The Eye of Istar: A Romance of the Land of No Return. Le Queux William
hast thou been concealed here, in the harem of thine enemy,” she answered, in low, placid tones, looking seriously at me. Then, noticing the uneasy glance I cast in the direction of the dark alcove beyond, she added quickly, “Let not apprehension fall upon thee. To this my apartment none dares enter unbidden, therefore thou art safe, even in the midst of those whom thou didst seek to destroy.”
“Chastise me not with a scourge of words, O Daughter of the Sultan,” I said, apologetically. “Thy servant Zafar-Ben-A’Ziz, Arab of the Chawi, horseman of the Khalifa, armeth not himself against those who give him succour, nor seeketh he the overthrow of the city of thy father.”
Leaning gracefully, with her back against the twisted column of polished marble, inlaid with gold, supporting the arched roof, she clasped her hands behind her handsome head and gazed at me. Then, half reproachfully she said, —
“Whoso doth that which is right, doth it to the advantage of his own soul; and whoso doth evil, doth it against the same: hereafter shall we return unto Allah. Thou earnest with scouts to reconnoitre – perchance to enter this our city singly or in company – so that on the advance of the ruthless legions of thy Sultan thou mightest, by treachery, admit them within our walls. But Allah, who hath placed the twelve signs in the heavens, is merciful and knoweth the hearts of men. Thine encampment was discovered and destroyed.”
“How was my life spared?” I asked.
“I was present when thou wert forced to bite the dust,” she explained. “I had journeyed unto Katsena, where I had lingered one moon, and was returning hither to Kano when my Tuareg guards, warned of thine approach, watched thee by stealth, and in the darkness fell upon thee at a moment when thou wert unprepared. On the rising of the sun I searched the spot, and found that thou alone still lived. Secretly thou wert attired in the haick belonging to one of my handmaidens, and by my orders conveyed hither in a jakfi on one of mine own camels. Still dressed as a female slave thou wert able to pass the guards of the outer courts and of the harem, to rest and recover on mine own divan.”
“Then to thee, O Azala, Princess of Sokoto, whose beauty is peerless, I owe my life,” I answered, fervently. “Truly hast thou snatched me back from the grave, even though I sought to assist in the sacking of this, the palace of thy father, and in the holding of thy people in bondage. Tell me, why shouldst thou interest thyself in my well-being?”
Hesitating, apparently confused at my question, Azala moved uneasily, toying with the silken fringe of her broad girdle.
“Is it not written that we should bear no malice?” she answered, after a pause. “Al-Sijil registereth our deeds.”
“Wisdom falleth from thy lips,” I said, smiling. “But hadst thou no motive in bringing me into this thine apartment, even at the imminent risk of detection and disgrace?”
“I am not compelled to answer thy question,” she replied, with a forced laugh. “Reason underlyeth most of our actions.”
“And wilt thou not explain thy reason?”
“No. At present my lips must remain sealed,” she answered calmly, her bejewelled breast heaving and falling in a long-drawn sigh. “Peradventure thou mayest learn my motive some day; then will thine eyes open in astonishment, for thou wilt gain knowledge of things undreamed-of and behold marvels amazing.”
“Thou speakest in enigmas. When may these secrets be revealed unto me? Of what character are they?”
“Seek not to unloosen my tongue’s strings, O mine enemy – ”
“Nay, not enemy, friend, grateful and ever devoted,” I interrupted.
“Then, if thou art my friend seek not to discover mine innermost thoughts,” she said, earnestly. “As the wicked are in Sajin, beneath the seventh heaven, where dwelleth Eblis and his host, so assuredly will those who seek to discover the hidden marvels without mine aid or sanction taste of the bitter fruit of Al-Zakkum.”
“But if thou givest unto me a pledge that thou wilt render explanation, I will be content,” I said.
“Not only will I, when the time is ripe, explain the strange secret unto thee, but, likewise, shall I seek thine assistance in elucidating a strange and incomprehensible mystery.”
“I am thine to command,” I answered gallantly, taking her slim, white hand in mine. “When thou desireth me to serve thee, O Azala, thou wilt find me ever ready, for to thee I owe my life; my future is in thine hands.”
“To seek the key of the hidden mystery, to vanquish the angel Malec who hath charge of the gates of hell, will require a stout heart and lion’s courage,” she said slowly, fixing her clear, wonderful eyes upon mine, and allowing her soft bejewelled hand to linger for a second within my grasp.
“When the day dawneth thou wilt not find me wanting in defiance of danger, for, of a verity, I fear nothing with the beauteous daughter of the Sultan ’Othman as my pole-star.”
For a second a blush suffused her pale cheeks.
“As thou trusteth me, so also will I trust thee,” she said, in deep earnestness. “Even though my position is exalted as Princess of Sokoto; even though I am surrounded by all that is beautiful, with many slaves to do my bidding, yet unhappiness eateth like a canker-worm into my heart.”
“Wherefore art thou unhappy?” I asked, sympathetically.
“Ah! the reason none may know,” she sighed. “Until I call upon thee to render thine aid in seeking to discover things that are forbidden, thou must necessarily remain in the outer darkness of ignorance. Here, in the palace of my father, thou must remain in hiding until the time for action cometh. Then will I show thee that which will fascinate and astound thee.”
“Thy words of mystery arouse curiosity within me,” I said. “Canst thou not reveal to me anything now?”
“Nothing. Save to tell thee that thou canst, if thou wilt, shield me from a fate worse than death. A disaster, horrible and complete, threateneth to overwhelm me, and thou alone canst prevent it.”
“How?”
“By patience, silence, and passive obedience to my commands.”
“I am thine,” I said, as, entranced by her marvellous grace and beauty, my arm slowly encircled her slim waist, begirt with dull gold and flashing jewels. I strove to draw her to me, but without any violence of movement, and with the most perfect dignity, she disengaged herself from my embrace. Yet I held her to me and breathed into her ear words of devotion. Then, as her beautiful head at last turned slowly toward me, and her eyes, looking into mine, spoke mutely of reciprocated affection, our lips met in a hot, passionate caress.
I was trembling upon the pinnacle of Al-Araf, that partition that divides pleasure from misery, love from hatred, hell from paradise. She was the proud and handsome daughter of the Sultan ’Othman, the woman, the fame of whose exquisite beauty had long ago reached us even in far-off Omdurman; I, a mere Dervish, without home or property, one of a band paid by the all-powerful Khalifa to plunder, murder and destroy.
What words of tenderness I uttered I scarcely remember. The sensuous fragrance, rising from the perfuming-pan, seemed to induce a sweet, dreamy half-consciousness, but for the first time I experienced the passion of love. I loved her with all the strength of my being, and the only words that impressed themselves upon me in those moments of mad infatuation were those uttered by the woman I adored, —
“Yea, O Zafar, I will place my trust in thee.” Resting in my embrace, her bright eyes betrayed her perfect happiness, and as I softly stroked her silky hair and implanted a kiss upon her white, sequin-covered brow she clung to me with her long bare arms clasped tightly around my neck in an ecstasy of joy.
“Never will I forsake thee,” I answered, fondly. “With the faithfulness and obedience of a slave will I carry out thy commands, for thou art my queen and I thy devoted bondman.”
Tears dimmed her bright, clear eyes; tears of joy she vainly strove to suppress.
“Truly to-day is the dawn of my life’s happiness,” she said, in a low tone, full of emotion.