The Fate of the Cliff-Climbers
That night, Khian, Temu, and the Sheik of the Pyramids, after they
had eaten and drunk, laid themselves down to sleep in the burial
chamber of the Pharaoh Khafra, Khian lying on one side of his
sarcophagus, Temu on the other, and the Sheik, who said that he would
not profane the sacred place with his humble presence, just outside
the doorway. But as Khian discovered that night, often enough it is
one thing to lie down and another to sleep.
Sleep, indeed, he could not. Perchance he was overweary, who had
rested little for many nights, for on the boat he had laboured hard
and scarcely dared to shut his eyes. Perchance all the dangers that he
had passed, all that he had suffered, seen, and heard, so filled his
mind that it would not cease from troubling. Perchance the hot, still
air of the tomb lying at the heart of a mountain of stone oppressed
him and took away his breath.
Or there may have been other reasons. Within the great chest against
which he lay, silent and stern, reposed the bones of a Pharaoh, the
builder of this pyramid, who had been mighty in the world uncounted
years before, but of whom now there remained no history and nothing
upon earth, save those bones, the pyramid, and, in the temple without,
certain statues portraying his royal presence. Such a one as this was
no good bedfellow, thought Khian, especially for a man who, as
suddenly he remembered, wore to-day the very ring with which, ages
past, that departed monarch had sealed his documents of state.
Khian wondered in his wakefulness whether the _Ka_ or Double of this
Pharaoh, which, as was well known, or so swore all the priests and
learned men, dwelt with his body in the tomb till the hour of
resurrection, was now looking at that ring and wondering how it came
to be on this stranger’s hand. As he remembered, already it had
brought him trouble, since through it his father, Apepi, with all the
cunning of the jealous, had guessed that he and Nefra were lovers, and
thereon cast him into prison. He had escaped from that prison to find
another, but if this was to be shared with the _Ka_ of the mighty
Khafra, the second would be no better than the first, for who could
deceive a _Ka_? Had he thought of the matter, which in his folly he
did not, he might have hidden the ring from Apepi, but where was the
pouch that would hide it from the eyes of a _Ka_? Perhaps, however,
Khafra had given the ring to him who came after him, from whom it had
descended generation by generation, until it came to his hand lawfully
enough, in which case the _Ka_ might pardon him who wore it to-day.
Oh! his brain grew weak and foolish; he would think no more of _Kas_
and rings; he would think of that sweet and lovely lady with whom he
had plighted troth in this very sepulchre. Where was she now, he
wondered, and when should he find her again? The Sheik said that
almost with his last breath Roy had prophesied that they would come
together once more, which were comfortable words. Yet Roy might have
meant that this would chance in another world since to Roy, especially
at the last, there seemed to be little difference between the live and
the dead. But he, Khian, desired the breathing woman, not her ghost,
for who knew how shadows loved, if indeed they loved at all? How
wondrous was the tale of this death of Roy, hurling curses with his
last strength upon Apepi and those who violated the sanctuary of the
Brethren of the Dawn and strove to steal away their sister and their
Queen. He thanked the gods that Roy had not cursed him in such
fashion. Nay, he had blessed him, and Nefra also. Therefore, surely,
they would be blessed, for he was holy, a minister of Heaven who knew
its mind.
Even in that dread habitation and surrounded by so many perils, he
would remember that Roy had blessed them, and that his spirit,
purified eternally, was watching him, stronger than the _Ka_ of Khafra
or than any evil ghost or demon that makes its home in tombs. Yes,
comforted by that blessing he would cease to stare at the wavering
shadow that the lamplight threw upon the arched roof, and sleep.
Sleep he did at last, though fitfully and haunted by bad dreams, for
that place was foul-aired, till at length he was awakened by the sound
of Temu, who stirred upon the farther side of the tomb and yawned
loudly.
“Arise, Prince,” said Temu, “for though one would not guess it here,
it must be day.”
“What is day to those who live in the eternal blackness of a pyramid
as though already they were dead?” asked Khian gloomily.
“Oh! a great deal,” replied Temu cheerfully, “because one knows that
the sun is shining without. Also darkness has its comforts; thus in
it, having nothing else to do, one can pray longer and with a mind
more fixed.”
“But that the sun is shining on others does not comfort me in a
stifling gloom, Temu, and I can pray best when I see the heaven above
me.”
“As doubtless you will soon again, Prince, for be sure that by now,
having lost us, those soldiers have departed to report to his Majesty
that we have melted away like spirits.”
“In which case his Majesty will make _them_ into spirits, Temu, that
they may search for us elsewhere. Certainly, wherever those soldiers
go, it will not be back to Tanis unless they take us with them. Think
now. We have escaped from Pharaoh’s strongest dungeon which none has
ever done before. The Queen Nefra and all our brethren, save Roy who
chose to stay behind to die, have escaped his army. What would his
mood be, then, towards those who reported to him that they had tracked
and hunted us, only at the last to let us slip through their fingers?
No, Temu, unless we accompany them, I think that they will not return
to Tanis.”
At this moment the Sheik appeared bearing a lamp.
“Have the soldiers gone?” asked Temu.
“Come and see,” said the Sheik, and turning, led them down the
passages. “Now look,” he added, pointing to the eyeholes.
Khian looked, and when his sight grew accustomed to the bright light
that flowed from without, perceived the soldiers, fifty or more of
them, engaged in building themselves huts or shelters of the loose
stones that lay about. Moreover, by setting his ear to the hole, he
heard an officer call to someone whom he could not see, asking if all
were well with the companies that watched the other faces of the
pyramid. Then understanding that these men were sure that their quarry
lay hid within the pyramid and intended to guard it day and night
until starvation or lack of water forced them to come out, Khian
motioned to Temu to look for himself and sat down upon the passage
floor and groaned.
“Certainly,” said Temu after a while, “it seems as though they were
going to stop here a long time, for otherwise they would not be
building themselves houses of stone. Well, we will outwit them
somehow. Faith--have faith!”
“Yes,” said Khian, “but meanwhile even faith needs food, so let us
eat.”
Thus for these three there began a time of terror. Day added itself to
day and still the soldiers remained, watching as a cat watches; also
others came to join them, and among these, men who were skilled at the
climbing of cliffs and other heights, and set themselves to scale the
pyramid with the aid of ropes and spikes of bronze, hoping thus to
discover the hiding place of the Prince. It was but lost labour, since
although often they crept over it, never did they find the secret
stone, nor if they had, could they have opened it that was barred
within. Still there they remained, believing always that the prisoners
must come out, unless indeed they were already dead.
Khian and his companions slept no more in the tomb chambers; the place
was too close and dreadful; they could not rest there. So after that
first night they laid themselves down in the passage near to the
entrance stone, for there some air reached them through the peepholes,
also a little light. Indeed, by setting his eye to one of these holes
that slanted upwards, apparently to make it possible for any looking
through it from within to see the southern face of another of the
pyramids, Khian found that he could behold a certain star. For hours
at night he would lie watching that star, until at length it passed
from his vision, as the sight of it seemed to give him comfort, though
why he did not know. For the rest they must lie in the dark, or with
the peepholes blocked, lest the lamplight flowing through these should
betray them, and therefore were obliged to eat farther down the
passage. Soon, however, although there was plenty of it, food began to
grow distasteful to them, who must stay still, or nearly so, day after
day. The water, too, became flat, stale, and nauseous to the taste,
and of the wine they dared not drink too much.
Thus it came about that at length courage and spirit began to desert
Khian, who would sit for hour after hour silent, sunk in a gloom as
deep as that of the bowels of the pyramid. Even Temu, though still he
talked much of faith, reminding his companions of Roy and his
prophecy, and prayed for hours at a time, became less happy-hearted
and declared that the prison vaults at Tanis were as a palace compared
to this accursed tomb. The Sheik, also, grew so wild in his manner
that Khian thought that he was going mad. What angered him most was
that strangers should dare to scramble about the pyramid of which he
was the captain, for of this he talked continually. Khian tried to
soothe him by saying that he was sure they dared not climb so very
high, even with the help of their ropes, since never would they know
where to set their feet.
These words made the Sheik thoughtful, for after hearing them he grew
silent, as though he were considering deeply. On the following night,
just before the dawn, he awoke Khian and said:
“Prince, I go on an errand. Ask me not what it is, but to-morrow at
sunset unbar the stone and wait. If I do not return before the dawn,
bar it up again and think of me as dead.”
He would say no more, nor did Khian try to turn him from his purpose,
for he knew that then the man would go quite mad. So the stone was
opened a little, and having eaten and drunk some wine, the Sheik
slipped out into the darkness.
The sound of the bar falling into its place again woke Temu, who
sprang up, crying:
“I dreamed that the stone was open and that we were free. Why, where
is the Sheik? He was lying by my side.”
“The stone was opened, Temu, but we are not free. As for the Sheik, he
has gone on some wild errand of his own. What it was he would not tell
me. I think that he could bear this place no more and seeks freedom in
death, or otherwise.”
“If so, Prince, there will be more water left for us two to drink, and
doubtless all is for the best. Faith! Have faith!” answered Temu, and
lying down went to sleep again.
That day passed as the others had done. Of the Sheik they spoke no
more, for both of them believed that he had fled, or hidden himself
among the stones of the pyramids to get air. Indeed now their miseries
were so great that scarcely could they think of other matters and
talked little, but, like two caged owls, sat staring at the darkness
with large, unnatural eyes. Towards evening Khian, watching through
his peephole, saw that some Bedouins of the desert, who were mounted
upon fine horses, had arrived at the camp of the soldiers who were
chaffering with them for corn or perhaps milk, which others on foot
carried upon their heads in jars or baskets. When the bargaining was
done the soldiers talked with the desert-dwellers, telling them why
they were camped there, or so Khian guessed, for the latter stared at
the pyramids as though the tale moved them, and asked many questions,
as he could see by their eager faces and the movements of their hands.
Whilst they were still talking the sun began to set, sinking swiftly,
as it seems to do in the clear skies of Egypt. Then suddenly one
shouted, pointing upwards:
“Look! Look! Yonder stands the Spirit of the Pyramids, there on its
very crest, clad all in white.”
“Nay,” answered another, “it is clad in black.”
“There must be two of them,” called a third, “one in white and one in
black. Without doubt these are no spirits, but those we seek, the
Prince Khian and the priest, who all this while have dwelt not in the
pyramid but on its crest.”
“Fool,” cried a voice, “how can men live for weeks in such a place?
These are ghosts, I say. Have we not heard that the pyramids are
haunted. Look! The thing mocks us, making signs with its arms.”
“Ghosts or men,” said the first voice, that of the Captain, “we will
take them to-morrow. To-night it is impossible, for darkness falls.”
Then followed tumult, for all the soldiers spoke at once, and at that
distance Khian could not hear their words. He noted, however, that the
desert-dwellers did not speak. They sat still upon their horses at a
little distance and behind the soldiers, while he who seemed to be
their chief made strange signs with his arms, stretching them out
wide, then holding them above his head with his fingers touching.
After this, very swiftly came the darkness, covering all, and the
shoutings died away, though from the encampment below where the
soldiers gathered round their fires, still rose the murmuring of eager
talk.
“Temu,” said Khian later, “what does this sign mean among the
Brotherhood of the Dawn?” and first he stretched his arms out wide and
then made them into a loop above his head with the fingers touching.
“That, Prince, is the sign of the Cross of Life which members of the
Order use for a signal when they are too far apart to speak. It is
thus that they know friend from foe or stranger.”
“I thought so,” said Khian, and was silent. Then he went to the
entrance place and took down the bar that closed it.
An hour later or more he heard a sound and for an instant felt the
night air blowing sweetly on his face, though because of the darkness
he could see nothing. Next he heard the bar fall into its socket and
the voice of the Sheik calling him by name. He answered and together
they crept up the passage till they came to a spot where a lamp burned
and there were food and water.
When the Sheik had drunk deeply Khian asked him where he had been,
though he could guess well enough.
“To the top of the pyramid, Lord. I climbed thither in the dark this
morning. It was very dangerous; so dangerous that although you are as
skilled as I am, I dared not ask you to accompany me. Still, although
I am weak from sitting so long stirless in this hole, I did not fear
who know the road well; also no harm ever comes to the Captain of the
Pyramids while he follows his trade of scaling them.”
“Why did you go there, Sheik?”
“I will tell you, Lord. First, that I might make those soldier dogs
believe that we were living, not in the pyramid, but on or near its
crest in some cave among the stones; or if they would not believe
this, that I might frighten them, and perhaps cause them to go away.
Doubtless they have heard the tale of the Spirit of the Pyramids and
that those who look upon it are doomed to death or madness, and if so,
having, as they believed, seen it once they will not wish to do so
again. Lastly, I had a reason of my own of which perhaps you will not
think well. Skilled cliff-climbers have been brought here to scale the
pyramid, _my_ pyramid and that of my forefathers, on which none has
set foot unless he was of my blood, except only a certain lady and
yourself by order of the Council of the Dawn. Yet these bunglers have
never yet reached the crest; of that I am sure. Now they will try to
do so, for the soldiers will force them to the task, and I think that
what will happen to them will cause strangers for many a generation to
leave the pyramids to be climbed by my race alone.”
“That is revenge which would have been displeasing to Roy,” answered
Khian, shaking his head. Then remembering that to this man the
pyramids were as holy as is a temple to its priest, and that to him he
who dared to try to conquer them deserved to die as much as he does
who violates a sanctuary, he said no more of the matter, but bade the
Sheik to continue his tale.
“Lord, I reached the summit in safety just as the dawn began to break,
and there lay flat all day in the little hollow that you know, where
part of the cap stone is broken off. It was very hot there, Lord, with
the sun beating full upon me, nor did I dare to move lest I should be
seen. Yet I endured till at last came the hour of sunset. Then I rose
up and stood upon the very point clad in my white robe, so that all
the soldiers could see me. While they gazed astonished I slipped back
to the hollow and covered up the white robe with my black cloak of
camel hair, and thus clad, appeared again, bending my knees so as to
make it seem as though I were a second man of a different stature.
This I did more than once, Lord, and thus those watchers came to
believe that unless they saw ghosts, both you and the priest Temu were
on the summit of the pyramid.”
“A clever trick,” said Khian, laughing for the first time for days,
“though I know not how it will serve us.”
“Thus, Lord. If the soldiers believe that you are on the summit of the
pyramid, they will cease to search and watch its slopes, and all night
long the eyes of their sentries will be fixed upon that summit. But
listen, there is more to tell. Whilst I stood thus on high I perceived
certain men mounted on very fine horses who seemed to be Arabs of the
desert and who were, or had been, engaged in chaffering with the
soldiers, selling them milk or grain. Now the presence of these men
caused me to wonder, for I knew well that no Arabs dared to set foot
within the boundaries of this, the Holy Ground of Dawn, fearing lest,
if they do so, the curse of Heaven and of the Prophets of the Dawn
should fall upon them. Then a thought came to me, sent as I think from
on high, and seeing him who seemed to be the headman of the Arabs
watching me with uplifted face, with my arms I made certain signs that
are known to our Order, and perhaps, Lord, to you also who now are one
of them.”
Khian nodded, and he went on:
“Lord, that man answered the signs and so did another who was near to
him, to show me as I think that this was not done by chance. Then I
knew that they were friends sent here for a purpose and understood why
my Spirit had moved me to climb the pyramid.”
“And if so, what of it, Sheik?” asked Khian in a hoarse voice, for his
heart beat high with hope and choked him.
“This, Lord. To-morrow at the sunset once more I shall stand upon the
crest of the pyramid, and if as I think those Arabs still are there, I
shall make other signs to them, showing them where they must wait at
midnight, having horses in readiness. Then I shall return and guide
you to them, for I think that they will know which way to ride.”
“It is dangerous,” said Khian, “but so be it, for if I bide here much
longer I think that I shall die. Therefore, better meet fate in the
open and swiftly than perish here in this hole by inches.”
Then he called Temu and the three of them took counsel together. Also
the Sheik and Temu talked much of the secret signs of their Order, and
practised them by the lamplight.
Next morning ere dawn the Sheik departed again as he had done before.
As soon as it was light, watching through their spyholes, Khian and
Temu saw that there was much disturbance in the camp of the soldiers,
saw also that the skilled cliff-climbers, six or more of them with
their ropes and metal spikes, were collected together, talking with
the officers.
At last, as it seemed to Khian somewhat against their will, they
advanced to the foot of the pyramid, and setting his ear to the hole
Khian heard them scrambling up the face of it. For a long while he
heard no more, but noted the soldiers watching eagerly, talking
together and pointing with their hands, now in this direction and now
in that.
Suddenly there rose a scream of horror. Some of the soldiers stared as
though fascinated, others turned their backs, and others hid their
eyes. The spyhole was obscured for a moment as though by something
passing between it and the light. Then soldiers ran forward and
presently Khian and Temu saw them returning towards the huts bearing
three shapeless things that had been men. A while later they saw the
remainder of the cliff-climbers staggering much as the drunken do,
towards the same huts where they cast down their ropes with the air of
those who had done with them, and departed out of the sight of the
watcher.
“The pyramids are avenged on those who thought that they could master
them, and their captain will rejoice,” said Khian sadly, thinking to
himself that had not some power protected him they would have been
avenged upon him also, as indeed very nearly happened.
Once more it was sunset and again the Arabs, mounted on fine horses,
appeared at the camp. Again, too, there were shoutings and pointings
with much disturbance, in the midst of which he who seemed to be the
chief of the Arabs drew a little to one side of, also behind, the
soldiers, so as not to be seen of them, and from time to time made
motions with his arms, as those do who, at its rising or its setting,
worship the sun in the desert. Then followed darkness and in it shone
the fires round which the soldiers were seated.
Presently they stood up holding their hands behind their ears as
though to listen to some sound in the air; then by twos and threes
departed like men who are frightened and hid themselves in the huts or
elsewhere. A while later the stone turned and the Sheik glided into
the passage, but this time he asked for wine, not for water.
“I have been near to Osiris,” he said, “who slipped upon the blood of
one of those cliff-climbing fools and almost fell. Yet I did not fall
who I think was guarded, and for the rest all goes well.”
“Except for the three who are dead,” said Khian, sighing.
“If they died, it was by no fault of mine, Lord. Without knowledge of
the road, in their madness, having scaled two-thirds of the height
they came to smooth marble where is no holding place for hands or
feet. Then one slid down, dragging the others with him, for they were
roped together, after which the rest, seeing the fate of their
fellows, gave up the venture and returned. Now, as I think, the
pyramids will be safe from these common cliff-climbers for many a
year.”
“What chanced afterwards?” asked Khian.
“I appeared at sunset as before, and making pretence to toss my arms
about, as a ghost or a devil might do, I signalled to him who seems to
be the captain of the Arabs. He answered me. We understood each other.
After dark I shouted curses at the soldiers telling them that I was
the Spirit of Roy the Prophet, and that doom was near to them. They
grew frightened at what they held to be a voice from Heaven, and crept
away to hide themselves from the words of evil omen, nor, as I think,
will they come out of their holes again until the sun is high. Now
drink a cup of wine and follow me, both of you.”