Ayesha, the Return of She by H. Rider Haggard (red scrolls of magic .txt) 📗

and the last, there went up such a shout as men have seldom heard.

“The Goddess!” that shout thundered. “Worship the Goddess!”

Then she turned her horse’s head again, and they followed on through the long straight street of the burning city, up to the palace on its crest.

As the sun set we sped beneath its gateway. Silence in the courtyard, silence everywhere, save for the distant roar of fire and the scared howlings of the death-hounds in their kennel.

Ayesha sprang from her horse, and waving back all save Oros and myself, swept through the open doors into the halls beyond.

They were empty, every one—all were fled or dead. Yet she never paused or doubted, but so swiftly that we scarce could follow her, flitted up the wide stone stair that led to the topmost tower. Up, still up, until we reached the chamber where had dwelt Simbri the Shaman, that same chamber whence he was wont to watch his stars, in which Atene had threatened us with death.

Its door was shut and barred; still, at Ayesha’s coming, yes, before the mere breath of her presence, the iron bolts snapped like twigs, the locks flew back, and inward burst that massive portal.

Now we were within the lamp-lit chamber, and this is what we saw. Seated in a chair, pale-faced, bound, yet proud and defiant-looking, was Leo. Over him, a dagger in his withered hand—yes, about to strike, in the very act—stood the old Shaman, and on the floor hard by, gazing upward with wide-set eyes, dead and still majestic in her death, lay Atene, Khania of Kaloon.

Ayesha waved her arm and the knife fell from Simbri’s hand, clattering on the marble, while in an instant he who had held it was smitten to stillness and became like a man turned to stone.

She stooped, lifted the dagger, and with a swift stroke severed Leo’s bonds; then, as though overcome at last, sank on to a bench in silence. Leo rose, looking about him bewildered, and said in the strained voice of one who is weak with much suffering—“But just in time, Ayesha. Another second, and that murderous dog”—and he pointed to the Shaman—“well, it was in time. But how went the battle, and how camest thou here through that awful hurricane? And, oh, Horace, thank heaven they did not kill you after all!”

“The battle went ill for some,” Ayesha answered, “and I came not through the hurricane, but on its wings. Tell me now, what has befallen thee since we parted?”

“Trapped, overpowered, bound, brought here, told that I must write to thee and stop thy advance, or die—refused, of course, and then——” and he glanced at the dead body on the floor.

“And then?” repeated Ayesha.

“Then that fearful tempest, which seemed to drive me mad. Oh! if thou couldst have heard the wind howling round these battlements, tearing off their stones as though they were dry leaves; if thou hadst seen the lightnings falling thick and fast as rain——”

“They were my messengers. I sent them to save thee,” said Ayesha simply.

Leo stared at her, making no comment, but after a pause, as though he were thinking the matter over, he went on—“Atene said as much, but I did not believe her. I thought the end of the world had come, that was all. Well, she returned just now more mad even than I was, and told me that her people were destroyed and that she could not fight against the strength of hell, but that she could send me thither, and took a knife to kill me.

“I said, ‘Kill on,’ for I knew that wherever I went thou wouldst follow, and I was sick with the loss of blood from some hurt I had in that struggle, and weary of it all. So I shut my eyes waiting for the stroke, but instead I felt her lips pressed upon my forehead, and heard her say—“‘Nay, I will not do it. Fare thee well; fulfil thou thine own destiny, as I fulfil mine. For this cast the dice have fallen against me; elsewhere it may be otherwise. I go to load them if I may.’

“I opened my eyes and looked. There Atene stood, a glass in her hand—see, it lies beside her.

“‘Defeated, yet I win,’ she cried, ‘for I do but pass before thee to prepare the path that thou shalt tread, and to make ready thy place in the Under-world. Till we meet again I pledge thee, for I am destroyed. Ayesha’s horsemen are in my streets, and, clothed in lightnings at their head, rides Ayesha’s avenging self.’

“So she drank, and fell dead—but now. Look, her breast still quivers. Afterwards, that old man would have murdered me, for, being roped, I could not resist him, but the door burst in and thou camest. Spare him, he is of her blood, and he loved her.”

Then Leo sank back into the chair where we had discovered him bound, and seemed to fall into a kind of torpor, for of a sudden he grew to look like an old man.

“Thou art sick,” said Ayesha anxiously. “Oros, thy medicine, the draught I bade thee bring! Be swift, I say.”

The priest bowed, and from some pocket in his ample robe produced a phial which he opened and gave to Leo, saying—“Drink, my lord; this stuff will give thee back thy health, for it is strong.”

“The stronger the better,” answered Leo, rousing himself, and with something like his old, cheerful laugh. “I am thirsty who have touched nothing since last night, and have fought hard and been carried far, yes—and lived through that hellish storm.”

Then he took the draught and emptied it. There must have been virtue in that potion; at least, the change which it produced in him was wonderful. Within a minute his eyes grew bright again, and the colour returned into his cheeks.

“Thy medicines are very good, as I have learned of old,” he said to Ayesha; “but the best of all of them is to see thee safe and victorious before me, and to know that I, who looked for death, yet live to greet thee, my beloved. There is food,” and he pointed to a board upon which were meats, “say, may I eat of them, for I starve?”

“Aye,” she answered softly, “eat, and, my Holly, eat thou also.”

So we fell to, yes, we fell to and ate even in the presence of that dead woman who looked so royal in her death; of the old magician who stood there powerless, like a man petrified, and of Ayesha, the wondrous being that could destroy an army with the fearful weapons which were servant to her will.

Only Oros ate nothing, but remained where he was, smiling at us benignantly, nor did Ayesha touch any food.