CHAPTER XVIII
THE SPIDER’S WEB
CAPTAIN MARDUX and his troopers felt themselves highly honored as escorts of the highest born and most beautiful woman in the world, when they departed from Persepolis with the Princess Athura. When she chose to ride a horse, the captain knelt that she might place one small foot on his knee and thence leap into the saddle. When she chose to ride in a litter, the captain had difficulty in choosing from the many volunteers those who should be carriers. He had to be severe in denying some the right to stand guard around her tent as she slept, since all could not do so. These hard-fisted, hard-riding sons of Persia deemed themselves guardians of a goddess; and all of them were her devotees. Her journey was a pleasant pastime.
They arrived at Susa on the sixth day and were met by the governor of the city with all his chief officials. They conducted the Princess to the royal palace, where she rested a day. The city was gayly decorated in her honor. Then a company of Medean cavalry, under command of a noble Mede, relieved Captain Mardux and his men of their charge, and with them the Princess continued her journey towards Hamadan. From Susa to Behistun the road was better and the pace more rapid. On the tenth day they stood beneath the shadow of the great rock and were about to turn eastward across the mountains, when a courier met them, bearing a letter, informing Athura that King Bardya had gone to a castle in Nicæa on a hunting-trip and asking her to come to him there. Athura and her escort therefore took a road leading northerly into Western Medea. Thus it came about that Captains Arios and Mardux, pushing forward in desperate haste to rescue the Princess from the usurper, and supposing that she had gone direct to Hamadan, missed her by turning to the right at Behistun two hours after she and her train had disappeared in the northern hills. Thus it came about also that the Prince of Iran and his weary ten thousand, having avoided Babylon on the right and Susa on the left, lest they should meet with opposition and be delayed, when they reached the great highway between Persepolis and Susa and learned that the Princess had gone northward to Hamadan, delayed not to await the coming of the Persian army but also turned northward.
Athura’s heart beat high with anticipated pleasure. A decree had been published in Susa announcing the death of Cambyses in Syria and the peaceful adherence of the King’s army to Bardya. Civil war would thus be averted. Her beloved brother would doubtless call the Prince of Iran to be his chief counselor, the second man in the empire. Nothing would hinder her marriage to him. The future seemed indeed bright with promise. The Medean escort was attentive and obedient to her slightest wish. At Nicæa a second message awaited Athura, informing her that the King was at the castle of Sictachotes, a score of miles farther north, and bidding her come there. Here a new escort took charge, composed of soldiers and priests whose appearance did not at all please the Princess. She did not hesitate to go forward, however, but she resolved that she would persuade her brother to discharge from his service men who resembled robbers rather than soldiers.
It was late afternoon when they arrived in sight of the castle or stronghold of the false Bardya. The castle was an irregular pile of stone buildings on the summit of a hill, the crater of a long-extinct volcano. A small lake filled the mouth of the crater and on its rim the buildings had been constructed. At the foot of the cone and completely surrounding it was a high stone wall through which a huge brazen gate gave entrance and egress. The buildings were low and of rude architecture, except one tower which rose to a height of fifty feet and was about thirty feet square.
The Princess wondered that her brother should bring her to such an uninviting place; but, remembering his passion for hunting, she had no misgivings. The great gate swung open to admit her and her escort, and then it closed with a clang. Having ascended the hill to a level space in front of the high tower, the escort dismounted and its leader came to assist Athura to alight. But she said haughtily to him: “Go, call the King. Why is he not here to meet me?”
The officer bowed low and went into the castle, whence he presently returned with a richly dressed official who forthwith prostrated himself before royalty. “May you live forever, O gracious lady!” he said loudly. “The King is out hunting, not expecting you until the morrow. But all things are ready for you. Be pleased to alight and enter!”
The Princess then dismounted and followed the official into the castle. The room they first entered was in the base of the high tower and occupied its whole space. It was richly furnished with tables, couches, and rugs. Draperies concealed the rough walls. Athura had brought with her three maids. Several others presently appeared from side-rooms and humbly awaited her pleasure. The official, who proved to be the King’s chamberlain, having called the servants, now said: “My Lord the King will return shortly. Meanwhile, if it please you, dinner will be served here. Let the maids be disposed of in the adjoining room. Should you desire to take the air, there is a pleasant walk around the lake. If anything be needed, pull the cord at the side here and a gong will call servants. Permit me to retire and order your dinner served.”
The Princess assented and the chamberlain, with a low salaam, departed. Having bathed, and changed her riding habit to one more comfortable, she ate dinner alone. She was grieved and impatient. But she was to suffer further disappointment. For at sundown a messenger appeared who reported that a revolt had broken out in the army at Hamadan, thus compelling the King’s instant return to that city. He had departed at once, but promised to return quickly and escort her in person to the capital. He bade her rest meanwhile at the castle.
Athura was furious. It seemed strange that her brother should treat her thus. He must be indeed changed from that former bold youth who would have let state matters go to ruin rather than fail to come to her at once when so near! She rang for the chamberlain, and when that worthy appeared she inquired, “Was the King here this morning?”
“Yes, gracious lady,” he replied humbly.
“How did he seem? Was he well?”
“He seemed very well but somewhat nervous.”
“I do not understand his strange behavior! Order immediate preparations for my departure in the morning to Hamadan! I shall go to him and ascertain the cause of this neglect.”
The chamberlain raised his hands in protest. He shook his head and salaamed humbly.
“I have an order from the King, gracious lady,” he said. “It is that I safely keep you here until he return.”
“What! Am I a prisoner?”
“Ah, no! Say not so! But this is a very unsafe country,—wolves, bears, robbers, and brigands! It is not safe for you without a strong escort to go beyond the castle-walls. The escort which brought you hither has departed for Nicæa again, and only the necessary garrison is here. Very sorrowful am I, most gracious lady, but I dare not disobey orders. The King, I assure you, will come soon.”
“Listen!” exclaimed Athura, furiously. “I care nothing for the safety of this castle! I order you to prepare this garrison to march with me to Hamadan on the morrow. I will answer to the King for you and no harm shall come to you. Let the castle take care of itself!”
But the chamberlain again shook his head and wrung his hands together in simulated agitation. “Impossible, utterly impossible! The King’s orders must be obeyed. You know not this King, gracious lady! He is a magician who can destroy one, soul and body. No, no!”
“A magician! What mean you? My brother Bardya a magician? Since when gained he that power?”
But the chamberlain, seeing that he had almost revealed his master’s real identity, shook his head and continued to wring his hands, protesting: “I meant only that the King’s eyes were upon all and over all! But I cannot disobey him, and—I will not!”
He abruptly turned and left the room. Athura went to one of the narrow windows and looked tearfully out upon the yellow landscape of hill and mountain, on which the setting sun was casting its last mellow beams. Her eyes ran over the courtyard, the steep descent of hill, the high wall below with its brazen gate and its sentries, posted at intervals on the top. A great loneliness seized upon her, a cold dread of impending evil gripped her heart, and a terror of unknown forces that seemed to surround her. Turning from the window, she met the eyes of one of the maids compassionately watching her. The expression of her face caught Athura’s attention. Repressing her tears lest the servants should deem her weak, she addressed the maid:
“What is your name?”
“Lauretha, gracious mistress,” was the answer.
“Who are you and whence come you?”
“I am a daughter of the captain of the guard, and I came from Nicæa hither.”
“Tell me, whose is this castle and how came my brother here? He has been acting most unbrotherly to me. Have you a brother whom you love most dearly? And would he call you to a place like this and then not meet you, or run away to the city without visiting you?”
The girl’s eyes filled with tears. The beauty and engaging personality of Athura had already made a deep impression upon her. She had heard in the old days of this beautiful daughter of Cyrus as a very goddess of wisdom and beauty. Now that she beheld her, she was her devotee. She drew nearer and, kneeling, caught hold of the hem of Athura’s dress and kissed it.
“Gracious Queen of the World, I am but a humble girl,” she said, sobbing: “My parentage is not even noble. But I place my soul and body at your service! Let me make confession to you and I will trust in your forgiveness for my enforced service here. If you will follow me to the chamber above, where you are to sleep and where we may be alone, I will tell you the secret of your situation.”
“Arise and be assured of my good-will. I will follow you,” answered the Princess, touched by the girl’s devotion and wondering what she meant.
The girl rose and, going to a curtained door at one side of the room, pulled aside the curtain and guided the Princess up a narrow stairway, in the thick stone wall, to a chamber above and of the same size and as richly furnished as that below. Here the Princess seated herself on a divan and the girl again knelt at her feet on the floor.
“Tell me what you mean,” said Athura, kindly.
“I know the man who calls himself Bardya. He owns this castle,” said the girl, speaking rapidly. “I also have seen your brothers, both the great Cambyses, the King, and the strong, happy Prince Bardya. That was years ago when I lived in Hamadan and my father was a soldier of the palace-guard under the noble Otanes. I also know the regent, Patatheites, whom Cambyses, the Great King, left to rule in Medea. O gracious lady, it breaks my heart to tell you! But I know that Bardya, your brother, is dead and this one who calls himself Bardya is none other than Gaumata, priest of the Magi, whose ears Cyrus, the Great King, cut off! I have seen Gaumata and Patatheites together. I know that Gaumata pretends to be Bardya. The chamberlain is one of his tribe. This great tower is a fire-worshiper’s shrine and on its top is an altar on which fire is kept burning. I know not why I tell you this, except that when I look upon your face I love and worship you. O that I might save you! I fear this prison is intended to be your tomb!”
Athura sat very still during this revelation. Her head seemed to reel. The earth and all her golden castles seemed whirling and falling. Of course Bardya would have come to meet her! She knew the girl was telling the truth. Fool, to be so easily beguiled! Bardya really dead! The old sorrow resurged in her soul. Death or worse her fate! She sat still and silent a long time in wide-eyed despair while the maid at her feet with bowed head wept bitterly. Presently she sighed deeply and asked, “Why do you weep, little sister?”
“Because of your cruel fate, gracious lady,” replied the maid. “You know not the magic power of these priests! Even now they may know that I have told this to you and even now they may be preparing the torture chamber for me. They are terrible men! They deal with the demons of the hills and mountains. They sacrifice to them, even offering up human lives sometimes. They are able to read one’s thoughts. They bring up the dead and make them talk. Only Ahura-Mazda can protect you, and I know not if He will!”
“Be comforted, child,” said Athura, calmly. “Let us escape in some manner. Once before I fled from a prison when Cambyses would have slain me. Is there no way of escape?”
“I know of none. These walls have secret doors. I have seen Gaumata appear in these rooms even without opening a door. But he is a magician. I do not know the secret doors. If we could escape from this castle, the great wall and its watch is there.”
“You said that your father is captain of the guard. Might he not assist us?”
“I know not. He fears the Magi. His father was a tenant of this Gaumata who, for his faithfulness, has promised him great fortune and a high command. But he is a brave man and a good father.”
“Such a man must have a good heart. We shall talk with him presently.”
“But these magicians,—is it not useless to strive against them? They look one in the eye and point their fingers and say, ‘You are a dog! Bark!’ And that one gets down on his hands and acts like a dog and barks. Or they will say to you that at a certain hour you must do something they order; and, at that hour, you must do it! They put spells on men, and such men thereafter have no power. Oh, it is dreadful, how at night they call up and talk with the dead. The evil spirits help them.”
“I have seen their spell-working, child. But this I know, as the great teacher, Belteshazzer, said, they can do no harm to those who love truth and serve the true and only God. For He sends mighty spirits of good intent who encamp about the good and who drive away the evil ones. Fear not, child, I dread not this Gaumata and all his evil powers. He shall not harm us. When does your father have liberty so that he might come to us?”
“At sundown he changes the guard. Thereafter he may come.”
The girl went to a window and looked down into the court below. She then clapped her hands softly and motioned to some one below.
“Ah, there he stands now!” she said. “He has looked up and will come here. I will meet him.”
She ran down the narrow stair, and presently her voice and the heavier tones of a man’s voice were heard in conversation. Athura seated herself on a divan in such position that the rays of the setting sun, passing through the open window, rested upon her face and hair, giving to her regal beauty a halo like that of a goddess. A moment later the maid reappeared, followed by a powerfully built man whose helmet and breastplate were resplendent in gold and jewels. His face was strong and bold, the countenance of one accustomed to command, but now it was clouded and sullen.
“This is my father, Gustasp, gracious mistress,” said the maid, presenting him.
The man looked an instant into the eyes of the Princess. Then his hand quickly removed his helmet. Wonder, admiration, recognition, and awe expressed themselves in his countenance. He prostrated himself at her feet. He had known the kingly Cyrus and the high glance of his eye, before which the most rebellious of men had quailed; and here was the image of Cyrus, softened and beautified in the feminine, but, none the less, with his lofty, commanding spirit, gazing upon him from eyes whose glance he could not return.
“Hail, gracious daughter of Cyrus!” he mumbled, striking the rug-covered floor with his forehead. “I await your commands!”
“I have seen you before, Captain Gustasp, when my father lived and Bardya, my brother, and I played in the park at Hamadan. Is it not so? Arise and answer!”
The soldier rose and stood in deferential attitude before his fair interlocutor.
“I remember, most royal lady,” he stammered.
“If I mistake not I rode on that broad back of yours, and you made for me a right-spirited horse.”
The strong features of the soldier quivered as memory brought back those days, when he, as one of the guards on duty at the King’s palace, not only watched over the safety of the children of the King but played with them. Halcyon days! The tears started to his eyes.
“And now I am your prisoner!”
Again the man fell with his face to the floor. “Say not so, Queen of the World!” he exclaimed. “Rather am I your humble slave. If you will let me speak, I will explain.”
“Say on!”
He raised his head from the floor but continued to kneel, while he spoke rapidly: “After I returned from the funeral of the royal Cyrus, I was not in favor with the Great King, Cambyses. His dislike for me arose when he and your royal brother, Bardya, and you, played together as children and, by the express order of good King Cyrus, I watched that Cambyses did not use violence upon you and the younger brother. He swore, then, that when he came to man’s estate I should die. When, therefore, the guards were called to Hamadan and dismissed by him, I fled; and, luckily, I escaped before his order for my execution could be fulfilled. I came to these mountains and was concealed by the Magian priests who had been friends of my father. Then I heard, gracious lady, that both you and Prince Bardya had been foully murdered by King Cambyses; and I wept much. For I loved you and Bardya when you were children. For me the light of the world grew dim. Wonder not, therefore, that I willingly served Gaumata when he overthrew Cambyses. Had not Cambyses slain those I loved and also sought to slay me? I did not know you when you entered here yesterday. You were veiled. My information was that the King’s wife was coming hither; and I dreamed not that you were she. May Ahriman wither my soul if I speak not the truth!”
His daughter sank upon the floor by her father’s side, exclaiming, “Truly he speaks truth, gracious mistress!”
A wave of sympathy swept over the beautiful countenance of the Princess. Impulsively she arose, bent over, and touched the man’s forehead with her hand, saying: “I believe you, my good Gustasp. Ah, those were pleasant days, the days of my childhood. But they have gone to return no more. The bloody hand of death has taken my father and brothers. Only I, of all the royal house of Cyrus, remain; and I am a prisoner to this man, Gaumata. But what now? To whom, O Gustasp, do you owe allegiance?”
The man did not hesitate. “There is only one sovereign on earth for me, the divine daughter of Cyrus!” he answered passionately. “Had I not believed you dead, I would never have entered the service of Gaumata.”
“I am in your hands. What do you advise?”
“You are safe in my hands, gracious Queen! I will guard you with my life. But I am slow of wit and not good at making plans. I can execute orders but not make them.”
Athura smiled upon the kneeling giant.
“You may arise and be seated there near the door,” she said. “Let us think of some plan. How many men have you in this castle?”
Gustasp rose and sat on a stool near the door.
“Four hundred and twenty,” he answered.
“Are they trustworthy?”
“Not against Gaumata. They are his personal followers. But they are a brave and reckless lot. Some of them have been brigands all their lives, until called hither by the new King’s order.”
“It is apparent to you, Captain Gustasp, that I am no friend of this Gaumata. I have been brought here by lying letters purporting to be from my brother, Bardya, and I knew not the truth until your daughter revealed it to me. Doubtless I have been brought here to suffer death. For, as long as one of the house of Cyrus remain, so long will the usurper be insecure on his throne. I remember Gaumata. I saw him during the last year of Cyrus and I heard of his punishment. Now has come his revenge! But I shall escape. There is one who comes from the west as swiftly as horses may bring him. Do you remember the youth who played with us in those days? That grave youth who was a man even before he was old enough to enlist in the King’s guards—Darius, son of Hystaspis, King of Iran?”
“I remember him. Has not his fame filled the whole earth? All young Aryans swear by him!”
“True! Had not Cambyses cruelly interfered, I would this day be his wife. He took an oath to Cyrus, my father, to support Cambyses and Bardya on their thrones, as long as they should live. Death has released him from the oath. It may not be that I shall reign alone as Queen, since it is contrary to the customs of the Aryans. The King of Iran is now the head of the Achæmenian royal family and entitled to reign as King of the Aryans. When he shall pass the bridge to heaven, the Prince of Iran will be King. The world will then know a just and mighty master. And I shall reign with him. Then, Gustasp, I may be able to reward faithful service. Is it not possible for me to escape? I escaped from Cambyses alone, disguised as a youth. Have you not a horse that I might ride away upon this night?”
Gustasp was troubled. He gazed thoughtfully out of the window a moment in silence. The red rim of the sun was disappearing behind a distant ridge.
“This is a wild portion of Medea,” he said presently. “Brigands roam about. Traveling without a large escort is dangerous. It is now almost night. For a week there can be no danger to you here. I am in command of the Guard. It will not be so much a prison for you as a place of safety. To-morrow I will send to the hills for one who owes his life to me. I saved him from the wrath of Gaumata, who had ordered me to execute him. This man will I send with a message to your friends. He may bring help. The chamberlain of the castle is a priest of the Magi. He was in the room below as we came through. He is here as your guard, I suppose. But this night I shall sleep at the foot of this stairway and keep watch over you. You are weary and must have sleep. My daughter, if you will, shall watch with me. Perhaps to-morrow we may think of a better plan.”
Athura rose and went to the window, where she stood some moments in silence, contemplating the forbidding aspect of the darkening hills and considering the words of the captain. She was, indeed, weary. She therefore signified her assent to the suggestion, and the captain retired. His daughter remained with the Princess. The captain that night slept on the floor of the room below, with his body across the doorway leading to the chamber above and his sword at his side.