The Fallen Star, or, the History of a False Religion - LightNovelsOnl.com
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"Strike not, son of kings! the stars forbear their own: the maiden thou shalt not slay; yet shalt thou reign over the race of Oestrich; and thou shall give Orna as a bride to the favorite of the stars. Arise, and go thy way!"
The voice ceased: the terror of Orna had overpowered for a time the springs of life; and Siror bore her home through the wood in his strong arms.
"Alas!" said Morven, when, at the next day, he again met the aspiring prince; "alas! the stars have ordained me a lot which my heart desires not; for I, lonely of life, and crippled of shape, am insensible to the fires of love; and ever, as thou and thy tribe know, I have shunned the eyes of women, for the maidens laughed at my halting step and my sullen features; and so in my youth I learned betimes to banish all thoughts of love. But since they told me (as they declared to _thee_), that only through that marriage, thou, O beloved prince! canst obtain thy fatter's plumed crown, I yield me to their will."
"But," said the prince, "not until I am king can I give thee my sister in marriage; for thou knowest that my sire would smite me to the dust, if I asked him to give the flower of our race to the son of the herdsman Osslah."
"Thou speakest the words of truth. Go home and fear not: but, when thou art king, the sacrifice must be made, and Orna mine. Alas! how can I dare to lift my eyes to her! But so ordain the dread kings of the night!--Who shall gainsay their word?"
"The day that sees me king, sees Orna thine," answered the prince.
Morven walked forth, as was his wont, alone; and he said to himself, "the king is old, yet may he live long between me and mine hope!" and he began to cast in his mind how he might shorten the time.
Thus absorbed, he wandered on so unheedingly, that night advanced, and he had lost his path among the thick woods, and knew not how to regain his home; so he lay down quietly beneath a tree, and rested till day dawned.
Then hunger came upon him and he searched among the bushes for such simple roots as those with which, for he was ever careless of food, he was used to appease the cravings of nature.
He found, among other more familiar herbs and roots, a red berry of a sweetish taste, which he had never observed before. He ate of it sparingly, and had not proceeded far in the wood before he found his eyes swim, and a deadly sickness come over him. For several hours he lay convulsed on the ground expecting death; but the gaunt spareness of his frame, and his unvarying abstinence, prevailed over the poison, and he recovered slowly, and after great anguish: but he went with feeble steps back to the spot where the berries grew, and, plucking several, hid them in his bosom, and by nightfall regained the city.
The next day he went forth among his father's herds, and seizing a lamb, forced some of the berries into its stomach, and the lamb, escaping, ran away, and fell down dead. Then Morven took some more of the berries and boiled them down, and mixed the juice with wine, and he gave the wine in secret to one of his father's servants, and the servant died.
Then Morven sought the king, and coming into his presence alone, he said unto him, "How fares my lord?"
The king sat on a couch, made of the skins of wolves, and his eye was gla.s.sy and dim; but vast were his aged limbs and huge was his stature, and he had been taller by a head than the children of men, and none living could bend the bow he had bent in youth. Grey, gaunt and worn, as some mighty bones that are dug at times from the bosom of the earth--a relic of the strength of old.
And the king said, faintly, and with a ghastly laugh:
"The men of my years fare ill. What avails my strength? Better had I been born a cripple like thee, so should I have had nothing to lament in growing old."
The red flash pa.s.sed over Morven's brow; but he bent humbly--
"O king, what if I could give thee back thy youth? What if I could restore to thee the vigor which distinguished thee above the sons of men, when the warriors of Alrich fell like gra.s.s before thy sword?"
Then the king uplifted his dull eyes, and he said:
"What meanest thou, son of Osslah? Surely I hear much of thy great wisdom, and how thou speakest nightly with the stars. Can the G.o.ds of the night give unto thee the secret to make the old young?"
"Tempt them not by doubt," said Morven, reverently. "All things are possible to the rulers of the dark hour; and, lo! the star that loves thy servant spake to him at the dead of night, and said, 'Arise, and go unto the king; and tell him that the stars honor the tribe of Oestrich, and remember how the king bent his bow against the Sons of Alrich; wherefore, look thou under the stone that lies to the right of thy dwelling--even beside the pine-tree, and thou shalt see a vessel of clay, and in the vessel thou wilt find a sweet liquid, that shall make the king thy master forget his age forever.'
"Therefore, my lord, when the morning rose I went forth, and looked under the stone, and behold the vessel of clay; and I have brought it hither to my lord, the king."
"Quick--slave--quick! that I may drink and regain my youth!"
"Nay, listen, O king! farther said the star to me:
"'It is only at night, when the stars have power, that this their gift will avail; wherefore, the king must wait till the hush of the midnight, when the moon is high, and then may he mingle the liquid with his wine.
"'And he must reveal to none that he hath received the gift from the hand of the servant of the stars. For THEY do their work in secret, and when men sleep; therefore they love not the babble of mouths, and he who reveals their benefits shall surely die.'"
"Fear not," said the king, grasping the vessel; "none shall know: and, behold, I will rise on the morrow; and my two sons--wrangling for my crown--verily, I shall be younger than they!"
Then the king laughed loud; and he scarcely thanked the servant of the stars, neither did he promise him reward: for the kings in those days had little thought--save for themselves.
And Morven said to him, "Shall I not attend my lord? for without me, perchance, the drug might fail of its effect."
"Aye," said the king, "rest here."
"Nay," replied Morven; "thy servants will marvel and talk much, if they see the son of Osslah sojourning in thy palace. So would the displeasure of the G.o.ds of night perchance be incurred. Suffer that the lesser door of the palace be unbarred, so that at the night hour, when the moon is midway in the heavens, I may steal unseen into thy chamber, and mix the liquid with thy wine."
"So be it," said the king. "Thou art wise though thy limbs are crooked and curt; and the stars might have chosen a taller man."
Then the king laughed again; and Morven laughed too, but there was danger in the mirth of the son of Osslah.
The night had began to wane, and the inhabitants of Oestrich were buried in deep sleep, when, hark! a sharp voice was heard crying out in the streets, "Woe, woe! Awake ye sons of Oestrich--woe!"
Then forth, wild--haggard--alarmed--spear in hand, rushed the giant sons of the rugged tribe, and they saw a man on a height in the middle of the city, shrieking, "Woe!" and it was Morven, the son of Osslah!
And he said unto them, as they gathered round him, "Men and warriors, tremble as ye hear.
"The star of the west hath spoken to me and thus saith the star:
"'Evil shall fall upon the kingly house of Oestrich--yea, ere the morning dawns; wherefore, go thou mourning into the streets, and wake the inhabitants to woe!'
"So I rose and did the bidding of the star."
And while Morven was yet speaking, a servant of the king's house ran up to the crowd, crying loudly:
"The king is dead!"
So they went into the palace and found the king stark upon his couch, and his huge limbs all cramped and crippled by the pangs of death, and his hands clenched as if in menace of a foe--the foe of all living fles.h.!.+
Then fear came on the gazers, and they looked on Morven with a deeper awe than the boldest warrior would have called forth: and they bore him back to the council-hall of the wise men, wailing and clas.h.i.+ng their arms in woe, and shouting, ever and anon:
"_Honor to Morven, the prophet!_"
And that was the first time the word PROPHET was ever used in those countries.
At noon, on the third day from the king's death, Siror sought Morven, and he said:
"Lo, my father is no more, and the people meet this evening at sunset to elect his successor, and the warriors and the young men will surely choose my brother, for he is more known in war. Fail me not, therefore."
"Peace, boy!" said Morven, sternly; "nor dare to question the truth of the G.o.ds of night."
For Morven now began to presume on his power among the people, and to speak as rulers speak, even to the sons of kings.
And the voice silenced the fiery Siror, nor dared he to reply.