X
THE OATH OF THE WANDERER
That night the Wanderer saw not Meriamun, but on the morrow she senta messenger to him, bidding him to her feast that night. He had littleheart to go, but a Queen's courtesy is a command, and he went atsundown. Rei also went to the feast, and as he went, meeting theWanderer in the ante-chamber, he whispered to him that all things weremade ready, that a good ship waited him in the harbour, the very shipthat he had captured from the Sidonians, and that he, Rei, would be withhim by the pylon gate of the temple one hour before midnight.
Presently, as he whispered, the doors were flung wide and Meriamun theQueen passed in, followed by eunuchs and waiting-women. She was royallyarrayed, her face was pale and cold, but her great eyes glowed in it.Low the Wanderer bowed before her. She bent her head in answer, thengave him her hand, and he led her to the feast. They sat there side byside, but the Queen spoke little, and that little of Pharaoh and thehost of the Apura, from whom no tidings came.
When at length the feast was done, Meriamun bade the Wanderer to herprivate chamber, and thither he went for awhile, though sorely againsthis will. But Rei came not in with them, and thus he was left alone withthe Queen, for she dismissed the waiting ladies.
When they had gone there was silence for a space, but ever the Wandererfelt the eyes of Meriamun watching him as though they would read hisheart.
"I am weary," she said, at length. "Tell me of the wanderings, Odysseusof Ithaca--nay, tell me of the siege of Ilios and of the sinful Helen,who brought all these woes about. Ay, and tell me how thou didst creepfrom the leaguers of the Achaeans, and, wrapped in a beggar's weeds, seekspeech of this evil Helen, now justly slain of the angry Gods."
"Justly slain is she indeed," answered the crafty Wanderer. "An illthing is it, truly, that the lives of so many heroes should be lostbecause of the beauty of a faithless woman. I had it in my own heart toslay her when I spoke with her in Troy town, but the Gods held my hand."
"Was it so, indeed?" said the Queen, smiling darkly. "Doubtless if sheyet lived, and thou sawest her, thou wouldst slay her. Is it not so,Odysseus?"
"She lives no more, O Queen!" he answered.
"Nay, she lives no more, Odysseus. Now tell me; yesterday thou wentestup to the Temple of the Hathor; tell me what thou didst see in thetemple."
"I saw a fair woman, or, perchance, an immortal Goddess, stand upon thepylon brow, and as she stood and sang those who looked were bereft ofreason. And thereafter some tried to pass the ghosts who guarded thewoman, and were slain of invisible swords. It was a strange sight tosee."
"A strange sight, surely. But thou didst not lose thy craft, Odysseus,nor try to break through the ghosts?"
"Nay, Meriamun. In my youth I looked upon the beauty of Argive Helen,who was fairer than she who stood upon the pylon tower. None who havelooked upon the Helen would seek to win the Hathor."
"But, perchance, those who have looked upon the Hathor may seek to winthe Helen," she answered slowly, and he knew not what to say, for hefelt the power of her magic on him.
So for awhile they spoke, and Meriamun, knowing all, wondered much atthe guile of the Wanderer, but she showed no wonder in her face. Atlength he rose and, bowing before her, said that he must visit the guardthat watched the Palace gates. She looked upon him strangely and badehim go. Then he went, and right glad he was thus to be free of her.
But when the curtains had swung behind him, Meriamun the Queen sprang toher feet, and a dreadful light of daring burned in her eyes. She clappedher hands, and bade those who came to her seek their rest, as she wouldalso, for she was weary and needed none to wait upon her. So the womenwent, leaving her alone, and she passed into her sleeping chamber.
"Now must the bride deck herself for the bridal," she said, andstraightway, pausing not, drew forth the Ancient Evil from itshiding-place and warmed it on her breast, breathing the breath of lifeinto its nostrils. Now, as before, it grew and wound itself about her,and whispered in her ear, bidding her clothe herself in bridal whiteand clasp the Evil around her; then think upon the beauty she had seengather on the face of dead Hataska in the Temple of Osiris, and on theface of the Bai, and the face of the Ka. She did its command, fearingnothing, for her heart was alight with love, and torn with jealous hate,and little did she reck of the sorrows which her sin should bring forth.So she bathed herself in perfumes, shook out her shining hair, and cladherself in white attire. Then she looked upon her beauty in the mirrorof silver, and cried in the bitterness of her heart to the Evil that laybeside her like a snake asleep.
"Ah, am I not fair enow to win him whom I love? Say, thou Evil, must Iindeed steal the beauty of another to win him whom I love?"
"This must thou do," said the Evil, "or lose him in Helen's arms. Forthough thou art fair, yet is she Beauty's self, and her gentlenesshe loves, and not thy pride. Choose, choose swiftly for presently theWanderer goes forth to win the Golden Helen."
Then she doubted no more, but lifting the shining Evil, held it to her.With a dreadful laugh it twined itself about her, and lo! it shrank tothe shape of a girdling, double-headed snake of gold, with eyes of rubyflame. And as it shrank Meriamun the Queen thought on the beauty she hadseen upon the face of the dead Hataska, on the face of the Bai, and theface of the Ka, and all the while she watched her beauty in the mirror.And as she watched, behold, her face grew as the face of death, ashenand hollow, then slowly burned into life again--but all her lovelinesswas changed. Changed were her dark locks to locks of gold, changed wereher deep eyes to eyes of blue, changed was the glory of her pride to thesweetness of the Helen's smile. Fairest among women had been her form,now it was fairer yet, and now--now she was Beauty's self, and like toswoon at the dream of her own loveliness.
"So, ah, so must the Hathor seem," she said, and lo! her voice rangstrangely in her ears. For the voice, too, was changed, it was more softthan the whispering of wind-stirred reeds; it was more sweet than themurmuring of bees at noon.
Now she must go forth, and fearful at her own loveliness and heavy withher sin, yet glad with a strange joy, she passes from her chamber andglides like a starbeam through the still halls of her Palace. The whitelight of the moon creeps into them and falls upon the faces of thedreadful Gods, on the awful smile of sphinxes, and the pictures of herforefathers, kings and queens who long were dead. And as she goes sheseems to hear them whisper each to each of the dreadful sin that shehas sinned, and of the sorrow that shall be. But she does not heed, andnever stays her foot. For her heart is alight as with a flame, and shewill win the Wanderer to her arms--the Wanderer sought through manylives, found after many deaths.