THE WITCH-QUEEN.
It is not very far from the kingdom of Noland to the kingdom of Ix. If
you followed the steps of Quavo the minstrel, you would climb the sides
of a steep mountain-range, and go down on the other side, and cross a
broad and swift river, and pick your way through a dark forest. You
would then have reached the land of Ix and would find an easy path into
the big city.
But even before one came to the city he would see the high marble towers
of Queen Zixi’s magnificent palace, and pause to wonder at its beauty.
Quavo the minstrel had been playing his harp in the city of Nole, and
his eyes were sharp; so he had seen many things to gossip and sing
about, and therefore never doubted he would be warmly welcomed by Queen
Zixi.
He reached the marble palace about dusk, one evening, and was bidden to
the feast which was about to be served.
A long table ran down the length of the lofty hall built in the center
of the palace; and this table was covered with gold and silver platters
bearing many kinds of meats and fruits and vegetables, while tall,
ornamented stands contained sweets and delicacies to tickle the palate.
At the head of the table, on a jeweled throne, sat Queen Zixi herself, a
vision of radiant beauty and charming grace.
Her hair was yellow as spun gold, and her wondrous eyes raven black in
hue. Her skin was fair as a lily, save where her cheek was faintly
tinted with a flush of rose-color.
Dainty and lovely, indeed, was the Queen of Ix in appearance; yet none
of her lords or attendants cast more than a passing glance upon her
beauty. For they were used to seeing her thus.
There were graybeards at her table this evening who could remember the
queen’s rare beauty since they were boys; ay, and who had been told by
their fathers and grandfathers of Queen Zixi’s loveliness when they also
were mere children. In fact, no one in Ix had ever heard of the time
when the land was not ruled by this same queen, or when she was not in
appearance as young and fair as she was to-day. Which easily proves she
was not an ordinary person at all.
And I may as well tell you here that Queen Zixi, despite the fact that
she looked to be no more than sixteen, was in reality six hundred and
eighty-three years of age, and had prolonged her life in this
extraordinary way by means of the arts of witchcraft.
I do not mean by this that she was an evil person. She had always ruled
her kingdom wisely and liberally, and the people of Ix made no manner of
complaint against their queen. If there were a war, she led her armies
in person, clad in golden mail and helmet; and in years of peace she
taught them to sow and reap grain, and to fashion many useful articles
of metal, and to build strong and substantial houses. Nor were her taxes
ever more than the people could bear.
Yet, for all this, Zixi was more feared than loved; for every one
remembered she was a witch, and also knew she was hundreds of years old.
So, no matter how amiable their queen might be, she was always treated
with extreme respect, and folks weighed well their words when they
conversed with her.
[Illustration: “‘STOP!’ CRIED THE QUEEN, WITH SUDDEN EXCITEMENT.”]
Next the queen, on both sides of the table, sat her most favored nobles
and their ladies; farther down were the rich merchants and officers of
the army; and at the lower end were servants and members of the
household. For this was the custom in the land of Ix.
Quavo the harpist sat near the lower end; and, when all had been
comfortably fed, the queen called upon him for a song. This was the
moment Quavo had eagerly awaited. He took his harp, seated himself in a
niche of the wall, and, according to the manner of ancient minstrels, he
sang of the things he had seen in other lands, thus serving his hearers
with the news of the day as well as pleasing them with his music. This
is the way he began:
“Of Noland now a tale I’ll sing,
Where reigns a strangely youthful king—
A boy, who has by chance alone
Been called to sit upon a throne.
His sister shares his luck, and she
The fairies’ friend is said to be;
For they did mystic arts invoke
And weave for her a magic cloak
Which grants its wearer—thus I’m told—
Gifts more precious far than gold.
“She’s but to wish, and her desire
Quite instantly she will acquire;
And when she lends it to her friends,
The favor unto them extends.
“For one who wears the cloak can fly
Like any eagle in the sky.
And one did wish, by sudden freak,
His dog be granted power to speak;
And now the beast can talk as well
As I, and also read and spell.
And—”
“Stop!” cried the queen, with sudden excitement. “Do you lie, minstrel,
or are you speaking the truth?”
Secretly glad that his news was received thus eagerly, Quavo continued
to twang the harp as he replied in verse:
“Now may I die at break of day,
If false is any word I say.”
“And what is this cloak like—and who owns it?” demanded the queen,
impetuously.
Sang the minstrel:
“The cloak belongs to Princess Fluff;
’Tis woven of some secret stuff
Which makes it gleam with splendor bright
That fills beholders with delight.”
Thereafter the beautiful Zixi remained lost in thought, her dainty chin
resting within the hollow of her hand and her eyes dreamily fixed upon
the minstrel.
[Illustration: “SHE MADE A SOLEMN VOW THAT SHE WOULD SECURE THE MAGIC
CLOAK WITHIN A YEAR.”]
And Quavo, judging that his news had brought him into rare favor, told
more and more wonderful tales of the magic cloak, some of which were
true, while others were mere inventions of his own; for newsmongers, as
every one knows, were ever unable to stick to facts since the world
began.
All the courtiers and officers and servants listened with wide eyes and
parted lips to the song, marveling greatly at what they had heard. And
when it was finally ended, and the evening far spent, Queen Zixi threw a
golden chain to the minstrel as a reward and left the hall, attended by
her maidens.
Throughout the night which followed, she tossed sleeplessly upon her
bed, thinking of the magic cloak and longing to possess it. And when the
morning sun rose over the horizon, she made a solemn vow that she would
secure the magic cloak within a year, even if it cost her the half of
her kingdom.
Now the reason for this rash vow, showing Zixi’s intense desire to
possess the cloak, was very peculiar. Although she had been an adept at
witchcraft for more than six hundred years, and was able to retain her
health and remain in appearance young and beautiful, there was one thing
her art was unable to deceive, and that one thing was a mirror.
[Illustration: “QUEEN ZIXI LEFT THE HALL ATTENDED BY HER MAIDENS.”]
To mortal eyes Zixi was charming and attractive; yet her reflection in a
mirror showed to her an ugly old hag, bald of head, wrinkled, with
toothless gums and withered, sunken cheeks.
For this reason the queen had no mirror of any sort about the palace.
Even from her own dressing-room the mirror had been banished, and she
depended upon her maids and hair-dressers to make her look as lovely as
possible. She knew she was beautiful in appearance to others; her maids
declared it continually, and in all eyes she truly read admiration.
But Zixi wanted to admire herself; and that was impossible so long as
the cold mirrors showed her reflection to be the old hag others would
also have seen had not her arts of witchcraft deceived them.
Everything else a woman and a queen might desire Zixi was able to obtain
by her arts. Yet the one thing she could _not_ have made her very
unhappy.
As I have already said, she was not a bad queen. She used her knowledge
of sorcery to please her own fancy or to benefit her kingdom, but never
to injure any one else. So she may be forgiven for wanting to see a
beautiful girl reflected in a mirror, instead of a haggard old woman in
her six hundred and eighty-fourth year.
Zixi had given up all hope of ever accomplishing her object until she
heard of the magic cloak. The powers of witches are somewhat limited;
but she knew that the powers of fairies are boundless. So if the magic
cloak could grant any human wish, as Quavo’s song had told her was the
case, she would manage to secure it and would at once wish for a
reflection in the mirror of the same features all others beheld—and then
she would become happy and content.