The Beginning of the End
How little a man sees of what is before him. A week hence I would have
scorned the thought that, once free, I should enter willingly again the
City of heathen gods; that monster city that stretched before me,
pitiless and dark, and full of mystery. Full, too, of the thirst of
blood and of nameless deeds.
Surely the measure of its iniquity had overflowed. Within its walls
there was little room for a man of peace like myself, but in these days
I was not the master of my acts that I had once been; an inward fire
consumed me. I will not make out my case one whit better than it was.
Looking back in the calm of these latter days, I see Astolba was not all
wrong.
It was not duty simply that drove me back; the duty of man to woman. It
was, too, a strange half-bitter gladness that rose within me, as by
Hubla’s side I went back, to face death, if need be, with her whose
peril called me,—Lah, the Queen.
When the red witch had clutched my knees beseeching, she had seemed too
feeble for further effort. Now, however, as once before had chanced, as
we sought the road to the Palace, I had much ado to keep up with the
swiftness of her halting gait.
For all my efforts she was ever in front, and as we had naught to say to
each other, it was not long before we reached one of the secret
entrances to the place, within which the uncanny figure of Hubla
vanished, flitting like a bat through the darkness.
On the threshold I paused for an instant. One wing of the Palace was
already aflame; the great square in front was packed with a howling mob.
It had not yet surrounded the royal residence, but I knew it would soon
do so; for if the magic of the Queen’s eloquence had, as I surmised,
held it thus far in check, the spell now had lost its power.
Already the maddened people swarmed up the front of the massive
building. The bodyguard within was faithful, and hurled back the rebels
as they came. But the struggle I knew was but too unequal.
Fascinated by the spectacle, I still lingered. I saw one and another of
the enemy bearing off rich spoil: jewelled garments, costly furnishings,
goblets, skins, tapestries.
In the midst of the foe stood Agno, urging on the plunderers by word and
gesture. His place was directly beneath the great statue of the god,
Hed, and even as I looked a blue flame shot from above, and the stone
image reeled.
The High Priest with a cry of terror flung himself back, but too late.
The stone crashed downward. In a moment’s space all was over. Agno, the
arch-traitor, had received from his master a just reward.
With a lighter heart I stepped within the Palace. Now that our chief
enemy was dead hope rose again within my breast. It would go hard indeed
if having received from Heaven this signal favor, I did not save the
Queen.
Hubla had disappeared, but I had threaded the labyrinth before me too
often to need a guide. The thick walls of the place deadened the sound
of the storm without. Only the echo of my running feet jarred on the
silence.
The lust of the battle was upon me. First, I would give a lesson to
these knaves, and that before the face of Lah; then, if need be, we
would fly together. So would I pay my debt.
The clash of arms and the cries of the wounded told me all too surely
which way to turn. Breathless, I rushed into the Queen’s own chamber.
This place the last desperate handful of her followers had made their
stronghold.
In their midst, clothed right royally, as for a festal day, stood Lah,
their mistress and my own. When she saw me, the fire in her eyes gave
place to a look of such glad wonder that I was humbled at the sight, and
would have knelt before her, save that the hour and place were for more
active service.
The great tawny beast, the tiger that she fondled, stood guard on one
side; Zobo the Mighty, with drawn sword, had taken his stand on the
other.
The same look of hostile jealousy leaped into the eyes of both man and
brute, as I advanced; but Lah saw it, and with a word made peace between
us. She was so lovely, so wondrously lovely, in that hour! All Queen and
yet all woman.
And not ten paces off, and drawing ever nearer, came the ravening mob.
Agno’s death had not turned them from their purpose, as I had hoped.
It was the beginning of the end; but I swore within me that it was life
with Lah, or death for me. It is thus fate laughs at the oaths of men.
In this hour I am whole and strong, while she—
But I must not let the bitterness of memory stay my hand. I have, I know
it well, but little art in picturing out the past, and even now I could
not if I would dwell on what followed next. The wound, for all these
intervening years, is still too fresh.
She stood there thus, my Queen, the love light in her eyes, in the full
radiance of her beauty.
With my oath freshly sworn, I stepped forward to take my part in her
defence. That second a spear, flung from a distance, clove the air and
buried its point in Lah’s fair breast. It needed no surgeon’s skill to
know the hurt was mortal. With a roar like that of an angry beast Zobo
sprang forward to avenge the murder.
The Queen swayed heavily forward, and I caught her in my arms. She
clasped her small hands round the spear’s shaft and tried with a man’s
courage to pull out the cruel steel, but I saw the useless agony it gave
her, and gently begged her cease. The tears rolled down my face, and I
cared not who should see them.
Lah’s beautiful head lay on my shoulder. She rested there as a tired
child rests in its mother’s arms. The great brute, the tiger she had
loved, now lapped the hand that fell in piteous helplessness by her
side.
The roar of battle came nearer, but I heeded it not. For me the worst
was over.
With a mighty effort the Queen raised her head. She spoke no word to me,
but what need was there of words between us in that hour? But faintly,
in a strange tongue, she called to Zobo, and in the midst of all the din
and turmoil round about, he heard that cry. I saw his face convulsed
with agony, but again Lah spoke, with a sweet beseeching eagerness, and,
falling on his knees before her, the warrior kissed her garment’s hem
and bent his head in token of obedience. Then he turned to me.
I looked once more into the depths of the Queen’s beautiful eyes. Then
their lids drooped. The tiger uttered a long, terrible cry.
Zobo picked me up like a child in his giant arms and bore me from the
chamber. I saw the great tawny brute standing over the body of his
mistress. With burning shame and anger, I struggled to be free, but the
Captain of the Guard held me close.
[Illustration]
A forked tongue of flame licked the curtained tapestry that screened the
room from which he carried me. The threads of gold shone bright amongst
those of baser metal. The hanging fell into place behind us. At a word
from my captor four brawny slaves that waited took hold on me and bore
me onward. Zobo tore down the burning tapestry and smothered the flame
in his hands. He knelt beside the motionless body of the Queen. As he
did so, the last of the gallant guard reeled back pierced by a hundred
hungry knives. Then a turn in the winding corridor hid the room from
sight.
Spurred by the fear of capture and of death, but bound by I know not
what strange spell of obedience, my captors hurried onward, but ever
with their burden.
So ingloriously was I borne without the Palace, and when at last they
let me go, I saw a sheet of flame rise from its massive roof. The great
palace with its fearsome Burial Hall, its beautiful Throne Room, and its
wondrous Treasure Chamber, was even now a ruin—a fitting funeral pyre
for her whose fair body lay within.
So once more I turned. And because in that hour, death would have been a
sweet and not a bitter draught, Heaven withheld the cup from my
thirsting lips. No man molested me, and at last I stood utterly alone
once again and for the last time at the secret door that led through the
wall of the City to the jungle without. Then that door, too, slipped
into place behind me.
The dawn was breaking, the great storm was over, and I was free.
All this was, as I have said, many many years ago. I am an old man now,
and having done my self-allotted task, I can die in peace at the
appointed hour.
I have never mated. I have seen fair women, but none like her whose
ashes lie within the dark circle of the City of Edba and of Hed. I have
heard sweet voices, but none like hers.
Astolba, a matron now, passed me by on the arm of my one time gay
comrade, Gaston Lestrade. He bore himself not so lightheartedly, I
thought. Neither glanced at me as they passed on, but Astolba’s face
turned from rose to white. But I do not blame them. I know too much
which they would have forgotten.
So I sit beside the fire alone, save for my dreams and for the ruby that
hangs upon my breast. When I hold the gem, I bear within the hollow of
my hand untold wealth. This I know full well, but the riches of the
universe would not tempt me to sell the parting gift of Lah, the Queen.
Is this love? Again I say I know not. Only this: in life the jewel rests
upon my heart, and at my death he will be a bold man and not wise, who
shall dare to wrest it from me.
THE END
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TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES
1. Silently corrected obvious typographical errors and variations in
spelling.
2. Retained archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings as printed.
3. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.