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And the people of Khamazan all prayed to Sarnidac, and dreamed their dreams and hoped their hopes because their temple was not empty.
Whether the G.o.ds that are departed be greater than Sarnidac none know in Khamazan, but some believe that in their azure windows They have set lights that lost prayers swarming upwards may come to them like moths and at last find haven and light far up above the evening and the stillness where sit the G.o.ds.
But Sarnidac wondered at the strange figures, at the people of Khamazan, and at the palace of the King and the customs of the prophets, but wondered not more greatly at aught in Khamazan than he had wondered at the city which he had left. For Sarnidac, who had not known why men were unkind to him, thought that he had found at last the land for which the G.o.ds had let him hope, where men should have the custom of being kind to Sarnidac.
THE JEST OF THE G.o.dS
Once the Older G.o.ds had need of laughter. Therefore They made the soul of a king, and set in it ambitions greater than kings should have, and l.u.s.t for territories beyond the l.u.s.t of other kings, and in this soul They set strength beyond the strength of others and fierce desire for power and a strong pride. Then the G.o.ds pointed earthward and sent that soul into the fields of men to live in the body of a slave. And the slave grew, and the pride and l.u.s.t for power began to arise in his heart, and he wore shackles on his arms. Then in the Fields of Twilight the G.o.ds prepared to laugh.
But the slave went down to the sh.o.r.e of the great sea, and cast his body away and the shackles that were upon it, and strode back to the Fields of Twilight and stood up before the G.o.ds and looked Them in Their faces. This thing the G.o.ds, when They had prepared to laugh, had not foreseen. l.u.s.t for power burned strong in that King's soul, and there was all the strength and pride in it that the G.o.ds had placed therein, and he was too strong for the Older G.o.ds. He whose body had borne the lashes of men could brook no longer the dominion of the G.o.ds, and standing before Them he bade the G.o.ds to go. Up to Their lips leapt all the anger of the Older G.o.ds, being for the first time commanded, but the King's soul faced Them still, and Their anger died away and They averted Their eyes. Then Their thrones became empty, and the Fields of Twilight bare as the G.o.ds slunk far away. But the soul chose new companions.
THE DREAMS OF THE PROPHET
_I_
When the G.o.ds drave me forth to toil and a.s.sailed me with thirst and beat me down with hunger, then I prayed to the G.o.ds. When the G.o.ds smote the cities wherein I dwelt, and when Their anger scorched me and Their eyes burned, then did I praise the G.o.ds and offer sacrifice. But when I came again to my green land and found that all was gone, and the old mysterious haunts wherein I prayed as a child were gone, and when the G.o.ds tore up the dust and even the spider's web from the last remembered nook, then did I curse the G.o.ds, speaking it to Their faces, saying:--
"G.o.ds of my prayers! G.o.ds of my sacrifice! because Ye have forgotten the sacred places of my childhood, and they have therefore ceased to be, yet may I not forget. Because Ye have done this thing, Ye shall see cold altars and shall lack both my fear and praise. I shall not wince at Your lightnings, nor be awed when Ye go by."
Then looking seawards I stood and cursed the G.o.ds, and at this moment there came to me one in the garb of a poet, who said:--
"Curse not the G.o.ds."
And I said to him:
"Wherefore should I not curse Those that have stolen my sacred places in the night, and trodden down the gardens of my childhood?"
And he said "Come, and I will show thee." And I followed him to where two camels stood with their faces towards the desert. And we set out and I travelled with him for a great s.p.a.ce, he speaking never a word, and so we came at last to a waste valley hid in the desert's midst. And herein, like fallen moons, I saw vast ribs that stood up white out of the sand, higher than the hills of the desert. And here and there lay the enormous shapes of skulls like the white marble domes of palaces built for tyrannous kings a long while since by armies of driven slaves. Also there lay in the desert other bones, the bones of vast legs and arms, against which the desert, like a besieging sea, ever advanced and already had half drowned. And as I gazed in wonder at these colossal things the poet said to me:
"The G.o.ds are dead."
And I gazed long in silence, and I said:
"These fingers, that are now so dead and so very white and still, tore once the flowers in gardens of my youth."
But my companion said to me:
"I have brought thee here to ask of thee thy forgiveness of the G.o.ds, for I, being a poet, knew the G.o.ds, and would fain drive off the curses that hover above Their bones and bring Them men's forgiveness as an offering at the last, that the weeds and the ivy may cover Their bones from the sun."
And I said:
"They made Remorse with his fur grey like a rainy evening in the autumn, with many rending claws, and Pain with his hot hands and lingering feet, and Fear like a rat with two cold teeth carved each out of the ice of either pole, and Anger with the swift flight of the dragonfly in summer having burning eyes. I will not forgive these G.o.ds."
But the poet said:
"Canst thou be angry with these beautiful white bones?" And I looked long at those curved and beautiful bones that were no longer able to hurt the smallest creature in all the worlds that they had made. And I thought long of the evil that they had done, and also of the good. But when I thought of Their great hands coming red and wet from battles to make a primrose for a child to pick, then I forgave the G.o.ds.
And a gentle rain came falling out of heaven and stilled the restless sand, and a soft green moss grew suddenly and covered the bones till they looked like strange green hills, and I heard a cry and awoke and found that I had dreamed, and looking out of my house into the street I found that a flash of lightning had killed a child. Then I knew that the G.o.ds still lived.
_II_
I lay asleep in the poppy fields of the G.o.ds in the valley of Alderon, where the G.o.ds come by night to meet together in council when the moon is low. And I dreamed that this was the Secret.
Fate and Chance had played their game and ended, and all was over, all the hopes and tears, regrets, desires and sorrows, things that men wept for and unremembered things, and kingdoms and little gardens and the sea, and the worlds and the moons and the suns; and what remained was nothing, having neither colour nor sound.
Then said Fate to Chance: "Let us play our old game again." And they played it again together, using the G.o.ds as pieces, as they had played it oft before. So that those things which have been shall all be again, and under the same bank in the same land a sudden glare of singlight on the same spring day shall bring the same daffodil to bloom once more and the same child shall pick it, and not regretted shall be the billion years that fell between. And the same old faces shall be seen again, yet not bereaved of their familiar haunts. And you and I shall in a garden meet again upon an afternoon in summer when the sun stands midway between his zenith and the sea, where we met oft before. For Fate and Chance play but one game together with every move the same, and they play it oft to while eternity away.
PART II.
THE JOURNEY OF THE KING
_I_
One day the King turned to the women that danced and said to them: "Dance no more," and those that bore the wine in jewelled cups he sent away. The palace of King Ebalon was emptied of sound of song and there rose the voices of heralds crying in the streets to find the prophets of the land.
Then went the dancers, the cupbearer and the singers down into the hard streets among the houses, Pattering Leaves, Silvern Fountain and Summer Lightning, the dancers whose feet the G.o.ds had not devised for stony ways, which had only danced for princes. And with them went the singer, Soul of the South, and the sweet singer, Dream of the Sea, whose voices the G.o.ds had attuned to the ears of kings, and old Istahn the cupbearer left his life's work in the palace to tread the common ways, he that had stood at the elbows of three kings of Zarkandhu and had watched his ancient vintage feeding their valour and mirth as the waters of Tondaris feed the green plains to the south. Ever he had stood grave among their jests, but his heart warmed itself solely by the fire of the mirth of Kings. He too, with the singers and dancers, went out into the dark.
And throughout the land the heralds sought out the prophets thereof.
Then one evening as King Ebalon sat alone within his palace there were brought before him all who had repute for wisdom and who wrote the histories of the times to be. Then the King spake, saying: "The King goeth upon a journey with many horses, yet riding upon none, when the pomp of travelling shall be heard in the streets and the sound of the lute and the drum and the name of the King. And I would know what princes and what people shall greet me on the other sh.o.r.e in the land to which I travel."
Then fell a hush upon the prophets for they murmured: "All knowledge is with the King."
Then said the King: "Thou first, Samahn, High Prophet of the Temple of gold in Azinorn, answer or thou shalt write no more the history of the times to be, but shalt toil with thy hand to make record of the little happenings of the days that were, as do the common men."
Then said Samahn: "All knowledge is with the King," and when the pomp of travelling shall be heard in the streets and the slow horses whereon the King rideth not go behind lute and drum, then, as the King well knoweth, thou shalt go down to the great white house of Kings and, entering the portals where none are worthy to follow, shalt make obeisance alone to all the elder Kings of Zarkandhu, whose bones are seated upon golden thrones grasping their sceptres still. Therein thou shalt go with robes and sceptre through the marble porch, but thou shalt leave behind thee thy gleaming crown that others may wear it, and as the times go by come in to swell the number of the thirty Kings that sit in the great white house on golden thrones. There is one doorway in the great white house, and it stands wide with marble portals yawning for kings, but when it shall receive thee, and thine obeisance hath been made because of thine obligation to the thirty Kings, thou shalt find at the back of the house an unknown door through which the soul of a King may just pa.s.s, and leaving thy bones upon a golden throne thou shalt go unseen out of the great white house to tread the velvet s.p.a.ces that lie among the worlds. Then, O King, it were well to travel fast and not to tarry about the houses of men as do the souls of some who still bewail the sudden murder that sent them upon the journey before their time, and who, being yet both to go, linger in dark chambers all the night. These, setting forth to travel in the dawn and travelling all the day, see earth behind them gleaming when an evening falls, and again are loth to leave its pleasant haunts, and come back again through dark woods and up into some old loved chamber, and ever tarry between home and flight and find no rest.
Thou wilt set forth at once because the journey is far and lasts for many hours; but the hours on the velvet s.p.a.ces are the hours of the G.o.ds, and we may not say what time such an hour may be if reckoned in mortal years.
At last thou shalt come to a grey place filled with mist, with grey shapes standing before it which are altars, and on the altars rise small red flames from dying fires that scarce illumine the mist. And in the mist it is dark and cold because the fires are low. These are the altars of the people's faiths, and the flames are the wors.h.i.+p of men, and through the mist the G.o.ds of Old go groping in the dark and in the cold. There thou shalt hear a voice cry feebly: "Inyani, Inyani, lord of the thunder, where art thou, for I cannot see?" And a voice shall answer faintly in the cold: "O maker of many worlds, I am here." And in that place the G.o.ds of Old are nearly deaf for the prayers of men grow few, they are nigh blind because the fires burn low upon the altars of men's faiths and they are very cold. And all about the place of mist there lies a moaning sea which is called the Sea of Souls. And behind the place of mist are the dim shapes of mountains, and on the peak of one there glows a silvern light that s.h.i.+nes in the moaning sea; and ever as the flames on the altars die before the G.o.ds of Old the light on the mountain increases, and the light s.h.i.+nes over the mist and never through it as the G.o.ds of Old grow blind. It is said that the light on the mountain shall one day become a new G.o.d who is not of the G.o.ds of Old.
There, O King, thou shalt enter the Sea of Souls by the sh.o.r.e where the altars stand which are covered in mist. In that sea are the souls of all that ever lived on the worlds and all that ever shall live, all freed from earth and flesh. And all the souls in that sea are aware of one another but more than with hearing or sight or by taste or touch or smell, and they all speak to each other yet not with lips, with voices which need no sound. And over the sea lies music as winds o'er an ocean on earth, and there unfettered by language great thoughts set outward through the souls as on earth the currents go.