The High Priest’s Council
Heavy still with the fumes of the Queen’s sleeping-potion that the black
had brought me, I sat with my head in my hands after Lah’s departure,
thinking yet but lamely, on all that had just now passed, while Lestrade
slumbered in peace in the corner of our prison.
It might have been an hour or mayhap two, when my friend stirred,
stretched himself, and at last sat up, his usual happy-go-lucky air
giving way to a look of surprise when he saw our new abiding-place.
“How feel you, Gaston?” I asked anxiously, for I still distrusted the
Queen’s medicine, and the enduring nature of this sudden cure.
“Never better,” Lestrade answered brightly; “but what means this sudden
change of quarters? As for thyself, man, no popinjay of the tropics ever
pricked it more blithely, no strolling mountebank bright with gold and
scarlet and jingling bells, no, nor Solomon himself, of a verity, so
much as touched the height of thy magnificence. Why, comrade! thy
raiment shineth like the sun, and thou in the midst of grandeur, solemn
as any owl.”
And with that he fell a-laughing mightily, so that I was nettled, and
without more ado related briefly, and perchance too sharply, all that
had chanced since the slave’s coming, save, as was fitting, the last
passage between Lah and myself.
And at my story Lestrade grew grave once more, but not as one would
fancy because of the danger he had but now passed, but all, if one would
believe it, because of the figure he had cut in the Queen’s presence.
And I was hard put to it, to answer with discretion his many questions,
without wounding him to the quick on the one hand, or ministering to his
vanity and vain hope of Lah’s favor, on the other.
Indeed, I was sore beset, when the door of our cell swung open, and
Astolba came in, whereat Lestrade forgot apparently altogether and on
the instant, his interest in the Queen’s bearing, and turned, with all
singleness of mind, to the entertainment of his fair visitor.
She, poor child, was in great spirits, and it was a pretty sight to
watch the swift color come and go in her cheek, and note the many
innocent little coquetries with which she met Gaston’s warm advances.
Not that he took toll of every look and word; there were plenty still
for me, of another, and, I could not help thinking, of a deeper nature.
However that may be, the reason for her light-heartedness was soon made
known to us.
The Queen, she told us, was on our side, and she would bring to naught
the cruelty of the priests of Hed. Lah had spoken softly to her, almost
as one sister to another, of us whose lives were forfeit to the gods;
had promised us powerful protection, and bade Astolba bear to us, with
all speed, the message.
Yesterday, it seemed, a missive had reached the throne, which read that
Agno plotted, in the name of his unholy office, to tear us from the
sanctuary of the very palace itself, and bear us to the altar of torture
and of death.
Hearing this, Lah had hidden her wrath, but had given orders to two
mutes that we be drugged with a harmless potion, and borne by a secret
way back to the Temple of Edba, whence we had come.
“You are now,” said Astolba, “in a hidden chamber that is next the
Council Room itself. The Queen bids me tell you that at midnight the
priests will meet there, and your fate will be the subject of their
speech.” She drew back the tapestry that masked the wall, and put her
finger on the head of a painted snake that was revealed, for the stone
was covered with pictured emblems of Hed’s most revolting worship.
Once, twice, and once again, she pressed the chosen spot, and
noiselessly a huge block of stone slipped back and disclosed a leathern
curtain.
Astolba motioned us to silence, and drew forth the jewelled knife that
hung from my much bedizened girdle. With it she slit the drapery of hide
that screened the opening she had made.
Then she pushed back the heavy folds, but with all caution, and stooping
at a sign from her, we gazed through the rent and saw indeed the High
Priest’s Council Room.
Lestrade, when I had done, scanned the place also with curious eyes.
Then we fell back, and Astolba, again pressing, this time a painted
emblem of the moon, the huge stone slipped noiselessly into its
appointed socket.
“Now,” said Astolba, “I have delivered to you the Queen’s message, save
for this scroll, which I have been also bidden to hand to you.” And she
placed, I fancied a shade reluctantly, in my hand an ivory tablet.
And in the language of the people of the Walled City, I read:—
“The wiles of the Serpent shall be brought to naught. Behold, even at
the twelfth hour the crystal globe shall fall, and into thy hand be
delivered the secret of thine enemy. But the wisdom and the power of
the lioness no man may measure. Wherefore beware! Yet walk in the
light openly, despising not the good gifts of the gods, and all shall,
in the day to come, be well.”
The Queen’s signet, the same as that cut upon the middle stone of her
girdle, a hand grasping a writhing snake, was engraved on this missive,
which I again read carefully, and at Lestrade’s impatient asking, this
time aloud.
“A precious epistle,” said Gaston, with an expressive shrug; for he was
nettled, I make no doubt, that the Queen’s majesty had addressed itself
to me rather than to him.
“What is this crystal ball of which the letter speaks?” I asked, to
change, if might be, the current of my friend’s thought.
“Look up,” Astolba answered, “and you will behold this people’s strange
clock. It works, I think, by water. Every hour a ball of lead curiously
and differently marked, will drop from the plate above, into the brazen
bowl which you see below. At midnight a crystal ball will show you by
its fall that the hour to act has come. And now I must say farewell.”
She smiled upon us each in turn. “Good by for a little, dear friends,”
she said; “be brave, be fortunate,” and had gone.
After Astolba’s departure we waited with what patience we might for the
appointed hour. A mute, black as ebony, like his brother of the goblets,
brought us a supper that did no shame to the hospitality of his royal
mistress. Delicious fruits were served to us in massive silver dishes;
there was, beside, a steak, from what animal I know not, that was rarely
toothsome. There were flat cakes of grain and a jar of ruby-tinted wine
that would have made an anchorite forswear himself. So we dined
together, Lestrade and I, and little by little, a moodiness that before
had wrapped us round, now fell from us like a cloak; the potent grape
juice warmed us through, and we were gay.
After the banquet the slave departed, silent as he had come, and Gaston,
stretched upon the lion skin, sang snatches of fair French ditties,
while I, in a reverie strangely sweet, with Lah’s face floating in a
glory through the waking dream, watched, motionless and content, the
leaden balls fall clanging, on the hour, into the bowl of brass beneath.
At length the longed-for moment came, and with it the crystal ball.
Lestrade rose, yawned, and was about to speak, but I, with a warning
gesture, pressed thrice the serpent’s head painted on our prison wall.
Back, slow and noiseless as before, slipped the massive stone. With a
courteous gesture Gaston bade me look. I plucked at the rent in the
curtain of hide, and even as I gazed, with measured step, two by two,
the priests of Edba and of Hed entered from the farther end of the
Council Room.
Lestrade cut with my knife another slit in the folds of the heavy
drapery of skins, and together we watched in silence.
The chamber into which we looked was of great size, and seemingly
hollowed like our prison cell, from out the solid rock. Massive pillars
of stone supported the roof, and these were carved with hideous, leering
figures grotesquely entwined.
The walls of the place were covered with painted pictures, rudely drawn
but strangely and horribly lifelike. These represented victims suffering
all the tortures that a cruel and fertile mind could think of, and
through all the horrid story appeared at intervals the emblem of Hed,
the serpent, and the sign of Edba, the silver moon; and these were shown
forth also on curtains of hide that draped, as before our hiding-place,
certain portions of the apartment.
The room was bare, but there was a throne of ebony on a raised platform
at the further end, and in front of this stood a round stone altar with
a deep groove running through it, that slanted and ended in a large
basin or trough. Before this altar burned a fire in a three-cornered and
very large brazier, holding not coals, but fagots. From this there shot
forth forked tongues of blue flame, and from it also came the only light
that illuminated the Council Hall.
Back of the throne I beheld a gigantic figure of black marble, but
painted in glaring colors. The eyes of this image were of blazing jewels
worth a king’s ransom, and in the squat figure I recognized my old
enemy, Hed, the snake-encircled god. The firelight shone on the
serpent’s silver scales, and the reptile seemed to move. With an effort
I looked away and saw that beside the revolting figure of Hed, there
stood, on a pedestal, a tall, veiled, and graceful statue, all of white
and luminous stone, and holding in its hand a crescent jewelled moon.
This, then, was Edba.
I turned once more to the advancing priests, and as I did so, a wild
blood-curdling chant broke from the on-moving ranks. I looked at
Lestrade; his face was white, and I saw that he recognized the song that
we had heard once before, at midnight, in our other prison cell beneath
the temple. Slowly the priests drew near, forty in number, and ranged
themselves about the sides of the apartment, near unto the throne. One
brawny fellow took his stand almost in front of me, and so near that I
could easily have plucked him by the shoulder.
Twenty of these ministers to the gods were clothed in white garments,
and twenty wore robes blood red in hue, and I thought from the glances
cast one at the other, that there was little love lost between the two
parties. They stood there chanting their heathenish song, and at the end
fell flat on their faces on the stone pavement. As they did so, the
further door swung open, and Agno advanced through the prostrate ranks,
clad in a flowing gown of white and scarlet, and seated himself on the
throne. His piercing glance swept the Council Room, and had I not been
aware of the thickness of the shadow, the strength of my right arm, and
the justice of my cause, even I would have shrunk back before him into
the safety of my hiding-place.
The High Priest waited an instant, then struck the dais twice with his
staff of office, and these ministers of evil arose.
Then at their leader’s command, forth from the red-robed ranks came the
foremost of their number, who advanced, thrust his naked hand into the
very centre of the blazing pile and drew forth a flaming brand.
Then he turned to the waiting throng, and no sign of pain writhed upon
his lips, though he must indeed have been terribly burned.
“I, priest of Hed, do swear for myself and my brethren, by the Snake’s
head, by the Snake’s bride, by the power of blood, by the flame on the
altar, to keep secret the counsels of this holy meeting, and of our
office, and to obey him sitting upon the throne. May the body of him who
betrayeth the trust be tortured to the uttermost, and body and soul
forever hereafter! Let Hed himself bear witness.”
He paused, and every man, worshipper of the Serpent, bent his head in
silent affirmation.
Agno turned to the white-robed throng, and again the foremost stepped
from the ranks, caught out from the flames another brand, and spoke: “I,
priest of Edba, do swear for myself and my brethren, by the moon’s
light, by the yearly victim, by the earth’s fruits, by the flame on the
altar, to keep secret the counsels of this holy meeting, and of our
office, and to obey him sitting upon the throne. May the body of him who
betrays the trust be tortured to the uttermost, and body and soul
forever hereafter! Let Edba herself bear witness.” And again as with the
followers of Hed, his nineteen companions gave in solemn silence their
consent.
“Friends,” said Agno, “the time is ripe, the hour of vengeance is at
hand. Let the followers of Edba and of Hed forget their impious
quarrels, and unite in peace and strength against the stranger. Yes,
brethren, our altar has been defamed, the sacred ape murdered, the power
of the gods scorned, and even we threatened in the exercise of our holy
office. Aye, and worst of all, the sacrilegious wretches are sheltered
beneath the royal mantle of the Queen.”
A low murmur broke from the listening throng, and the wily Agno hastened
to say on.
“Nay, brethren, think not that I bear malice against the throne. Rather
as a father would I defend the person of our mistress from the sorceries
of the stranger. Surely are the eyes of Lah bewitched, since she
protects these outcasts, and as surely will their blood, and their blood
only, make true again her vision. Look to it, ye priests of the temple.
The gods are angry; Hed and Edba cry out, ‘Why are my servants slothful?
Why do they sit with folded hands appeasing not our outraged majesty?’
Shall they withdraw their favor from their ministers? Shall the light of
their countenance be turned from us? Shall we perish, that the strangers
live?”
Again a low, fierce murmur broke from the assembly. Agno’s eyes gleamed,
for he saw that his words now sank deep—seed in fruitful soil.
“Nay, more, mark you, followers of Edba, and you, too, worshippers of
Hed, already the people scorn us for our weakness.
“Already the gold runs scantily in our coffers; already have fallen away
the gifts to the temple. Not twelve hours since, a blemished goat was
offered at the altar; already the voice of the multitude is raised
against us. Aye, even as I approached this sacred meeting-place, a
drunken soldier of the Queen stumbled rudely against me, and when I
cursed him for his awkwardness, he laughed,—yes, my brethren,—laughed in
my very face. May the flames consume him! May the Serpent eat his
heart!”
Again an angry murmur confirmed his words, and the foremost of the band
of Edba spoke in answer.
“We, followers of the Moon, ask peace rather than bloodshed,” he began.
“Nevertheless, we join with thee, most holy Agno, in clamoring for the
punishment of the stranger. Only this much must be granted. Give to us
the victims. For long have the worshippers of Hed lorded it over the
adorers of Edba. Now grant to us the sole honor of bringing to the altar
these unbelieving dogs, and rest assured, their fate shall be such as to
content even the thirsty souls of our red-robed brethren.”
“Never!” shouted, as with one voice, the followers of the Serpent; and
an angry tumult arose on the instant, hardly stilled when Agno commanded
peace by all that was sacred, and with mingled threats and prayers
enforced his words.
The calm ranks of the forty priests were broken, and the worshippers of
Edba and of Hed mingled together. Eyes gleamed hatred, and hot words
broke from the lips of the humblest.
At length one voice bore down the rest, and the clamor was hushed for
the moment. It came from him of the scarlet garment, who had thrust his
hand into the burning pile.
“My brothers, my brothers, let there be no strife amongst us,” he cried
aloud. “Rather turn this burst of fury upon the strangers. Are there not
two victims? Let the priests of Edba give one unbeliever, bound hand and
foot, unto the mercies of the Mad Man of the Moon; we, of Hed, will take
care that the Serpent be avenged upon the other.”
A troubled silence succeeded this speech, and I saw that each side
feared to give advantage to the other by the renewal of the strife.
Clearly, if nothing happened to prevent it, a temporary peace, bad
indeed for our prospects, would prevail.
I looked at Lestrade, and I saw the same dare-devil thought spring into
his mind. I noted that the sacred fire burned low, unnoticed in the
tumult. The room was well-nigh wrapped in darkness. A scarlet robe and a
white were well within reach. Gaston and I, as one man, thrust forth our
arms through the rents made in the curtain by our knives.
I struck him of the red robe, right joyously, a well-planted buffet on
the cheek. He reeled with the shock, and I saw Gaston slyly prick, with
his dagger, the fat side of the priest before him.
In an instant all was confusion. A cry of treason was raised, and the
sons of Edba and of Hed flew like a pack of ill-bred curs straight at
each other’s throats.
Agno shouted in vain; and I promise you the sight was such a merry one,
that forgetting the risk we ran, I laughed aloud for very joy of it.
In the general scuffle over went the brazier, and the only light in the
Council Room came now from a few dying embers.
Gaston’s rash spirit rose within him, and before I could utter a word,
he had pushed aside the heavy folds of the leathern curtain, and leaped
through the opening in the wall of our prison, straight into the
thickest of the fray. I could not leave my comrade, though my cooler
spirit saw little glory and much danger in the adventure into which he
had plunged us, and through which I was bound to follow him.
Hoping much from the friendly darkness, however, I also sprang forth,
and it would seem unnoticed; and then the lust of battle that abides
still in the sinful heart of man arose in me, and in the good giving and
taking of blows I forgot all else. On a sudden, as I was struggling
right gladly with a fellow in a red cloak, who wrestled all too well to
have been a follower of false gods, just, I say, as I had tripped
him—for the heathen knew not the trick, and so went down like a bullock
under me, but still holding fast manfully; just then Agno—and may the
evil one repay him!—Agno threw a powder upon the dying flames, and at
once the Hall was brighter than day.
I gave mine enemy a parting blow and sprang for cover, and I saw
Lestrade throw back a sturdy fellow, and start to follow. But his foot
tripped over a fallen priest, and I, turning to his rescue, was seized
and held fast by a dozen eager hands.
We were prisoners again, and in much worse case, and as I stared about
me with late repentance that I had ever left my cell, the only
comfortable thought for me at all lay in the still fresh evidence of the
havoc we had wrought amongst the enemy in whose toils we once more found
ourselves.
If I live to a ripe old age, which seems likely though I be now at
seventy but little past my prime, I shall, I am sure, never forget the
look of rage and triumph upon those dark faces bent above us. We lay,
Lestrade and I, bound and helpless on the stone floor of that bloody
Council Room.
Agno would fain have played with us awhile, even as a cat with a mouse,
for the sheer love of the sport, but the High Priest’s hot-headed
followers would have none of it. They clamored for a swift judgment on
the culprits, and their wily leader saw their demands had best be
satisfied.
So from the throne before the grim and silent images of the gods we had
dared, came forth the solemn sentence of our doom.
Lestrade was given over to the worshippers of Hed. A week hence on the
high festival day he was to be tied to the horns of the altar, and there
done to death. My fate was swifter, but as terrible. Two nights hence
the moon would be at its full, and Edba would claim in me her chosen
victim.
“Let the stranger,” said Agno, “be bound to the stone that stands in the
centre of the cleared space within the holy grove. There has Izab, the
Mad Man of the Moon, his abiding-place, and there, unpitied, and alone
save for the avenger, shall this dog of an unbeliever meet his doom.”
“What is your meaning?” I began, for I have always held it the wiser
part to learn the worst at once; but in the hoarse roar of satisfied
revenge that rose from the priests about, my words were lost, and before
I could speak again a gag was thrust, none too tenderly, into my mouth.
I saw Lestrade wave his fettered hand to me, in parting, and the brave
smile on his white lips made my eyes strangely dim.
Four lusty sons of Edba raised me up, and I was borne from the Council
Room and carried through a multitude of passages.
At length my bearers stopped; a door opened, a massive door, but so low
that a short man must stoop to enter. The foul smell of a noisome
dungeon assailed my nostrils. I was thrust within, still fettered, and
so rudely that for a little my head swam with the force of the blow I
had received in falling, so that I could not note at once the quality of
my new prison.
This, alas! I found quite soon enough, matched but too well the state of
my changed fortunes. The hole was unfit for a beast, much less for the
chamber of a Christian gentleman. Nevertheless, I had been placed there,
and it was cold comfort to reflect that I was not long to trespass on
the hospitality of my entertainers.
However, it is ill crying over spilt milk, nor am I a man to waste good
time in such thankless observance. So I disposed myself upon the damp
floor of the dungeon, as well as the painful tightness of my bonds would
permit, and by dint of thrusting my swollen tongue this way and that, I
at last got rid, to my great joy, of the foul gag that had so
unceremoniously stopped my speech.
My mouth was sore and my throat parched. A rare thirst consumed me, and
it was with delight that I observed the slimy coating on the walls made
by the constant fall of water from above. I put my lips close to the
cold stone, and with much greater patience than I thought could abide in
my nature, I waited till little by little, drop by drop, my suffering
was assuaged.
It was dark in my prison house. Four small holes pierced the stone roof,
and from these came some air and, I hoped, by morning, light also.
I heard the scuffling of a legion of rats; from whence I know not,
unless the earthen pipe that thrust its nozzle through the floor gave
access to the cell. This, I think, was the case, for soon I felt the
pattering of their feet upon my body; the boldest even nibbled at the
belt of leather that I wore, and had I not shown signs of life, they
might have been yet more uncivil in their advances.
A hundred years passed by, and I was still a prisoner: let one who would
assure me that I am wrong, take but my place in that foul spot, and see
the bitter truth that lies within such reckoning as mine.
No visitor, grim or otherwise, approached my cell. I would, I believe,
have welcomed, in my extremity, Satan himself, but he came not, nor his
ministers. The Queen’s hand could not reach me here; Gaston, my faithful
comrade, he too was absent, perhaps in pain like me, perhaps in bonds,
forgotten and, like me, well-nigh mad.
My head was light from want of food and drink and sleep. I tossed about
from side to side in unavailing anguish, and it was not the agony of the
bonds eating into my flesh, that cowed me, but the darkness and the
solitude.
There in that place of torment my manliness fought against such odds as
even now I dread to think on. But praise to Him whose servant I am, at
last my braver self prevailed, and when, after those hours of
interminable horror, Agno appeared, I did not grovel at his feet, but
faced him calmly and, at least in outward seeming, unafraid.
A day had come and gone; the High Priest said my hour was at hand. By
his order my bonds were loosed, and the blood rushed painfully through
my numbed body, that pricked as with millions of needles.
“What of my friend?” I managed to ask.
Agno smiled with subtile malice.
“The stranger waits his doom in the company of fair woman, with revel
and sweet minstrelsy. Goodly wines and rich meats are his portion, and
soft garments wrap him round. Yet in six short days shall the Snake
receive his own.”
At least he knows not the torments of such a dungeon as this, I thought,
and my heart was a little lightened, which I think fell hardly within
the reckoning of the High Priest of Hed when he disclosed the fate of my
fellow captive.
But there was no time to ponder this or other matters. At a sign from
their leader the guard closed in upon me. I was led along through a maze
of underground passages as before, and at last into the open. Before we
reached the outer wall my eyes were blindfolded, my hands tied, and I
was muffled in the folds of a cloak.
In this fashion I was marched along, to my great inward misgiving; but
at length a halt was called and the bandage was taken from my eyes.