Complete Works of F Marion Crawford

by F. Marion Crawford

  ‘Can you say this, “My father was a dog and the son of dogs”?’ asked the woman.

  But Almasta pushed her angrily away, for she half understood. Then the woman grew angry too, and shook her fist in Almasta’s face.

  ‘If you fight, you shall eat sticks,’ said Khaled, and then they were all quiet.

  Thus he took possession of the city of Haïl and remaining there some time he reduced all the country to submission, so that it remained a part of the kingdom of Nejed for many years after that. For the power of the Shammars was broken, and they could nowhere have mustered a thousand men able to bear arms. Khaled set a governor in the place of the Sultan and ordered all the laws of the country in the same manner as those of Nejed, and after he had been absent from Riad nearly two months, he set aside a part of his force to remain behind and keep the peace in case there should be an outbreak, and with the rest he began to journey homeward, taking a great spoil and many captives with him.

  During the march most of the women captives rode on camels, but a few of the most beautiful were taken in litters lest the fatigues of riding should injure their appearance and thus diminish their value. Almasta was one of these, and the Sultan of Haïl was taken in a cage as has been said, though he was not otherwise ill-treated, and received his portion of camel’s meat and bread, equal to that of the soldiers.

  Khaled sent messengers on fleet mares to Riad to give warning of his coming, but he could not himself proceed very quickly, because his army was burdened with so much spoil; and as there was now no haste to overtake an enemy he journeyed chiefly at night, resting during the day wherever there was water, for although the summer was far advanced it was still hot. He thought continually of Zehowah, by day in his tent and by night on the march, for he supposed that she would be glad when she heard of the victory and that she would now love him, because he had avenged her people, and taken Haïl, and brought back gold and captives, besides other treasures.

  ‘She was already pleased with my deeds, before we left Riad,’ he thought, ‘for she asked me how many of the Shammars I had slain with my own hand, and at the last she wished me to stay with her, most probably that I might tell her more about the fight. How much the more will she be glad now, since I have killed so many more and have brought back treasure, and made a whole country subject to her father. Shall not blood and gold buy the love of a woman?’

  It chanced once during this journey that Khaled was sitting at the door of his tent after the sun had gone down and before the night march had begun. Upon the one side, at a little distance, was the tent of the women captives who had been taken from the palace in Haïl, and upon the other the soldiers had set down the cage in which the Sultan of Shammar was carried. The men had laid a carpet over the cage to keep the sun from the prisoner during the heat of the day, lest he should not reach Riad alive as Khaled desired. For the Sultan was fat and of a choleric temper. Now the soldiers had given him food but had forgotten to bring him water, and it was hot under the carpet now that the evening had come. But he could lift it up a little on one side, and having done so, he began to cry out, cursing Khaled and railing at him, not knowing that he was so near at hand.

  ‘Oh you whose portion it shall be to broil everlastingly, and to eat thistles and thorns, and to lie bound in red-hot chains as I lie in this cage! Have you brought me out into the desert to die of thirst like a lame camel? Surely your entertainment on the day of judgment shall be boiling water and the fruit of Al Zakkam, and whenever you try to get out of hell you shall be dragged back again and beaten with iron clubs, and your skin shall dissolve, and the boiling water shall be poured upon your head!’

  In this way the captive cried out, for he was very thirsty. But when Khaled saw that no one gave him water he called in the darkness to the women who sat by their tent.

  ‘Fetch water and give the man to drink,’ he said.

  One of the women rose quickly and filled a jar at the well close by, and took it to the cage. But then the railing and cursing broke out afresh, so that Khaled wondered what had happened.

  ‘Who has sent me this unbelieving woman to torture me with thirst?’ cried the prisoner. ‘Are you not Aziz whom I was about to take for my fourth wife on account of your red hair? But your hair shall be a perpetual flame hereafter, burning the bones of your head, and your flesh shall be white with heat as iron in a forge. If I were still in my kingdom you should eat many sticks! If Allah delivers me from my enemies I will cause your skin to be embroidered with gold for a trapping to my horse!’

  The moon rose at this time, being a little past the full, and Khaled looked towards the cage and saw that the woman was standing two paces away from the Sultan’s outstretched hand. She dabbled in the cool water with her fingers so that a plashing sound was heard, and then drank herself, and scattered afterwards a few drops in the face of the thirsty captive.

  ‘It is good water,’ she said. ‘It is cold.’

  Khaled knew from her broken speech that it was Almasta, and he understood that she was torturing the prisoner with the sound and sight of the water, and with her words. So he rose from his place and went to the cage.

  ‘Did I not tell you to give him drink?’ he asked, standing before the woman.

  ‘Oh my lord, be merciful,’ cried the captive, when he saw that Khaled himself was there. ‘Be merciful and let me drink, for your heart is easily moved to pity, and by an act of charity you shall hereafter sit in the shade of the tree Sedrat and drink for ever of the wine of paradise.’

  ‘I do not desire wine,’ said Khaled. ‘But you shall certainly not thirst. Give him the jar,’ he said to Almasta. But she shook her head.

  ‘He is bad and ugly,’ she said. ‘If he does not drink, he will die.’

  Then Khaled put out his hand to take the jar of water, but Almasta threw it violently to the ground, and it broke to pieces. Thereupon the captive began again to rail and curse at Almasta and to implore Khaled with many blessings.

  ‘You shall drink, for I will bring water myself,’ said Khaled. He went back to his tent and took his own jar to the well, and filled it carefully.

  When he turned he saw that Almasta was running from his tent towards the cage, with a drawn sword in her hand. He then ran also, and being very swift of foot, he overtook her just as she thrust at the Sultan through the bars. But the sword caught in the folds of the soft carpet, and Khaled took it from her hand, and thrust her down so that she fell upon her knees. Then he gave the prisoner the jar with the water that remained in it, for some had been spilt as he ran.

  ‘Who has given you the right to kill my captives?’ he asked of Almasta.

  ‘Kill me, then!’ she cried.

  ‘Indeed, if you were not so valuable, I would cut off your head,’ Khaled answered. ‘Why do you wish me to kill you?’

  ‘I hate him,’ she said, pointing to the captive who was drinking like a thirsty camel.

  ‘That is no reason why I should kill you. Go back to the tents.’

  But Almasta laid her hand on the sword he held and tried to bring it to her own throat.

  ‘This is a strange woman,’ said Khaled. ‘Why do you wish to die? You shall go to Riad and be the Sultan’s wife.’

  ‘No, no!’ she cried. ‘Kill me! Not him, not him!’

  ‘Of whom do you speak?’

  ‘Him!’ she answered, again pointing to the prisoner. ‘Is he not the Sultan?’

  Khaled laughed aloud, for he saw that she had supposed she was to be taken to Riad to be made the wife of the Sultan of Shammar. Indeed, the other women had told her so, to anger her.

  ‘Not this man,’ he said, endeavouring to make her understand. ‘There is another Sultan at Riad. The Sultan of Shammar is one, the Sultan of Nejed another.’

  ‘You?’ she asked, suddenly springing up. ‘With you?’

  The moon was bright and Khaled saw that her eyes gleamed like stars and her face grew warm, and when she took his hands her own were cold.

  ‘No, not I,’ he a
nswered. ‘I am not the Sultan.’

  But her face became grey in the moonlight, and she covered her head with her veil and went slowly back to her tent.

  ‘This woman loves me,’ Khaled thought. ‘And as I have not talked much with her, it must be because I am strong and have conquered the people among whom she was captive. How much the more then, will Zehowah love me, for the same reason.’

  So he was light of heart, and soon afterwards he commanded everything to be made ready and mounted his bay mare for the night march.

  CHAPTER V

  WHEN KHALED WAS within half a day’s march of Riad, the Sultan came out to meet him with a great train of attendants and courtiers, with cooks bringing food and sweetmeats, and a number of musicians. And they all encamped together for a short time in the shade of the trees, for there were gardens in the place. The Sultan embraced Khaled and put upon him a very magnificent garment, after which they sat down together in a large tent which the Sultan had brought with him. When they had eaten and refreshed themselves they began to talk, and Khaled told his father-in-law all that he had done, and gave him an account of the spoils which he had brought back, commanding the most valuable objects to be brought into the tent. After this the Sultan desired to see the women captives.

  ‘There is one especially whom it may please you to take for yourself,’ said Khaled, and he ordered Almasta to be brought in.

  When the male slaves had left the tent, Almasta drew aside her veil. The Sultan looked at her and smiled, stroking his beard, for he was much pleased.

  ‘Her face is like a pearl and her hair is a setting of red gold,’ he said. ‘Truly she is like the sunrise on a fair morning when there are red clouds in the east.’

  Almasta looked attentively at him, and afterwards she glanced at Khaled, who could not avoid looking at her on account of her beauty. Her face was grave and indifferent. Then Khaled told the Sultan how she had hated the Sultan of Shammar and had tried to kill him on the journey.

  ‘This is a dangerous woman, my son,’ said the old man. But he laughed as he said it, for although he was old, he was no coward. ‘She is dangerous, indeed. Will you love me, pearl of my soul’s treasures?’ he inquired of her, still smiling.

  ‘You are my lord and my master,’ she answered, looking down.

  When Khaled heard this he wondered whether his father-in-law would get any affection from her. Zehowah had answered in the same words.

  ‘By Allah, I will give you such gifts as will make you love me,’ said the Sultan. ‘What shall I give you?’

  ‘His head,’ answered Almasta, raising her eyes quickly.

  ‘The head of the Sultan of Shammar?’

  Almasta nodded, and Khaled could see that her lips trembled.

  ‘A dead man has no companions,’ said the Sultan, looking at Khaled to see what he would do. But Khaled cared little, and said nothing.

  So the Sultan called a slave and ordered the captive’s head to be struck off immediately. Then Almasta threw herself upon the carpet on the floor of the tent and embraced his feet.

  ‘See how easily the love of a woman is got,’ Khaled thought, ‘even by an old man whose beard is grey and his limbs heavy.’

  When Almasta rose again, she looked at Khaled triumphantly, as though to remind him of the night on the journey when he had hindered her from killing the captive in his cage. But though he understood her, he held his peace, for he had cared nothing whether the prisoner lived or died after he had delivered him over to his father-in-law, and he was considering whether he might not please Zehowah in some similar manner. This was not easy, however, for he was not aware that Zehowah had any private enemy, whose head he might offer her.

  After the Sultan had seen the other women and the best of the spoils, Khaled begged that he might be allowed to ride on into Riad alone, for he saw that the Sultan intended to spend the night in feasting where he had encamped. The Sultan was so much pleased with Almasta and so greatly diverted in examining the rich stuffs and the gold and silver vessels and jewels, that he let Khaled go, almost without trying to detain him, though he made him many speeches praising his conduct of the war, and would have loaded him with gifts. But Khaled would take nothing with him, saying that he would only receive his just share with the rest; and the fame of his generosity immediately went abroad among the soldiers and the Bedouins throughout all the camp.

  ‘For,’ said Khaled, ‘there is not a fleeter mare than mine among all those we have taken; my sword proves to be a good one, for I have tried it well; as for women, I am satisfied with one wife; and besides a wife, a sword and a horse, there are no treasures in the world which I covet.’

  So Khaled rode away alone into Riad, for he desired no company, being busy with his own thoughts. He reached the gates at nightfall and went immediately to the palace and entered Zehowah’s apartments. He found her sitting among her women in her accustomed place, listening to the tales of an old woman who sat in the midst of the circle. As soon as Zehowah saw her husband she sprang up gladly to meet him, as a friend would have done.

  ‘Though it is summer-time, I have pursued the enemy,’ said Khaled. ‘And though the sun was hot, I have got the victory and brought home the spoil.’

  He said this remembering how she had tried to hinder him from going. Then he gave her his sword and he sat down with her, while the women brought food and drink, for he was weary, and hungry and thirsty. The women also brought their musical instruments and began to sing songs in praise of Khaled’s deeds; but after a time he sent them all away and remained alone with Zehowah.

  ‘O Zehowah,’ he said, ‘you are my law and my rule. You are my speech and my occupation. You are my Kebla to which I turn in prayer. For the love of you I have got the victory over many foes. And yet I see that your cheek is cold and the light of your eyes is undisturbed. Have you no other enemies for me to destroy, or have you no secret foe whose head would be a pleasant gift?’

  Zehowah laughed, as she fanned him with a palm leaf.

  ‘Do you still thirst for war, Khaled?’ she asked. ‘Truly you have swallowed up all our enemies as the dry sand swallows up water. Where shall I find enemies enough for you to slay? You went out in pride and you have returned in glory. Are you not yet satisfied? And as for any secret foe, if I have any I do not know him. Rest, therefore; eat and drink and spend your days in peace.’

  ‘I care little for either food or drink,’ Khaled answered, ‘and I need little rest.’

  ‘Will nothing but war please you? Must you overcome Egypt and make Syria pay tribute as far as Damascus before you will rest?’

  ‘I will conquer the whole world for you, if you wish it,’ said Khaled.

  ‘What should I do with the world?’ asked Zehowah. ‘Have I not treasures and garments enough and to spare, besides the spoil you have now brought home? And besides, if you would conquer the world you must needs make war upon true believers, amongst whom we do not count the people of Shammar. Be satisfied therefore and rest in peace.’

  ‘How shall I be satisfied until I have kindled the light in Zehowah’s eyes at my coming, and until I feel that her hand is cold and trembles when I take it in mine?’

  ‘Do I say to my eyes, “be dull” — or to my hand, “do not tremble”?’ Zehowah asked. ‘Is this, which you ask of me, something I can command at will, as I can a smile or a word? If it is, teach me and I will learn. But if not, why do you expect of me what I cannot do? Can a camel gallop like a horse, or a horse trot like a camel, or bear great burdens through the desert? Have you come back from a great war only to talk of this something which you call love, which is yours and not mine, which you feel and I cannot feel, which you cannot explain nor describe, and which, after all, is but a whim of the fancy, as one man loves sour drink and another sweet?’

  ‘Do you think that love is nothing but a whim of the fancy?’ asked Khaled bitterly.

  ‘What else can it be? Would you love me if you were blind?’

  ‘Yes.’

&nbs
p; ‘And if you were deaf?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And if you could not touch my face with your hands, nor kiss me with your lips?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Zehowah laughed.

  ‘Then love is indeed a fancy. For if you could not see me, nor touch me, nor hear me, what would remain to you but an empty thought?’

  ‘Have I seen you, or touched you, or heard your voice for these two months and a half?’ asked Khaled. ‘Yet I have loved you as much during all that time.’

  ‘You mean that you have thought of me, as I have thought of you, by the memory of what was not fancy, but reality. Would you dispute with me, Khaled? You will find me subtle.’

  ‘There is more wit in my arm than in my head,’ Khaled answered, ‘and it is not easy for a man to persuade a woman.’

  ‘It is very easy, provided that the man have reason on his side. But where are the treasures you have brought back, the slaves and the rich spoils? I would gladly see some of them, for the messengers you sent told great tales of the riches of Haïl.’

  ‘To-morrow they will be brought into the city. Your father has remained feasting in the gardens towards Dereyiyah, and the whole army with him. I rode hither alone.’

  ‘Why did you not remain too?’

  ‘Because that whim of the fancy which I call love brought me back,’ Khaled answered.

  ‘Then I am glad you love me,’ said Zehowah. ‘For I am glad you came quickly.’

  ‘Are you truly glad?’

  ‘I was very tired of my women,’ she answered. ‘I am sorry you have brought nothing with you. Are there any among the captives who are beautiful?’

  ‘There is one, a present sent lately to the Sultan of Shammar. She is very beautiful, and unlike all the rest. Your father is much pleased with her, and will perhaps marry her.’

  ‘Of what kind is her beauty?’ asked Zehowah.

  ‘She is as white as milk, her eyes are twin sapphires, her mouth is a rose, her hair is like gold reddened in fire.’