Wisdom's Daughter by H. Rider Haggard (read the beginning after the end novel TXT) 📕

“Behold the fate of those who would have slain their king! Truly the gods are just,” he said. “Now let us fly to the great Ochus and receive from him his royal welcome and reward. Truly the gods are just!”

He turned about seeking for Mentor, but Mentor had gone. There remained in that chamber only Beltis the Queen, he, and I, Ayesha. Beltis glided to the door and made it fast. Then she came to Tenes and before he guessed her purpose, snatched the gold-hilted sword from his belt. She stood before him with fierce white face and blazing eyes.

“Truly the gods are just,” she repeated in a low and terrible voice. “Fool, do you not know what welcome Ochus will give you yonder and what rewards? Hearken! That false Greek, Mentor, told me of these but now, or pitying my lot, he offered me his love and to take me to safety. After I had refused him, he went his way while you stared from the window-place.”

“What words are these, Woman?” gasped Tenes. “Ochus is my ally; Ochus will greet me well who have served him well. Let us be going.”

“Ochus will greet you thus, O Tenes; I have it from the mouth of Mentor who has it from Ochus himself. Slowly he will cause you, a king, to be beaten to death with rods, which is the fate the Persians give to slaves and traitors. Then he will stuff your body with spices and tie it to the masthead of his ship, that when presently he sails for Egypt it may be a warning to Nectanebes the Pharaoh whom also you have betrayed.”

“It is a lie, it is a lie!” shouted Tenes. “Daughter of Isis, tell this mad woman that it is a lie.”

I stood still, answering nothing, and Beltis went on,

“Tenes, Fate is upon you. Will you meet it less bravely than the meanest of the thousands of this people whom you have given to doom? Take my last counsel and leap from yonder window, that you who have lived a coward and a traitor may at least die a man.”

He gnashed his teeth, he stared about him. He even went to the window-place and looked out as though he would brave the deed.

“I dare not,” he muttered, “I dare not. The gods are just; they will save me who sacrificed my son to them.”

Then he knelt down in the window-place and began to pray to Moloch whose brazen image showed redly in the gathering gloom.

“Take your sword, Tenes, if you dare not leap, and make an end,” said the cold voice of the fierce-faced Hebrew lady who stood behind him, whilst I, Ayesha, watched all this play as a spirit might that is afar from the affairs of earth, wondering how it would end.

But Tenes only answered,

“Nay, sharp steel is worse than steep air. I would live, not die. The gods are just, the gods are just!”

Then he went on praying to Moloch.

Queen Beltis grasped the handle of the short sword with both her hands and with all her strength drove it down between the broad shoulders of Tenes.

“Aye, dog of a Sidonian,” she cried, “the gods are very just, or at the least my God is just, and here—child-slayer—is the justice!”

Tenes screamed aloud, then struggled to his feet and stood striking at the air, the short sword still fixed in his back, a dreadful sight to behold.

“Would you murder me, Jewess?” he babbled, and staggered after her, still beating at the air with his clenched fist.

“Nay,” she answered, ever retreating before him, “I would but give you your due, or some of it. Go, garner the rest in Gehenna’s deep, O butcher of children and traitor blacker than the world has ever seen. Die, hound! Die, lurking jackal who would have mumbled the bones of greatness left by the full-fed Persian lion. Die, slaughterer of the son that sprang from us, and go meet his spirit in the world below, telling him that Elisheba his mother, a woman of the royal house of Israel, the Queen whom you had rejected, sent you thither. Die, while the city, the great City of the Seas, burns with the fires that your treachery has lighted and the cries of its tortured citizens ring in your ears. Pass with them to Gehenna and there strike your account, having their fire-shrivelled souls for witnesses and Moloch and Baal and Ashtoreth for judges and for company. Die, dog, die! and while your brain darkens, remember to the last that it was Elisheba, the robbed mother, who gave you to drink of the cup of death.”

So she reviled, ever flitting before him, while he staggered slowly after her round the great chamber. At length he could no more and fell at my feet, grasping my robe,

“Daughter of Isis,” he babbled, “whom I desired and would have made my queen, save me! Is this the great advancement that you swore to me?”

“Aye, mighty Tenes,” I answered, “since death is the greatest of all advancements. In death be king of Phœnicia, of Egypt and of the East, since surely there you will stand above all thrones, powers, and dominions. In death all things will be yours, O traitor Tenes, who would have done violence to the daughter of Isis, everything save Ayesha’s self, who here bids you farewell, vile Tenes.”

Then, wailing and moaning, he died, and thus robbed Ochus of his vengeance upon a tool of which he had no further need.

All was over and done. Within that royal chamber was silence, though without the flames roared and the cries of the Sidonians went up to Heaven. I, Ayesha, and Beltis the Queen, faced each other in the gloom and between us lay the body of Tenes, on whose white, distorted face flickered the light of the fires that burned without.

“What now, Queen?” I said.

“Death, I think,” she answered in a quiet voice, for all her rage seemed to have left her. “Why cheat his jaws of their richest morsel?”

“I have still work to do, my hour has not yet come, Queen.”

“Aye, I forgot. Follow me, Daughter of Isis; Beltis does not forsake those who have served her. Look your last upon this carrion that hoped to call you wife, and follow me.”

As we passed from that chamber I glanced through the window and saw that, although darkness now had fallen, the Holy Place beneath was bright as noon with the flames of the burning temple, and that in them the vast graven image of Moloch glowed as it had done upon the day of sacrifice when the child of Beltis was swallowed in its red-hot jaws. There it sat hideous; grinning as though in unholy triumph over this greatest of all sacrifices.

Then suddenly a pinnacle from the temple fell upon it, grinding it to powder. This was the end of Moloch, since, although Sidon, as I have learned, was rebuilt in the after years, never more was sacrifice made to that devil within its walls. This at least I, Ayesha, brought to pass—the end of the worship of Moloch at Sidon.

We passed through my sleeping-chamber, and as we went I seized the cabinet of priceless gems that Tenes from time to time had heaped upon me, since these were sworn to Isis and no goddess loves to be robbed of her offerings. At the back of the chamber was a passage leading to a door by which a lighted lamp had been set in readiness. At this door stood a man whom I knew for one of the Jewish servants sworn to the service of Beltis.

“You are late, royal Lady,” he exclaimed. “So late that I was about to flee, for look, the palace burns beneath us,” and he pointed to little wreaths of smoke that forced themselves up between the boards of the flooring of the bedchamber that we had passed.

“Late, but not too late,” she answered. “The King detained us and has gone another way. You have his orders and here is his ring,” and she pointed to the royal signet upon my hand. “Obey it and lead on.”

The man held up the lantern and glanced at the ring. Then he bowed and beckoned to us to follow him.

We went down passages, long passages with many turnings, and at length came to another door which he opened with a key. Passing it, we found ourselves in a vaulted place beneath which was water, where floated the royal barge, the same in which I had been rowed to the shore of Sidon. Oarsmen sat waiting within this barge, and guarding it were two Grecian soldiers, who commanded us to halt.

“This boat awaits King Tenes,” said one of them, “and none else may enter it.”

“I am the Queen,” answered Beltis.

“With whom I hear the King has quarrelled,” broke in the Greek with a sneer. “Queen or no, Lady, you cannot enter that boat without the King, or an order under his signet.”

Then I held up my hand, saying,

“Here is the signet itself. Let us pass.”

He stared at it by the light of the lamp, then said something to the other Greek and very doubtfully they obeyed. It was certain that these guards standing in that vaulted place did not know what was passing in the city. Moreover, I think it had come into their minds to rob us, or worse. At the least this is sure, that unless we could have killed those two Greeks, without the signet never should we have won to the boat.

We went on twelve paces or so and reached the barge, which was manned with sailors who wore the uniform of the King’s bodyguard, men who knew the Queen and saluted her by raising their oars. Beltis motioned first to me and afterward to the Jew who had been our guide from the palace, to enter the barge, then suddenly she said to the steersman who commanded the sailors,

“Go now whither this lady shall direct you, and know that if harm comes to her your lives shall pay the price of it, for she is no woman, but a goddess whom Death obeys.”

Now I stared at her and asked,

“Do you not come also, Queen Beltis?”

“Nay,” she whispered. “I choose another road to safety. Fear not for me, I will tell you all when we meet again. For a while farewell, Child of Wisdom and my friend. May the gods with whom you commune be your shield upon earth and receive you when you leave the earth, you who strove to save a certain one and cast your mantle over Beltis when a sword that now is set in another’s heart was at her own. Give way, sailors,” she cried, “and if you would look once more upon the sun, obey.”

Then with her own hands she thrust at the stern of the boat, causing it to move into the channel. Next moment Beltis had shrunk back into the darkness and was gone.

Now I would have returned to seek for her, but the Jew at my side called out,

“Give way! Give way and question not the word of the Queen who doubtless has work elsewhere. Be swift; doom is behind you.”

For a moment they hesitated, then bent them to their oars while I wondered what might be the meaning of the part that Beltis played. Did she perchance plan some trap for me? I did not know, but this I knew, that behind was the burning city, whereas in front lay the open sea. Whatever its perils I would face the sea, trusting to destiny to be my guide. As for Beltis, doubtless she took some other road to freedom. Mayhap after all she would shelter with Mentor, or Ochus had promised her deliverance in payment for the blood of Tenes.

So I sat silent,