H Rider Haggard - Moon of Israel

by Moon Of Israel [lit]

  "Perchance she speaks truth, Brother," said the Prince, "and if we took her home we might earn no small reward from Jabez the Levite. But first tell me, Maiden, what was that prayer which you made to the moon, that Hathor should help your heart?"

  "Sir," she answered, "only the idolatrous Egyptians pray to Hathor, the Lady of Love."

  "I thought that all the world prayed to the Lady of Love, Maiden. But what of the prayer? Is there some man whom you desire?"

  "None," she answered angrily.

  "Then why does your heart need so much help that you ask it of the air? Is there perchance someone whom you do /not/ desire?"

  She hung her head and made no answer.

  "Come, Brother," said the Prince, "this lady is weary of us, and I think that if she were a true woman she would answer our questions more readily. Let us go and leave her. As she cannot walk we can take her later if we wish."

  "Sirs," she said, "I am glad that you are going, since the hyenas will be safer company than two men who can threaten to sell a helpless woman into slavery. Yet as we part to meet no more I will answer your question. In the prayer to which you were not ashamed to listen I did not pray for any lover, I prayed to be rid of one."

  "Now, Ana," said the Prince bursting into laughter and throwing back his dark cloak, "do you discover the name of that unhappy man of whom the lady Merapi wishes to be rid, for I dare not."

  She gazed into his face and uttered a little cry.

  "Ah!" she said, "I thought I knew the voice again when once you forget your part. Prince Seti, does your Highness think that this was a kind jest to practise upon one alone and in fear?"

  "Lady Merapi," he answered smiling, "be not wroth, for at least it was a good one and you have told us nothing that we did not know. You may remember that at Tanis you said that you were affianced and there was that in your voice----. Suffer me now to tend this wound of yours."

  Then he knelt down, tore a strip from his ceremonial robe of fine linen, and began to bind up her foot, not unskilfully, being a man full of strange and unexpected knowledge. As he worked at the task, watching them, I saw their eyes meet, saw too that rich flood of colour creep once more to Merapi's brow. Then I began to think it unseemly that the Prince of Egypt should play the leech to a woman's hurts, and to wonder why he had not left that humble task to me.

  Presently the bandaging was done and made fast with a royal scarabæus mounted on a pin of gold, which the Prince wore in his garments. On it was cut the uræus crown and beneath it were the signs which read "Lord of the Lower and the Upper Land," being Pharaoh's style and title.

  "See now, Lady," he said, "you have Egypt beneath your foot," and when she asked him what he meant, he read her the writing upon the jewel, whereat for the third time she coloured to the eyes. Then he lifted her up, instructing her to rest her weight upon his shoulder, saying he feared lest the scarab, which he valued, should be broken.

  Thus we started, I bearing the bundle of straw behind as he bade me, since, he said, having been gathered with such toil, it must not be lost. On reaching the chariot, where we found the guide gone and the driver asleep, he sat her in it upon his cloak, and wrapped her in mine which he borrowed, saying I should not need it who must carry the straw. Then he mounted also and they drove away at a foot's pace. As I walked after the chariot with the straw that fell about my ears, I heard nothing of their further talk, if indeed they talked at all which, the driver being present, perhaps they did not. Nor in truth did I listen who was engaged in thought as to the hard lot of these poor Hebrews, who must collect this dirty stuff and bear it so far, made heavy as it was by the clay that clung about the roots.

  Even now, as it chanced, we did not reach Goshen without further trouble. Just as we had crossed the bridge over the canal I, toiling behind, saw in the clear moonlight a young man running towards us. He was a Hebrew, tall, well-made and very handsome in his fashion. His eyes were dark and fierce, his nose was hooked, his teeth where regular and white, and his long, black hair hung down in a mass upon his shoulders. He held a wooden staff in his hand and a naked knife was girded about his middle. Seeing the chariot he halted and peered at it, then asked in Hebrew if those who travelled had seen aught of a young Israelitish lady who was lost.

  "If you seek me, Laban, I am here," replied Merapi, speaking from the shadow of the cloak.

  "What do you there alone with an Egyptian, Merapi?" he said fiercely.

  What followed I do not know for they spoke so quickly in their unfamiliar tongue that I could not understand them. At length Merapi turned to the Prince, saying:

  "Lord, this is Laban my affianced, who commands me to descend from the chariot and accompany him as best I can."

  "And I, Lady, command you to stay in it. Laban your affianced can accompany us."

  Now at this Laban grew angry, as I could see he was prone to do, and stretched out his hand as though to push Seti aside and seize Merapi.

  "Have a care, man,' said the Prince, while I, throwing down the straw, drew my sword and sprang between them, crying:

  "Slave, would you lay hands upon the Prince of Egypt?"

  "Prince of Egypt!" he said, drawing back astonished, then added sullenly, "Well what does the Prince of Egypt with my affianced?"

  "He helps her who is hurt to her home, having found her helpless in the desert with this accursed straw," I answered.

  "Forward, driver," said the Prince, and Merapi added, "Peace, Laban, and bear the straw which his Highness's companion has carried such a weary way."

  He hesitated a moment, then snatched up the bundle and set it on his head.

  As we walked side by side, his evil temper seemed to get the better of him. Without ceasing, he grumbled because Merapi was alone in the chariot with an Egyptian. At length I could bear it no longer.

  "Be silent, fellow," I said. "Least of all men should you complain of what his Highness does, seeing that already he has avenged the killing of this lady's father, and now has saved her from lying out all night among the wild beasts and men of the wilderness."

  "Of the first I have heard more than enough," he answered, "and of the second doubtless I shall hear more than enough also. Ever since my affianced met this prince, she has looked on me with different eyes and spoken to me with another voice. Yes, and when I press for marriage, she says it cannot be for a long while yet, because she is mourning for her father; her father forsooth, whom she never forgave because he betrothed her to me according to the custom of our people."

  "Perhaps she loves some other man?" I queried, wishing to learn all I could about this lady.

  "She loves no man, or did not a while ago. She loves herself alone."

  "One with so much beauty may look high in marriage."

  "High!" he replied furiously. "How can she look higher than myself who am a lord of the line of Judah, and therefore greater far than an upstart prince or any other Egyptian, were he Pharaoh himself?"

  "Surely you must be trumpeter to your tribe," I mocked, for my temper was rising.

  "Why?" he asked. "Are not the Hebrews greater than the Egyptians, as those oppressors soon shall learn, and is not a lord of Israel more than any idol-worshipper among your people?"

  I looked at the man clad in mean garments and foul from his labour in the brickfield, marvelling at his insolence. There was no doubt but that he believed what he said; I could see it in his proud eye and bearing. He thought that his tribe was of more import in the world than our great and ancient nation, and that he, an unknown youth, equalled or surpassed Pharaoh himself. Then, being enraged by these insults, I answered:

  "You say so, but let us put it to the proof. I am but a scribe, yet I have seen war. Linger a little that we may learn whether a lord of Israel is better than a scribe of Egypt."

  "Gladly would I chastise you, Writer," he answered, "did I not see your plot. You wish to delay me here, and perhaps to murder me by some foul means, while your master basks in the smiles of the Moon of Israel. Therefore I will
not stay, but another time it shall be as you wish, and perhaps ere long."

  Now I think that I should have struck him in the face, though I am not one of those who love brawling. But at this moment there appeared a company of Egyptian horse led by none other than the Count Amenmeses. Seeing the Prince in the Chariot, they halted and gave the salute. Amenmeses leapt to the ground.

  "We are come out to search for your Highness," he said, "fearing lest some hurt had befallen you."

  "I thank you, Cousin," answered the Prince, "but the hurt has befallen another, not me."

  "That is well, your Highness," said the Count, studying Merapi with a smile. "Where is the lady wounded? Not in the breast, I trust."

  "No, Cousin, in the foot, which is why she travels with me in this chariot."

  "Your Highness was ever kind to the unfortunate. I pray you let me take your place, or suffer me to set this girl upon a horse."

  "Drive on," said Seti.

  So, escorted by the soldiers, whom I heard making jests to each other about the Prince and the lady, as I think did the Hebrew Laban also, for he glared about him and ground his teeth, we came at last to the town. Here, guided by Merapi, the chariot was halted at the house of Jabez her uncle, a white-bearded old Hebrew with a cunning eye, who rushed from the door of his mud-roofed dwelling crying he had done no harm that soldiers should come to take him.

  "It is not you whom the Egyptians wish to capture, it is your niece and my betrothed," shouted Laban, whereat the soldiers laughed, as did some women who had gathered round. Meanwhile the Prince was helping Merapi to descend out of the chariot, from which indeed he lifted her. The sight seemed to madden Laban, who rushed forward to tear her from his arms, and in the attempt jostled his Highness. The captain of the soldiers--he was an officer of Pharaoh's bodyguard--lifted his sword in a fury and struck Laban such a blow upon the head with the flat of the blade that he fell upon his face and lay there groaning.

  "Away with that Hebrew dog and scourge him!" cried the captain. "Is the royal blood of Egypt to be handled by such as he?"

  Soldiers sprang forward to do his bidding, but Seti said quietly:

  "Let the fellow be, friends; he lacks manners, that is all. Is he hurt?"

  As he spoke Laban leapt to his feet and, fearing worse things, fled away with a curse and a glare of hate at the Prince.

  "Farewell, Lady," said Seti. "I wish you a quick recovery."

  "I thank your Highness," she answered, looking about her confusedly. "Be pleased to wait a little while that I may return to you your jewel."

  "Nay, keep it, Lady, and if ever you are in need or trouble of any sort, send it to me who know it well and you shall not lack succour."

  She glanced at him and burst into tears.

  "Why do you weep?" he asked.

  "Oh! your Highness, because I fear that trouble is near at hand. My affianced, Laban, has a revengeful heart. Help me to the house, my uncle."

  "Listen, Hebrew," said Seti, raising his voice; "if aught that is evil befalls this niece of yours, or if she is forced to walk whither she would not go, sorrow shall be your portion and that of all with whom you have to do. Do you hear?"

  "O my Lord, I hear, I hear. Fear nothing. She shall be guarded carefully as--as she will doubtless guard that trinket on her foot."

  "Ana," said the Prince to me that night, when I was talking with him before he went to rest, "I know not why, but I fear that man Laban; he has an evil eye."

  "I too think it would have been better if your Highness had left him to be dealt with by the soldiers, after which there would have been nothing to fear from him in this world."

  "Well, I did not, so there's an end. Ana, she is a fair woman and a sweet."

  "The fairest and the sweetest that ever I saw, my Prince."

  "Be careful, Ana. I pray you be careful, lest you should fall in love with one who is already affianced."

  I only looked at him in answer, and as I looked I bethought me of the words of Ki the Magician. So, I think, did the Prince; at least he laughed not unhappily and turned away.

  For my part I rested ill that night, and when at last I slept, it was to dream of Merapi making her prayer in the rays of the moon.

  Chapter VII

  THE AMBUSH

  Eight full days went by before we left the land of Goshen. The story that the Israelites had to tell was long, sad also. Moreover, they gave evidence as to many cruel things that they had suffered, and when this was finished the testimony of the guards and others must be called, all of which it was necessary to write down. Lastly, the Prince seemed to be in no hurry to be gone, as he said because he hoped that the two prophets would return from the wilderness, which they never did. During all this time Seti saw no more of Merapi, nor indeed did he speak of her, even when the Count Amenmeses jested him as to his chariot companion and asked him if he had driven again in the desert by moonlight.

  I, however, saw her once. When I was wandering in the town one day towards sunset, I met her walking with her uncle Jabez upon one side and her lover, Laban, on the other, like a prisoner between two guards. I thought she looked unhappy, but her foot seemed to be well again; at least she moved without limping.

  I stopped to salute her, but Laban scowled and hurried her away. Jabez stayed behind and fell into talk with me. He told me that she was recovered of her hurt, but that there had been trouble between her and Laban because of all that happened on that evening when she came by it, ending in his encounter with the captain.

  "This young man seems to be of a jealous nature," I said, "one who will make a harsh husband for any woman."

  "Yes, learned scribe, jealousy has been his curse from youth as it is with so many of our people, and I thank God that I am not the woman whom he is to marry."

  "Why, then, do you suffer her to marry him, Jabez?"

  "Because her father affianced her to this lion's whelp when she was scarce more than a child, and among us that is a bond hard to break. For my own part," he added, dropping his voice, and glancing round with shifting eyes, "I should like to see my niece in some different place to that of the wife of Laban. With her great beauty and wit, she might become anything--anything if she had opportunity. But under our laws, even if Laban died, as might happen to so violent a man, she could wed no one who is not a Hebrew."

  "I thought she told us that her mother was a Syrian."

  "That is so, Scribe Ana. She was a beautiful captive of war whom Nathan came to love and made his wife, and the daughter takes after her. Still she is Hebrew and of the Hebrew faith and congregation. Had it not been so, she might have shone like a star, nay, like the very moon after which she is named, perhaps in the court of Pharaoh himself."

  "As the great queen Taia did, she who changed the religion of Egypt to the worship of one god in a bygone generation," I suggested.

  "I have heard of her, Scribe Ana. She was a wondrous woman, beautiful too by her statues. Would that you Egyptians could find such another to turn your hearts to a purer faith and to soften them towards us poor aliens. When does his Highness leave the land of Goshen?"

  "At sunrise on the third day from this."

  "Provision will be needed for the journey, much provision for so large a train. I deal in sheep and other foodstuffs, Scribe Ana."

  "I will mention the matter to his Highness and to the Vizier, Jabez."

  "I thank you, Scribe, and will in waiting at the camp to-morrow morning. See, Laban returns with Merapi. One word, let his Highness beware of Laban. He is very revengeful and has not forgotten that sword-blow on the head."

  "Let Laban be careful," I answered. "Had it not been for his Highness the soldiers would have killed him the other night because he dared to offer affront to the royal blood. A second time he will not escape. Moreover, Pharaoh would avenge aught he did upon the people of Israel."

  "I understand. It would be sad if Laban were killed, very sad. But the people of Israel have One who can protect them even against Pharaoh and all his hosts. F
arewell, learned Scribe. If ever I come to Tanis, with your leave we will talk more together."

  That night I told the Prince all that had passed. He listened, and said:

  "I grieve for the lady Merapi, for hers is like to be a hard fate. Yet," he added laughing, "perhaps it is as well for you, friend, that you should see no more of her who is sure to bring trouble wherever she goes. That woman has a face which haunts the mind, as the Ka haunts the tomb, and for my part I do not wish to look upon it again."