The Ancient Allan by H. Rider Haggard (free children's ebooks online TXT) 📕

admiring its workmanship. “Is it a gift that you bring me from the King of the East, Shabaka?”

“It is a gift from myself, O Prince, if you will be pleased to accept it,” I answered, adding, “Yet it is true that it comes from the King of the East, since it was his own drinking-cup that he gave me in exchange for a certain bow, though not the one he sought, after he had pledged me.”

“You seem to have found much favour in the eyes of this king, Shabaka, which is more than most of us Egyptians do,” he exclaimed, then went on hastily, “Still, I thank you for your splendid gift, and however you came by it, shall value it much.”

“Perhaps my cousin Shabaka will tell us his story,” broke in Amada, her eyes still fixed upon the rose-hued pearls, “and of how he came to win all the beauteous things that dazzle our eyes to-night.”

Now I thought of offering her the pearls, but remembering my mother’s words, also that the Princess might not like to see another woman bear off such a prize, did not do so. So I began to tell my story instead, Bes seated on the ground near to me by the Prince’s wish, that he might tell his.

The tale was long for in it was much that went before the day when I saw myself in the chariot hunting lions with the King of kings, which I, the modern man who set down all this vision, now learned for the first time. It told of the details of my journey to the East, of my coming to the royal city and the rest, all of which it is needless to repeat. Then I came to the lion hunt, to my winning of the wager, and all that happened to me; of my being condemned to death, of the weighing of Bes against the gold, and of how I was laid in the boat of torment, a story at which I noticed Amada turn pale and tremble.

Here I ceased, saying that Bes knew better than I what had chanced at the Court while I was pinned in the boat, whereon all present cried out to Bes to take up the tale. This he did, and much better than I could have done, bringing out many little things which made the scene appear before them, as Ethiopians have the art of doing. At last he came to the place in his story where the king asked him if he had ever seen a woman fairer than the dancers, and went on thus:

“O Prince, I told the Great King that I had; that there dwelt in Egypt a lady of royal blood with eyes like stars, with hair like silk and long as an unbridled horse’s tail, with a shape like to that of a goddess, with breath like flowers, with skin like milk, with a voice like honey, with learning like to that of the god Thoth, with wit like a razor’s edge, with teeth like pearls, with majesty of bearing like to that of the king himself, with fingers like rosebuds set in pink seashells, with motion like that of an antelope, with grace like that of a swan floating upon water, and—I don’t remember the rest, O Prince.”

“Perhaps it is as well,” exclaimed Peroa. “But what did the King say then?”

“He asked her name, O Prince.”

“And what name did you give to this wondrous lady who surpasses all the goddesses in loveliness and charm, O dwarf Bes?” inquired Amada much amused.

“What name, O High-born One? Is it needful to ask? Why, what name could I give but your own, for is there any other in the world of whom a man whose heart is filled with truth could speak such things?”

Now hearing this I gasped, but before I could speak Amada leapt up, crying,

“Wretch! You dared to speak my name to this king! Surely you should be scourged till your bones are bare.”

“And why not, Lady? Would you have had me sit still and hear those fat trollops of the East exalted above you? Would you have had me so disloyal to your royal loveliness?”

“You should be scourged,” repeated Amada stamping her foot. “My Uncle, I pray you cause this knave to be scourged.”

“Nay, nay,” said Peroa moodily. “Poor simple man, he knew no better and thought only to sing your praises in a far land. Be not angry with the dwarf, Niece. Had it been Shabaka who gave your name, the thing would be different. What happened next, Bes?”

“Only this, Prince,” said Bes, looking upwards and rolling his eyes, as was his fashion when unloading some great lie from his heart. “The King sent his servants to bring my master from the boat, that he might inquire of him whether he had always found me truthful. For, Prince, those Easterns set much store by truth which here in Egypt is worshipped as a goddess. There they do not worship her because she lives in the heart of every man, and some women.”

Now all stared at Bes who continued to stare at the ceiling, and I rose to say something, I know not what, when suddenly the doors opened and through them appeared heralds, crying,

“Hearken, Peroa, Prince of Egypt by grace of the Great King. A message from the Great King. Read and obey, O Peroa, Prince of Egypt by grace of the Great King!”

As they cried thus from between them emerged a man whose long Eastern robes were stained with the dust of travel. Advancing without salute he drew out a roll, touched his forehead with it, bowing deeply, and handed it to the prince, saying,

“Kiss the Word. Read the Word. Obey the Word, O servant of our Master, the King of kings, beneath whose feet we are all but dust.”

Peroa took the roll, made a semblance of lifting it to his forehead, opened and read it. As he did so I saw the veins swell upon his neck and his eyes flash, but he only said,

“O Messenger, to-night I feast, to-morrow an answer shall be given to you to convey to the Satrap Idernes. My servants will find you food and lodging. You are dismissed.”

“Let the answer be given early lest you also should be dismissed, O Peroa,” said the man with insolence.

Then he turned his back upon the prince, as one does on an inferior, and walked away, accompanied by the herald.

When they were gone and the doors had been shut, Peroa spoke in a voice that was thick with fury, saying,

“Hearken, all of you, to the words of the writing.”

Then he read it.

“From the King of kings, the Ruler of all the earth, to Peroa, one of his servants in the Satrapy of Egypt,
    “Deliver over to my servant Idernes without delay, the person of Amada, a lady of the blood of the old Pharaohs of Egypt, who is your relative and in your guardianship, that she may be numbered among the women of my house.”

Now all present looked at each other, while Amada stood as though she had been frozen into stone. Before she could speak, Peroa went on,

“See how the King seeks a quarrel against me that he may destroy me and bray Egypt in his mortar, and tan it like a hide to wrap about his feet. Nay, hold your peace, Amada. Have no fear. You shall not be sent to the East; first will I kill you with my own hands. But what answer shall we give, for the matter is urgent and on it hang all our lives? Bethink you, Idernes has a great force yonder at Sais, and if I refuse outright, he will attack us, which indeed is what the King means him to do before we can make preparation. Say then, shall we fight, or shall we fly to Upper Egypt, abandoning Memphis, and there make our stand?”

Now the Councillors present seemed to find no answer, for they did not know what to say. But Bes whispered in my ear,

“Remember, Master, that you hold the King’s seal. Let an answer be sent to Idernes under the White Seal, bidding him wait on you.”

Then I rose and spoke.

“O Peroa,” I said, “as it chances I am the bearer of the private signet of the Great King, which all men must obey in the north and in the south, in the east and in the west, wherever the sun shines over the dominions of the King. Look on it,” and taking the ancient White Seal from about my neck, I handed it to him.

He looked and the Councillors looked. Then they said almost with one voice,

“It is the White Seal, the very signet of the Great Kings of the East,” and they bowed before the dreadful thing.

“How you came by this we do not know, Shabaka,” said Peroa. “That can be inquired of afterwards. Yet in truth it seems to be the old Signet of signets, that which has come down from father to son for countless generations, that which the King of kings carries on his person and affixes to his private orders and to the greatest documents of State, which afterwards can never be recalled, that of which a copy is emblazoned on his banner.”

“It is,” I answered, “and from the King’s person it came to me for a while. If any doubt, let the impress be brought, that is furnished to all the officers throughout the Empire, and let the seal be set in the impress.”

Now one of the officers rose and went to bring the impress which was in his keeping, but Peroa continued,

“If this be the true seal, how would you use it, Shabaka, to help us in our present trouble?”

“Thus, Prince,” I answered. “I would send a command under the seal to Idernes to wait upon the holder of the seal here in Memphis. He will suspect a trap and will not come until he has gathered a great army. Then he will come, but meanwhile, you, Prince, can also collect an army.”

“That needs gold, Shabaka, and I have little. The King of kings takes all in tribute.”

“I have some, Prince, to the weight of a heavy man, and it is at the service of Egypt.”

“I thank you, Shabaka. Believe me, such generosity shall not go unrewarded,” and he glanced at Amada who dropped her eyes. “But if we can collect the army, what then?”

“Then you can put Memphis into a state of defence. Then too when Idernes comes I will meet him and, as the bearer of the seal, command him under the seal to retreat and disperse his army.”

“But if he does, Shabaka, it will only be until he has received fresh orders from the Great King, whereon he will advance again.”

“No, Prince, he will not advance, or that army either. For when they are in retreat we will fall on them and destroy them, and declare you, O Prince, Pharaoh of Egypt, though what will happen afterwards I do not know.”

When they heard this all gasped. Only Amada whispered,

“Well said!” and Bes clapped his big hands softly in the Ethiopian fashion.

“A bold counsel,” said Peroa, “and one on which I must have the night to think. Return here, Shabaka, an hour after sunrise to-morrow, by which time I can gather all the wisest men in Memphis, and we will discuss this matter. Ah! here is the impress. Now let the seal be tried.”

A box was brought and opened. In it was a slab of wood on which was an impress of the King’s seal in wax, surrounded by those of other seals certifying that it was genuine. Also there was a writing describing the appearance of the seal. I handed the signet to Peroa who, having compared it with the description in the writing, fitted it to the impress on the wax.

“It is the same,” he said. “See, all of you.”

They looked and nodded. Then he would have given it back to me but I refused to take it, saying,

“It is not well that this mighty symbol should hang about the neck of a private man whence it might be stolen or lost.”

“Or who might be murdered for its sake,” interrupted Peroa.

“Yes, Prince. Therefore take it and hide it in the safest and most secret place in the palace, and with it these pearls that are too priceless to be flaunted about the streets of Memphis at night, unless indeed——” and I turned to look for Amada, but she was gone.

So the seal and the pearls were taken and locked in the box with the impress and borne away. Nor was I sorry to see the last of