, which is the only sort I know. Ask it of Roy the
Prophet, though I think he has forgotten all love save that of the
gods and death.”
“It is of the first that I would learn, O Ru, and of it I think that
Roy can tell me nothing, who, as you say, has forgotten all. Whom
shall I ask of this?”
Ru rubbed his black nose and replied:
“Try the first maiden whom you meet when the moon is rising over the
waters of the Nile. Perhaps she can tell you, Lord. Or if that will
not serve so fine a noble, try her whom you saw seated on the throne
last night, for she has studied many things and perhaps love may be
among them. And now, if it pleases you to rise, the Council awaits you
presently, but not, I think, to talk to you of love.”
An hour later Khian stood before Roy and his company.
“Scribe Rasa,” said the Prophet, for although Ru in his cups had
revealed that his true dignity was known, this was not given to him,
“we have written in a roll our answers to the letter of the King
Apepi, which are such as we told you they would be. As to the matter
of the marriage that is offered by the King to that royal lady whom
you saw crowned Queen of Egypt but last night, we have added that you,
his messenger, shall learn her answer from her own lips on the night
of the first full moon after that of her crowning, since she must have
time to consider this great business. Now we pray you to add to this
letter of ours any that it pleases you to send, making report of what
you have heard and seen among us, which report shall be borne
faithfully by our messenger to the Court of your master, the King who
sits at Tanis.”
“It shall be done, Prophet,” said Khian, “though what will chance when
this report reaches the King Apepi, I cannot tell. Meanwhile, is it
still your will that I should abide here among you till that moon
shines, having liberty to move to and fro within your boundaries?”
“Such is the will of the Queen Nefra and of us her councillors, Scribe
Rasa. That is, unless it pleases you to be gone at once.”
“It does not please me, Prophet.”
“Then remain among us, Scribe Rasa, remembering the oath that you have
sworn, that you will reveal no secret of our hiding places, or our
doctrines, or our company, or aught save of that business with which
you have to do.”
“I will remember it,” answered Khian, bowing.
For a while he lingered, talking of little things with the Lord Tau
and other members of the Council in the hope that Nefra herself would
appear to take part in their deliberations. At length, as she did not
come, he went away because he must, and was guided back to his chamber
by Ru.
“I am going to write a letter, Friend Giant,” he said, “which letter
in the end may bring about my end. However, that is some way off, a
month away indeed, and meanwhile, after it is finished, I desire to
study the pyramids and all the other wonders of this place. Now
yesterday a certain youth was my guide who seemed very intelligent. If
he can be found I should be willing to pay him well to continue in
that office while I remain a guest among these graves.”
Ru shook his great head and answered:
“Lord, it is impossible. That youth is one of those idlers who stand
about waiting for food to fall into their mouths, and if it does not
come, move elsewhere. He has moved elsewhere, or at least I have not
seen him this morning, and as I do not know his name I cannot inquire
where he has gone.”
“So be it,” answered Khian, “though, friend Ru, you will forgive me if
I compliment your honesty by saying that you do not lie very well. Now
be pleased to tell me, as this one is lacking, how I can find another
guide.”
“That is easy, Lord. When you are ready, put your head out of the door
and clap your hands. In this place there is always someone listening
and watching, and he will summon me.”
“That I can well believe. Indeed, here I feel as though the very walls
listened and watched.”
“They do,” replied Ru candidly, and departed.
Khian wrote his letter. It was but short, yet, although so skilled a
scribe, it took him a long time, since he knew not what to say or
leave unsaid. In the end it ran thus:
“From the Scribe Rasa to His Majesty, King Apepi, the good God:
“As commanded I, the Scribe Rasa, have come to the habitations of the
Order of the Dawn who dwell in certain ruined temples and tombs
beneath the shadow of the Great Pyramids, and been received by their
prophet Roy and the members of their Council. I presented the letter
of your Majesty to this Council, also the gifts your Majesty was
pleased to send, which gifts they refused for religious reasons. I
have learned that the royal Nefra, daughter of Kheperra who once ruled
in the South, is living here in the keeping of the Brethren of the
Dawn. Last night I saw this princess, who is young, crowned with much
ceremony as Queen of all Egypt before a great company of veiled men
who, I was told, were gathered from all over the world. The Council of
the Dawn send herewith an answer to the letter of your Majesty which
has not been shown to me. As touching your Majesty’s proposal of
marriage, however, the Lady Nefra, seated on a throne and speaking as
a queen, said to me that she would consider of the matter and give me
her answer to be handed to your Majesty at the time of the next full
moon, until when I must abide here and wait in patience. Here then I
stay, having no choice in the matter, that I may fulfil the commands
of your Majesty and on the appointed day bear back the answer of the
Lady Nefra, though whether this will be in writing or by message, I do
not know.
“Sealed with the seal of the Envoy of your Majesty,
Rasa the Scribe.”
When Khian had copied this letter and done it up into a roll,
wondering much what Apepi his father would say and do when he read it
and that by which it was accompanied, he ate of the food that was
brought to him and afterwards went to the door of his chamber and
clapped his hands, as he had been directed to do. Instantly from the
recesses of the dark passage appeared Ru accompanied by a white-robed
man whom Khian knew for one of the councillors. To this councillor he
gave the roll that he had written to be despatched together with the
answer of the Council to King Apepi at Tanis. When he was gone Ru led
Khian through the great hall where Nefra had been crowned and thence,
meeting no one, by a secret doorway to the desert beyond.
“Where have all those gone whom we saw last night?” asked Khian.
“Where do the bats go, Lord, when the sun arises? They vanish away and
are no more seen, yet they are not dead but only hidden. So it is with
the Company of the Dawn. Search for them among the fishermen of the
Nile; search for them among the Bedouins of the desert; search for
them in the Courts of foreign kings; search where you will, yet be
sure that neither you nor all the spies of the Shepherd king will find
one of them.”
“Truly this is a land of ghosts,” said Khian. “Almost could I believe
that those veiled ones were not men but spirits.”
“Perhaps,” answered Ru enigmatically; “and now, where would it please
you to wander?”
“To the pyramids,” said Khian.
So to the pyramids they went, walking round all of them, while Khian
marvelled at their greatness.
“Is it possible that these stone mountains can be climbed?” he asked
presently.
Ru led him round the corner of the second pyramid and there, seated on
the sand and playing pipes that made a wild music, were three men, the
Captain of the Pyramids and two of his sons.
“Here are those who can answer your question, Lord,” he said, then
turning to the men added, “This lord, who is an envoy and a guest,
desires to know whether the pyramids can be climbed.”
“We awaited you,” said the Captain gravely, “as we have been commanded
to do. Is it now your pleasure to see this feat performed?”
“It is,” answered Khian. “Moreover, the climber will not lack a
present, though I who am a scaler of mountains hold the thing to be
impossible.”
“Be pleased to stand back a little way and watch,” said the Captain.
Then he and his two sons threw off their long robes and clothed only
in a linen garment about their middles, ran to that pyramid which was
in front of them and separated. One son disappeared to the north and
the other to the south, while the father began to spring up the
eastern face as a goat springs up a precipice. Up he went, high and
higher yet, while Khian watched amazed, till at last he saw him gain
the very crest. Lo! as he did so there appeared with him the two sons
who, unseen, had travelled thither by other roads. Moreover, presently
there appeared a fourth figure clad in white.
“Who is the fourth?” exclaimed Khian. “But three started to climb, and
now, behold! there are four.”
Ru stared at the top of the pyramid, then answered stupidly:
“Surely staring at those polished stones has dazed you, Lord. I see
but three, doubtless the Captain and his two sons.”
Khian looked again and said:
“It is true that now I also see but three. Yet there were four,” he
added obstinately.
Presently the climbers began to descend, following one another down
the eastern face. At length they reached the ground safely, and having
donned their robes, came to Khian, bowing, and asked him whether he
were now satisfied that the pyramids could be climbed.
“I am satisfied that this pyramid can be climbed, though of the others
I know nothing,” he answered. “Yet before I give you the reward you
have earned so well, tell me, Captain, how it comes about that you and
your sons, who were three at its base, became four upon its crest?”
“What does my Lord mean?” asked the Sheik gravely.
“What I say, Captain; neither more nor less. When you stood upon the
top yonder, with the three of you was a fourth, a slender figure clad
in white. I swear it by all the gods.”
“It may be so,” answered the Sheik imperturbably, “only then, as we
saw no one, it must have been given to my Lord to perceive the Spirit
of the Pyramids herself who accompanied us, invisible to our eyes. Had
this chanced when the full moon shines, it would not have been so
wonderful, since then she is apt to wander, or so it is reported, but
that he should have seen her in the light of day is most strange and
portends we know not what.”
Now Khian began to ply the man and his sons with questions about this
Spirit of the Pyramids and whether she would be visible if they came
to look for her when the full moon shone, but from them learned
nothing, since to every question they answered that they did not know.
Next he inquired of them whether they would teach him how to climb the
pyramids as they did, if he paid them well. They replied that except
by order of the Council they would not, because the business was very
dangerous, and if aught happened to him, his blood would be on their
hands. So in the end he made them a large present, for which they
thanked him with many bows, and, just as the sun began to set,
departed back to the temple.
As they went side by side, Khian, who was lost in thought and wonder,
heard Ru mutter:
“A second whom the gods have smitten with the desire to climb the
pyramids. Who could have believed that there were two such mad people
in the world? What does it mean? Surely such folly must have a
meaning, for among my people, the Ethiopians, they say that the
maddest are always the most inspired.”
Twice or thrice he muttered thus, till at last Khian asked him
suddenly:
“Who, then, was the other fool to whom the gods gave the desire to
climb the pyramids? Was she perchance that one whom I saw standing
with the Sheik and his sons upon yonder crest?”
“No, I think not,” answered the startled Ru confusedly. “Indeed, I am
sure not, since to-day she has other business to attend. Also, I
should have known----” Then he remembered and stopped.
“So there is a lady who loves this sport! Well, I have heard as much
before, and, friend Ru, as you seem to know her, if you will arrange
that I can follow it in her company, you will find yourself growing
richer than you are.”
“Here is the door to the temple,” answered Ru, with a grin, “and, by
the way, the second prophet, Tau, bade me to pray you to eat with him
and others this night.”
“I obey,” said Khian, hoping in his heart that one of those others
would be the lovely lady whom he had seen crowned as Queen of Egypt.
Yet this was not so, for at that meal were only Tau and with him three
aged councillors, who, when they had partaken sparingly, slipped away,
leaving him and his host together. Then these two began to talk, each
of them seeking knowledge of the other.
Soon Khian learned that this Tau, the second Prophet of the Order,
though not Egyptian by blood, had been born to a high station and
great wealth. He had been a warrior and a statesman also, and, it
seemed, might have become a king, either in Cyprus or Syria, where he
would not say. Far and wide he had travelled about the world,
acquiring the languages of many peoples and much learning, and
studying religions and philosophies. Yet in the end he had abandoned
all and become one of the Priesthood of the Dawn.
Khian asked him why he who, as he understood, might have sat upon a
throne and mingled with the great ones of the earth while children
grew up about him had chosen instead to dwell in tombs with the
brethren of a secret order.
“Would you learn? Then I will tell you,” answered Tau. “I have done
this because I seek peace, peace for Egypt and the world and peace for
my own soul, and in pomps and governments there is no peace but only
strivings that for the most part end in war to win more wealth and
powers that we do not need. Scribe Rasa,” he added, looking at him
keenly, “were you other than you are, a prince, for instance, I think
that perhaps, had you instruction in our philosophy, in the end you
might prove to be such another as I am, or even as is Roy the Prophet,
and turning your back upon what the world calls greatness, might
follow in this same path of peace and service.”
“Were I such a one, Priest Tau, it might be so, though other roads run
to peace through service than those that lead there by monasteries or
tombs, and each must follow that which lies open to his feet.”
“That is true and well spoken, Scribe Rasa.”
“Yet,” went on Khian, “being athirst for knowledge I would learn of
these mysteries of yours and of how their servants may attain to this
peace and help to call it down upon the world. Is it possible while I
sojourn here that one could be found to instruct me in them?”
“I think that it is possible, but of this matter we will talk again.
Sleep well, Scribe Rasa, and take counsel with your heart before you
enter on this difficult path.”
Then he rose and Ru appeared to lead Khian back to his chamber.