THE COURT OF KALOON
Horrified, sick at heart, we continued our journey. No wonder that the
Khania hated such a mad despot. And this woman was in love with Leo,
and this lunatic Khan, her husband, was a victim to jealousy, which he
avenged after the very unpleasant fashion that we had witnessed. Truly
an agreeable prospect for all of us! Yet, I could not help reflecting,
as an object lesson that horrid scene had its advantages.
Now we reached the place where the river forked at the end of the
island, and disembarked upon a quay. Here a guard of men commanded by
some Household officer, was waiting to receive us. They led us through
a gate in the high wall, for the town was fortified, up a narrow,
stone-paved street which ran between houses apparently of the usual
Central Asian type, and, so far as I could judge by moonlight, with no
pretensions to architectural beauty, and not large in size.
Clearly our arrival was expected and excited interest, for people were
gathered in knots about the street to watch us pass; also at the windows
of the houses and even on their flat roofs. At the top of the long
street was a sort of market place, crossing which, accompanied by a
curious crowd who made remarks about us that we could not understand, we
reached a gate in an inner wall. Here we were challenged, but at a
word from Simbri it opened, and we passed through to find ourselves in
gardens. Following a road or drive, we came to a large, rambling house
or palace, surmounted by high towers and very solidly built of stone in
a heavy, bastard Egyptian style.
Beyond its doorway we found ourselves in a courtyard surrounded by a
kind of verandah from which short passages led to different rooms. Down
one of these passages we were conducted by the officer to an apartment,
or rather a suite, consisting of a sitting and two bed-chambers,
which were panelled, richly furnished in rather barbaric fashion, and
well-lighted with primitive oil lamps.
Here Simbri left us, saying that the officer would wait in the outer
room to conduct us to the dining-hall as soon as we were ready. Then
we entered the bed-chambers, where we found servants, or slaves,
quiet-mannered, obsequious men. These valets changed our foot-gear,
and taking off our heavy travelling robes, replaced them with others
fashioned like civilized frock-coats, but made of some white material
and trimmed with a beautiful ermine fur.
Having dressed us in these they bowed to show that our toilette was
finished, and led us to the large outer room where the officer awaited
us. He conducted us through several other rooms, all of them spacious
and apparently unoccupied, to a great hall lit with many lamps and
warmed--for the nights were still cold--with large peat fires. The roof
of this hall was flat and supported by thick, stone columns with carved
capitals, and its walls were hung with worked tapestries, that gave it
an air of considerable comfort.
At the head of the hall on a dais stood a long, narrow table, spread
with a cloth and set with platters and cups of silver. Here we waited
till butlers with wands appeared through some curtains which they drew.
Then came a man beating a silver gong, and after him a dozen or more
courtiers, all dressed in white robes like ourselves, followed by
perhaps as many ladies, some of them young and good-looking, and for
the most part of a fair type, with well-cut features, though others were
rather yellow-skinned. They bowed to us and we to them.
Then there was a pause while we studied one another, till a trumpet blew
and heralded by footmen in a kind of yellow livery, two figures were
seen advancing down the passage beyond the curtains, preceded by the
Shaman Simbri and followed by other officers. They were the Khan and the
Khania of Kaloon.
No one looking at this Khan as he entered his dining-hall clad in festal
white attire would have imagined him to be the same raving human
brute whom we had just seen urging on his devilish hounds to tear a
fellow-creature and a helpless horse to fragments and devour them. Now
he seemed a heavy, loutish man, very strongly built and not ill-looking,
but with shifty eyes, evidently a person of dulled intellect, whom one
would have thought incapable of keen emotions of any kind. The Khania
need not be described. She was as she had been in the chambers of the
Gate, only more weary looking; indeed her eyes had a haunted air and
it was easy to see that the events of the previous night had left
their mark upon her mind. At the sight of us she flushed a little, then
beckoned to us to advance, and said to her husband--“My lord, these are
the strangers of whom I have told you.”
His dull eyes fell upon me first, and my appearance seemed to amuse him
vaguely, at any rate he laughed rudely, saying in barbarous Greek mixed
with words from the local patois--“What a curious old animal! I have
never seen you before, have I?”
“No, great Khan,” I answered, “but I have seen you out hunting this
night. Did you have good sport?”
Instantly he became wide awake, and answered, rubbing his
hands--“Excellent. He gave us a fine run, but my little dogs caught him
at last, and then----” and he snapped his powerful jaws together.
“Cease your brutal talk,” broke in his wife fiercely, and he slunk away
from her and in so doing stumbled against Leo, who was waiting to be
presented to him.
The sight of this great, golden-bearded man seemed to astonish him, for
he stared at him, then asked--“Are you the Khania’s other friend
whom she went to see in the mountains of the Gate? Then I could not
understand why she took so much trouble, but now I do. Well, be careful,
or I shall have to hunt you also.”
Now Leo grew angry and was about to reply, but I laid my hand upon his
arm and said in English--“Don’t answer; the man is mad.”
“Bad, you mean,” grumbled Leo; “and if he tries to set his cursed dogs
on me, I will break his neck.”
Then the Khania motioned to Leo to take a seat beside her, placing me
upon her other hand, between herself and her uncle, the Guardian, while
the Khan shuffled to a chair a little way down the table, where he
called two of the prettiest ladies to keep him company.
Such was our introduction to the court of Kaloon. As for the meal that
followed, it was very plentiful, but coarse, consisting for the most
part of fish, mutton, and sweetmeats, all of them presented upon huge
silver platters. Also much strong drink was served, a kind of spirit
distilled from grain, of which nearly all present drank more than was
good for them. After a few words to me about our journey, the Khania
turned to Leo and talked to him for the rest of the evening, while I
devoted myself to the old Shaman Simbri.
Put briefly, the substance of what I learned from him then and
afterwards was as follows--Trade was unknown to the people of Kaloon,
for the reason that all communication with the south had been cut off
for ages, the bridges that once existed over the chasm having been
allowed to rot away. Their land, which was very large and densely
inhabited, was ringed round with unclimbable mountains, except to the
north, where stood the great Fire-peak. The slopes of this Peak and an
unvisited expanse of country behind that ran up to the confines of
a desert, were the home of ferocious mountain tribes, untamable
Highlanders, who killed every stranger they caught. Consequently,
although the precious and other metals were mined to a certain extent
and manufactured into articles of use and ornament, money did not exist
among the peoples either of the Plain or of the Mountain, all business
being transacted on the principle of barter, and even the revenue
collected in kind.
Amongst the tens of thousands of the aborigines of Kaloon dwelt a
mere handful of a ruling class, who were said to be--and probably
were--descended from the conquerors that appeared in the time of
Alexander. Their blood, however, was now much mixed with that of the
first inhabitants, who, to judge from their appearance and the yellow
hue of their descendants must have belonged to some branch of the great
Tartar race. The government, if so it could be called, was, on the
whole, of a mild though of a very despotic nature, and vested in an
hereditary Khan or Khania, according as a man or a woman might be in the
most direct descent.
Of religions there were two, that of the people, who worshipped the
Spirit of the Fire Mountain, and that of the rulers, who believed in
magic, ghosts and divinations. Even this shadow of a religion, if so
it can be called, was dying out, like its followers, for generation by
generation, the white lords grew less in number or became absorbed in
the bulk of the people.
Still their rule was tolerated. I asked Simbri why, seeing that they
were so few. He shrugged his shoulders and answered, because it suited
the country of which the natives had no ambition. Moreover, the present
Khania, our hostess, was the last of the direct line of rulers, her
husband and cousin having less of the blood royal in his veins, and as
such the people were attached to her.
Also, as is commonly the case with bold and beautiful women, she was
popular among them, especially as she was just and very liberal to
the poor. These were many, as the country was over-populated, which
accounted for its wonderful state of cultivation. Lastly they trusted to
her skill and courage to defend them from the continual attacks of the
Mountain tribes who raided their crops and herds. Their one grievance
against her was that she had no child to whom the khanship could
descend, which meant that after her death, as had happened after that of
her father, there would be struggles for the succession.
“Indeed,” added Simbri, with meaning, and glancing at Leo, out of the
corners of his eyes, “the folk say openly that it would be a good thing
if the Khan, who oppresses them and whom they hate, should die, so that
the Khania might take another husband while she is still young. Although
he is mad, he knows this, and that is why he is so jealous of any lord
who looks at her, as, friend Holly, you saw to-night. For should such an
one gain her favour, Rassen thinks that it would mean his death.”
“Also he may be attached to his wife,” I suggested, speaking in a
whisper.
“Perhaps so,” answered Simbri; “but if so, she loves not him, nor any of
these men,” and he glanced round the hall.
Certainly they did not look lovable, for by this time most of them were
half drunk, while even the women seemed to have taken as much as was
good for them. The Khan himself presented a sorry spectacle, for he was
leaning back in his chair, shouting something about his hunting, in a
thick voice. The arm of one of his pretty companions was round his neck,
while the other gave him to drink from a gold cup; some of the contents
of which had been spilt down his white robe.
Just then Atene looked round and saw him and an expression of hatred and
contempt gathered on her beautiful face.
“See,” I heard her say to Leo, “see the companion of my days, and learn
what it is to be Khania of Kaloon.”
“Then why do you not cleanse your court?” he asked.
“Because, lord, if I did so there would be no court left. Swine will to
their mire and these men and women, who live in idleness upon the toil
of the humble folk, will to their liquor and vile luxury. Well, the end
is near, for it is killing them, and their children are but few; weakly
also, for the ancient blood grows thin and stale. But you are weary and
would rest. To-morrow we will ride together,” and calling to an officer,
she bade him conduct us to our rooms.
So we rose, and, accompanied by Simbri, bowed to her and went, she
standing and gazing after us, a royal and pathetic figure in the midst
of all that dissolute revelry. The Khan rose also, and in his cunning
fashion understood something of the meaning of it all.
“You think us gay,” he shouted; “and why should we not be who do not
know how long we have to live? But you yellow-haired fellow, you must
not let Atene look at you like that. I tell you she is my wife, and if
you do, I shall certainly have to hunt you.”
At this drunken sally the courtiers roared with laughter, but taking Leo
by the arm Simbri hurried him from the hall.
“Friend,” said Leo, when we were outside, “it seems to me that this Khan
of yours threatens my life.”
“Have no fear, lord,” answered the Guardian; “so long as the Khania does
not threaten it you are safe. She is the real ruler of this land, and I
stand next to her.”
“Then I pray you,” said Leo, “keep me out of the way of that drunken
man, for, look you, if I am attacked _I_ defend myself.”
“And who can blame you?” Simbri replied with one of his slow, mysterious
smiles.
Then we parted, and having placed both our beds in one chamber, slept
soundly enough, for we were very tired, till we were awakened in the
morning by the baying of those horrible death-hounds, being fed, I
suppose, in a place nearby.
Now in this city of Kaloon it was our weary destiny to dwell for three
long months, one of the most hateful times, perhaps, that we ever passed
in all our lives. Indeed, compared to it our endless wanderings amid the
Central Asia snows and deserts were but pleasure pilgrimages, and our
stay at the monastery beyond the mountains a sojourn in Paradise. To set
out its record in full would be both tedious and useless, so I will only
tell briefly of our principal adventures.
On the morrow of our arrival the Khania Atene sent us two beautiful
white horses of pure and ancient blood, and at noon we mounted them and
went out to ride with her accompanied by a guard of soldiers. First she
led us to the kennels where the death-hounds were kept, great flagged
courts surrounded by iron bars, in which were narrow, locked gates.
Never had I seen brutes so large and fierce; the mastiffs of Thibet were
but as lap-dogs compared to them. They were red and black, smooth-coated
and with a blood-hound head, and the moment they saw us they came
ravening and leaping at the bars as an angry wave leaps against a rock.
These hounds were in the charge of men of certain families, who had
tended them for generations. They obeyed their keepers and the Khan
readily enough, but no stranger might venture near them. Also these
brutes were the executioners of the land, for to them all murderers and
other criminals were thrown, and with them, as we had seen, the Khan
hunted any who had incurred his displeasure. Moreover, they were used
for a more innocent purpose, the chasing of certain great bucks which
were preserved in woods and swamps of reeds. Thus it came about that
they were a terror to the country, since no man knew but what in the
end he might be devoured by them. “Going to the dogs” is a term full
of meaning in any land, but in Kaloon it had a significance that was
terrible.
After we had looked at the hounds, not without a prophetic shudder,
we rode round the walls of the town, which were laid out as a kind of
boulevard, where the inhabitants walked and took their pleasure in the
evenings. On these, however, there was not much to see except the river
beneath and the plain beyond, moreover, though they were thick and
high there were places in them that must be passed carefully, for, like
everything else with which the effete ruling class had to do, they had
been allowed to fall into disrepair.
The town itself was an uninteresting place also, for the most part
peopled by hangers-on of the Court. So we were not sorry when we crossed
the river by a high-pitched bridge, where in days to come I was destined
to behold one of the strangest sights ever seen by mortal man, and rode
out into the country. Here all was different, for we found ourselves
among the husbandmen, who were the descendants of the original owners of
the land and lived upon its produce. Every available inch of soil seemed
to be cultivated by the aid of a wonderful system of irrigation. Indeed
water was lifted to levels where it would not flow naturally, by means
of wheels turned with mules, or even in some places carried up by the
women, who bore poles on their shoulders to which were balanced buckets.
Leo asked the Khania what happened if there was a bad season. She
replied grimly that famine happened, in which thousands of people
perished, and that after the famine came pestilence. These famines were
periodical, and were it not for them, she added, the people would long
ago have been driven to kill each other like hungry rats, since having
no outlet and increasing so rapidly, the land, large as it was, could
not hold them all.
“Will this be a good year?” I asked.
“It is feared not,” she answered, “for the river has not risen well and
but few rains have fallen. Also the light that shone last night on the
Fire-mountain is thought a bad omen, which means, they say, that the
Spirit of the Mountain is angry and that drought will follow. Let us
hope they will not say also that this is because strangers have visited
the land, bringing with them bad luck.”
“If so,” said Leo with a laugh, “we shall have to fly to the Mountain to
take refuge there.”
“Do you then wish to take refuge in death?” she asked darkly. “Of this
be sure, my guests, that never while I live shall you be allowed to
cross the river which borders the slopes of yonder peak.”
“Why not, Khania?”
“Because, my lord Leo--that is your name, is it not?--such is my will,
and while I rule here my will is law. Come, let us turn homewards.”
That night we did not eat in the great hall, but in the room which
adjoined our bed-chambers. We were not left alone, however, for the
Khania and her uncle, the Shaman, who always attended her, joined our
meal. When we greeted them wondering, she said briefly that it was
arranged thus because she refused to expose us to more insults. She
added that a festival had begun which would last for a week, and that
she did not wish us to see how vile were the ways of her people.
That evening and many others which followed it--we never dined in the
central hall again--passed pleasantly enough, for the Khania made Leo
tell her of England where he was born, and of the lands that he had
visited, their peoples and customs. I spoke also of the history of
Alexander, whose general Rassen, her far-off forefather, conquered the
country of Kaloon, and of the land of Egypt, whence the latter came, and
so it went on till midnight, while Atene listened to us greedily, her
eyes fixed always on Leo’s face.
Many such nights did we spend thus in the palace of the city of Kaloon
where, in fact, we were close prisoners. But oh! the days hung heavy
on our hands. If we went into the courtyard or reception rooms of the
palace, the lords and their followers gathered round us and pestered us
with questions, for, being very idle, they were also very curious.
Also the women, some of whom were fair enough, began to talk to us on
this pretext or on that, and did their best to make love to Leo; for,
in contrast with their slim, delicate-looking men, they found this
deep-chested, yellow-haired stranger to their taste. Indeed they
troubled him much with gifts of flowers and messages sent by servants or
soldiers, making assignations with him, which of course he did not keep.
If we went out into the streets, matters were as bad, for then the
people ceased from their business, such as it was, and followed us
about, staring at us till we took refuge again in the palace gardens.
There remained, therefore, only our rides in the country with the
Khania, but after three or four of them, these came to an end owing to
the jealousy of the Khan, who vowed that if we went out together any
more he would follow with the death-hounds. So we must ride alone, if at
all, in the centre of a large guard of soldiers sent to see that we did
not attempt to escape, and accompanied very often by a mob of peasants,
who with threats and entreaties demanded that we should give back the
rain which they said we had taken from them. For now the great drought
had begun in earnest.
Thus it came about that at length our only resource was making pretence
to fish in the river, where the water was so clear and low that we could
catch nothing, watching the while the Fire-mountain, that loomed in the
distance mysterious and unreachable, and vainly racking our brains for
plans to escape thither, or at least to communicate with its priestess,
of whom we could learn no more.
For two great burdens lay upon our souls. The burden of desire to
continue our search and to meet with its reward which we were sure that
we should pluck amid the snows of yonder peak, if we could but come
there; and the burden of approaching catastrophe at the hands of the
Khania Atene. She had made no love to Leo since that night in the
Gateway, and, indeed, even if she had wished to, this would have been
difficult, since I took care that he was never left for one hour alone.
No duenna could have clung to a Spanish princess more closely than I did
to Leo. Yet I could see well that her passion was no whit abated;
that it grew day by day, indeed, as the fire swells in the heart of a
volcano, and that soon it must break loose and spread its ruin round.
The omen of it was to be read in her words, her gestures, and her tragic
eyes.