ALLAN MISSES OPPORTUNITY
All the while that she was talking thus the Lady or the Queen or the
Witch-woman, Ayesha, had been walking up and down the place from the
curtains to the foot of the dais, sweeping me with her scented robes as
she passed to and fro, and as she walked she waved her arms as an
orator might do to emphasise the more moving passages of her tale. Now
at the end of it, or what I took to be the end, she stepped on to the
dais and sank upon the couch as if exhausted, though I think her spirit
was weary rather than her body.
Here she sat awhile, brooding, her chin resting on her hand, then
suddenly looked up and fixing her glance upon me—for I could see the
flash of it through her thin veil—said,
“What think you of this story, Allan? Do you believe it and have you
ever heard its like?”
“_Never_,” I answered with emphasis, “and of course I believe every
word. Only there are one or two questions that with your leave I would
wish to ask, Ayesha.”
“By which you mean, Allan, that you believe nothing, being by nature
without faith and doubtful of all that you cannot see and touch and
handle. Well, perhaps you are wise, since what I have told you is not
all the truth. For example, it comes back to me now that it was not in
the temple on the Nile, or indeed upon the Earth, that I saw the vision
of Aphrodite and of Isis, but elsewhere; also that it was here in Kôr
that I was first consumed by passion for Kallikrates whom hitherto I
had scorned. In two thousand years one forgets much, Allan. Out with
your questions and I will answer them, unless they be too long.”
“Ayesha,” I said humbly, reflecting to myself that my questions would,
at any rate, be shorter than her varying tale, “even I who am not
learned have heard of these goddesses of whom you speak, of the Grecian
Aphrodite who rose from the sea upon the shores of Cyprus and dwelt at
Paphos and elsewhere——”
“Yes, doubtless like most men you have heard of her and perchance also
have been struck across the eyes with her hair, like your betters
before you,” she interrupted with sarcasm.
“——Also,” I went on, avoiding argument, “I have heard of Isis of the
Egyptians, Lady of the Moon, Mother of Mysteries, Spouse of Osiris
whose child was Horus the Avenger.”
“Aye, and I think will hear more of her before you have done, Allan,
for now something comes back to me concerning you and her and another.
I am not the only one who has broken the oaths of Isis and received her
curse, Allan, as _you_ may find out in the days to come. But what of
these heavenly queens?”
“Only this, Ayesha; I have been taught that they were but phantasms
fabled by men with many another false divinity, and could have sworn
that this was true. And yet you talk of them as real and living, which
perplexes me.”
“Being dull of understanding doubtless it perplexes you, Allan. Yet if
you had imagination you might understand that these goddesses are great
Principles of Nature; Isis, of throned Wisdom and strait virtue, and
Aphrodite, of Love, as it is known to men and women who, being human,
have it laid upon them that they must hand on the torch of Life in
their little hour. Also you would know that such Principles can seem to
take shape and form and at certain ages of the world appear to their
servants visible in majesty, though perchance to-day others with
changed names wield their sceptres and work their will. Now you are
answered on this matter. So to the next.”
Privately I did not feel as though I were answered at all and I was
sure that I know nothing of the kind she indicated, but thinking it
best to leave the subject, I went on,
“If I understood rightly, Ayesha, the events which you have been
pleased first to describe to me, and then to qualify or contradict,
took place when the Pharaohs reigned. Now no Pharaoh has sat upon the
throne of Egypt for near two thousand years, for the last was a Grecian
woman whom the Romans conquered and drove to death. And yet, Ayesha,
you speak as though you have lived all through that gulf of time, and
in this there must be error, because it is impossible. Therefore I
suppose you to mean that this history has come down to you in writing,
or perhaps in dreams. I believe that even in such far-off times there
were writers of romance, and we all know of what stuff dreams are made.
At least this thought comes to me,” I added hurriedly, fearing lest I
had said too much, “and one so wise as you are, I repeat, knows well
that a woman who says she has lived two thousand years must be mad
or—suffer from delusions, because I repeat, it is impossible.”
At these quite innocent remarks she sprang to her feet in a rage that
might truly be called royal in every sense.
“Impossible! Romance! Dreams! Delusions! Mad!” she cried in a ringing
voice. “Oh! of a truth you weary me, and I have a mind to send you
whither you will learn what is impossible and what is not. Indeed, I
would do it, and now, only I need your services, and if I did there
would be none left for me to talk with, since your companion is
moonstruck and the others are but savages of whom I have seen enough.
“Hearken, fool! _Nothing_ is impossible. Why do you seek, you who talk
of the impossible, to girdle the great world in the span of your two
hands and to weigh the secrets of the Universe in the balance of your
petty mind and, of that which you cannot understand, to say that it is
not? Life you admit because you see it all about you. But that it
should endure for two thousand years, which after all is but a second’s
beat in the story of the earth, that to you is ‘impossible,’ although
in truth the buried seed or the sealed-up toad can live as long.
Doubtless, also, you have some faith which promises you this same boon
to all eternity, after the little change called Death.
“Nay, Allan, it is possible enough, like to many other things of which
you do not dream to-day that will be common to the eyes of those who
follow after you. Mayhap you think it impossible that I should speak
with and learn of you from yonder old black wizard who dwells in the
country whence you came. And yet whenever I will I do so in the night
because he is in tune with me, and what I do shall be done by all men
in the years unborn. Yes, they shall talk together across the wide
spaces of the earth, and the lover shall hear her lover’s voice
although great seas roll between them. Nor perchance will it stop at
this; perchance in future time men shall hold converse with the
denizens of the stars, and even with the dead who have passed into
silence and the darkness. Do you hear and understand me?”
“Yes, yes,” I answered feebly.
“You lie, as you are too prone to do. You hear but you do not
understand nor believe, and oh! you vex me sorely. Now I had it in my
mind to tell you the secret of this long life of mine; long, mark you,
but not endless, for doubtless I must die and change and return again,
like others, and even to show you how it may be won. But you are not
worthy in your faithlessness.”
“No, no, I am not worthy,” I answered, who at that moment did not feel
the least desire to live two thousand years, perhaps with this woman as
a neighbour, rating me from generation to generation. Yet it is true,
that now when I am older and a certain event cannot be postponed much
longer, I do often regret that I neglected to take this unique chance,
if in truth there was one, of prolonging an existence which after all
has its consolations—especially when one has made one’s pile. Certainly
it is a case, a flagrant case, of neglected opportunities, and my only
consolation for having lost them is that this was due to the
uprightness of my nature which made it so hard for me to acquiesce in
alternative statements that I had every cause to disbelieve and thus to
give offence to a very powerful and petulant if attractive lady.
“So that is done with,” she went on with a little stamp of indignation,
“as soon you will be also, who, had you not crossed and doubted me,
might have lived on for untold time and become one of the masters of
the world, as I am.”
Here she paused, choked, I think, with her almost childish anger, and
because I could not help it, I said,
“Such place and power, if they be yours, Ayesha, do not seem to bring
you much reward. If I were a master of the world I do not think that I
should choose to dwell unchangingly among savages who eat men and in a
pile of ruins. But perhaps the curses of Aphrodite and of Isis are
stronger masters still?” and I paused inquiringly.
This bold argument—for now I see that it was bold—seemed to astonish
and even bewilder my wonderful companion.
“You have more wisdom than I thought,” she said reflectively, “who have
come to understand that no one is really lord of anything, since above
there is always a more powerful lord who withers all his pomp and pride
to nothingness, even as the great kings learned in olden days, and I,
who am higher than they are, am learning now. Hearken. Troubles beset
me wherein I would have your help and that of your companions, for
which I will pay each of you the fee that he desires. The brooding
white man who is with you shall free his daughter and unharmed; though
that _he_ will be unharmed I do not promise. The black savage captain
shall fight his fill and gain the glory that he seeks, also something
that he seeks still more. The little yellow man asks nothing save to be
with his master like a dog and to satisfy at once his stomach and his
apish curiosity. You, Allan, shall see those dead over whom you brood
at night, though the other guerdon that you might have won is now
passed from your reach because you mock me in your heart.”
“What must we do to gain these things?” I asked. “How can we humble
creatures help one who is all powerful and who has gathered in her
breast the infinite knowledge of two thousand years?”
“You must make war under my banner and rid me of my foes. As for the
reason, listen to the end of my tale and you shall learn.”
I reflected that it was a marvellous thing that this queen who claimed
supernatural powers should need our help in a war, but thinking it
wiser to keep my meditations to myself, said nothing. As a matter of
fact I might just as well have spoken, since as usual she read my
thoughts.
“You are thinking that it is strange, Allan, that I, the Mighty and
Undying, should seek your aid in some petty tribal battle, and so it
would be were my foes but common savages. But they are more; they are
men protected by the ancient god of this immemorial city of Kôr, a
great god in his day whose spirit still haunts these ruins and whose
strength still protects the worshippers who cling to him and practise
his unholy rites of human sacrifice.”
“How was this god named?” I asked.
“_Rezu_ was his name, and from him came the Egyptian Re or Ra, since in
the beginning Kôr was the mother of Egypt and the conquering people of
Kôr took their god with them when they burst into the valley of the
Nile and subdued its peoples long before the first Pharaoh, Menes, wore
Egypt’s crown.”
“Ra was the sun, was he not?” I asked.
“Aye, and Rezu also was a sun-god whom from his throne in the fires of
the Lord of Day, gave life to men, or slew them if he willed with his
thunderbolts of drought and pestilence and storm. He was no gentle king
of heaven, but one who demanded blood-sacrifice from his worshippers,
yes, even that of maids and children. So it came about that the people
of Kôr, who saw their virgins slain and eaten by the priests of Rezu,
and their infants burned to ashes in the fires that his rays lit,
turned themselves to the worship of the gentle moon, the goddess whom
they named _Lulala_, while some of them chose Truth for their queen,
since Truth, they said, was greater and more to be desired than the
fierce Sun-King or even the sweet Moon-Lady, Truth, who sat above them
both throned in the furthest stars of Heaven. Then the demon, Rezu,
grew wroth and sent a pestilence upon Kôr and its subject lands and
slew their people, save those who clung to him in the great apostasy,
and with them some others who served Lulala and Truth the Divine, that
escaped I know not how.”
“Did you see this great pestilence?” I asked, much interested.
“Nay, it befell generations before I came to Kôr. One Junis, a priest,
wrote a record of it in the caves yonder where I have my home and where
is the burying-place of the countless thousands that it slew. In my day
Kôr, of which, should you desire to hear it, I will tell you the
history, was a ruin as it is now, though scattered in the lands amidst
the tumbled stones which once built up her subject cities, a people
named the Amahagger dwelt in Households, or Tribes and there sacrificed
men by fire and devoured them, following the rites of the demon Rezu.
For these were the descendants of those who escaped the pestilence.
Also there were certain others, children of the worshippers of Lulala
whose kingdom is the moon, and of Truth the Queen, who clung to the
gentle worship of their forefathers and were ever at war with the
followers of Rezu.”
“What brought _you_ to Kôr, Ayesha?” I asked irrelevantly.
“Have I not said that I was led hither by the command and the symbol of
great Isis whom I serve? Also,” she added after a pause, “that I might
find a certain pair, one of whom had broken his oaths to her, tempted
thereto by the other.”
“And did you find them, Ayesha?” I asked.
“Aye, I found them, or rather they found me, and in my presence the
goddess executed her decree upon her false priest and drove his
temptress back to the world.”
“That must have been dreadful for you, Ayesha, since I understood that
you also—liked this priest.”
She sprang from her couch and in a low, hissing voice which resembled
the sound made by an angry snake and turned my blood cold to hear,
exclaimed,
“Man, do you dare to mock me? Nay, you are but a blundering, curious
fool, and it is well for you that this is so, since otherwise like
Kallikrates, never should you leave Kôr living. Cease from seeking that
which you may not learn. Suffice it for you to know that the doom of
Isis fell upon the lost Kallikrates, her priest forsworn, and that on
me also fell her doom, who must dwell here, dead yet living, till he
return again and the play begins afresh.
“Stranger,” she went on in a softer voice, “perchance your faith,
whate’er it be, parades a hell to terrify its worshippers and give
strength to the arms of its prophesying priests, who swear they hold
the keys of doom or of the eternal joys. I see you sign assent” (I had
nodded at her extremely accurate guess) “and therefore can understand
that in such a hell as this, here upon the earth I have dwelt for some
two thousand years, expiating the crime of Powers above me whereof I am
but the hand and instrument, since those Powers which decreed that I
should love, decree also that I must avenge that love.”
She sank down upon the couch as though exhausted by emotion, of which I
could only guess the reasons, hiding her face in her hands. Presently
she let them fall again and continued,
“Of these woes ask me no more. They sleep till the hour of their
resurrection, which I think draws nigh; indeed, I thought that you
perchance——But let that be. ‘Twas near the mark; nearer, Allan, than
you know, not in it! Therefore leave them to their sleep as I would if
I might—ah! if I might, whose companions they are throughout the weary
ages. Alas! that through the secret which was revealed to me I remain
undying on the earth who in death might perhaps have found a rest, and
being human although half divine, must still busy myself with the
affairs of earth.
“Look you, Wanderer, after that which was fated had happened and I
remained in my agony of solitude and sorrow, after, too, I had drunk of
the cup of enduring life and like the Prometheus of old fable, found
myself bound to this changeless rock, whereon day by day the vultures
of remorse tear out my living heart which in the watches of the night
is ever doomed to grow again within my woman’s breast, I was plunged
into petty troubles of the flesh, aye and welcomed them because their
irk at times gave me forgetfulness. When the savage dwellers in this
land came to know that a mighty one had arisen among them who was the
servant of the Lady of the Moon, those of them who still worshipped
their goddess Lulala, gathered themselves about me, while those of them
who worshipped Rezu sought to overthrow me.
“‘Here,’ they said, ‘is the goddess Lulala come to earth. In the name
of Rezu let us slay her and make an end,’ for these fools thought that
I could be killed. Allan, I conquered them, but their captain, who also
is named Rezu and whom they held and hold to be an emanation of the god
himself walking the earth, I could not conquer.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“For this reason, Allan. In some past age his god showed him the same
secret that was shown to me. He too had drunk of the Cup of Life and
lives on unharmed by Time, so that being in strength my equal, no spear
of mine can reach his heart clad in the armour of his evil god.”
“Then what spear can?” I inquired helplessly, who was bewildered.
“None at all, Allan, yet an _axe_ may, as you shall hear, or so I
think. For many generations there has been peace of a sort between the
worshippers of Lulala who dwell with me in the Plain of Kôr, or rather
of myself, since to these people _I_ am Lulala, and the worshippers of
Rezu, who dwell in the strongholds beyond the mountain crest. But of
late years their chief Rezu, having devastated the lands about, has
grown restless and threatened attack on Kôr, which is not strong enough
to stand against him. Moreover he has sought for a white queen to rule
under him, purposing to set her up to mock my majesty.”
“Is that why those cannibals carried away the daughter of my companion,
the Sea-Captain who is named Avenger?” I asked.
“It is, Allan, since presently he will give it out that I am dead or
fled, if he has not done so already, and that this new queen has arisen
in my place. Thereby he hopes to draw away many who cling to me ere he
advances upon Kôr, carrying with him this girl veiled as I am, so that
none may know the difference between us, since not a man of them has
ever looked upon my face, Allan. Therefore this Rezu must die, if die
he can; otherwise, although it is impossible that he should harm me, he
may slay or draw away my people and leave me with none to rule in this
place where by the decree of Fate I must dwell on until he whom I seek
returns. You are thinking in your heart that such savages would be
little loss and this is so, but still they serve as slaves to me in my
loneliness. Moreover I have sworn to protect them from the demon Rezu
and they have trusted in me and therefore my honour is at stake, for
never shall it be said that those who trusted in She-who-commands, were
overthrown because they put faith in one who was powerless.”
“What do you mean about an axe, Ayesha?” I asked. “Why can an axe alone
kill Rezu?”
“The thing is a mystery, O Allan, of which I may not tell you all,
since to do so I must reveal secrets which I have determined you shall
not learn. Suffice it to you to know that when this Rezu drank of the
Cup of Life he took with him his axe. Now this axe was an ancient
weapon rumoured to have been fashioned by the gods and, as it chanced,
that axe drew to itself more and stronger life than did Rezu, how, it
does not matter, if indeed the tale be more than a fable. At least this
I know is true, for he who guarded the Gate of Life, a certain Noot, a
master of mysteries, and mine also in my day of youth, who being a
philosopher and very wise, chose never to pass that portal which was
open to him, said it to me himself ere he went the way of flesh. He
told this Rezu also that now he had naught to fear save his own axe and
therefore he counselled him to guard it well, since if it was lifted
against him in another’s hands it would bring him down to death, which
nothing else could do. Like to the heel of Achilles whereof the great
Homer sings—have you read Homer, Allan?”
“In a translation,” I answered.
“Good, then you will remember the story. Like to the heel of Achilles,
I say, that axe would be the only gate by which death could enter his
invulnerable flesh, or rather it alone could make the gate.”
“How did Noot know that?” I asked.
“I cannot say,” she answered with irritation. “Perchance he did not
know it. Perchance it is all an idle tale, but at least it is true that
Rezu believed and believes it, and what a man believes is true for him
and will certainly befall. If it were otherwise, what is the use of
faith which in a thousand forms supports our race and holds it from the
horrors of the Pit? Only those who believe nothing inherit what they
believe—nothing, Allan.”
“It may be so,” I replied prosaically, “but what happened about the
axe?”
“In the end it was lost, or as some say stolen by a woman whom Rezu had
deserted, and therefore he walks the world in fear from day to day.
Nay, ask no more empty questions” (I had opened my mouth to speak) “but
hear the end of the tale. In my trouble concerning Rezu I remembered
this wild legend of the axe and since, when lost in a forest every path
that may lead to safety should be explored, I sent my wisdom forth to
make inquiry concerning it, as I who am great, have the power to do, of
certain who are in tune with me throughout this wide land of Africa.
Amongst others, I inquired of that old wizard whom you named Zikali,
Opener of Roads, and he gave me an answer that there lived in his land
a certain warrior who ruled a tribe called the People of the Axe by
right of the Axe, of which axe none, not even he, knew the beginning or
the legend. On the chance, though it was a small one, I bade the wizard
send that warrior here with his axe. Last night he stood before me and
I looked upon him and the axe, which at least is ancient and has a
story. Whether it be the same that Rezu bore I do not know who never
saw it, yet perchance he who bears it now is prepared to hold it aloft
in battle even against Rezu, though he be terrible to see, and then we
shall learn.”
“Oh! yes,” I answered, “he is quite prepared, for that is his nature.
Also among this man’s people, the holder of the Axe is thought to be
unconquerable.”
“Yet some must have been conquered who held it,” she replied musingly.
“Well, you shall tell me that tale later. Now we have talked long and
you are weary and astonished. Go, eat and rest yourself. To-night when
the moon rises I will come to where you are, not before, for I have
much that must be done, and show you those with whom you must fight
against Rezu, and make a plan of battle.”
“But I do not want to fight,” I answered, “who have fought enough and
came here to seek wisdom, not bloodshed.”
“First the sacrifice, then the reward,” she answered, “that is if any
are left to be rewarded. Farewell.”