CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
FOR REASONS OF STATE—ORONDO ESPOUSES ILDIKO
Three months intervened between the betrothal announcement, immediately after Ildiko’s consent was obtained, and the beginning of the wedding festival, which lasted thirty days. This brought the actual consummation down to the time in October when the sun and moon were in conjunction.
Those were happy days for Ildiko, who was in a flutter of excitement from morning until night over the preparation of her trousseau. Everything necessary for her comfort was furnished in sets of twelve.
There were exquisitely ornamented terra-cotta jars provided for each of her dresses, which were placed in a row around the walls of her room, much more suggestive of tea than of a wardrobe.
For the ceremony in the Temple of Venus there was a creation of vivid yellow, wrought in heavy bands of silk embroidery and tawny gold. The veil to match was of the finest yellow gauze, worked with floss and glitter until it was like a cobweb with the sun shining through it. The material of the gown was that of rare, fine texture which writers are always drawing through a finger-ring.
In the voluminous skirt, at least twenty yards of gossamer silk had been used, but the effect was soft, clinging and graceful in the extreme. The waist was like an Eton jacket, too short to reach the skirt, and had half-length sleeves. The substitute for material at the waist line was a broad girdle of jewels.
Orondo himself superintended the making of this article. It would be his privilege to unclasp it on the nuptial night and hang it outside the bridal chamber, as a pledge of his wife’s honor. It was not a straight band, but broadened over the hips, and was sacred to Venus, the love planet.
The second of the bridal robes was of scarlet silk, almost covered with gold-thread embroidery, in which precious stones were skillfully imbedded. With it was provided a red gauze veil edged with gold fringe. Both gowns were fashioned alike, except that the red skirt was narrower, and finished in a long train edged with peacock feathers, which hung as a mantle from the shoulders.
As soon as the city was decorated, and during the entire thirty days’ preliminary festivities, Ildiko wore simple white, destitute of ornament.
She did not appear in public, except in going to and from the Temple of Venus, where she greeted the rising sun every morning and offered special prayers on behalf of her new duties.
Orondo made similar supplication at the same hour in the Temple of Mars. Though not a demonstrative man, he was careful to observe all the niceties of his position.
When with Ildiko, his countenance bespoke contentment; and at some of her witty sallies his face would light up with a rare smile. She was all bustle and excitement, and made heavy demands upon her bridesman, Yermah.
Ildiko was neither resentful nor sensitive. When the Dorado took her hand, and begged forgiveness because of his seeming disloyalty, her sympathies went out to him, and she impulsively told him that she honored his choice. She loved Kerœcia too, she said, and hoped that this mutual affection would prove a strong bond between them.
Setos was in his glory. He strutted about the city officiously, and assumed a dictatorial manner, in the Council Chambers, which was tolerated in a good-natured way. Setos was also allowed to indulge himself in several flights of fancy not strictly in accordance with facts.
With his thumbs in his arm-holes and his conical hat set well back on his head, he unbosomed himself to Rahula, whose adroit flattery now fell upon very willing ears.
He was paternal and patronizing to Alcamayn, who was galled almost beyond endurance by what he fancied were the pitying glances of his fellows.
Alcamayn angrily told himself that he was not in love with Ildiko; but he was keenly sensible of the fact that a bachelor was not only taxed—he was looked down upon.
The jeweler knew that there was no chance for promotion so long as he remained single; but his own vanity and Rahula’s insidious teaching made him hold himself entirely aloof from alliance with any but a pure-blooded Atlantian.
His share in the preparations was wholly perfunctory, a situation not lost upon Orondo, whose delicacy deterred him from seeking advice on the nuptial ring and girdle.
Alcamayn himself was keenly alert on these very points. When he purposely wandered in where the workmen were putting on the finishing touches, he was so exasperated that he could with difficulty restrain himself.
Day by day his irritation grew, fanned by injudicious remarks, insinuations and exaggerated reports of Orondo’s devotion.
Divining something of this, Ildiko often inquired concerning him, and sent many messages by Rahula. Now that she was having her own way, she was very amiable to the other woman. Rahula’s sad face, and what Ildiko imagined Alcamayn must suffer, added to her own high spirits. So it was that shallow-brained, selfish Ildiko enjoyed being the center of attraction, and accepted as justly her due the thousand and one courtesies the time and situation showered upon her.
Not even a vague suspicion of her lover’s former attachment crossed her mind.
Northeast from the center of Tlamco was the Temple of Venus, set apart for marriage and all domestic affairs. It was here that the vestal virgins lived, and taught the young children. It was an oval-shaped structure, with rows of pillars inside, supporting a convex-domed roof of colored glass. The pillars were ornamented elaborately with stucco, rainbow-tinted, each one showing a solid color. The interstices between had mirrors with beaten copper frames placed over the glass itself. The tessellated floor was of black marble, the vessels of exquisitely hammered silver, while the altars were of onyx on copper bases. Passion-flowers, gillyflowers and hollyhocks, emblems of fecundity, were employed in the decorations of the temple for the wedding. Ivy, meaning fidelity; grasses, showing submission; heliotrope, for devotion; syringa and roses, for love, were freely intertwined about the pillars and altars.
On Friday, the day of love and marriage, no blood was allowed to be shed for food.
At the wedding, the vestments of Imos and his assistants were of azure, their ornaments of polished copper, their head garlands of white and red roses, and they carried myrtle and olive branches.
Apple-green and pale rose were the colors of the canopy placed in the southern niche, under which the ceremony took place. It was an open, flaring triangle with a lamp in the apex, having the pedestal of iron, the joint of brass, the bowl of silver, and the center of gold. It had two arms, composed of three metals interlaced in such a manner as to leave a triple conduit for oil.
There were nine wicks; three in the middle, and three in each arm. The lower rim of the pedestal represented a serpent, while the globe was large and double, having compartments filled with colored waters and perfumed so that the air was cool and fragrant.
The lamp was on a revolving standard of polished wood, and at its base were three smoking incense-jars of burnished bronze.
Early on the morning of the wedding, a brilliant pageant formed in front of Setos’s house and marched through the principal streets. It consisted of beasts of burden, and tamanes, loaded with presents for the bride, and also carrying her belongings to Iaqua.
First came the jewel bearers, armed to the teeth, escorted by cavalrymen, brandishing broadswords and performing many feats of horsemanship and skill.
This was followed by a cavalcade of burros, laden with scented jars and baskets containing the trousseau, which had kept half of Tlamco industriously occupied for three months.
The presents came from military, naval and civil guilds; from the priesthood, from the vestals, and from the children and the aged.
Poets walked in front of them reciting odes, and the musicians performed special compositions in honor of the occasion.
As soon as the procession turned into the beautifully decorated avenue leading to Iaqua, the populace hastened to the Temple of Venus.
It was also the signal for Orondo, with Setos on one side and Hanabusa on the other, to issue from the eastern entrance of the official residence. His warrior dress of white kid was rich in golden bosses, bands and fringes. Over his shoulders hung the green feather mantle of his rank, held in place by shoulder medallions of brilliants.
On his head was a tall liberty cap of white kid, ornamented with gold filigree, and having three quetzal feathers in the apex. He doffed his head-covering at the temple door, exposing a simple gold band over his hair.
Setos and Hanabusa wore a silver and green combination, ornate with eagle’s feathers and embroidery. They carried large bouquets of roses, and supported the sword and shield of the bridegroom.
Behind them, in single file, carrying a jeweled lantern in each hand, came Alcamayn, Ben Hu Barabe, Cezardis, and twenty-two young officers of the highest rank, in full regimentals, followed by the representative men of Tlamco, with the priesthood and councilors of state in the lead.
Their wives stood in line in front of Setos’s house, waiting to perform the same service for Ildiko.
“Blessed be he that cometh!” shouted the people in the streets.
“Blessed indeed is he!” responded Orondo’s escort.
“Haille! Haille! Haille!” they shouted together.
Then the same formula was repeated.
The first greeting and exchange brought Ildiko to the door. She glanced about her half-fearfully, and seemed in need of Yermah’s supporting arm.
In addition to the yellow robe already described, she wore a mantle of yellow brocaded with silver and gold, which swept the ground far behind her.
For the last time in her life would she be permitted to wear her hair flowing, and its gold band, an exact duplicate of the one Orondo wore, was the only ornament, save a crown of white lilies, attesting her purity of heart. Strand after strand of pearls wound around her neck; bangles and bracelets dangled at her slender wrists; but her small white hands were uncovered, and her fingers were unadorned.
Yermah wore pale blue cloth embroidered with silver stars and bands, and a blue cap, with silver ornaments and white plumes. His mantle was of plain white silk. From his left arm swung a large reticule of silver cloth crusted with turquoise, containing the yellow gauze wedding-veil.
Supporting the train of the bride’s mantle came Rahula, in a purple robe, elaborately worked with a pattern of leaves in pale metallic green, outlined in delicately frosted silver. The jacket was lined with green, and the undervest was a mass of silver and jewels.
Beside her was Alcyesta, in a lavender robe. Iridescent bead embroideries set with amethysts, and copper ornaments in quaint symbolic design, such as the Monbas were wont to employ, made a pleasing contrast to the rows of vestals and priestesses in pure white.
Two fierce-looking fencers led the way, followed by hundreds of children, who scattered roses along the pathway, or accepted some of the nuts and small cakes given out by the bride’s orders on all the thoroughfares.
A delegation of priests barred the entrance and stopped Orondo on the threshold. As soon as Ildiko joined him, he purchased an ear of corn of Setos, handing him an eagle-quill of gold. Turning to Ildiko he asked:
“Dost thou wish to be mother of my household?”
“Yes,” she answered, and proceeded to buy a similar ear of corn from Yermah, paying the same price for it. Then she turned to Orondo and asked:
“Hast thou the wish to be father of my household?”
“Yes,” he asseverated, solemnly. Taking the ear of corn he had purchased, he handed it to her, saying:
“Where love and harmony dwell, I am master.”
Ildiko gave Orondo her purchase as she replied:
“Where thou art master, I am mistress.”
They both began to twist roses and myrtle and olive branches into a garland wrapped with gold and silver wires, as a symbol of their blending lives. Still weaving, they advanced slowly down the aisle, and paused before the canopy, while harps and voices blended in a bridal hymn.
Setos stood beside Orondo, while Yermah supported Ildiko.
When the music ceased the priests and vestals chanted in unison:
“We give thee myriads of years. Like the moon advancing to the full; like the sun ascending to the heavens; like the everlasting southern hills; like the luxuriance of the fir and cypress—never waning, never failing!—may such be thy succeeding lines.”
“Om—ah! Om—ah! Om—ah!” murmured the four at the altar.
“Orondo, servant of the Most High,” said Imos impressively, “art thou in any way related to this maiden by ties of blood, intimate or remote?”
“The silken cords of affection are all that bind me here.”
“Dost thou swear this by the sacred fire on the altar before thee?”
“I do.” Orondo spoke firmly.
When the high-priest had asked the same questions and received the same responses from Ildiko, he continued:
“Orondo, on thy honor as a man, is the solemn covenant thou art about to make voluntary on thy part?”
“It is.”
Ildiko gave the same assurance.
Imos handed Orondo the marriage-band, which was so large he could slip it over his right hand and then clasp Ildiko’s easily. It was a broad circlet of silver set with turquoise, lapis lazuli, and beryl.
“In the name of the Trinity, I command thee, Orondo, and thee, Ildiko, to join right hands and seal thy promise of fidelity with a kiss.”
As they obeyed, Yermah, Setos, and Imos covered them with the gauze veil, murmuring blessings in the name of the three divine attributes. Yermah knelt before the twain and said:
“Orondo, my beloved, I give unto thee this damsel adorned with jewels and protected by the Lord of Creatures.”
“So be it.”
Setos knelt beside Yermah and said in a tremulous voice:
“Orondo, beloved, I give to thee my only begotten, to be thine honor and thy wife; to keep thy keys and share with thee thy joys and sorrows.”
“Let them be trampled upon and confounded who maliciously endeavor to create ill-will between us,” answered Orondo, loud enough to be heard throughout the temple.
Rahula involuntarily gave Alcamayn an apprehensive glance.
That young man stared straight ahead of him with blood-shot eyes and a dull, half-foolish expression. He did not seem to hear Imos, when he said:
“By the power vested in me, I unite and bind thee, Orondo, and thee, Ildiko, one to the other. Live ye in peace.”
Lifting their veil he anointed their foreheads and wrists with unguent. Then he carefully drew a gold thread from the bride’s mantle and another from the groom’s, and tied them together. He handed the knot to Ildiko, saying:
“Be this always a sign of indissoluble union.”
Picking up a sprig of ivy, Setos bound it across Orondo’s forehead, adding:
“Be this a similar token unto thee.”
Receiving a cup of mead from the hands of an assistant, he blessed it, drank of it, and passed the libation to the newly married couple.
After Ildiko took a sip, she threw the cup on the floor, and as she did so every unmarried man in the temple followed her example by dashing into pieces a porcelain, glass or pottery vessel, as a signal of renunciation.
The bridal party filed out of the temple to the music of harps and flutes. There was an eager wish to witness the leave-taking of the bride and bridegroom, who formally separated at the door and returned to their respective homes until nightfall. Then the bride would enter Iaqua in state, and the matrimonial coronation would take place.
“Impatience lends wings to my desire, Ildiko,” whispered Orondo. “I long for thee incessantly. Come quickly.”
“Only this poor body is absent from thy side, Orondo. Thy wish is but an echo of my thought.”
“From meridian to sunset is a lifetime in the history of love,” said Orondo, as he glanced at the unclouded sky overhead. “Oh, misery! that I must leave thee!”
“Thou art a flattering and indulgent husband,” responded Ildiko, smiling up into his face affectionately.
He stood uncovered, and waited for her to pass on; then he turned ever and anon on his way back to Iaqua, waving his hand to her, until Ildiko reached her father’s house.
The lanterns, banners and flags flapped lazily in the breeze or sunned themselves listlessly. There was a grand naval demonstration on the bay, an exchange of shots by the mangonels in the forts, and a review of warriors on parade.
The citizens young and old made various senseless noises in their exuberance of spirits, while the Chief Councilmen went into session immediately to await the announcement of the formal resignation of Yermah and the taking of the oath of office by Orondo.
It was not without a sinking heart that Yermah had given up his old habits of life. It cost him many pangs to abandon his quarters; and for days he had that houseless, homeless feeling inseparable from removal to new surroundings.
Orondo pleaded long and earnestly that he would still reside at Iaqua. The Dorado steadily refused. He would content himself with the unpretentious quarters of Akaza in the Temple of Neptune.
With his own hands, he took an inventory of all things pertaining to his office, the jewels, the horses, trappings and chariots.
He removed nothing except his personal effects, and, as a wedding present, he gave Orondo his last state mantle—the one he had worn on Kerœcia’s birthday.
Orondo still had the garment on his shoulders, and would wear it in the Hall of Embassadors, when he solemnly pledged his life and sacred honor to the service of the Azes.
Later in the day, there was feasting and rejoicing in all the community houses, the institutions and barracks, as well as in the homes.
Enthroned under a canopy of scarlet, Ildiko sat out the afternoon, surrounded by her family and friends. It was her formal leave-taking of girlhood days, and her eyes filled with tears as she slowly passed from one room to another.
She yielded to a fit of weeping when she reached the door of her own room, and saw that in her absence it had been denuded of all her possessions.
“Oh, my father!” she cried, “is it possible that thou wilt turn me out of thy heart as well as out of thy house?”
She threw herself across the foot of her bed, and sobbed convulsively.
Rahula brought her father, and by a sign motioned the others to leave them. Setos gave her a grateful look as she closed the door, but it was a long time before he could speak. He sat motionless and helpless until Ildiko could get command of her overwrought nerves, and then he soothed and quieted her as best he could.
Rahula returned presently with a sleeping potion, but the bride refused to drink it.
“Let me remember every hour of this day,” she pleaded, and so had her way.
As the sun went down the bride arose, and performed anew her ablutions, and prayed with fervor and abandon. Then she arrayed herself in scarlet, and wound herself up in the voluminous red veil with as much skill and ingenuity as possible, so that her husband might find it difficult to see her face, since it was his task to unwind it, as soon as she crossed the threshold of Iaqua.
With the appearance of the evening star, came the state chariot drawn by four spirited bays, ready to carry her to her new home. The whole city seemed to be alive with torches and lanterns, which rivaled the brilliant illumination overhead, as Ildiko, accompanied by Yermah and her father, stepped into the vehicle.
The populace ran alongside, singing bridal songs and shouting good wishes into her ears. Little cakes, nuts, and bouquets were thrown from the chariot as souvenirs, while the blare of trumpets added to the general noise and confusion.
All the notables of Tlamco were assembled at Iaqua to welcome the bride. A very timid, frightened little morsel of humanity she was, as Orondo carried her into the house.
She had intended to make a great show of resistance when he attempted to remove her veil; but she was so dazed that she lost all presence of mind, and actually helped him.
With grave sweet tenderness, Orondo freed her from entanglement, and led her in triumph to the dais prepared for them, where for the next two hours they received congratulations.
When divested of their mantles, the bride and groom led the dancing, and with it Ildiko’s spirits rose. It was her privilege to challenge any swain in the company, and he was obliged to follow her through the maze of whirling dancers until he should succeed in capturing the illusive veil she occasionally tossed at him.
As soon as the formal change was danced with Orondo, she threw the veil over Alcamayn’s shoulder. He was a splendid dancer, and she knew that he would give her ample opportunity to display her own skill.
Round and round they went—he in hot pursuit, she alert to provoke and yet escape him.
At last, panting with exertion, she suffered him to touch the gauze, and then the dancers rushed away to get something to drink and to recover their breath.
No precaution was taken to prevent over-indulgence in the use of the liquids, because it was considered a crime punishable with death if any one came to harm through excess of this kind.
The high-priest, Imos, first proposed and drank the health of the bride and groom. Then came Hanabusa, who did the same for the navy; Setos performed a similar office for the civil authorities; Ben Hu Barabe, for the lost and loved ones; Cezardis, for the stranger within the gates; after which friends of each saluted and offered a libation to their future.
Abstemious by nature, Orondo did little more than touch the various liquors with his lips, but Ildiko quenched thirst freely, and soon the heat and excitement began to tell on her.
Nothing escaped the eagle eye of Alcamayn.
Ildiko had sought to appease him by a show of preference in selecting him to dance, but he resented it as a mean attempt on her part to parade his humiliation. Before coming into the ballroom, he had taken a copious drink of hemp and opium, and had purposely selected the wine of maguey (mescal) for his toast.
Now this fiery liquid mounted to his infuriated brain, and he was positive that every one in the room was thinking how badly he had been treated, and secretly deriding him for not seeking revenge.—Revenge! That was it! But he had come prepared.
Red and white lines mingled with the pockmarks, and his misshapen body seemed to writhe like a snake under the goad of his malicious thoughts.
He was growing noisy and boisterous; so much so that his companions tried to prevent him from approaching the bride, but he angrily refused to heed them.
“Come on!” he loudly proclaimed. “She is a discarded love of mine, who still adores me. Come on, and I will prove her! She shall give me her wedding ring—the one Orondo made with his own hands!”
Ben Hu Barabe, Hanabusa, Yermah and Cezardis closed in around him, but he broke away from their restraint and boldly bantered Ildiko for an exchange of rings. He had the face of a fiend, as he said:
“Wilt thou not, for old times’ sake, give me one of thy little rings in return for one of mine? Choose among these,” he continued, holding up a hand loaded with beautiful gems, quaintly set.
She looked at him unsteadily, simpered foolishly and was about to make some maudlin reply, when Orondo, white with anger, whispered to her:
“Make the exchange quickly. Thou art under observation.”
Startled by his tone, and only half-comprehending the situation, Ildiko slipped off her wedding ring, a flat silver band covered with an intricate gold interlaced filigree. Without looking at it, she handed it to Alcamayn, receiving from him a diamond marquise for her little finger.
“What did I tell thee!” cried the hunchback triumphantly. “Thou knowest the pledge that goes with this? Poor Orondo! I envy thee not!”
Alcamayn turned with a sneer on his ugly face, just as Orondo, who had risen, made a pass at him with his sword. The weapon went wide of its mark, but the outraged husband lurched forward, and fell heavily to the floor, before the horrified spectators could offer assistance.
Yermah raised the fallen head, and as he did so blood spurted from the half-open mouth. Orondo groaned and shivered. His breath came in one stertorous gasp, and all was still.
“It is death!” cried Yermah, in alarm, “death, sudden and terrible! My poor friend!” he repeated, as Setos leaned over and peered into the ashen countenance. Hanabusa hustled Alcamayn roughly, but held him in a vise-like grip.
“Thou art a murderer,” he exclaimed, “and must answer well for this! Thou art my prisoner!”
The high-priest, Imos, assisted Yermah to lift the dead man, and Setos stood near Ildiko.
The bride was still toying with Alcamayn’s ring, and giggling hideously to herself, utterly unconscious of the tragedy being enacted before her.
Rahula fluttered between the two principals. She could not comprehend what had happened, and began to shriek hysterically when iron bands were placed on Alcamayn’s neck and wrists.
The panic-stricken guests departed hurriedly, while warriors surrounded the house, and no one was allowed to enter under any pretext whatever.
All eye-witnesses were put under oath, and an armed guard soon filled the room.
Ildiko was kept under surveillance, and Setos found his movements closely watched.
The news went through the city like wild-fire, and the excitement kept the streets alive all night, while the death-watchers sat with the linen-swathed body of Orondo.