The Spirit of the Pyramids
That night Khian slept little; his thoughts would not let him sleep.
They filled his mind with problems and as in a mirror showed him the
pitfalls that lay about his feet. He, the Prince of the North, was
sworn a brother of the Order of the Dawn, which his father, the King,
threatened to destroy, and how did these two offices agree? Could he
smite with the one hand and defend with the other? Nay, it was
impossible. Therefore he must cease either to be a prince, or to be a
brother. There his path was clear. Let the rank go; indeed, had it not
already been taken away from him with his own consent? Therefore, why
should he trouble about it now? Henceforth he was nothing but Brother
Khian of the Order of the Dawn. Nay, he was something more--an
ambassador who awaited a certain answer which must be conveyed to the
King who sent him on his mission. It was as to a matter of marriage;
as to whether a royal lady would become the wife of that king or would
choose to face his wrath.
Here again his task was easy. He must deliver the answer, whatever it
might be, after which his duty came to an end and he would remain
nothing more than a Brother of the Order of the Dawn, and perhaps a
Prince. If that answer were such as the King desired, then doubtless
he, the ambassador, would be allowed to go his ways in peace, though
no more as heir to the throne of the North. But if it were very
different; if, for example, it announced that this lady refused the
King in favour of the ambassador who chanced to be his son--what? Why!
Death--no less--death or flight!
Yet at this thought Khian was not dismayed, he even smiled a little as
it crossed his mind, remembering the teachings of his new philosophy,
that all was in the hands of Heaven and that naught happened save that
which must happen. He did not desire to die who now had so much for
which to live, but if death came that philosophy taught him not to be
afraid. Nor did he write himself down a traitor to his duty, because
he knew that in any case Nefra would have refused this monstrous
marriage, of which she had spoken to him as an insult. Moreover, as
yet he did not know that any thought of him would weigh with her. He
had offered her his love, but she had not accepted this gift. She had
said that she could not answer, that he must ask the “Spirit of the
Pyramids” whether she, Nefra the Queen, loved or did not love him,
Khian the Prince. What could such words mean? There was no Spirit of
the Pyramids; everywhere he had inquired of this legend and learned
that it was built of air. How could he ask of a spirit that which a
woman refused to tell, and where should he find this oracle?
He was told to seek it by the light of the full moon among the ancient
graves. Well, that on his part nothing might be lacking, he would seek
like any simple fool, and if he found nothing, would understand that
Nothing was his answer. Then, seeking no more, he would demand from
Roy the writing that he must bear to King Apepi and depart
sore-hearted to accomplish its delivery. This done he would abide the
wrath of the King and, should he escape, would wander away to such
distant place as Roy or the Council might appoint and there preach the
doctrines of the Dawn or do such things as he was commanded, turning
his heart from woman and the joys of life.
Soon he would know; soon all would be finished in this way or in that,
for on the morrow of the night of full moon the young Queen must give
her answer to the demand of Apepi and he, the ambassador, must bear
that answer back to Tanis. Meanwhile this was certain--he who had
never loved before worshipped the maiden Nefra with body and with
spirit and above all earthly things desired her as his wife; so much
so that if he were to lose her he cared not what else he might lose,
even to life itself.
It was the appointed time and Khian, quite alone, for as an admitted
brother now he could pass where he would, unquestioned and unwatched,
wandered to and fro among the tombs which surrounded the greatest of
the pyramids. He was sad-hearted who believed his to be but a fool’s
errand; moreover, all his troubles weighed upon his soul. The vast
solemnity of the place, too, with its endless streets of graves above
which the pyramids towered eternally, crushed him. What a spot was
this for a love quest, here surrounded by the monuments which told of
the end of all human things. Hundreds of years ago those who slept
within these tombs had ceased from mortal loves and hates, and as they
were, soon he would be also, perchance before another full moon shone
in yonder sky. He wondered whether they looked upon him now with calm,
invisible eyes; not one, but ten thousand spirits of the pyramids.
He sat him down upon a stone in the midst of that deep silence which
was only broken from time to time by the melancholy howlings of some
jackal seeking food, and watched the shadows creep across the sand. At
length, growing weary, he covered his face with his hands and brooded
on the mystery of all things, as was natural in such a place, and
whence men came and whither they must go, a problem that not even Roy
could solve.
He heard nothing, yet suddenly, why he did not know, he was moved to
let fall his hands and look about him. Surely something stirred yonder
in the shadow of a great tomb. Perhaps it was a night-haunting beast.
Nay, it seemed too tall. It came out of that shadow and for a moment
could be seen flitting to the shelter of another tomb where it
vanished. Surely it was a white-veiled woman or a ghost.
Khian was frightened, his hair rose upon his head. Yet springing to
his feet he followed it. He came to the tomb where it had disappeared.
It was gone. Nay, there it was far away, shaping a course, it would
seem, toward the second pyramid, that of the Pharaoh Khafra. Again he
followed, but fast as he went, that figure went faster, now hidden and
now seen, so that when at length it reached the north face of the
second pyramid called _Ur-Khafra_, or “Greatest Khafra,” it was a
spear’s cast in front of him.
Surely, he thought, it would halt there. But it did not. It began to
glide up the face of the pyramid and then, at the height of a tall
palm tree, it disappeared.
Now Khian more than once had climbed this second pyramid by its
northern face and knew that there was no opening in it. Therefore it
would seem that what he had seen was indeed a ghost which had melted
away as ghosts are said to do. Still, to satisfy himself, though
fearfully, he climbed after it and when he had scaled some fifty feet
of the steep side, stopped astonished, for behold! there in the
pyramid was what seemed to be an open door beyond which a passage ran
downwards. Moreover, in that passage lamps were set at a distance from
each other. He hesitated, for he was much afraid, but at length,
thinking to himself that ghosts need no lamps and that but one, man or
woman, had entered in front of him, he grew courageous and followed.
For some five and thirty paces this passage ran downwards steeply
between walls of granite, then for another thirty paces it ran on upon
the level, ending at last in a large chamber hewn from the living rock
and roofed with great painted slabs of stone leaning against each
other to bear the mighty weight of the pyramid above. In this darksome
place, sunk into the rock, stood a sarcophagus of granite and naught
else.
Khian crept down the passages by the light of the lamps, his footsteps
echoing against their walls of stone, and from the shelter of a huge
half-opened granite door peeped into the tomb chamber. It was lit by
one lamp that stood upon the sarcophagus whereof the feeble rays shone
like a star in the black gloom of the vaulted hall. This gloom he
searched with his eyes. In vain; he could see no one, the veiled shape
he had followed was not; or perchance it had departed by some farther
door into the bowels of the pyramid.
Muttering a prayer for protection against the spirit of the Pharaoh
upon whose rest he broke, and drawing his bronze sword lest he should
find that he had been lured into this dreadful place by evildoers,
Khian crept forward through the gloom, very carefully, for there might
be pitfalls in the rocky floor. Coming at length to the sarcophagus he
stood irresolute, for of a sudden his courage seemed to fail him.
What if in truth he had been following a ghost and that ghost should
spring upon him from behind! Nay, he would be brave. Did ghosts set
lamps in niches? Their shapes showed that they were ancient lamps, it
was true; perhaps the same that were used by the builders of the
pyramid a thousand years before, or by those who bore the body of the
king to its last resting place. Yet lamps did not burn eternally,
unless indeed they were ghostly lamps; the oil in them must be new and
set there by human hands. The thought gave him courage and he stood
still who had meditated flight. There was a sound at the far end of
the hall, a rustling sound that checked the beating of his heart. In
the darkness appeared a cloud of white which floated forward. The
ghost was upon him!
He stood where he was--perchance because he could not stir. The
white-veiled shape drew near and halted. Now only the width of the
tomb was between them and he stared at it over the flame of the lamp
but could see nothing because the face was covered, like the face of
one new-dead. In his terror he lifted the sword as though to stab at
this unearthly thing. Then a soft voice spoke, saying:
“O Seeker of the Spirit of the Pyramids, would you greet her with a
sword-thrust, and if so, why?”
“Because I am afraid,” he answered. “That which is veiled is always
terrible, especially in such a place as this.”
As he spoke the veil fell, and in the lamplight he saw the form and
the beautiful, flushed face of Nefra.
“What is the meaning of this play, O Queen?” he asked faintly.
“Does Khian, the heir of the King of the North, name me Queen?” she
asked in a mocking voice. “Well, if so, he is right, since here above
the bones of him who, history tells, was my forefather and of whose
throne I am the heritor, so I should be called. Prince Khian, you
sought the Spirit of the Pyramids who never was except in fable, and
you have found a queen who is both flesh and spirit. If still you have
aught to say to her, speak on, since time is short and soon she may be
missed.”
“I have nothing to say except what I have said already. Nefra, I love
you well and I would learn of you whether you love me. I pray you play
with me no more, but let me hear the truth.”
“It is short and simple,” she answered, raising her head and looking
straight into his eyes. “Khian, if you love me well, I love you
better, for of this treasure woman has more to give than man.”
His mind reeled beneath the weight of her words and his body with it,
so that he must rest his hand upon the stone of the tomb to save
himself from falling. Yet his first thought was angry and broke from
his lips in a sharp question.
“If that be so, Nefra, what need to bring me to this dreadful place of
death to tell me that it is so? What need to make me follow a dream
and a ghost that I might find a woman? Surely the jest is
ill-conceived.”
“Not so much so as you think, Khian,” she answered gently. “Yesterday
I could not tell you what I longed to speak, because, being what I am,
I must lay the matter before others, I, who am not the mistress of
myself, but the servant of a cause. Therefore I sought time till I had
learned that what I desired was the will of those who are set above me
and, as they declare, of Heaven which is set above them. Had it been
otherwise, you would have seen no Spirit of the Pyramids to-night and
no Queen Nefra ere you departed to-morrow, and thus would have had
your answer which I should have been spared the pain of speaking.”
“Then Roy and the rest approve, Nefra?”
“Aye, they approve; indeed, it seems that from the first they hoped
for this and therefore brought us together as much as might be,
because they trust that so Egypt may once more be united and that thus
their policy may prosper through our love.”
“Much must happen before that can be,” said Khian sadly.
“I know it, Khian. Great dangers threaten us. Indeed, I think that
they are near. It is for this reason that, playing the part of a
ghost, I have led you to this ancient sepulchre, believed of all to be
haunted by the dead, that you may learn its secret and at need make of
it your hiding place, Khian. Now I will show you the trick of the door
in the casing of the pyramid, revealed to me by right of birth and to
certain others by right of office, for from generation to generation
this secret has descended as an inheritance in the family of the
Captain of the Pyramids who are sworn not to disclose it, even under
torture. Look, Khian.”
Lifting the lamp Nefra held it above her head and pointed to the end
of the tomb chamber, where by its light he saw a large number of great
jars set against the wall.
“Those vessels,” she added, “are filled with wine, oil, grain, dried
flesh, corn, and other sorts of food; also, nearer to the entrance, as
I will show you, are more jars of water which from time to time is
renewed, so that here a man, or indeed several men, might live for
months and yet not starve.”
“The gods defend me from such a fate!” he said, dismayed.
“Aye, Khian, yet who knows? That jackal is safest which has a hole to
run to when its hunters are afoot.”
“Sooner would I be killed in the open than go mad here in the darkness
with the dead for fellowship,” he answered doubtfully.
“Nay, Khian, you must not be killed; now you must live on--for me and
Egypt.”
She set down the lamp in its place and moved to the foot of the tomb.
He did likewise, so that there they met and stood a little while,
gazing at each other in the midst of a silence that was so deep that
they could hear the beating of their hearts. Speech had left them, as
though they had no more words to say, yet their eyes spoke in a
language of their own. They bent towards each other like wind-swayed
palms, nearer and nearer yet, till of a sudden she lay in his arms and
her lips were pressed upon his own.
“Beloved,” he said presently, “swear that while I live you will wed no
man but me.”
She lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at him with her large
and beautiful eyes that were aswim with tears.
“Is it needful?” she asked in a new voice, a deep, rich voice. “You
have little faith, Khian, and I ask no such oath from you.”
“Because it would be foolish, Nefra, for who, having loved you, could
turn to others? Yet there are many who will seek the fairest lady on
the earth and Egypt’s Queen. Indeed, has not one sought her already?
Therefore, I pray you, swear.”
“So be it. I swear by the Spirit that we worship, both of us; I swear
by Egypt which, if Roy be right, we shall rule in the days to come;
and I swear by the bones of my forefather who sleeps within this tomb
that I will wed none but you, Khian. While you live I will be faithful
to you, and if you die then swiftly I will follow you, that what we
have lost on earth, we may find in the Underworld. If I break this, my
oath, then may I become as is he who sleeps beneath my hand to-day,”
and she touched the tomb with her fingers. “Aye, may my name be
blotted from the roll of Egypt’s royal ones and may Set take my spirit
as his slave. Is it enough, O faithless Khian?”
“Enough and more than enough. Oh! how shall I thank you who have given
life to my heart? How shall I serve you whom I adore?”
She shook her head, making no answer, but he, loosing her from his
arms, sank to his knees before her. He abased himself as a slave; he
lifted the hem of her robe and kissed it, saying:
“Queen of my heart and rightful Queen of Egypt, I, Khian, worship you
and do you homage. Whatever I have or may have, I set beneath your
feet, acknowledging your Majesty. Henceforth I, your lover who hope to
be your husband, am the humblest of your subjects.”
She bent down and raised him.
“Nay,” she said, smiling, when once more he stood upon his feet, “you
are greater than I and it is the woman who serves the man, not the man
the woman. Well, we will serve each other and thus be equal. But,
Khian, what of Apepi who is your father?”
“I do not know,” he answered. “Yet, father or not, I pray that he may
not try to come between us.”
“I pray so also, Khian. To-night is happy, never was there so happy a
night; but to-morrow--oh! what of to-morrow?”
“It is in the Hands of God, Nefra, therefore let us fear nothing.”
“Aye, Khian, but often the paths of God are steep and rough, or so my
father and my mother found. Like us they loved each other well, yet
this Apepi was their doom. Come, we must go, for alas! all sweet
things have their end.”
So once more they clung and kissed, and then hand in hand went down
the darksome ways of that House of Death to the moonlit world without.
When they had climbed the steep ascent and were come to the mouth of
the passage, Nefra stopped and by the light of the last lamp, for she
had extinguished the others as they went, taught Khian how, by
pressing a certain stone which swung upon a pivot, the place could be
closed at will and, if need were, made fast from within by the aid of
a bar and pins of granite, which the builders of the pyramid had used
to shut out the curious while they went about their work upon the
secret burial chambers at its heart. Also she showed him a great
hanging door of granite that those who brought the Pharaoh to his
burial a thousand years before had forgotten or neglected to let fall
as they departed, leaving him to his eternal rest.
“See,” she said, “if that wedge of stone were knocked away the great
door would fall. Therefore touch it not, lest we should be shut into
this Pyramid of Ur and lay our bones with those of the mighty Khafra,
its architect. Look, yonder in that niche, where perhaps once stood
the priest or soldier who was guardian of the door, are the jars of
water of which I spoke, and by them oil and lamps and wicks of reed
and fuel and means of raising fire, with other needful things.”
Having shown him all and made sure that he understood, Nefra quenched
the last lamp and set it in the niche. Then they crept out on to the
side of the pyramid where thrice she made Khian close and open the
swinging stone, until he had mastered the trick of it, after which,
with a wedge of marble that fitted in a socket hollowed to receive it
and yet could be withdrawn in a moment, she made the stone fast, so
that now none could tell it from those around unless they had the
secret and knew in which course of the casing blocks it lay. This
done, they descended to the ground just by a fallen block that marked
where the seeker for the swinging stone must mount. Crossing the
paving that surrounds the pyramid, they reached the temple of the
Worship of Khafra to the east and kept in its shadow lest they should
be seen by some night wanderer. Here, too, they parted with sweet
murmured words of farewell, Nefra taking one path homewards and Khian
another.
Slowly he made his way through the vast, moonlit wilderness of tombs,
his heart filled with a great joy, for had he not won all that he
desired? Yet with this joy was mingled fear of what the morrow might
bring forth. Then would be handed to him, the ambassador, the written
answer of Nefra to the demand of Apepi, his father, that she should
give herself to him in marriage. Now he knew well what that answer
would be, but what he did not know was how Apepi would receive him
when, as duty demanded, he delivered it to him. There was but one
hope--that he might prove content that his son should wed this queen
without a throne instead of himself, seeing that the reason of such a
marriage was political and nothing else, and he, Khian, was his
father’s heir. Had Apepi seen Nefra, almost certainly things would
befall otherwise, for he knew his father’s nature and that he would
desire to possess himself of beauty such as hers. Happily, however, he
had not seen her and therefore might be content to let her go, who was
naught to him if he could secure her heritage for the House of the
Shepherd kings.
Yet Khian doubted whether events would thus shape themselves. It well
might be that when he learned, as learn he would certainly through his
spies or otherwise, that his son was betrothed to the high lady whom
he had sought for himself, that he would hold that this son, who was
also his ambassador, had played the traitor to him, which in a sense
was true. If so, he might be very wrath and terrible in his rage, who
was cruel-hearted. Moreover, he might desire vengeance. What
vengeance? Perhaps the death of the traitor, no less, and if still she
would not marry him, the death of Nefra also. For was she not Egypt’s
lawful Queen and, while she lived, could he sit safe upon his stolen
throne?
As he picked his way among the tombs by the moonlight Khian knew in
his heart that he and Death were face to face. Dark imaginations
possessed him. Almost could he see that grisly shape stalking ahead of
him while, wrapped in the long, hooded cloak that he used as a
disguise, his shadow, cast by the moonlight on the sand, to his sight
took the very shape of Osiris in his mummy wrappings--yes, of Osiris
the god of death. Yet if so, was not Osiris also the god of
resurrection and the king of life eternal? If indeed doom awaited him
and Nefra, at least beyond the grave lay joy and peace for thousands
of thousands of years.
So Roy taught and so he believed. Still, coming fresh from the lips of
his love, those warm and human lips with her sweet words echoing in
his ears, he shivered at these sad and solemn thoughts. For who could
be sure of what lay over the edge of the world? Oh! who could be quite
sure?
Khian came to the private door of the Temple of the Sphinx. As he
approached it, from beneath its arch appeared the gigantic shape of Ru
who looked at him with curious eyes.
“Have you been seeking the Spirit of the Pyramids, Lord, that you
wander abroad so late?”
“Who else?” asked Khian.
“And did you find her, Lord, and look upon her face that men say is so
beautiful?”
“Yes, Ru, I found her and looked upon her face. Nor does rumour lie as
to her beauty.”
“And are you already mad, Lord, as they say those become on whom that
Spirit smiles?”
“Yes, Ru, I am mad--mad with love.”
“And being mad, Lord, are you prepared to pay the price of her embrace
and to follow her into the Underworld?”
“If need be, I am prepared, Ru.”
The giant stood pondering, his eyes fixed upon the sand. At length he
lifted his head, saying:
“Lord, I am but a fool of a fighting man, yet to us of the Ethiopian
blood foresight comes at times. I tell you because I like you well
that I see it written upon this sand that for your own sake and that
of another, you would be wise this very night to fly fast and far
across the sea to Syria or to Cyprus, or up Nile to the south, and
there lie hid awaiting better days.”
“I thank you, Ru. But tell me, at the end of that writing on the sand,
do you see the symbol of Osiris?”
“No, Lord, not that for you or for another. Yet I do see the signs of
blood and many sorrows near at hand.”
“Blood dries and sorrows pass, Ru,” and leaving the Ethiopian still
staring at the ground, Khian entered the temple and sought his
chamber.