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"Sweet as the wind when it kisses the rose Is thy breath; Blest, if thine eyes had but once on me smiled, Would be death.
Give me the throat of the bulbul to sing Forth thy praise, Then wouldst thou drink the clear notes as they spring All thy days; Nard of far Oman's too mean for thy sweetness, Eagle-wings lag at thy glancing eyes' fleetness; By thy pure beauty, bright gems lack completeness, Lady, ah! fairest!"
And Hakem did not see the rustling nor hear the little sigh under the muslin and silk, for the sheik had sped round in his dance once more; again chanting in that foreign tongue some incantation, doubtless to unseen powers to aid him in his art. Then the wonder-worker halted, wiped the foam from his lips, and began new tricks; blowing a little earthen bowl from his mouth,--drawing a live rabbit from one of the smoking bowls,--and performing many marvels more, till the eunuchs showered on him all the small change they had about them, and gave him a great basket of dates and figs to carry to the khan where he said he lodged.
That night as Hakem, with clear conscience, went to bed, he observed to Wasik: "Truly, the visit of the one-eyed juggler was better than fifty elixirs for bringing back bloom to the Star of the Greeks!
Surely, if one such mountebank can cheer her thus, she shall be fed on white magic each day. Cid Iftikhar will summon hither every skilful conjurer from Damascus to Bagdad."
And Wasik answered: "By the Prophet, it is true. We are to tame _Citt_ Mary, but not to break her spirit. Give her mind its food as well as her body. She is not like our Arab maids, whose Paradise a new necklace can girdle!"
So these good servants took counsel.
That night also Richard and G.o.dfrey took their counsel with Musa the Spaniard. Safe hidden in the gloom of a stall that joined the great court of the khan, which stood on the Alexandretta road without the western gate of Aleppo, they had no fear of eavesdroppers. An irksome day it had been for the two Franks. Long since, the sun had burned them bronze as many a Moor, and what with their black dyed hair and their coa.r.s.e Oriental dress, none had questioned when Musa, who pa.s.sed himself as a travelling Berber merchant, declared them his body-servants. But G.o.dfrey had little Arabic. Richard's accent would soon betray. Common prudence forced them to sulk all day in the stall of the khan, while Musa went forth to make his discoveries. Now that he was back, their tongues flew fast.
"And have you seen her?" That was Richard's first question.
"_Bismillah_, I have; or at least two eyes bright as suns, peering from under a great cloud of veils! Recall how I made you think at Cefalu I was possessed by 'sheytans,' because of my art-magic!"
answered Musa, laughing in his noiseless fas.h.i.+on. "_Ya!_ When did old Jam[=i]l at Cordova dream, while he taught an idle student his art, that by it I would earn six dirhems and a mess of figs? I met a mountebank conjurer, bought of him his gear--wretchedly poor tricks they were,--and then found a worthy blind muezzin, in a way I will tell, to get me entrance into the very court of El Halebah. Enough; the good eunuch Hakem thought me a true _welee_, and brought out one of his cagelings to see my magic. I was bound to make sure she was truly _Citt_ Mary who was pent up in the palace before you and I thrust our necks into peril; also I knew the chance of failure was less if she were warned. So I sang an incantation--in your Provencal, and clapped on to that a verse I composed before her at Palermo. When I saw her muslins and silks all a-flutter, I sang my French again, and it was more of being ready for a visit in the night than of the efreets and jinns that aid a true magician. Therefore I say this: All is ready. To-night the Star of the Greeks says farewell to Iftikhar or--"
But Musa repeated no alternative.
"And the way of escape?" asked G.o.dfrey. "By St. Nicholas of Ghent, this is no bachelor's adventure!"
Musa laughed again.
"Verily, as says Al Koran, 'No soul knoweth what it shall suffer on the morrow, but Allah knoweth;' nevertheless, so far as human wit may run, much is prepared. Understand, Cid G.o.dfrey, that Iftikhar has sent away from El Halebah the greater part of his Ismaelian devotees to join the force of Kerbogha. About the palace lie two hundred at most; a few stand sentry upon the road from Aleppo, a few more lie in the palace; but nearly all have their barrack in the wood beside the Kuweik, some distance northward."
"St. George!" swore the Duke, "how discover all this? Can you see through walls as through Greek gla.s.s?"
Musa laughed again: "Allah grants to every man separate gifts! To me to grasp many things with few words and few eyewinks. I am not mistaken."
"It is true, did you but know him, my lord; it is true," added Richard.
Musa continued: "Round dirhems smooth many paths, even amongst the Ismaelians. With the aid of the reprobate muezzin I discovered that _Citt_ Mary is held in the westerly wing of the palace, and guarded by Hakem and a few other eunuchs. I ate salt with the chief of the watch on the Aleppo road--a generous man who will take a hint swiftly! He understands I have desire to bear away an Armenian maid belonging to Beybars, the chief steward. When I come up the way in company with two comrades, he and his men are blind. We go up to the palace; we go away; no questions. Beside the highroad to Antioch will be tethered our horses. I have bought in the Aleppo market a desert steed swift as the darts of the sun. We enter the palace with the armed hand--shame indeed if our three blades are no match for the sleepy eunuchs! Once possess her, rush for the horses--then, speed,--speed for Antioch, trusting Allah and our steeds. For as the Most High lives, there will be hot pursuit!"
"There is no better way," commented Richard, drawing up a notch in his sword-belt.
"St. Michael and St. George!"--swore G.o.dfrey again--"a n.o.ble adventure! Joy that I came from Antioch!"
"Joy or sorrow we shall know full soon," was Musa's sober reply. "We shall read a marvellous page in the book of doom this night; doubt it not!"
"And we set forth--?" continued Richard.
"At once,--the night grows dark for the eye of an owl," answered the Spaniard. "Darkness is kind; we must not waste it."
"Lead, then," commanded G.o.dfrey. "The horses are ready; there is food in the saddle-bags."
"Follow,--and Allah be our guide!" and the Andalusian took his own steed by the bridle.
There was darkness and silence in the court of the great khan. The arrow-swift horses of a Persian trader slept in one stall; a tall dromedary shook his tether in another. Richard brushed upon a s.h.a.ggy donkey; trod upon a mongrel dog, that started with a sullen howl. From one remote stall came a ray of torch-light, and the chatter of merchants discussing the profits of the last Oman caravan. A single watchman stared at them when they led their beasts through the wide gate. The three were under the stars. Musa took the bridle of the horse just bought, and the others followed him. Richard trod on as in a dream; twice he pa.s.sed his hand before his eyes as if to brush away the blackness that was unbroken save for the star mist.
"To-night! To-night!" he was repeating.
"What, to-night?" asked G.o.dfrey.
"To-night I may touch the hair of Mary Kurkuas. Is not that chance worth the hazard of death? But you?"
"I serve Christ best to-night when I serve one so loved by Him as the Lady of St. Julien. Let us hasten."
They said little more. The night was dark indeed, but Musa seemed bat-eyed. He led across the Kuweik, through the orchards--dim and still, until at a tamarisk bush he halted. There they left the horses.
Richard made sure that the lady's saddle on the fourth horse was strapped fast. Musa spoke not a word, but led away swiftly. They were entering the wood. Richard was treading at an eager pace, with a swelling heart, when suddenly he heard a sound behind him,--looked back,--and behold, on all sides, as if called from earth by enchantment, were the dim figures of men! And he could see, even in the darkness, that the dress of each was white.
CHAPTER x.x.xV
HOW RICHARD HEARD A SONG
Now what befell came so swiftly that in after days Richard could never tell it all. Sure it is, that had Trenchefer and G.o.dfrey's sword and Musa's cimeter left sheath, there had been another tale. For in the twinkling that Richard cast a backward glance, a noose whistled through the air and closed about the Norman's shoulders, locking his arms helpless. And with the whistling rope came a rush of feet and many hands seizing him. One struggle--he could scarce gather wits to resist; he was helpless as a birdling before the snake. At the same instant came the crash and gasp of two desperate conflicts more--G.o.dfrey and Musa likewise seized. As Richard grasped it, the Spaniard succ.u.mbed as readily as he. But the great Duke was not lightly taken. Draw he could not, but his mighty hand tore clear of the rope and dashed more than one a.s.sailant down before, with ten upon him, he was mastered. All was done in less time than the telling.
Almost before Longsword's soul cried "danger," a torch was flas.h.i.+ng in his eyes, and a dozen dark Syrian faces pressing close. The torch was held high, and flashed before him twice. Blinded by the glare, he saw nothing beyond the ring of faces. From the dark shadow came a voice--a voice he had heard before: "_Bismillah!_ The Frank, Richard Longsword, at last!"
The Norman did not cry out. Native sense told him that help there was none, and all the teaching of the stern school wherein he was bred had taught him to bear in silence. All stood while Richard saw the torch carried to the other knots of white-robed men. Then again the voice: "This is the Spaniard, Cid Musa, the son of Abdallah." And now a great shout of triumph: "Praised be Allah, destroyer of His enemies! We take the Emir G.o.dfrey, chief of the Frankish unbelievers!"
Longsword had no need to be told that this was Zeyneb's voice. He was about to break forth with defiance and curses upon the dwarf, when in the torchlight he saw a form taller than the others, the plumes of a haughty helmet, the flash of gilded steel. The captors gave way to right and left as the chieftain--so he clearly was--advanced until face to face with Richard.
"Do you know me? I am the one-time commander of Count Roger's guard, the Egyptian Iftikhar Eddauleh."
The grand prior had spoken naturally, without bravado.
And Richard answered in like vein:--
"I claimed the honor of your friends.h.i.+p once, my Lord Iftikhar. Fate has kept us long asunder."
Iftikhar's plumes nodded.
"And brings us together at last. Doom leads to El Halebah you and the valorous Cid Musa and this n.o.ble emir, who is strange to me. The night advances; let us go."
Before his captive could reply, the Egyptian had faded in the dark. An Ismaelian laid his hand on Richard's sword-belt to disarm him.
Trenchefer clanked. Iftikhar spoke out of the gloom:--
"Leave the sword, Harun. A Frank cavalier loves better to part with life than with weapon. _Wallah!_ Let them keep their blades and feel them at their sides; but knot fast,--their strength is as seven lions!"
They pa.s.sed a second cord around Richard's arms, drawing back and pinioning them tight above the elbows. A heavy hand on either shoulder urged him forward. The Norman steeled his muscles, made one effort as never before to snap the bands. Useless; even his giant strength failed. Unresisting he was led blindly on through the gloom, the captors treading rapidly. They were soon in a grove of trees, where the matted leaf.a.ge cut off the least ray of light. The torch, which only flared when shaken, sank to a glow dim as a firefly. Underfoot Richard could feel dry twigs crack, and he smelt the fresh earthy odor of fern brakes and bird-loved thickets. The only sounds were the footfalls and the chirp, chirp of the crickets. Then a faint gloaming shone where the trees arched and opened: they were again beneath a clear sky. The Norman saw the silver band of a stream creeping to the Kuweik--barely flas.h.i.+ng under the starlight, for moon there was none.
His guards led forward; under their tread a floating bridge rang hollow, and the water gurgled up around the casks.
For one moment Richard pondered whether he could leap into the water, and drift down-stream with his arms pinioned. Folly--had he not his mail-s.h.i.+rt, and Trenchefer still at his side? A stone would float lighter! They had pa.s.sed the bridge; again were in the woods. Some uncanny night bird was flapping from bough to bough; he could hear the whir of heavy wings, hoa.r.s.e cries, blending with the song of the crickets. Did not ravens croak when men drew nigh their dooms? Was it river mist only that was hanging in cold beads upon his brow? Still the white-robed company led onward. Not a word spoken--when might this journey end? Richard listened to the beating of his own heart--merciful saints, why so loudly? Behind he knew were led G.o.dfrey and Musa; they two walking to death, and for his cause! The Mother of Mercies knew it had been by none of his willing. Out of the dark was creeping that vision dreaded so often,--repelled so often,--which he had vainly hoped had faded away forever. Gilbert de Valmont slain beside the altar! Richard looked up at the stars s.h.i.+mmering between the leaves. "Ere these stars fade in sunlight"--spoke a voice (from within or without, what matter?)--"you, Richard de St. Julien, will be accounting to G.o.d for the soul of that guiltless boy." And though Longsword thought of the Pope's pledge of absolution, of all the infidels he had himself slain in the name of Christ, of all his sufferings in the chastis.e.m.e.nt at Dorylaeum,--all merit seemed turned to sin, and the word of Urban weak to unlock the mercy of G.o.d in His just anger. "_Mea culpa! mea culpa! mea maxima culpa!_" Other prayers came not, nor did his heart find room for curses against Iftikhar or grief for Mary. He thought of her; but truth to tell he was too numbed to dwell on her agony, on the cert.i.tude of her lifelong captivity. And still the white-robed company led him onward, onward.