When Khaled was within half a day's march of Riad, the Sultan came out
to meet him with a great train of attendants and courtiers, with cooks
bringing food and sweetmeats, and a number of musicians. And they all
encamped together for a short time in the shade of the trees, for there
were gardens in the place. The Sultan embraced Khaled and put upon him a
very magnificent garment, after which they sat down together in a large
tent which the Sultan had brought with him. When they had eaten and
refreshed themselves they began to talk, and Khaled told his
father-in-law all that he had done, and gave him an account of the
spoils which he had brought back, commanding the most valuable objects
to be brought into the tent. After this the Sultan desired to see the
women captives.
'There is one especially whom it may please you to take for yourself,'
said Khaled, and he ordered Almasta to be brought in.
When the male slaves had left the tent, Almasta drew aside her veil. The
Sultan looked at her and smiled, stroking his beard, for he was much
pleased.
'Her face is like a pearl and her hair is a setting of red gold,' he
said. 'Truly she is like the sunrise on a fair morning when there are
red clouds in the east.'
Almasta looked attentively at him, and afterwards she glanced at Khaled,
who could not avoid looking at her on account of her beauty. Her face
was grave and indifferent. Then Khaled told the Sultan how she had hated
the Sultan of Shammar and had tried to kill him on the journey.
'This is a dangerous woman, my son,' said the old man. But he laughed as
he said it, for although he was old, he was no coward. 'She is
dangerous, indeed. Will you love me, pearl of my soul's treasures?' he
inquired of her, still smiling.
'You are my lord and my master,' she answered, looking down.
When Khaled heard this he wondered whether his father-in-law would get
any affection from her. Zehowah had answered in the same words.
'By Allah, I will give you such gifts as will make you love me,' said
the Sultan. 'What shall I give you?'
'His head,' answered Almasta, raising her eyes quickly.
'The head of the Sultan of Shammar?'
Almasta nodded, and Khaled could see that her lips trembled.
'A dead man has no companions,' said the Sultan, looking at Khaled to
see what he would do. But Khaled cared little, and said nothing.
So the Sultan called a slave and ordered the captive's head to be struck
off immediately. Then Almasta threw herself upon the carpet on the floor
of the tent and embraced his feet.
'See how easily the love of a woman is got,' Khaled thought, 'even by an
old man whose beard is grey and his limbs heavy.'
When Almasta rose again, she looked at Khaled triumphantly, as though to
remind him of the night on the journey when he had hindered her from
killing the captive in his cage. But though he understood her, he held
his peace, for he had cared nothing whether the prisoner lived or died
after he had delivered him over to his father-in-law, and he was
considering whether he might not please Zehowah in some similar manner.
This was not easy, however, for he was not aware that Zehowah had any
private enemy, whose head he might offer her.
After the Sultan had seen the other women and the best of the spoils,
Khaled begged that he might be allowed to ride on into Riad alone, for
he saw that the Sultan intended to spend the night in feasting where he
had encamped. The Sultan was so much pleased with Almasta and so
greatly diverted in examining the rich stuffs and the gold and silver
vessels and jewels, that he let Khaled go, almost without trying to
detain him, though he made him many speeches praising his conduct of the
war, and would have loaded him with gifts. But Khaled would take nothing
with him, saying that he would only receive his just share with the
rest; and the fame of his generosity immediately went abroad among the
soldiers and the Bedouins throughout all the camp.
'For,' said Khaled, 'there is not a fleeter mare than mine among all
those we have taken; my sword proves to be a good one, for I have tried
it well; as for women, I am satisfied with one wife; and besides a wife,
a sword and a horse, there are no treasures in the world which I covet.'
So Khaled rode away alone into Riad, for he desired no company, being
busy with his own thoughts. He reached the gates at nightfall and went
immediately to the palace and entered Zehowah's apartments. He found her
sitting among her women in her accustomed place, listening to the tales
of an old woman who sat in the midst of the circle. As soon as Zehowah
saw her husband she sprang up gladly to meet him, as a friend would have
done.
'Though it is summer-time, I have pursued the enemy,' said Khaled. 'And
though the sun was hot, I have got the victory and brought home the
spoil.'
He said this remembering how she had tried to hinder him from going.
Then he gave her his sword and he sat down with her, while the women
brought food and drink, for he was weary, and hungry and thirsty. The
women also brought their musical instruments and began to sing songs in
praise of Khaled's deeds; but after a time he sent them all away and
remained alone with Zehowah.
'O Zehowah,' he said, 'you are my law and my rule. You are my speech and
my occupation. You are my Kebla to which I turn in prayer. For the love
of you I have got the victory over many foes. And yet I see that your
cheek is cold and the light of your eyes is undisturbed. Have you no
other enemies for me to destroy, or have you no secret foe whose head
would be a pleasant gift?'
Zehowah laughed, as she fanned him with a palm leaf.
'Do you still thirst for war, Khaled?' she asked. 'Truly you have
swallowed up all our enemies as the dry sand swallows up water. Where
shall I find enemies enough for you to slay? You went out in pride and
you have returned in glory. Are you not yet satisfied? And as for any
secret foe, if I have any I do not know him. Rest, therefore; eat and
drink and spend your days in peace.'
'I care little for either food or drink,' Khaled answered, 'and I need
little rest.'
'Will nothing but war please you? Must you overcome Egypt and make Syria
pay tribute as far as Damascus before you will rest?'
'I will conquer the whole world for you, if you wish it,' said Khaled.
'What should I do with the world?' asked Zehowah. 'Have I not treasures
and garments enough and to spare, besides the spoil you have now brought
home? And besides, if you would conquer the world you must needs make
war upon true believers, amongst whom we do not count the people of
Shammar. Be satisfied therefore and rest in peace.'
'How shall I be satisfied until I have kindled the light in Zehowah's
eyes at my coming, and until I feel that her hand is cold and trembles
when I take it in mine?'
'Do I say to my eyes, "be dull"--or to my hand, "do not tremble"?'
Zehowah asked. 'Is this, which you ask of me, something I can command at
will, as I can a smile or a word? If it is, teach me and I will learn.
But if not, why do you expect of me what I cannot do? Can a camel gallop
like a horse, or a horse trot like a camel, or bear great burdens
through the desert? Have you come back from a great war only to talk of
this something which you call love, which is yours and not mine, which
you feel and I cannot feel, which you cannot explain nor describe, and
which, after all, is but a whim of the fancy, as one man loves sour
drink and another sweet?'
'Do you think that love is nothing but a whim of the fancy?' asked
Khaled bitterly.
'What else can it be? Would you love me if you were blind?'
'Yes.'
'And if you were deaf?'
'Yes.'
'And if you could not touch my face with your hands, nor kiss me with
your lips?'
'Yes.'
Zehowah laughed.
'Then love is indeed a fancy. For if you could not see me, nor touch me,
nor hear me, what would remain to you but an empty thought?'
'Have I seen you, or touched you, or heard your voice for these two
months and a half?' asked Khaled. 'Yet I have loved you as much during
all that time.'
'You mean that you have thought of me, as I have thought of you, by the
memory of what was not fancy, but reality. Would you dispute with me,
Khaled? You will find me subtle.'
'There is more wit in my arm than in my head,' Khaled answered, 'and it
is not easy for a man to persuade a woman.'
'It is very easy, provided that the man have reason on his side. But
where are the treasures you have brought back, the slaves and the rich
spoils? I would gladly see some of them, for the messengers you sent
told great tales of the riches of Hail.'
'To-morrow they will be brought into the city. Your father has remained
feasting in the gardens towards Dereyiyah, and the whole army with him.
I rode hither alone.'
'Why did you not remain too?'
'Because that whim of the fancy which I call love brought me back,'
Khaled answered.
'Then I am glad you love me,' said Zehowah. 'For I am glad you came
quickly.'
'Are you truly glad?'
'I was very tired of my women,' she answered. 'I am sorry you have
brought nothing with you. Are there any among the captives who are
beautiful?'
'There is one, a present sent lately to the Sultan of Shammar. She is
very beautiful, and unlike all the rest. Your father is much pleased
with her, and will perhaps marry her.'
'Of what kind is her beauty?' asked Zehowah.
'She is as white as milk, her eyes are twin sapphires, her mouth is a
rose, her hair is like gold reddened in fire.'
Zehowah was silent for a while, and twisted a string of musk-beads round
her fingers.
'The others are all Arabian women,' Khaled said at last.
'Why did you not keep the beautiful one for yourself?' asked Zehowah,
suddenly throwing aside her beads and looking at him curiously. 'Surely
you, who have borne the brunt of the war, might have chosen for yourself
what pleased you best.'
Khaled looked at her in great astonishment.
'Have I not married Zehowah? Would you have me take another wife?'
'Why not? Is it not lawful for a man to take four wives at one time? And
this woman might have loved you, as you desire to be loved.'
'Would it be nothing to you, if I took her?'
'Nothing. I am the King's daughter. I shall always be first in the
house. I say, she might love you. Then you would be satisfied.'
'Zehowah, Zehowah!' cried Khaled. 'Is love a piece of gold, that it
matters not whence it be, so long as a man has it in his own possession?
Or is it wood of the 'Ood tree that one may buy it and bring it home and
make the whole house fragrant with it? Is a man's heart like his belly,
which is alike satisfied with different kinds of food?'
'He who eats, knows by the taste whether he eats Persian mutton, or
barley bread, or only broiled locusts. But a man who believes that he is
loved, knows that he is loved, so far as knowing is possible, and must
be satisfied, if to be loved is what he desires.'
'That may be true. But he who desires bread is not satisfied with
locusts. It is your love which I would have. Not the love of another.'
'You are like a man who hopes to get by argument a sum of money from one
who has nothing,' said Zehowah, smiling at him. 'Can you make gold grow
in the purse of a beggar? Or can you cause a ghada bush to bear dates by
reasoning with it? Your heart is a palm tree, but mine is a ghada bush.'
'Yet an angel may touch the ghada and it will bear fruit,' answered
Khaled, for he remembered how the angel had turned dry leaves into rich
garments for him to wear.
'Doubtless, Allah can do all things. But where is the angel? Hear me,
Khaled, for I speak very reasonably, as a wife should speak to her
husband, who is her lord and master. My lord is not satisfied with me
and desires something of me which is not mine to give. Let him take
another wife beside me. I have given my lord a kingdom and great riches
and power. Let him take another wife now, who will give him this fancy
of his thoughts for which he yearns, though she have no other
possessions. In this way my lord will be satisfied.'
Khaled listened sadly to what Zehowah said, and he began to despair,
for he was not subtle in argument nor eloquent in speech. The reason of
this was plain. In the days when he had been one of the genii he had
wandered over the whole earth and had heard the eloquence of all nations
and the arguments of all philosophers, learning therefrom that deeds are
no part of words, and that they who would be believed must speak little
and do much. But the genii possess no insight into the hearts of women.
Khaled reflected also that the length of life granted him was uncertain,
and that he had already spent two months and a half at a distance from
Zehowah in accomplishing the conquest whereby he had hoped to win her
love. But since this had utterly failed, he cast about in his mind for
some new deed to do, which could be done without leaving her even for a
short time. But he was troubled by her indifference, and most of all by
her proposing that he should take another wife. As he thought of this,
he was filled with horror, and he understood that he loved Zehowah more
than he had supposed, since he could not bear to think of setting
another woman beside her.
Then his face became very dark and his eyes were like camp fires far off
in the desert, and he took Zehowah's wrist in his hand, holding it
tightly as though he would not let it go. As his heart grew hot in his
breast, words came to his lips unawares like the speech of a man in a
dream, and he heard his own voice as it were from a distance.
'I will not take another,' he said. 'What is the love of any other woman
to me? It is as dust in the throat of a man thirsting for water. Show me
a woman who loves me. Her face shall be but a cold mirror in which the
image of a fire is reflected without warmth, her soft words shall be to
me as the screaming of a parrot, her touch a thorn and her lips ashes.
What is it to me if all the women of the world love me? Kindle a fire
and burn them before me, for I care not. Let them perish all together,
for I shall not know that they are gone. I love you and not another.
Shall it profit a man to fill his mouth with dust, though it be the dust
of gold mingled with precious stones, when he desires water? Or shall he
be warmed in winter by the reflection of a fire in a mirror? By Allah! I
want neither the wealth of Hail, nor a wife with red hair. Let them take
gold who do not ask for love. I want but one thing, and Zehowah alone
can give it to me. Wallah! My heart burns. But I would give it to be
burned for ever in hell if I might get your love now. This I ask. This
only I desire. For this I will suffer and for this I am ready to die
before my time.'
Zehowah was silent, looking at him with wonder, and yet not altogether
pleased. She saw that she could not understand him, though she did as
well as she could.
'Has he not all that the heart of man can desire?' she thought. 'Am I
not young and beautiful, and possessed of many jewels and treasures?
Have I not given him wealth and power, and has he not with his own hand
got the victory over his enemies and mine? And yet he is not satisfied.
Surely, he is too hard to please.'
But he, reading her thoughts from her face, continued in his speech.
'What is all the happiness of the world without love?' he asked. 'It is
like a banquet in which many rich viands are served, but the guests
cannot eat them because there is no salt in any of them. And what is a
beautiful woman without love? She is like a garden in which there are
all kinds of rare flowers, and much grass, and deep shade, but in which
a man cannot live, because nothing grows there which he can eat when he
is hungry.'
'Truly,' said Zehowah, 'that is what you will make of your life. For
there is a garden called Irem, planted in a secret place of the deserts
about Aden, by Sheddad the son of Ad, who desired to outdo the gardens
of paradise, and was destroyed for his impiety with all his people, by
the hand of Allah. But a certain man named Abdullah ibn Kelabah was
searching in the desert for a lost camel, and came unawares upon this
place. There were fruits and water there and all that a man could wish
for, and Abdullah dwelt in peace and plenty, praising Allah. Then on a
certain day he desired to eat an onion, and finding none anywhere, he
went out, intending to obtain one, and having eaten it, to return
immediately. But though he searched the desert many months he was never
able to find the garden again. Wherefore it is said that Abdullah ibn
Kelabah lost the earthly paradise of Irem for a mouthful of onion.'
'How can you understand me if you do not love me?' asked Khaled. 'Love
has its own language, and when two love they understand each the other's
words. But when the one loves and the other loves not, they are
strangers, though they be man and wife; or they are like Persians and
Arabians not understanding either the other's speech, or that if the
wife cries "father," her husband will bring her a cup of water supposing
her to be thirsty. For those who would speak one language must be of one
heart, and they who would be of one heart must love each other.'
Then Zehowah sighed and leaned against the cushions by the wall and drew
her hand away from Khaled.
'What is it?' she asked in a low voice. 'What is it you would have?' But
though she had already asked the question many times she found no
answer, and none that he was able to give could enlighten her darkness.
'It is the spark that kindles the flame,' Khaled said, and he pointed
to the lights that hung in the room. 'Your beauty is like that of a
cunningly designed lamp, inlaid with gold and silver and covered with
rich ornament, which is seen by day. But there is no light within, and
it is cold, though it be full of oil and the wick be ready.'
Zehowah turned towards him somewhat impatiently.
'And you are as one who would kindle the flame with words, having no
torch,' she answered.
'Have I not done deeds also?' asked Khaled. 'Or have I spoken much, that
you should reproach me? Surely I have slain more of your enemies than I
have spoken words to you to-night.'
'But have I asked for an offering of blood, or a marriage dower of dead
bodies?'
Khaled was silent, for he was bitterly disappointed, and as his eyes
fell upon the sword which hung on the wall, he felt that he could almost
have taken it and made an end of Zehowah for very anger that she would
not love him. Had he not gone out for her into the raging heat of
summer, and borne the burden of a great war, and destroyed a nation and
taken a city? Moreover, if neither words nor deeds could gain her love,
what means remained to him to try?
All through the night Khaled pondered, calling up all that he had seen
in the world in former times, until he fell asleep at last, wearied in
heart.
Very early in the morning one of Zehowah's women came and stood by his
bed and waked him. He could see that her face was pale in the dawn, her
limbs trembled and her voice was uncertain.
'Arise, my lord!' she said. 'A messenger has come from the army with
evil news, and stands waiting in the court.'
Khaled sprang up, and Zehowah awoke also.
'What is this message?' he asked hastily.
But the woman threw herself upon the floor and covered her face, as
though begging forgiveness because she brought evil tidings.
'Speak!' said Zehowah. 'What is it?'
'Our lord the Sultan is dead!' cried the woman, and she broke out into
weeping and crying and would say nothing more.
But when Zehowah heard that her father was dead, she sat down upon the
floor and beat her breast and tore her hair, and wailed and wept, while
all the women of the harem came and gathered round her and joined in her
mourning, so that the whole palace was filled with the noise of their
lamentations.
Khaled went out into the court and questioned the messenger, who told
him that the Sultan had held a great feast in the evening in the gardens
of Dereyiyah, having with him the woman Almasta and the other captive
women, and being served by black slaves. But, suddenly, in the night,
when most of the soldiers were already asleep, there had been a great
cry, and the slaves and women had come running from the tent, crying
that the Sultan was dead. This was true, and the Jewish physician who
had gone out with his master declared that he had died from an access of
humours to the head, brought on by a surfeit of sweetmeats, there being
at the time an evil conjunction of Zoharah and Al Marech in square
aspect to the moon and in the house of death.
Khaled therefore mounted his bay mare and rode quickly out to Dereyiyah,
where he found that the news was true, and the women were already
preparing the Sultan's body for burial. Having ordered the mourning, and
commanded the army to prepare for the return to the city, Khaled set out
with the funeral procession; and when he reached the walls of Riad he
turned to the left and passed round to the north-east side of the city
where the burial-ground is situated. Here he laid the body of his
father-in-law in the tomb which the latter had prepared for himself
during his lifetime, and afterwards, dismissing the mourners, he went
back into the city to the palace.
After the days of mourning were accomplished, the will of the Sultan was
made known, though indeed the people were well acquainted with it
already. By his will Khaled succeeded to the sovereignty of the kingdom
of Nejed and to all the riches and treasures which the Sultan had
accumulated during his lifetime. But the people received the
announcement with acclamations and much joy, followed by a great
feasting, for which innumerable camels were slain. Khaled also called
all the chief officers and courtiers to a banquet and addressed them in
a few words, according to his manner.
'Men of Nejed,' he said, 'it has pleased Allah to remove to the
companionship of the faithful our master the Sultan, my revered
father-in-law, upon whom be peace, and to set me up among you as King in
his stead, being the husband of his only daughter, which you all know.
As for the past, you know me; but if I have wronged any man let him
declare it and I will make reparation. And if not, let none complain
hereafter. But as for the future I will be a just ruler so long as I
live, and will lead the men of Nejed to war, when there is war, and will
divide the spoil fairly; and in peace I will not oppress the people with
taxes nor change the just and good laws of the kingdom. And now the
feast is prepared. Sit down cheerfully, and may Allah give us both the
appetite to enjoy and the strength to digest all the good things which
shall be set before us.'
But Khaled himself ate sparingly, for his heart was heavy, and when they
had feasted and drunk treng juice and heard music, he retired to the
harem, where he found Zehowah sitting with Almasta, the Georgian woman,
there being no other women present in the room. He was surprised when he
saw Almasta, though he knew that the captive women had been lodged in
the palace, the distribution of the spoil from the war having been put
off by the mourning for the Sultan.
When Almasta heard him enter, she looked up quickly and a bright colour
rose in her face, as when the juice of a pomegranate is poured into
milk, and disappeared again as the false dawn before morning, leaving no
trace. Khaled sat down.
'Is not this the woman of whom you spoke?' Zehowah asked. 'I knew her
from the rest by her red hair.'
'This is the woman. Your father would have taken her for his wife. But
Allah has disposed otherwise.'
'She is beautiful. She is worthy to be a king's wife,' said Zehowah.
'The Sultan?' asked Almasta, for she hardly understood. Her face turned
as white as bone bleached by the sun, and her fingers trembled, while
her eyes were cast down.
Zehowah looked at Khaled and laughed.
'See how she trembles and turns pale before you,' she said. 'And a
little while ago her face was red. You have found a torch wherewith to
kindle this lamp, and a breath that can extinguish it.'
'I do not know,' Khaled answered. But he looked attentively at Almasta
and remained silent for some time. 'It is now necessary to divide the
spoils of the war,' he said at last, 'and to bestow such of these women
as you do not wish to keep upon the most deserving of the officers.'
'My lord will surely take the fairest for himself, since she loves him,'
said Zehowah, again laughing, but somewhat bitterly.
'May my tongue be cloven and my eyes be put out, may my hands wither at
the wrists and my feet fall from my ankles, if I ever take any wife but
you,' said Khaled. 'Yallah! So be it.'
When Zehowah heard him say this, even while Almasta's face was unveiled
before him, she understood that he was greatly in earnest.
'Let me keep her for my handmaid,' she said at last.
'Is she mine that you need ask me? But it will be wiser to give her to
Abdul Kerim, the sheikh of the horsemen. I have promised that the spoil
should be fairly divided, and though few have seen this woman many have
heard of her beauty. And besides, she would weary you, for she cannot
talk in Arabian, nor does she seem quick to learn. Abdul Kerim has the
first right, since Allah has removed your father, upon whom be peace.'
'Your words are my laws,' answered Zehowah obediently. 'And, indeed, it
may be that you are right, for I believe she can neither dance nor sing,
nor play upon any musical instrument. She would certainly weary me after
a time, as you say. Give her therefore to Abdul Kerim for his share.'
They then made Almasta understand that she was to be given to the sheikh
of the horsemen; but when she had understood she shook her head and
smiled, though at first she said nothing, so that Khaled and Zehowah
wondered whether she had comprehended what they had told her.
'Do you understand what we have told you?' asked Zehowah, who was
diverted by her ignorance of the Arabic language.
'I understand.'
'And are you not pleased that you are to be the wife of Abdul Kerim, who
is a rich man and still young?'
'I was to be the Sultan's wife,' said Almasta, with difficulty, looking
at Khaled. 'You told me so.'
'The Sultan is dead,' Khaled answered.
'Who is the Sultan now?' she asked.
'Khaled is the Sultan,' said Zehowah.
'You said that I should be the Sultan's wife,' Almasta repeated.
'Doubtless, I said so,' Khaled replied. 'But Allah has ordered it
otherwise.'
Almasta again smiled and shook her head.