Читать книгу Belshazzar - Генри Райдер Хаггард - Страница 5

In the doorway of the chamber I glanced back. By the wavering light of the lamp I saw the white shape of her who had been the Queen Atyra and my love, lying still and dreadful on the couch, her head turned strangely as though to watch me go. On the floor from beneath a rug and a splendid garment which she had worn at the feast, crept the red stream that told of murder, and near by it lay the sword of Ninari. Some jewels glittered upon a stool and among them was a flower, one which that afternoon I had given to her – yes, she had taken it from my hand, kissed it and set it in her girdle. The moon shone through the open window-place out of which I had hurled Ninari. Such was the picture, a terrible picture that in every detail must haunt me till I die.

I wished to turn back to recover that flower, but Belus thrust me before him and closed the door. We passed down the passage to my apartment. This door also Belus closed and locked. We stood face to face in my chamber.

“What now?” I said drearily. “Give me one of those drugs of yours, Belus, that which kills so swiftly, for all is done.”

“Nay,” he answered, “all is but begun. Be a man and hearken. The woman is dead; by her lies the sword of Ninari. Who save I knows that you entered her chamber? Ninari is dead also; he lies broken at the foot of the palace wall for I saw you cast him from the window-place whence it will be believed he flung himself after doing murder, since he is untouched by knife or sword.”

“I know, Belus, I know; and my face will tell the tale or I shall go mad and babble it.”

He nodded his wise head.

“Perchance, Ramose. At least Pharaoh will kill you because she was in your charge. Or, if he does not, those Syrians will, guessing the truth. By this hand or by that, death awaits you here, sure death, and with it shame.”

“I seek to die,” I answered.

“You cannot, for it is written otherwise. Have I not read it in your stars? Listen. The General Amasis has departed to join the army that goes to fight the Babylonians on the frontiers of Egypt. Pharaoh does not trust this Amasis whom the soldiers love too well. He sends me to be his counsellor and to spy upon him, and I depart within an hour for the command is urgent. Disguised as my scribe you will accompany me. Forseeing trouble already I have ordered all. To-morrow you will be missed and perhaps it may be thought that some ill has befallen you. Do not young men wander out at night and meet with adventures that have been known to end evilly? Has not the Nile borne the bodies of many such towards the sea? Or may not the Syrians have murdered you, as they murdered the queen who was known to look on you so kindly? At best there will be much talk and Pharaoh will be wrath, but as you have vanished away the matter will be forgotten. If afterwards it is learned that, seeking adventure, you went to join Amasis, you may be forgiven – that is unless those Syrians know all and plotted this murder. Answer not, but come, bringing your sword and what gold you have.”

A while later, it may have been one hour, or two, I forget, whose memory of that night is dimmed by a fog of wretchedness, two figures might have been seen leaving that part of the palace which was called Dream House because there always dwelt the royal astrologer. They left it by a small gate guarded by a single soldier who challenged them. Belus gave some password; also he showed a ring and spoke in the guard’s ear.

“Right enough. All in order,” said the man. “Belus the Babylonian and a scribe we were commanded to pass. Well, here is Belus the Babylonian whom we all know, for he tells our fortunes by the stars, and there’s the scribe in a dark cloak with a hood to it. A very fine young man, too, for a scribe who generally are short and round-stomached, or sometimes, quite small and very like a girl, for many are named scribes who never served apprenticeship in a temple or a school. Magician Belus, I fear that I cannot let this scribe pass until I have called the officer to have a look at him – or her.”

“What do you mean, man?” asked Belus coldly. “Is not Pharaoh’s ring enough?”

“Not to-night, Master. Although you may not have heard it, there is trouble yonder in the palace. Something terrible has happened there. Some great one has been murdered. Who it is I know not. Still word has come that all gateways are to be watched and none allowed to pass whose faces are covered or who are not known, even under Pharaoh’s seal. Therefore I pray you stay a minute until the officer and his guard pass upon their round.”

“As you will,” said Belus, “and while we wait, friend, tell me, how is that little daughter of yours whom I visited two days ago in her fever?”

“Master,” answered the man in another voice, a trembling voice, “she hangs between life and death. When I left to come on guard at length she had fallen asleep and the wise women said that either it is the beginning of the sleep of death or she will wake free of the fever and recover. Tell me, Master, you who are wise and can read the stars, which she will do. For know, I love this child, my only one, and my heart is racked.”

With the staff he bore Belus made a drawing in the sand. Then he looked up at certain stars and added dots to the drawing, which done, he said,

“Events are strangely linked with one another in this world, my friend, nor can we understand who or what it is that ties them thus together. Who for instance would have dreamed that your daughter’s fate hangs upon whether I and this scribe of mine, whom perchance you guessed rightly to be a woman, though a tall one such as are loved by small men like myself, pass at once upon our business, or wait until it pleases some officer to wander this way upon his rounds. If we pass, the stars say that your daughter will live; if we wait, while we are waiting she will die – yes, before the moonlight creeps to that mark, she will die. But if my departing footstep stamps upon it, she will live.”

“Pass, Magician Belus, with the girl disguised as a scribe,” said the man, “for such I see now she is, though at first the moonlight deceived me. Pass.”

“Good night, friend,” said Belus, “the blessing of the gods be upon you, and upon that daughter of yours who will live to comfort your old age.”

Then with his foot he stamped out the pattern on the sand and we went on.

“Will the child live?” I asked idly, for this sight of the grief of another seemed to dull my own.

“Yes,” answered Belus. “My medicines have worked well and that sleep is a presage of her recovery. Surely she will live, but what will happen to her father when it is learned that he has suffered some veiled traveller to pass out, I do not know.”

“Perchance he will keep silence upon that matter.”

“Aye, but when the light comes our footprints on the sand will tell their own tale, that is, unless a wind rises. Still by that time we shall be far away. Run, Scribe, run. The horses and the escort, men who are sworn to me, await us in yonder grove.”

Eight days later we came to the camp of Amasis upon the borders of Egypt. An officer led us to the tent of Amasis whom we found in jovial mood, for he had dined and drunk well, as was his custom.

“Greeting, learned Belus,” said Amasis. “Now tell me on what business Pharaoh sends you?”

Belus drew out a roll, laid it to his forehead and handed it to Amasis, saying,

“It is written here, General.”

He undid the roll, glanced at it and cast it down.

“It is written in Greek,” he exclaimed, “and I, an Egyptian, will not read Greek. Repeat its contents. Nay, it is needless, for I have heard them already by another messenger who has outstripped you, one of my own captains whom Pharaoh did not send. The writing orders that I must make report daily, or as often as may be, of all that passes in this army, through you, Belus the Babylonian. Is it not so?”

“Yes,” answered Belus calmly, “that is the sum of it.”

“Which means,” went on Amasis, “that you are sent here to spy upon me and all that I do.”

“Yes, General,” replied Belus in the same quiet voice. “Pharaoh, as you know, is jealous and fears you.”

“Why, Belus?”

“Because the Egyptians love you, especially the soldiers, and do not love Pharaoh who they think, favours the Greeks too much, and in all but blood is himself a Greek.”

“That I know. Is there no other reason?”

“Yes, General. As you may have heard, like other Babylonians I have some skill in divination and in the casting of horoscopes. Pharaoh caused me to cast his, and yours also, General.”

“And what did they say, Belus?” asked Amasis leaning forward.

Belus dropped his voice and answered,

“They said that the star of Apries wanes, while that of Amasis grows bright. They said that ere long where shone the star of Apries, will shine the star of Amasis alone, though first for a time those two stars will ride in the heavens side by side. That is what they said though I told Apries another tale.”

“Do you mean the throne?” asked Amasis in a whisper.

“Aye, the throne and a certain general wearing Pharaoh’s crown.”

For a while there was silence, then Amasis asked,

“Does Pharaoh send you to poison me, as doubtless you can do, you strange and fateful Belus, who like a night-bird, have flitted from Babylon to Egypt for your own dark and secret purpose?”

“Nay, and if he did, I, their servant, am not one to fight against the stars. Fear nothing from me who am your friend, though there are others whom you will do well to watch. Now, General, here in this camp I am in your power. You can kill me if you will, but that would be foolish, for I have not told you all the horoscope.”

“Your meaning?”

“It is that if you kill me, as I think you had it in your mind to do but now, me or another, that star of yours will never shine alone, because my blood will call for yours. Am I safe with you and if I need it, will you protect me when you grow great?”

“You are safe and I will protect you now and always. I swear it by Amen and by Maat, Goddess of Truth. Yet, why do you turn from Pharaoh who has sheltered you ever since you escaped from Babylon? – for I have heard that you did escape on account of some crime.”

“Because Pharaoh turns from me and presently will seek my life; indeed I think that he seeks it already. For the rest, the crime of which you have heard was not mine, but that of another – upon whom I wait to be avenged in some far-off appointed hour,” he added and as he spoke the words, his face grew fierce and even terrible.

“Be plain, Belus, but tell me first, who is this with you who listens to our most secret thoughts? How comes it that I never noted him?”

“Perchance because I willed that you should not, General, or perchance because wine dims the eyes. But look on him, and answer your own question.”

As he spoke, very swiftly Belus bent forward and unclasped the long cloak which I wore, revealing me clad as a soldier with an armoured cap upon my head. Amasis stared at me.

“By the gods!” he said, “this is none other than Ramose, Pharaoh’s bastard and my pupil in arms whom I love well. Now what does this young cock here? Is he another of Pharaoh’s spies whom you have brought to be your witness?”

“A poor spy, I think, General. Nay, like me he flies from Pharaoh’s wrath. There has been trouble in the palace. A certain Syrian queen whom you will remember, for in truth she sent you here, has come to her end – a swift and bloody end – as has her minister.”

“I have heard as much, for rumour of the death of great ones flies more swiftly than a dove, but what has that to do with Ramose? Did he perchance stifle her with kisses, as I would have done at his age?”

“Nothing, nothing at all, General. But Ramose was her guardian and chamberlain, and Pharaoh demands his life in payment for hers, so do her Syrians, or will ere long. Therefore he seeks refuge under the shield of Amasis, his captain.”

“And shall have it, by the gods. Am I a man to give up one who has served under me, over the matter of a woman, even to Pharaoh’s self? Not so, and yet I must remember that this youngster is Pharaoh’s son and half a Greek and has heard words that would set a noose about my neck. Do you vouch for him, Belus?”

“Aye, Amasis. Listen. From boyhood this lad has been as one born to me and I, who now am – childless – love him. He has been drawn into trouble, and thereby, as I fear, embroiled Syria and Egypt. Therefore his life is forfeit, as is mine who have befriended him and aided his escape. Therefore, too, both of us have fled to you, and henceforward swear ourselves to your service, looking to you to shield us. Tell us, may we sleep in peace, or must we seek it elsewhere?”

“Yes, you may sleep easy, even from Pharaoh, for here in this camp I am Pharaoh,” answered Amasis proudly. “Have I not sworn it already and am I a troth-breaker?” he added.

Scarce had the words passed his lips when from without came a sound of sentries challenging, followed by a cry of “Pass on, Messenger of Pharaoh.” The tent opened and there appeared a travel-stained man clad in Pharaoh’s uniform, who bowed, handed a roll to Amasis and at a sign, retired.

“Pharaoh sends me many letters,” he said, as he cut the silk and undid the roll. Then he read, looked up and laughed.

“Your guardian spirit must be good, Belus. At least you two were wise to take that oath of me upon the instant. Hearken to what is written here,” and he read aloud,

“Pharaoh to the General Amasis, “The Syrians who came hither with the Queen Atyra who is dead, as the price of the friendship of their nation to Egypt, demand the life of the Count Ramose who was her chamberlain, because he failed in his duty and did not keep her safe; also because as they allege he murdered one Ninari. If he has fled to your camp disguised as a scribe, as is reported, put him to death and send his head to Sais that it may be shown to them. With it send Belus the Babylonian, that the truth of all this matter may be wrung from him. “Sealed with the seals of Pharaoh and his Vizier.”

“Now, Belus,” went on Amasis, “tell me, you who are wise in counsel, what shall I do? Obey Pharaoh or my oath?”

I listened like to one in a dream, but Belus answered quietly,

“Which you will, Amasis. Obey Pharaoh, cause this lad to be murdered and send me to the torturers at Sais, and see your star set – as I promised you. Obey your oath, and see that star shine out above all storms, royally and alone. Yet, is it needful to urge Amasis to honesty by revealing what Thoth has written concerning him in the Book of Fate?”

“I think not,” answered Amasis with his great laugh. “Do they not say of me in Egypt that never yet did I break troth with friend or foe, and shall I do so now? Young man, I see that you have scribe’s tools about you; therefore be seated and write these words:

“From Amasis the General, to Pharaoh, “The letter of Pharaoh has been received. Know, O divine Pharaoh, that it is not the custom of Amasis to kill those who are serving under him in war, save for cowardice or other military offence. If the Syrians have aught against the Count Ramose, let them come hither and set out their case before me and my captains. For the rest, Belus the Babylonian, whom the good god Pharaoh sent hither to watch me, is too weary to travel. Moreover, I keep him at my side that I may watch him.”

When I had finished writing, Amasis read the roll, sealed it and summoning an officer, bade him to give it to the messenger to be delivered to Pharaoh at Sais. When the officer had gone he thought a while, and said in his open fashion,

“The quarrel between me and Pharaoh or rather between the Egyptians and his friends the Greeks, has long been brewing. It is strange that it should have boiled over upon the little matter of this young Count and his love affairs, yet doubtless so it was decreed. Have no fear, Ramose, Pharaoh is cowardly for otherwise he would not seek the life of his own son for such a trifle from dread born of Syrian threats; a tyrant also and when tyrants are taken by the beard, they grow afraid. Yet my counsel to both of you is, to keep out of the reach of Pharaoh’s arm till this business is forgotten. If ever he speaks of it to me again, I will tell him to his face that he should thank me who have saved him from the crime of murdering his son, whose blood would have brought the curse of the gods upon him. Now drink a cup of wine, both of you, and let me hear this tale of the death of Atyra, if she be dead in truth.”

So I told it to him, keeping nothing back. When it was done, he said,

“I am glad that you threw that Syrian rat through the window-place, sending him to settle his account with Atyra in the underworld. Grieve not, young man. There are more women left upon the earth who will teach you to forget your trouble, and for the rest this ill-fated lady was one hard to be resisted. Now, go rest. To-morrow I will find you a place in my bodyguard and we shall see whether you are luckier in war than you have been in love.”

Thus he spoke though in the after years, when he had ceased to be a bluff general and had become a wily Pharaoh steeped in statecraft, he forgot, or pretended to forget all this story and asserted that Atyra had borne me a child before her death. But of this in its season.

That night ere I slept, for the first time I opened all my heart to Belus, showing him how great was its bitterness and woe. Moreover I told him that if I escaped the wrath of Pharaoh and the accidents of war, I had sworn an oath before the gods to have no more to do with women.

“I rejoice to hear it, Son,” answered Belus, with his strange wise smile, “and I pray that the memory of the gods of Egypt is not too long. You say that you have done with women, but mayhap women have not done with such a man as you, nor because one has brought you sorrow, is it certain that another may not bring you joy. Now grieve no more over what cannot be mended nor for her who is dead because of you, but follow after Fortune with a brave heart, for such she loves. Only one thing I hope of you, that you will suffer me, your master, to stay at your side through bad weather and through good, until perhaps I am drawn away to fulfil the purpose of my life.”

Then without telling me what was that purpose, he kissed me on the brow and I laid me down and slept.