CHAPTER EIGHT
A COVETED SPOT AND A PRICELESS TREASURE
The Hall of Ambassadors at Iaqua was still the scene of an animated discussion.
There were groups of scribes, runners and astrologers excitedly examining maps and charts, while knots of citizens gathered around the old men and heard from their lips the particulars. Some were priests, others were treasure keepers, judges and councilors; but one and all were disposed to stand by the records.
Patient, respectful tamanes glided noiselessly here and there, opening and placing some of the books on the tables ready for inspection, while they closed and carried others back to the vaulted recesses where they had been under lock and key since the foundation of Tlamco. Some of the manuscripts were on cotton cloth, others were of carefully prepared skins, tanned and dressed until soft as silk.
For ages the Indians have known how to prepare superior chamois. When they tan a skin it looks like soft, pliant yellow velvet and has an odor peculiar to itself. These qualities are imparted by smoking it thoroughly over a fire composed of certain herbs. Rain has no effect upon well-tanned Indian buckskin. This is why an Indian moccasin is always as yielding as cloth, while as thick and soft as felt.
A composition of gum and silk tissue made by a process known to-day by the Japanese and Chinese was invariably used by the Monbas for the transcription of public documents. Their books were bound with blocks of polished wood, and folded together, like a fan. These surfaces were inscribed on both sides so that the writing was continuous, ending where it began, but on the opposite side of the same square.
Around Ben Hu Barabe, the Civil Chief of the Monbas, were a number of Monbas warriors in full coats of mail and side arms. Setos mingled freely with them and appeared to espouse their side of the controversy, while Akaza conversed in subdued tones with Eko Tanga, the tall, fierce-looking, but well-mannered emissary from the Ians. Yermah had that freedom and grace of movement born in natural leaders, and there was an unconscious recognition of this quality wherever he went among the disputants.
A young Monbas warrior stood near him and leaned intently over the neatly inscribed parchment rolls bearing the official seal of Atlantis. The leaves of maguey and agave had been used in the fabrication of this beautiful paper.
“These measurements and observations were taken shortly after the shaping of Hotara (Lone Mountain), and before the surrounding tumuli had been finished,” said Yermah.
He was seated at a round table in the center of the room in an entirely characteristic pose. One foot was drawn well back and poised on the toes, while the other was thrust forward but little in advance of the knee and leg. On his head a single band of filigree gold was relieved by a carbuncle of rare brilliancy which sparkled warm and glowing in the medallion center.
The Dorado’s cloth-of-gold cloak, lined with scarlet and black brocade, was thrown carelessly back from his shoulders, and his thumb, which grasped the edge of the table to balance his body, as he leaned forward eagerly, was banded by a curiously wrought signet ring. There was masculinity and strength in the jewel which was the only ornament on the virile hand.
“Our ancestors knew these things well,” answered the warrior after a minute examination.
“The city was young then. But I see no reason why the accuracy of this work should be questioned. I hope that Ben Hu Barabe may be induced to see it so.”
“The scale is one one-hundred-millionths, and shows the diameter of all the planets from Hotara. There has been but little variation in eccentricity of orbits since,” declared Yermah, now busy with computations, which he made by using an abacus, as the Chinese have always done.
Ben Hu Barabe still studied his maps and charts. He was industriously making deductions from the highly colored picture-writing, though the cloth on which they were painted was yellow and musty with age. His calculations were from Las Papas as a center. In present day reckoning the radius extended from Clarendon Heights along the coast to Pescadero Point; then to Santa Cruz and Point Reyes. From these observations the first surveys were made, and it was from these markings that the treaties had been negotiated between the Monbas and the Atlantians when the latter colonists first came.
“It is not easy to ascertain the date of our computations and measurements,” said Ben Hu Barabe. “But the land in dispute is not much, at any rate. If Eko Tanga insists that his government has some unsettled claim against the Monbas, I am willing that thou shouldst decide it,” he said to Yermah.
“The difference is considerable between the calculation of one one-hundred millionths and one of one-fifty millionths. And there is a variance between The Twins and Hotara as central points,” Yermah replied. “In my time the place of the sun in the center of Tlamco has been the point of vantage. Computations of the diameters of the heavenly hosts are here accurately given.”
“From the beginning until now, the Monbas have reckoned all their happenings by this picture,” said Ben Hu Barabe, his voice again showing signs of irritation. “It is held in our inner hearts with profound reverence, and it is a vexation of spirit to have it questioned. Eko Tanga has little respect for the traditions and pride of the mountain people.”
“The high-priestess Kerœcia, will then lend us her counsel,” said Yermah, soothingly. “She is of the blood of Ian, but she loves the Monbas well. Her serene countenance confronts us,” he added hastily, as the crowd separated to make room for the high-priestess and the entire party from the gardens.
Every woman knows that it was not the fresh air, only, which gave the color to Kerœcia’s cheek, and made her eyes sparkle like tiny stars as she permitted Yermah to conduct her to a seat beside him under the grand canopy. All Tlamco had a feeling of satisfaction in the manner and the method of his escort. Some time elapsed before either could sufficiently acknowledge the applause spontaneously given; but when the Dorado held up his hand commanding silence, the stillness was absolute.
“Comrades and friends, a difference of opinion exists between the emissary of Ian, Eko Tanga, and Ben Hu Barabe, Chief of the Monbas, as to the hereditary rights of each to the lands now held by the Azes. Before our beloved Tlamco rested among the seven hills, there were wise men who noted the ways of the sun, and his attendants, and decreed that thus far, and no farther should the limits extend. No one disputed the rights of the Monbas. They made The Twins their own, and no one murmured. Then appeared the hordes of Ian. They came through the trackless forest of the Aleuts, following the warm tide southward. The snow-peaks of Elias, Tacoma, and Shasta[5] pointed the way and after many days they came to the end of the Monbas possessions.”
Among the Monbas there was a tempestuous wave of displeasure against the revival of old scores and the ill-will was as heartily returned by Eko Tanga’s attendants. As for principles, their faces effectually masked the feelings while they gave Yermah their undivided attention.
“Here they found an amicable agreement between these brave men and the children of Atlantis,” continued Yermah, conscious of the under-current of feeling. “It makes my heart glad to tell how the Azes and the Monbas have always been friends.”
“Haille! Haille!” shouted his hearers, with one voice. “Haille! Haille!”
Satisfied that the ebullition of temper had safely spent itself, the Dorado boldly stated the point in dispute.
“It pleased the leaders of the Azes to erect a new city on the ruins of an old abandoned temple site, and they re-surveyed the vicinity from Mount Hotara. Like the Monbas sages, they had counsel of the heavenly bodies, and found the degree of prophecy fulfilled in the markings. It were a wearisome task to hear all of the things done at that time, but the Monbas and the Azes feel that they were well done.”
Again the unspoken words reached his ears and the upturned faces before him beamed with satisfaction.
“The Monbas reckoned from The Twins to a smaller scale, but they took cognizance of the stars. Time has altered the bearings; but truth was in the beginning and must prevail in the end. Due allowance was then made for the failure of agreement between the new and the old reckonings, and for the difference in the point of view. The treaty following, whereby the Monbas gave eternal consent to the designs of the Azes, has been a source of joy to the Azes always.”
“And to us,” assented the Monbas, with a clamorous noise.
“Our friend and brother, Eko Tanga,” continued Yermah, bowing to the Ians as he spoke, “comes with a claim against the decision of our ancestors. He denies the right of the Monbas to cede land to the Azes, since the Monbas came under allegiance to Ian, after the treaty was promulgated, and before the solemn covenant had record. The patient skill and industry of Atlantis has made this a garden spot, and the Ians desire recognition of their pretentions.
“The murmurings of the Monbas have softened the hearts of the Ians, and their king decrees that the Monbas shall be free from tribute and have dominion over the land claimed by them, provided they will release the princess and the high-priestess Kerœcia from bondage.”
Here the Monbas laughed derisively. Even Kerœcia smiled.
“It were unseemly of the Azes to interrupt their Servitor,” said Orondo, sternly, as he sprang to his feet and faced his people determinedly. The rebuke did not fail of effect.
The undulating walls in different portions of Tlamco represented the gyrations of the cosmic serpent, which is matter, and quaintly sets forth man’s incomings to, and out-goings from, material life. On a grand scale, the three points symbolized man’s redemption by harmonizing the three planes of existence. Religious sentiment, as well as race prejudice, had something to do with the hostile feeling prevalent in the factions.
“Sufficient purses have been exchanged to make trade even, but the boundaries still lie in dispute,” continued Yermah.
“Will the Dorado and these people hear me?” asked Eko Tanga, moved to speech.
“The safeguards of courtesy may be trusted thus far,” quickly responded Yermah. “Apply thine ear faithfully that thou mayst comprehend the truth,” he added, as he sat on a level with Kerœcia.
“A matter deserving close attention is the correction of the hazy, indistinct records by which certain lands are ceded,” declared Eko Tanga. “The increase in learning makes the measurements legitimately subject to inquiry, and I crave assistance from the wise men here assembled. All Tlamco reckons from its center, and observes the present houses of the firmament for confirmation. By careful estimate, there is yet some favor due my master from the Monbas. A covenant to remain south of Elias’s cone is all that the king desires. He is content to forego tribute or war service below this mountain.”
It was plain that there were voices in the multitude which favored the Ians. It was known that the Monbas originally came from Ian, and loyalty to fatherland was a sterling virtue of the Azes.
Setos, quick to turn an advantage to himself, came forward and claimed a hearing.
“The sacred traditions of past times,” he said, “lie deep in the hearts of the faithful, but justice demands much for posterity. The future is best served by full recognition of Monbas independence; they, in turn, must acquit themselves with honor. No man among the Azes desires to keep that which is not fairly won.”
“Dost thou dare to accuse us of unfairness?” cried Ben Hu Barabe, rising hastily.
“The Ians have long discoursed against the award of land made by us to the Azes. Much travail of spirit has befallen us because of our pledges to thy ancestry. Fie upon thee, for an ingrate!” he continued, hotly.
Yermah and Akaza were on their feet in an instant.
“Setos had spoken without consideration,” said Akaza, mildly. “No possible import of unfairness is due to either party here. The measurements are the only questions to consider. Now, as of old, the digit, the palm of the hand, the face, and the cubit are the only means of reckoning. The first joint of the finger is no longer; the middle of the palm no wider; the cubit from finger to elbow is the same. But the stars have changed their courses; even the zodiac has slipped its leashes. Man may profit by such example. Have done with this useless turmoil. Let the Ian have his due, and let the high-priestess Kerœcia, loose her own bonds.”
When he ceased speaking, the silence was intense.
“For this did I beseech thy presence,” said Yermah, aside to the agitated princess.
“We love the priestess Kerœcia, and we will obey her,” said Ben Hu Barabe, simply.
“The royal father and mother of the princess mourn continually. They beg and implore that she may be the light of their declining years. All Ian awaits an answer; and for that country I agree to abide by thy decision.” Eko Tanga bowed toward Kerœcia, appealingly.
Striving to govern her emotion, Kerœcia put out a trembling hand to Yermah, and suffered herself to be led forward where she could be both seen and heard. She buried her face in her hands for a moment, then lifted it pale and stricken, but resolute.
“My comrades and my countrymen, duty oppresses my heart profoundly. That I do love and honor these who gave me life need not be affirmed. All that my father demands, I hereby pledge the Monbas to render. For myself there is no peace apart from the duty I owe these children of the forest. They look to me for spiritual guidance, and I will not leave them.” Her voice faltered, and she seemed ready to faint.
In the interim of silence, Eko Tanga said: “So be it! So be it!”
“Tell my beloved father that I can best serve him here; and that as proof of my devotion, I pledge my people to lasting peace. Hast thou the treaty in readiness?”
She made no pretense of reading its provisions, but turned to Ben Hu Barabe, and said authoritatively: “Sign!”
He readily affixed his signature. Eko Tanga followed, and then Yermah made use of the high-set signet on his thumb.
And this was the beginning of the end.