THE SLIP 'TWIXT CUP AND LIP
And that night all Himyra was _en fête_. Under the light of fire, oil
lamps, and flaring torches, whose glare lit up the sky above the walls,
the Red City of Aphur made holiday. Crowds swarmed the public squares
and clustered about the free entertainments, the free refreshment
booths erected by order of Jadgor, Aphur's king, to celebrate the
coming alliance between Cathur and the state.
Processions of the people moved through the streets, laughing, singing,
shouting and making merry in honor of the event. Once before when Robur
brought a princess of Milidhur to Himyra the city had flared thus red
in the night. Now again Jadgor was making greater his prestige of power
and increasing Aphur's political might.
Croft, returning to his quarters in the palace from a day spent in
starting intensive work on a hundred engines and a marine adoption of
the same, met a surprise.
Upon his copper couch was a noble dress consisting of a golden cuirass
embossed in silver, a kilted skirt, gold and silver leg casings, and
sandals, a leathern belt, and a tempered copper sword. As he came in
a Mazzerian servant rose and bade him to one of the palace baths.
Returning from that, Croft donned a sleeveless shirt of silklike tissue
and the cuirass over that. Kneeling, the servant adjusted the sandals
and rose to buckle on the sword. These things he mentioned were a gift
from Jadgor himself, a mark of Croft's service to the state.
Jason had been less than human had he not felt a glow of satisfaction
in this sign of royal esteem and friendship. But greater far than that
was the knowledge that this night in Lakkon's house he would meet Naia
herself as a friend already known, and be lifted to high rank before
her eyes. That tonight would see her pledged to Kyphallos, he chose to
overlook. A year must follow before she became the Cathurian's wife.
Much could happen in a year, as he had said to Robur days ago.
Something he had read came into his mind. "Let him who wins her take
and keep Faustine." He thought that was the form of the quotation. At
least it was the sense. He nodded to himself. Let him who could win her
take and keep Naia of Aphur. He, Croft, had a year in which to win the
woman he desired.
Robur came into the room. Gaya had gone to Lakkon's earlier in the day
to act as Naia's lady in the ceremonial preparations. He suggested that
Croft and he be off. Aphurian etiquette decreed that the principal
guest be the last to arrive, in order that the assembled company might
do him honor when he came. Jadgor and Kyphallos would follow, said the
prince.
Croft assented at once. Lifting a circlet supporting a tuft of orange
feathers, he set it upon his head, and Robur and he set out, in the
prince's own car, drawn by four beautiful gnuppas, their bridles
trimmed with nodding scarlet plumes.
Before Lakkon's house they found themselves in a press of other
carriages and chariots from which were descending the best of Aphur's
life.
The huge doors of the court stood open, and the court itself blazed
with light. A double line of guards stood within the portals as the
guests streamed in, and a herald in gold and purple cried the name of
each new arrival aloud through a wide-mouthed trumpet held before his
lips.
Inside, the tables were spread much as on the former occasion Croft
had witnessed, save that now a dais had been constructed at one end,
where were the places of Kyphallos and Naia, Jadgor and Lakkon, and as
Jason was to learn of Robur, Gaya and himself. Lakkon stood at the end
of the double row of guards and welcomed his guests. He gave Croft his
hand with a smile which lighted his eyes. "Welcome, Lord Jasor--to mine
house--to Himyra's happiness, to the honor of Aphur," he said, and bent
his knee to Robur as the two men passed.
It was then Robur led Croft to the dais and mounted the steps as one
who knew beforehand his place assigned. Croft hung back, and his
companion laughed. "Up," he cried. "Tonight you are honored of Aphur
above most men."
* * * * *
Tingling at the knowledge, Croft mounted and seated himself at a wave
from Robur's hand. The prince gazed on the brilliant scene with a smile
of something like pride. "A goodly company," he said.
Croft, too, gazed around before he replied. Surely Robur had spoken
aright he thought as he swept the body of the guests where colors
blended in endless harmony of shades, and the white arms and shoulders
of matron and maid gleamed in the play of the lights.
Lights! He cast his eyes about the myriad of flaming lamps and suddenly
he smiled. "Yet would it be even more brilliant were the oil lamps
removed and in their place we were to put small globes of glass which
would emit a radiance not due to oil, but to a glowing filament shut
within them, so that they would need no filling, but would burn when a
small knob were turned."
"Zitu!" Robur gave him a glance. "Are you at it again--with your
wonderful dreams?"
"Yes." Once more Croft smiled and grew serious as it recurred to his
mind that before long he must again return to earth. "Call them dreams,
Rob," he said. "Dreams they may be--yet shall you see them come true.
And--listen, my loyal friend; it may be that before long I shall dream
again as I dreamed before--that my body shall lie as Jasor's body lay
in Scira--shall seem to die."
"What mean you?" Robur cried. "This you have said before."
Croft shook his head. "I may not tell you more; yet I would exact your
promise that when the time comes, as I know it will, you shall set a
guard about my body and forbid that it be disturbed until I shall again
awake with a full knowledge of what more shall be done for Aphur's
good."
"You mean this--you do not jest?" Robur's voice had grown little better
than a whisper, and his eyes burned the question into Croft's brain.
"Yes. Will you promise, Rob?"
"I will promise, and what I promise I fulfill," said Robur. "Yet--you
arouse fancies within me, Jasor. One would think Zitu himself spoke to
you in that sleep."
"No--yet what I do, I do by His grace," Croft replied. "And from
each sleep I am assured shall come good to the Tamarizian race." And
suddenly as trumpets announced the arrival of Kyphallos and the King,
he felt light, relieved, free. He had arranged for those periods of
unconsciousness for Jasor's body, and need not trouble more about it
with the promise he had won from Jadgor's son.
He watched while Kyphallos came in with Jadgor now and approached the
dais. Then, attracted by other trumpets, he turned toward the stair.
As before, Naia stood there with Gaya by her side. Yet now she was not
the same. Then she had been radiant in gold and purple. Now she stood
simply clad in white. White was her robe, edged in silver; white were
her sandals and white the plumes which rose above her hair.
Kyphallos and Jadgor waited while the guests took their seats. Lakkon
advanced to meet the two women on the stairs, gave his hand to his
daughter and turned to descend.
Another figure appeared. It was Magur, the priest, robed in blue,
accompanied by two young boys, each bearing a silver goblet on a tray
of the same metal. He advanced and met Naia and Lakkon as they reached
the foot of the stairs.
"Who comes?" his voice rang out.
"A maid who would pledge herself and her life to a youth, O Prince of
Zitu," Lakkon replied.
"The youth is present?" Magur went on with the ritualistic form.
"Aye. He stands yonder with Aphur's king," Lakkon declared.
"Who sponsors this woman at this time?" Magur spoke again.
"I--King of Aphur--brother of her who gave her life," Jadgor's voice
boomed forth.
"Come then," Magur said.
The party advanced again across the crystal floor. They joined
Kyphallos and the king. They ascended the dais and stood before the
assembled guests, who rose.
Magur spoke anew. "Naia of Aphur--thou woman--being woman sister of
Ga, and hence a priestess of that shrine of life which is eternal, and
guardian of the fire of life which is eternal, is it your intent to
pledge thyself to this man of Cathur who stands now at thy side?"
While Croft watched, Naia's lips moved. "Aye," came her response into
the ensuing silence. "Myself I pledge to him."
"And thou, Kyphallos of Cathur, do you accept this pledge and with it
the woman herself, to make her in the fulness of time thy bride to
cherish her and cause her to live as a glory to the name of woman to
whom all men may justly give respect?"
"Aye. So I pledge, by Zitu, and Azil, Giver of Life," said Cathur's
prince.
"Then take ye this, maid of Aphur." Magur drew from his robe a looped
silver cross and pressed it into her hands. "Hold it and guard it;
look upon is at the symbol of that life eternal which through you shall
be kept eternal, and which taken from the hands of Azil the Angel shall
be transmuted within thee into the life of men."
Turning, he took two goblets and poured wine from one to the other and
back. One he extended to Naia and one to Cathur's prince. "Drink," he
said. "Let these symbolize thy two bodies, the life of which shall be
united from this time on in purpose. Drink, and may Zitu bless ye in
that union which comes by his intent."
Cathur raised his goblet. "I drink of thee deeply," he spoke,
addressing Naia.
"And of thee I drink," she made answer, and set the wine to her lips.
As she did so her eyes leaped over the silver rim and met the eyes
of Croft. For a single instant his glance burned into hers, and she
faltered, her hand lowered the goblet quickly and she swayed. Yet even
so, she caught herself on the instant as a storm of applause broke from
the guests and sank to the divan, supported by Kyphallos's hand.
* * * * *
As for Croft, for him the light of the oil-lamps flickered and paled.
He sat momentarily lost in a mental tumult roused by that glance in
Naia's eyes. In that moment he felt he had spoken to her soul--had
reached to her inmost spirit, and made himself known. He had not meant
to do it. He had not realized while he leaned forward watching the
betrothal rite, that all his loathing of it, all his protest of spirit
against it, had kindled in his eyes. Not, indeed, until he had plumbed
the purple depths of _her_ eyes over the rim of the goblet had he
known--or dreamed that she could see and know--as now he felt she had
known.
Now, however, he stole a second glance to where she sat and found her
deathly pale with set lips and a bosom heaving so strongly beneath the
pure white fabric of her robe, that it seemed to actually flutter above
her rounded breasts. Her hand stole out and lifted a goblet from the
table and she drank. It seemed to Croft that she sought so to steady
herself before she set the wine back, and forced herself to smile.
Thereafter came the feast, the music, the dancers, a troupe of singers
and another of acrobats--the usual gamut of a Tamarizian state
entertainment, dragging out its length, before Jadgor rose at last in
his place and a hush fell over the court.
Croft, who throughout it all had been strangely silent, roused to the
pressure of Robur's hand, and as the prince prompted, he rose.
Thereafter he left his place and knelt before Jadgor while the king
drew his sword and struck him upon the breast and dubbed him so a
Prince of Aphur, and rising, bowed to the king, and to the guests who
rose to salute him in his new-found rank.
But of them all to Croft it seemed that he saw only the fair young
girl beside the Cathurian prince. And now, as before, his eyes leaped
swiftly to her face. Only now, instead of an expression of something
like a startled knowledge, there leaped toward him a purple light of
pleasure, of approval, of congratulation, and she smiled, as one may
smile in recognition of an old and well-known friend.
Then he found himself clasping hands with Robur, with Lakkon, with
Kyphallos, since the thing could not be avoided. Gaya, too, gave him
her hand and a word of congratulation, and--Naia was holding forth her
rounded, bare arm and the slender fingers which that morning he had
kissed.
He took them now and held them in his own. He trembled, and knew it,
and even so dared again to meet her eyes.
Once more he found them startled, puzzled, almost confused. A faint
color crept into her cheeks. "My lord," she said, "Aphur has given her
highest appreciation of your worth. That should mean much to you."
"Aye," Croft found his tongue. "Since it accords me the privilege of a
further word with you."
She drew her hand away. "Is a word with me of so great a value?" she
questioned with a somewhat unsteady laugh.
"To speak with Naia of Aphur I would dare death itself." Croft did not
tell her how much he had already dared for that word indeed.
"You are a bold man," she said, as he paused, and went on quickly.
"Yet, since you value it so highly, forget not our invitation of this
morning or that house in the mountains which is ours."
"I shall not forget, Princess Naia," Croft replied. His brain was in
a whirl. She had repeated the invitation. Did she really wish him to
come? Had he read her glorious eyes aright? Had she sensed the truth as
he had sensed it the first time he had seen her? Did she feel it? Did
she know? Had the call of his spirit reached the spirit which was hers?
Croft hardly believed that it had.
He scarcely believed that her knowledge of that call was a definite
thing as yet. Still--he was sure she felt something she herself could
not wholly fathom--that her invitation was sincere, dictated by the
call she as yet did not understand. Therefore he promised himself as
well as her, to accept. And he vowed that before that visit to her
mountain home was ended, she should recognize the truth.