The Four Brothers
Very carefully the Sheik of the Pyramids undid the swinging stone
and crept out, followed by Khian and Temu, wrapped, all three of them,
in their dark cloaks. They closed the stone again and waited,
watching. Save one man, a sentry who sat by the embers of a fire, all
the soldiers, frightened by what they had seen upon the crest of the
pyramid, were gone into the huts that they had built. While this man
remained there they dared not descend, fearing lest he should see or
hear them and give warning to the others. So there they crouched,
among the stones on the slope of the pyramid, drawing in the sweet air
in great gasps and gazing at the stars with dark-widened eyes, while
Khian wondered what they should do.
“Bide here,” said the Sheik, “I will return.”
He crept away into the darkness and presently from somewhere above
them there arose a sound of hideous howling, such as a ghost or a
demon might make, that in the darkness of that solemn place might well
curdle a listener’s blood. The sentry heard it echoing among the tombs
behind him. He rose, hesitated, then of a sudden fled away affrighted
and vanished into the huts.
The Sheik reappeared.
“Follow me,” he whispered. “Be swift and silent.”
They descended the pyramid, Temu, who was no climber, half-blinded,
moreover, by many days of dwelling in the gloom, awkwardly enough, and
reached the ground in safety. The Sheik turned to the right and ran
along its base where the shadows were thick. Now they were clear and
darting across an open space towards some tombs. As they reached the
tombs a shout told them that they had been seen, by whom they did not
know. Following the Sheik, who turned this way and that, they ran on.
They came to a hollow in the drifted sand behind a little ruined
pyramid, where stood four Arabs holding six horses. Khian felt himself
seized and thrown rather than helped on to one of the horses. Glancing
round he saw Temu upon another horse, also the Arabs leaping to their
saddles. The horses began to move forward, as it seemed to him at some
word of command; the Sheik was running at his side.
“What of you?” asked Khian.
“I bide here, as is my duty; fear not, I have hiding places. Say to
the Lady Nefra that I have fulfilled her command. Ride fast, for you
have been seen; these men know the road. They are our brethren and may
be trusted. Prince, farewell!” he said, or rather gasped, and loosing
the horse’s mane, vanished into the shadows.
They came to open desert and rode on at great speed. All that night
they rode, scarcely drawing rein, and at the dawn halted among some
palm trees, a place where there was a well of water and hidden away
beneath stones, food and forage for the horses. Very glad was Khian to
dismount, since, after weeks spent in that tunnel, he was in poor case
for hard riding, while that of Temu, at the best no horseman, was
worse. They ate a little food, dates for the most part, and drank much
water.
“Surely, Brother,” said Temu, as he emptied his fourth cup, “we should
thank Heaven and our guardian spirits for these mercies. How beautiful
is the rising sun; how sweet the fresh air after the heavy heat and
blackness of that accursed grave hole. Oh! I pray that I may never
again look upon even the outside of a pyramid, and much less upon its
tomb chambers. Now we have done with them, thanks to my prayers, and
all will be well.”
Thus spoke Temu, cheerful as ever, though already he was so sore and
stiff that it hurt him even to sit upon the ground. Khian thought to
himself that they had more to thank than Brother Temu’s prayers;
namely, the wit and courage of the Sheik of the Pyramids, also those,
whoever they might be, that had sent these Arab horsemen to their
succour, if they were Arabs, which as yet he did not know. But he only
answered:
“I trust that you are right, Brother, and that all will be well. Yet
remember that we were seen as we left the pyramid and that if we
escape a second time heads will pay the price of it. Therefore surely
we shall be followed, even to the end of the world.”
“Faith, Brother! Have faith!” exclaimed Temu as he shifted his seat to
find one that was softer.
Just then Khian saw him who seemed to be the leader of the four Arabs,
a tall and noble-looking man, standing at a little distance as though
he desired speech with him, and alone.
He rose to go to him, and as he came the Arab bowed humbly in
salutation and made a certain sign which Khian knew.
“I see that you are of the Brotherhood. Tell me your name and those of
your companions; also who sent you in so fortunate an hour to help us,
and whither we go.”
“Lord, we are four brethren. I, the eldest, am named _Fire_. He who
stands there is named _Earth_, the next to him is named _Air_, and the
fourth and last is named _Water_. We have no other names, or if there
are any we forgot them when we were sworn Brethren of the Dawn, and
especially when we were despatched upon a certain duty.”
Now Khian understood that for their own reasons, or because of some
command laid upon them, these men desired to remain unknown, as was
common among the Brethren when they were sent upon any secret service.
“Is it so, Fire?” he said, smiling. “But what answer to my other
questions?”
“Lord, we were commanded to take six good horses and, disguised as you
see us, to go to the Great Pyramids and there bargain with soldiers,
if we found any, over such wares as Arabs have to sell. Also we must
make ourselves known to the Sheik of the Pyramids, if we could, and
give aid to a scribe, Rasa--perchance you are he, Lord--and to his
companion, a priest whose name was not mentioned, but whom we have
heard you call Temu, if he be the same.”
“And then, Fire?”
“Then, Lord, we were to say to the Scribe Rasa that a certain Lady--we
know not and, lest we should be captured and questioned, do not seek
to know, what lady--with all her following, has passed safely out of
Egypt and that the Scribe Rasa and his companion must follow by the
road she took. Lastly, we were sworn to bring both of you safely to
Babylon, or die at the task, which, Lord, we purpose to do. Now, Lord,
we must ride again. These horses are of the most swift and purest
desert blood but we have far to go before we can find others, and
certainly we shall be pursued. Moreover,” he added, eying Temu
doubtfully, “I think that yonder priest is more wont to travel on two
feet than on four, and until he learns the trick of horsemanship, we
must go with care lest he should fall or faint. Lastly, both of you
are weak who have, I think, lain for many days in an evil prison.”
“True words, Fire,” said Khian as he sought his horse.
All that day they rode forward, resting while the sun was high and
sleeping at night among some rocks where once more they found food and
water for man and beast, and all the next, and the next, travelling at
no great speed, till at length Temu, who was brave and active, began
to lose his soreness and to win something of that trick of
horsemanship of which he who was called Fire had spoken. Also in the
strong and wine-like desert air their tomb-bred weakness and languor
passed away from both of them, and they grew strong again, as young
men do.
One night they slept upon a mound by water where once had stood some
village, both men and horses being well hidden by a grove of thorn and
other trees that flourished in the rich soil of the mound. As the sun
sank behind them, he who was called Fire came to Khian and bade him
look through the trees towards the east. He did so and to their right
saw that at a distance of perhaps a league, a broad canal or natural
sheet of water that may have been the head of a lake was crossed by a
ford, beyond which stood an old and crumbling fort built of sun-dried
bricks, while in front of them there was no ford and the water seemed
to be wide and deep. Beyond this water was a great flat plain that
stretched away and away, till very far off upon the horizon it seemed
to end in a line of stony hills.
“Listen now, Lord,” said Fire. “That water is the boundary of Egypt.
That plain is Arabia, and among those hills is the first desert
outpost of the army of the King of Babylon, to reach which will be to
win to safety. But I tell you, Lord, that we are in great danger. I am
certain that yonder old fort is held by horsemen of King Apepi, for I
have seen their tracks in the sand, a number of them, fifty men
perhaps, and that they watch for us, believing that if we would leave
Egypt, we must do so by this ford.”
“Why?” asked Khian. “Can we not find another?”
“There is no other, Lord, since below, this water grows into a gulf
and above it is deep for many miles, so that to pass round it we must
ride through a peopled country guarded by the border garrisons.”
“Then it would seem that we are trapped or must fly back into Egypt.”
“Where we should be trapped indeed, Lord, for by now the whole land is
searching for us.”
“What then, Fire? Know that I would sooner look upon the face of Death
than upon that of Apepi.”
“I have guessed as much. Listen, Lord. All is not lost. These fleet
horses of ours were bred in Arabia, yonder among the mountains, and
they scent their home and the troops of mares that wander there. The
water in front of us will be unwatched because it is so wide and deep
and the current runs so swiftly. Yet I think that the horses will not
fear to face it, and once across, with good fortune we may ride far
before we are seen and perhaps even reach the pass of the hills in
safety. It is a narrow pass, Lord, where one man can hold back a
number for a long while, so that some of us, at least, should win
through to the heart of the hills and find shelter among the scouts of
Babylon,” he added slowly and with meaning.
Then speaking very rapidly, he explained to Khian all the details of
the plan which he and his brethren had prepared. He told him, and
Temu, who had joined them, how they must move down to the water edge
before the dawn and at the first light ride the horses into it, and as
soon as it grew deep, slip from the saddles and swim with them,
clinging to their manes.
Here Temu explained that he could not swim, whereon Fire answered that
he must hang to his horse as best he might, or drown. He went on to
say that those of them who lived to reach the farther shore must mount
at once and ride for a certain bay in the hills where the pass began,
which bay would become visible to them before noon. The pass they must
climb, on foot if the horses had failed them, and descend its farther
side to the entrenched camp of the Babylonian company who had orders
to succour all fugitives from Egypt.
Having set out these and other matters, he bade them drink and sleep
while they could, for none knew what might be their resting place on
the morrow.
Khian obeyed, knowing that he must harbour his strength. The last
thing he saw ere his eyes closed was the four strange brethren
grooming the horses and with set faces talking to each other in
whispers as they worked, also, nearer to him, Temu on his knees, lost
in earnest prayer. For with all his faith Temu remembered that this
water was said to be broad and deep, and that--he could not swim.
It seemed that but a few minutes had gone by when one of the brethren
woke Khian, saying that it was time to be stirring. They rose by the
starlight, set the bridles and the saddles on the horses which had
been fed already, mounted them, and followed the brethren down towards
the water. They reached it in safety just at the first glimmer of
dawn, by the light of which Khian saw that it was indeed wide--scarce
could the strongest bowman have shot an arrow from one bank to the
other. Also some tide or current seemed to run very strongly through
it towards the ford below, which was to this water as is the neck of a
wine-skin to the bottle.
“Would it not be safer to risk the ford?” he asked of Fire doubtfully.
“Nay, Lord, for there we should certainly be seen and perhaps killed
upon the bank, whereas here, where no man crosses, they may not note
us from so far away. Follow me now before the light strengthens.”
Then, having patted his horse and whispered into its ear in the Arab
fashion, he rode into the flood. After him came Khian, followed by
another of the brethren and by Temu. Last of all rode the remaining
two brethren, those who were known as Air and Water.
The horses went in bravely enough, and soon Khian saw that Fire’s was
swimming while its rider had slipped from its back and floated
alongside, holding fast to the mane or saddle. Presently Khian’s horse
also lost foothold and as Fire had done, so did Khian. The swim was
long and rough, for the swiftly running water, chilled by the night
air, drove them downstream and sometimes broke over their heads. Yet
those trained horses held on bravely, smelling the pastures where they
were born beyond the desert, and being, as Fire had said that they
would be, eager to reach them.
At last they touched the farther shore and Khian, still clinging to
the horse, was dragged through the rushes to firm ground. As he came
there he heard a shout of “Help!” and looking round, saw Temu’s horse
struggling up the bank, but unaccompanied by Temu, who indeed, having
let go, was floundering in the deep water and being swept down by the
current at a distance from the shore. All this the strengthening light
showed to them, whereon without a word two of the brethren plunged
into the stream and swam to Temu whose shouts grew ever louder. They
reached him and with difficulty between them dragged him to the shore,
much frightened, but unharmed and still calling to gods and men to
save him.
Then one of those strange, fierce brethren drew a knife, saying:
“Will you be silent? Or shall I make you so, who are bringing us all
to death?”
“Your pardon,” said Temu when he understood, “but my mother always
taught me that he who drowns in silence, drowns the most quickly; also
I ask you to note that my prayers have saved me.”
Muttering words that Temu would have thought evil, Fire helped to
thrust him on to his horse and signed to the others to mount theirs.
“Hearken, Lord Rasa,” he said, as they pushed their way through the
thorn bushes that grew on the bank of the water, “ill-fortune is our
companion. The shouts of that mad priest will almost certainly have
been heard. Would that he had choked before his throat shaped them.
Moreover, he has delayed us, so that the morning wind blows away the
mist which I hoped would shroud us for a while. Now there is but one
thing to be done--ride straight for the gap in the hills and through
the pass. Our horses are better than any the Shepherds have, though
theirs will be more fresh, and we, or some of us, may outpace them. At
the least, remember this, Lord Rasa, if so in truth you are named, we
four brethren will do all that men can to save you, and we pray you,
if we meet no more, so to report to a certain Lady whom we serve, and
to the Prophet and Council of the Dawn, that our memory may be
honoured among men.”
Then without waiting for an answer he spoke to his horse which leapt
forward, followed by that of Khian and the others, and sped away.
When they had ridden thus for some minutes and the sun was up, Fire
turned and pointed back towards the ford. Khian turned also and saw
the bright light glancing on the spears of a great company of mounted
men, some of whom were splashing through the ford, whilst others, not
more than the half of a league away, were galloping towards them.
They were pursued, and the race for life began.
On they rode for hour after hour towards those hills that scarcely
seemed to grow more near. Very strong were their horses and well
accustomed to these sandy plains over which they swept at a long and
steady gallop. Yet the way was far, also for days already they had
been ridden across the desert, and that morning they had swum a wide
stretch of rapid water, whereas those of the Shepherd troops were
fresh from the stable. Still throughout the burning heat of the day
those horses held their own, and when it drew towards evening and at
length that pass in the mountains was at hand, still they held their
own. Yes, parched with thirst, panting, thin-bellied, still they held
their own. Long ago most of the Shepherds had fallen out and vanished,
so that when at length the pass was reached, not a score of them
remained, men who had remounted upon led horses when those they rode
were foundered. But now these were hard upon their prey; scarce a
bowshot behind indeed.
Khian and his company stumbled up the pass, for the horses, both of
the pursued and the pursuers, had ceased to gallop and at the best
could but amble forward. Yet step by step the pursuers gained upon the
pursued. The sides of that pass were very steep and the pathway was
very narrow; one horse filled it all and therefore they must ride one
following the other.
Suddenly at a turn in the road, when the first of the Shepherds was
scarcely more than fifty paces away, that Arab or Babylonian, or
Brother of the Dawn, whichever he might be, who was pleased to give
himself the name of Fire, turned and shouted an order. Thereon the
last of those four brethren, he who was called Water, dismounted and
with drawn sword took his stand at the turn of the narrow path, while
his weary horse followed its fellows, as by certain words and signs he
bade it do. Presently those of the party of Khian heard the sound of
clashing arms behind them, followed by silence. Then a while later the
pursuers appeared again, only whereas there had seemed to be fourteen
of them now but eleven could be counted.
Once more they gained, once more they drew near, whereon he who was
named Fire shouted a second order, and that brother of his called Air
dismounted in another narrow place, leaving a second horse without a
rider to follow in the train. Again there was a sound of clashing
arms, and, when the pursuers reappeared, there were but nine of them.
As before, they gained, and as before, at a narrow place the word of
command rang out and the third of the brethren, he who was called
Earth, dismounted, waiting. Followed the clash of arms and the
shoutings, and when the pursuers reappeared there were but six of
them. They gained, they came very near, whereon at a chosen place the
first of the brethren, he who was named Fire, halted and leapt from
his horse, which he drove forward as the others had done.
“Ride on, Lord,” he cried. “Should the god we worship give me strength
and skill, for you there is yet a hope of safety. Ride on and forget
not the message I gave you by the water.”
“Nay,” answered Khian wearily, for his head swam and scarce he knew
what passed about him. “Nay, here I stay to die with you. Let Temu,
who understands nothing, deliver your message.”
“Begone, Lord!” cried Fire. “Would you put me to shame and cause me to
fail in my trust, making my name a hissing and a reproach? Begone or I
fall upon my sword before your eyes.”
Then as Khian still stayed swaying in the saddle, that most gallant
man called some secret word to the horse he rode and the beast,
understanding, stumbled onwards at a trot, nor could Khian stay it.
Once more there came the clash of arms and the sound of shoutings, and
presently Khian, looking back, saw that of the pursuers but three
remained. He urged his horse but it could do no more. Almost at the
crest of the pass it whinnied and stood still.
The three struggled on grimly, for they were afoot, having left their
spent beasts behind them. They were strong, soldierlike men, black
with dust and sweat, and one of them had been wounded for blood ran
down his face and robe, he who seemed to be an officer.
“We are commanded to take you dead or living, Prince Khian, for so you
are. Shall we slay you or will you yield?” asked this man hoarsely.
Now when he heard these words Khian’s spirit came back to him, and
with it some of his lost strength.
“Neither,” he answered in a low voice.
Then, changing his sword from the right hand to the left, from his
belt he snatched his short javelin and hurled it with all his
strength. The officer saw it coming and shrank aside, but in that
narrow place it caught the man who stood behind him, piercing him
through from breast to back, so that he fell down and died. Then the
officer sprang at him and they fought with swords, a well-matched
pair, though both were very weary, while the third man who could not
come at Khian strove to drag the javelin from the breast of him who
had fallen. The officer smote, somewhat wildly, perhaps the blood from
his wound had run into his eyes. Khian parried, then bending himself,
thrust forward and upward with all his strength, a trick of
swordsmanship that he had learned in the Syrian wars. The bronze blade
caught the officer in the throat just beneath the chin, and piercing
to the neck bone, severed it, so that down he went like a stunned ox,
in his fall twisting the sword from Khian’s sweating hand. Then it was
that the third man, having recovered the javelin, cast it at him,
though with no good aim, for it struck him, not in the body, but above
the left knee, piercing the leg from front to back.
Khian reeled against the rocky side of the pass, supporting himself
there, helpless and unarmed. He who had cast the spear, seeing his
state, rushed at him. Perhaps he hoped to take him living, or perhaps
he, too, had lost his weapons. At least he seized him with his hands
whereon Khian fell backward to the ground with the man above him. Now
those hands had him by the throat and were choking the life out of
him.
“All is finished,” thought Khian.
It was then, just as his senses were leaving him, that he heard the
sound of running feet and of a voice crying:
“Faith! Have faith!”
Next there followed the thud of a heavy blow and the grip upon his
throat loosened. He lay still, regaining his breath, then sat up and
looked about him. There at his side lay the soldier, dead, his head
broken like a crushed egg, while over him stood the tall Temu, holding
in both hands a great smooth stone.
“None of them will move any more,” said Temu in the voice of one who
marvels. “Who would have thought that I should live to kill a man in
such a fashion, I, a Brother of the Dawn sworn to shed no blood? My
brain swam; cooked in the sun; my mind was almost gone; that accursed
horse--oh! may I never see another horse--jolted on with me, when I
heard a noise, looked over my shoulder, and saw. I could not stop the
horse, so I slid over its tail and ran back towards you. I had no
weapon--I think I lost the sword in the river; at least, when I looked
for it there was nothing but the scabbard. Still I ran, praying, and
as I prayed, my eye fell upon that stone. I think that the holy Roy
must have sent it there from Heaven. I picked it up and brought it
down upon the head of that man of blood, as I used to bring down a
flail on corn, and my arms being still strong--well, you see, Brother,
the stroke was great and well aimed.”
“Very well aimed, most excellent Temu,” answered Khian faintly. “Now,
if you can, pull this bronze out of my leg, for it pains me.”
Temu pulled with goodwill and Khian fainted.
When he came to his mind again, it was to see himself surrounded by
tall square-bearded warriors clad in the Babylonian uniform, one of
whom supported his head upon his knee and poured water down his throat
from a gourd.
“Have no fear, Lord,” said the soldier. “We are friends who were
warned that fugitives might reach us from Egypt and hearing sounds of
war ran towards them, though little we thought to find you thus. Now
we will bear you to our camp beyond the pass, there to recover of your
wound.”
Then Khian fainted again, for he had lost much blood. Yet they carried
him to the camp where he was doomed to lie for many a day, for his
hurt festered so that he could not be moved and it was thought that he
must lose his leg. Moreover, this camp was beleagured by desert men in
the pay of Apepi so that escape from it was impossible.