Books: Ardath

M >> Marie Corelli >> Ardath

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The men were for the most part arrayed like himself,--though here
and there he met some few whose garments were of soft silk instead
of linen, who wore gold belts in place of silver, and who carried
their daggers in sheaths that were literally encrusted all over
with flashing jewels.

As he advanced more into the city's centre, the crowds increased,
--so much so that the noise of traffic and clatter of tongues
became quite deafening to his ears. Richly ornamented chariots
drawn by spirited horses, and driven by personages whose attire
seemed to be a positive blaze of gold and gems, rolled past in a
continuous procession,--fruit-sellers, carrying their lovely
luscious merchandise in huge gilded moss-wreathed baskets, stood
at almost every corner,--flower-girls, fair as flowers, bore aloft
in their gracefully upraised arms wide wicker trays, overflowing
with odorous blossoms tied into clusters and wreaths,--and there
were countless numbers of curious little open square carts to
which mules, wearing collars of bells, were harnessed, the tinkle-
tinkle of their constant passage through the throng making
incessant merry music. These vehicles bore the names of traders,--
purveyors in wine and dealers in all sorts of provisions,--but
with the exception of such necessary business caterers, the
streets were full of elegant loungers of both sexes, who seemed to
have nothing whatever to do but amuse themselves.

The women were especially noticeable for their lazy grace of
manner,--they glided to and fro with an indolent floating ease
that was indescribably bewitching,--the more so as many of them
were endowed with exquisite beauty of form and feature,--beauty
greatly enhanced by the artistic simplicity of their costume.

This was composed of a straight clinging gown, slightly gathered
at the throat, and bound about the waist with a twisted girdle of
silver, gold, and, in some cases, jewels,--their arms, like those
of the men, were bare, and their small, delicate feet were
protected by sandals fastened with crossed bands of ribbon
coquettishly knotted. The arrangement of their hair was evidently
a matter of personal taste, and not the slavish copying of any set
fashion,--some allowed it to hang in loosely flowing abundance
over their shoulders,--others had it closely braided, or coiled
carelessly in a thick soft mass at the top of the head,--but all
without exception wore white veils,--veils, long, transparent, and
filmy as gossamer, which they flung back or draped about them at
their pleasure ... and presently, after watching several of these
fairy creatures pass by and listening to their low laughter and
dulcet speech, a sudden memory leaped into Alwyn's confused
brain,--an old, old memory that seemed to have lain hidden among
his thoughts for centuries,--the memory of a story called "LAMIA"
told in verse as delicious as music aptly played. Who wrote the
story? ... He could not tell,--but he recollected that it was
about a snake in the guise of a beautiful woman. And these women
in this strange city looked as if they also had a snake-like
origin,--there was something so soft and lithe and undulating
about their movements and gestures. Weary of walking, distracted
by the ever-increasing clamor, and feeling lost among the crowd,
he at last perceived a wide and splendid square, surrounded wild
stately houses, and having in its centre a huge, white granite
obelisk which towered like a pillar of snow against the dense blue
of the sky. Below it a massively sculptured lion, also of white
granite, lay couchant, holding a shield between its paws,--and on
either side two fine fountains were in full play, the delicate
spiral columns of water being dashed up beyond the extreme point
of the obelisk, so that its stone face was wet and glistening with
the tossing rainbow shower.

Here he turned aside out of the main thoroughfare,--there were
tall, shady trees all about, and fantastically carved benches
underneath them, ... he determined to sit down and rest, and
steadily THINK OUT his involved and peculiar condition of mind.

As he passed the sculptured lion, he saw certain words engraved on
the shield it held,--they were ... "THROUGH THE LION AND THE
SERPENT SHALL AL-KYRIS FLOURISH."

There was no disorder in his intelligence concerning this
sentence,--he was able to read it clearly and comprehensively, ...
and yet ... WHAT was the language in which it was written, and how
did he come to know it so thoroughly? ... With a sigh that was
almost a groan, he sank listlessly on a seat, and burying his head
in his hands to shut out all the strange sights which so direfully
perplexed his reason, he began to subject himself to a patient,
serious cross-examination.

In the first place ... WHO WAS HE? Part of the required answer
came readily,--THEOS. Theos what? His brain refused to clear up
this point,--it repeated THEOS--THEOS,--over and over again, but
no more!

Shuddering with a vague dread, he asked himself the next question,
... FROM WHENCE HAD HE COME? The reply was direct and decisive--
FROM ARDATH.

But what was ARDATH? It was neither a country nor a city--it was a
"waste field," where he had seen. ... ah! WHOM had he seen? He
struggled furiously with himself for some response to this, ...
none came! Total dumb blankness was the sole result of the inward
rack to which he subjected his thoughts!

And where had he been before he ever saw Ardath? ... had he NO
recollection of any other place, any other surroundings?--
ABSOLUTELY NONE!--torture his wits as he would,--ABSOLUTELY NONE!
... This was frightful ... incredible! ... Surely, surely, he
mused piteously, there must have been something in his life before
the name of "Ardath" had swamped his intelligence! ...

He lifted his head, ... his face had grown ashen gray and rigid in
the deep extremity of his speechless trouble and terror,--there
was a sick faintness at his heart, and rising, he moved unsteadily
to one of the great fountains, and there dipping his hands in the
spray, he dashed some drops on his brow and eyes. Then, making a
cup of the hollowed palms, he drank thirstily several draughts of
the cool, sweet water,--it seemed to allay the fever in his blood.
...

He looked around him with a wild, vague smile,--Al-Kyris! ... of
course! ... he was in Al-Kyris!--why was he so distressed about
it? It was a pleasant city,--there was much to see,--and also much
to learn! ... At that instant a loud blast of silver-toned
trumpets split the air, followed by a storm-roar of distant
acclamation surging up from thousands of throats,--crowds of men
and women suddenly flocked into the Square, across it, and out of
it again, all pressing impetuously in one direction,--and urged
forward by the general rush as well as by a corresponding impulse
within himself, he flung all meditation to the winds, and plunged
recklessly into the shouting, onsweeping throng. He was borne
swiftly with it down a broad avenue lined with grand old trees and
decked with flying flags and streamers, to the margin of a noble
river, as still as liquid amber in the wide sheen and heat of the
noonday sun. A splendid marble embankment, adorned with colossal
statues, girdled it on both sides,--and here, under silken awnings
of every color, pattern and design, an enormous multitude was
assembled,--its white attired, closely packed ranks stretching far
away into the blue distance on either hand.

All the attention of this vast concourse appeared to be centered
on the slow approach of a strange, gilded vessel, that with great
curved prow and scarlet sails flapping idly in the faint breeze,
was gliding leisurely yet majestically over the azure blaze of the
smooth water. Huge oars like golden fins projected from her sides
and dipped lazily every now and then, apparently wielded by the
hands of invisible rowers, whose united voices supplied the lack
of the needful wind,--and as he caught sight of this cumbrously
quaint galley, Theos, moved by sudden interest, elbowed his way
resolutely though the dense crowd till he gained the edge of the
embankment, where leaning against the marble balustrade, he
watched with a curious fascination its gradual advance.

Nearer and nearer it came, ... brighter and brighter glowed the
vivid scarlet of its sails, ... a solemn sound of stringed music
rippled enchantingly over the glassy river, mingling itself with
the wild shouting of the populace,--shouting that seemed to rend
the hollow vault of heaven! ... Nearer ... nearer ... and now the
vessel slid round and curtsied forward, ... its propelling fins
moved more rapidly ... another graceful sweep,--and lo! it fronted
the surging throng like a glittering, fantastic Apparition drawn
out of dreamland! ...

Theos stared at it, dazzled and stricken with a half-blind
breathless wonder,--was ever a ship like this he thought?--a ship
that sparkled all over as though it were carven out of one great
burning jewel? ... Golden hangings, falling in rich, loose folds,
draped it gorgeously from stem to stern,--gold cordage looped the
sails,--on the deck a band of young gals clad in white, and
crowned with flowers, knelt, playing softly on quaintly shaped
instruments,--and a cluster of tiny, semi-nude boys, fair as young
cupids, were grouped in pretty reposeful attitudes along the edge
of the gilded prow holding garlands of red and yellow blossoms
which trailed down to the surface of the water beneath.

As a half-slumbering man may note a sudden brilliant glare of
sunshine flashing on the wall of his sleeping-chamber, so Theos at
first viewed this floating pageant in confused, uncomprehending
bewilderment, ... when all at once his stupefied senses were
roused to hot life and pulsing action,--with a smothered cry of
ecstasy he fixed his straining, eager gaze on one supreme, fair
Figure,--the central Glory of the marvellous picture! ...

A Woman or a Goddess?--a rainbow Flame in mortal shape?--a spirit
of earth, air, fire, water? ... or a Thought of Beauty embodied
into human sweetness and made perfect? ... Clothed in gold attire,
and girdled with gems, she stood, leaning indolently against the
middle mast of the vessel, her great, sombre, dusky eyes resting
drowsily on the swarming masses of people, whose frenzied roar of
rapture and admiration sounded like the breaking of billows.

Presently, with a slow, solemn smile on her haughtily curved lips,
she extended one hand and arm, snow-white and glittering with
jewels, and made an imperious gesture to command silence.
Instantly a profound hush ensued. Lifting a long, slender, white
wand, at the end of which could be plainly seen the gleaming
silver head of a Serpent, she described three circles in the air
with a perfectly even, majestic motion, and as she did this, her
marvellous eyes turned toward Theos, and dwelt steadily upon him.

He met her gaze fully, absorbing into his inmost soul the mesmeric
spell of her matchless loveliness,--he saw, without actually
realizing the circumstance, that the whole vast multitude around
him had fallen prostrate in an attitude of worship,--and still he
stood erect, drinking in the warmth of those dark, witching,
sleepy orbs that flashed at him half-resentfully, half-
mockingly, . . and then, . . the beauty-burdened ship began to sway
gently, and move onwards,--she, that wondrous Siren-Queen was
vanishing,--vanishing!--she and her kneeling maidens, and music,
and flowers,--vanishing ... Where?

With a start he sprang from his post of observation,--he felt he
must go after her at all risks,--he must find out her place of
abode,--her rank,--her title,--her name! ... All at once he was
roughly seized by a dozen or more of hands,--loud, angry voices
shouted on all sides.. "A traitor! ... a traitor!" ... "An
infidel!"

"A spy!" "A malcontent!"

"Into the river with him!"

"He refuses worship!" "He denies the gods!"

"Bear him to the Tribunal!".. And in a trice of time, he was
completely surrounded and hemmed in by an exasperated,
gesticulating crowd, whose ominous looks and indignant mutterings
were plainly significant of prompt hostility. With a few agile
movements he succeeded in wrenching himself free from the grasp of
his assailants, and standing among them like a stag at bay he
cried:

"What have I done? How have I offended? Speak! Or is it the
fashion of Al-Kyris to condemn a man unheard?"

No one answered this appeal,--the very directness of it seemed to
increase the irritation of the mob, that pressing closer and
closer, began to jostle and hustle him in a threatening manner
that boded ill for his safety,--he was again taken prisoner, and
struggling in the grasp of his captors, he was preparing to fight
for his life as best he could, against the general fury, when the
sound of musical strings, swept carelessly upwards in the
ascending scale, struck sweetly through the clamor. A youth,
arrayed in crimson, and carrying a small golden harp, marched
sedately between the serried ranks that parted right and left at
his approach,--thus clearing the way for another personage who
followed him,--a graceful, Adonis-like personage in glistening
white attire, who wore a myrtle-wreath on his dark, abundant
locks, and whom the populace--forgetting for a moment the cause of
their recent disturbance--greeted with a ringing and ecstatic
shout of "HAIL! SAH-LUMA!"

Again and again this cry was uplifted, till far away on the
extreme outskirts of the throng the joyous echo of it was repeated
faintly yet distinctly ... "HAIL! HAIL, SAH-LUMA!"

CHAPTER XII.

SAH-LUMA.

The new-comer thus enthusiastically welcomed bowed right and left,
with a condescending air, in response to the general acclamation,
and advancing to the spot where Theos stood, an enforced prisoner
in the close grip of three or four able-bodied citizens, he said:

"What turbulence is here? By my faith! ... when I heard the noise
of quarrelsome contention jarring the sweetness of this nectarous
noon, methought I was no longer in Al-Kyris, but rather in some
western city of barbarians where music is but an unvalued name!"

And he smiled--a dazzling, child-like smile, half petulant, half-
pleased--a smile of supreme self-consciousness as of one who knew
his own resistless power to charm away all discord.

Several voices answered him in clamorous unison:

"A traitor, Sah-luma!" "A profane rebel!" ... "An unbeliever!" ... "A
most insolent knave!"--"He refused homage to the High Priestess!"
... "A renegade from the faith!"

"Now, by the Sacred Veil!" cried Sah-luma impatiently--"Think ye I
can distinguish your jargon, when like ignorant boors ye talk all
at once, tearing my ears to shreds with such unmelodious tongue-
clatter! Whom have ye seized thus roughly? ... Let him stand
forth!"

At this command, the men who held Theos relaxed their grasp, and
he, breathless and burning with indignation at the treatment he
had received, shook himself quickly free of all restraint, and
sprang forward, confronting his rescuer. There was a brief pause,
during which the two surveyed each other with looks of mutual
amazement. What mysterious indication of affinity did they read in
one another's faces? ... Why did they stand motionless, spell-
bound and dumb for a while, eying half-admiringly, half-enviously,
each other's personal appearance and bearing? ...

Undoubtedly a curious, far-off resemblance existed between them,--
yet it was a resemblance that had nothing whatever to do with the
actual figure, mien, or countenance. It was that peculiar and
often undefinable similarity of expression, which when noticed
between two brothers who are otherwise totally unlike, instantly
proclaims their relationship.

Theos realized his own superior height and superior muscular
development,--but what were these physical advantages compared to
the classic perfection of Sah-luma's beauty?--beauty combining the
delicate with the vigorous, such as is shadowed forth in the
artist-conceptions of the god Apollo. His features, faultlessly
regular, were redeemed from all effeminacy by the ennobling
impress of high thought and inward inspiration,--his eyes were
dark, with a brilliant under-reflection of steel-gray in them,
that at times flashed out like the soft glitter of summer-
lightning in the dense purple of an August heaven,--his olive-
tinted complexion was flushed warmly with the glow of health,--and
he had broad, bold, intellectual brows over which the rich hair
clustered in luxuriant waves,--hair that was almost black, with
here and there a curious fleck of reddish gold brightening its
curling masses, as though a stray sunbeam or two had been caught
and entangled therein. He was arrayed in a costume of the finest
silk,--his armlets, belt, and daggersheath were all of jewels,--
and the general brilliancy of his attire was furthermore increased
by a finely worked flexible collar of gold, set with diamonds. The
first exchange of wondering glances over, he viewed Theos with a
critical, half supercilious air.

"What art thou?" he demanded ... "What is thy calling?"

"Theos hesitated,--then spoke out boldly and unthinkingly--

"I am a Poet!" he said.

A murmur of irrepressible laughter and derision ran through the
listening crowd. Sah-luma's lip curled haughtily--

"A Poet!" and his fingers played idly with the dagger at his belt
--"Nay, not so! There is but one Poet in Al-Kyris, and I am he!"

Theos looked at him steadily,--a subtle sympathy attracted him
toward this charming boaster,--involuntarily he smiled, and bent
his head courteously.

"I do not seek to figure as your rival ..." he began.

"Rival!" echoed Sah-luma--"I have no rivals!"

A burst of applause from those nearest to them in the throng
declared the popular approval of this assertion, and the boy
bearing the harp, who had loitered to listen to the conversation,
swept the strings of his instrument with a triumphant force and
fervor that showed how thoroughly his feelings were in harmony
with the expression of his master's sentiments. Sah-luma
conquered, with an effort, his momentary irritation, and resumed
coldly:

"From whence do you come, fair sir? We should know your name,--
POETS are not so common!" This with an accent of irony.

Taken aback by the question, Theos stood irresolute, and uncertain
what to say. For he was afflicted with a strange and terrible
malady such as he dimly remembered having heard of, but never
expected to suffer from,--a malady in which his memory had become
almost a blank as regarded the past events of his life--though
every now and then shadowy images of by-gone things flitted across
his brain, like the transient reflections of wind-swept clouds on
still, translucent water. Presently in the midst of his painful
indecision, an answer suggested itself like a whispered hint from
some invisible prompter:

"Poets like Sah-luma are no doubt as rare as nightingales in
snow!" he said with a soft deference, and an increasing sense of
tenderness for his haughty, handsome interlocutor--"As for me, I
am a singer of sad songs that are not worth the hearing! My name
is Theos,--I come from far beyond the seas, and am a stranger in
Al-Kyris,--therefore if I have erred in aught, I must be blamed
for ignorance, not malice!"

As he spoke Sah-luma regarded him intently,--Theos met his gaze
frankly and unflinchingly. Surely there was some singular power of
attraction between the two! ... for as their flashing eyes again
dwelt earnestly on one another, they both smiled, and Sah-luma,
advancing, proffered his hand. Theos at once accepted it, a
curious sensation of pleasure tingling through his frame, as he
pressed those slender blown fingers in his own cordial clasp.

"A stranger in Al-Kyris?--and from beyond the seas? Then by my
life and honor, I insure thy safety and bid thee welcome! A singer
of sad songs? ... Sad or merry, that thou are a singer at all makes
thee the guest of the King's Laureate!" A look of conscious vanity
illumined his face as he thus announced with proud emphasis his
own title and claim to distinction. "The brotherhood of poets," he
continued laughingly--"is a mystic and doubtful tie that hath oft
been questioned,--but provided they do not, like ill-conditioned
wolves, fight each other out of the arena, there should be joy in
the relationship". Here, turning full upon the crowd, he lifted
his rich, melodious voice to higher and more ringing tones:

"It is like you, O hasty and misjudging Kyrisians, that finding a
harmless wanderer from far off lands, present at the pageant of
the Midsummer Benediction, ye should pounce upon him, even as
kites on a straying sea-bird, and maul him with your ruthless
talons! Has he broken the law of worship! Ye have broken the law
of hospitality! Has he failed to kneel to the passing Ship of the
Sun? So have ye failed to handle him with due courtesy! What
report shall he bear hence of your gentleness and culture to those
dim and unjoyous shores beyond the gray green wall of ocean-
billows, where the very name of Al-Kyris serves as a symbol for
all that is great and wise and wondrous in the whole round circle
of the world? Moreover ye know full well that foreigners and
sojourners in the city are exempt from worship,--and the King's
command is that all such should be well and nobly entertained, to
the end that when they depart they may carry with them a full
store of pleasant memories. Hence, scatterbrains, to your homes!--
No festival can ye enjoy without a gust of contention!--ye are
ill-made instruments all, whose jarring strings even I, crowned
Minstrel of the King, can scarce keep one day in happy tune! Look
you now! ... this stranger is my guest!--. Is there a man in Al-
Kyris who will treat as an enemy one whom Sah-luma calls friend?"

A storm of applause followed this little extempore speech,--
applause accompanied by an odorous rain of flowers. There were
many women in the crowd, and these had pressed eagerly forward to
catch every word that dropped from the Poet-Laureate's mellifluous
lips,--now, moved by one common impulse, they hastily snatched off
their posies and garlands, and flung them in lavish abundance at
his feet. Some of the blossoms chancing to fall on Theos and cling
to his garments, he quickly shook them off, and gathering them
together, presented them to the personage for whom they were
intended. He, however, gayly rejected them, moving his small
sandalled foot playfully among the thick wealth of red and white
roses that lay waiting to be crushed beneath his tread.

"Keep thy share!" he said, with an amused flash of his glorious
eyes. "Such offerings are my daily lot! ... I can spare thee one
handful from the overflowing harvest of my song!"

It was impossible to be offended with such charming self-
complacency,--the naive conceit of the man was as harmless as the
delight of a fair girl who has made her first conquest, and Theos
smiling, kept the flowers. By this time the surrounding throng had
broken up into little knots and groups,--all ill-humor on the part
of the populace had completely vanished,--and large numbers were
now leaving the embankment and dispersing in different directions
to their several homes. All those who had been within hearing
distance of Sah-luma's voice appeared highly elated, as though
they had enjoyed some special privilege and pleasure, ... to be
reproved by the Laureate was evidently considered better than
being praised by any one else. Many persons pressed up to Theos,
and shaking hands with him, offered their eager excuses and
apologies for the misunderstanding that had lately taken place,
explaining with much animation both of look and gesture, that the
fact of his wearing the same style of dress as themselves had
induced them to take it for granted that he must be one of their
fellow-citizens, and therefore subject to the laws of the realm.
Theos was just beginning to feel somewhat embarrassed by the
excessive politeness and cordiality, of his recent antagonists,
when Sah-luma, again interposing, cut all explanations short.

"Come, come! cease this useless prating!" he said imperatively yet
good-naturedly--"In everything ye showed your dullard ignorance
and lack of discernment. For, concerning the matter of attire, are
not the fashions of Al-Kyris copied more or less badly in every
quarter of the habitable globe?--even as our language and
literature form the chief study and delight of all scholars and
educated gentlemen? A truce to your discussions!--Let us get hence
and home;" here he turned to Theos with a graceful salutation--
"You, my good friend, will doubtless be glad to rest and recover
from my countrymen's ungentle treatment of your person."

Thus saying, he made a slight commanding sign,--the clustering
people drew back on either side,--and he, taking Theos by the arm,
passed through their ranks, talking, laughing, and nodding
graciously here and there as he went, with the half-kindly, half-
indifferent ease of an affable monarch who occasionally bows to
some of his poorest subjects. As he trod over the flowers that lay
heaped about his path, several girls rushed impetuously forward,
struggling with each other for possession of those particularly
favored blossoms that had received the pressure of his foot, and
kissing them, they tied them in little knots, and pinned them
proudly on the bosoms of their white gowns.