CHAPTER II - SLAVES

The spring was still young, and answering to her coy invitation, the full­blooded Valley had decked himself in the soft, shimmering, festive garb so generously provided by an indulgent Year. Morning had scarcely lost sight of the retreating night, and over the distant snow-capped mountains the atmospheric tints were weaving combinations and effects such as only aerial nymphs can manipulate. The earth was carpeted with one vast floral design of beauty, in which the luxuriant and variegated foliage served to break an overpowering charm, and - strange paradox - by breaking give a finishing touch to perfect the landscape.

Standing upon the edge of a natural platform at the foot of the hills, midway along the valley, the full sweep of the panorama lies before us - the hills, the valley, and the vast theatre of the heavens, while the air is filled with the perfume matin chorus, rising as a grateful thank-offering from the heart of Nature.

Peeping like guilty trespassers in such a land of beauty, here and there may be discovered fragments of architecture lurking among the trees; but, except in two instances, builders - having ample means at their disposal - have thoughtfully refrained from any attempt to arrogantly insinuate their cumbrous products into the picture. The visible fragments, bright with vivid colourings, lend the suggestion of picturesque ruins, and as such, are most welcome and appropriate. But as yet architecture, borrowed from Egyptian and Babylonian styles, is crude, heavy, and disappointing, without the softening touch of over shadowing, half-concealing foliage, and defies the power of garish colouring to adequately relieve it of its sombre melancholy.

The two exceptions to this well-respected rule are the gymnasium and baths occupying the centre of the capital, and almost invisible, city of

Velia lying at our feet, and the palace of the Queen-mother on the platform behind us. This latter building may very appropriately be compared to a modern military fortification adapted to residential purposes gaining its right to be called a palace from its dimensions solely. On three sides it is approached by a long flight of broad steps, but at the rear its gardens stretch away to the hills and the artificial platform is lost sight of. The facade boasts of a cumbrous colonnade with a central porch formed by a line of cylindrical columns, decorated with brazen lotus­flower capitals, and painted in bands of vivid blue, yellow, and red; but every suggestion of the hieroglyph or artistic mural decoration has been rigorously eschewed. A broad tricolour band does duty for a cornice, and beneath this the whole building is painted in a monotonous buff, against which the columns of the portico stand out in striking contrast.

Between two of these ponderous monolyths stands a lady clad in white loosely flowing robes, her flaxen hair kissed into rippling sympathy with the sun, and her blue eyes sparkling with delight as she rejoices in the glories of the morning. Her petite figure is dwarfed out of all proportion in comparison with the wilderness of stone by which she is surrounded; but she takes a full and indisputable revenge by at once captivating and holding the attention, as a first-water gem will compel the admirer to forget the presence of its setting.

Still, the lady must not be mistaken for the Queen or Princess, neither, strictly speaking, may she be called a courtier, but a slave ! The trusted, honoured, confidential slave of her royal mistress - a slave at will and of her own free choice, since she refuses to accept her freedom - but yet a slave!

She had been purchased in the market of Susa when but little more than a child by the now dead consort of the Queen, as a present to his promised bride, and the nature of the girl being as pure and true as her face was handsome, she grew into the life of her royal mistress, and when the delicateness of youth developed into a continually increasing weakness of womanhood, it was to Tasha's care and confidence that the two children of the marriage were entrusted. The family was afterwards enlarged by the adoption of an orphaned niece; then the royal lady became a widow, from which time Tasha had been in more than name the foster-mother of the children. It was a strange, an anomalous position for a slave to fill, and freedom with honours was offered to her who had become more a friend than a servant, but Tasha would not have the existing relationship disturbed, fearful that it might lead to some dreaded separation in the future. Her wish was respected. In technical formality she remains a slave, but her actual authority in the palace is only second to that of the Queen-mother.

Ever thoughtful and considerate for the meanest object upon which she could bestow her attention, it is one of the first pleasures of her day to visit the fish in the basin of the fountain in the atrium. Her slaves had already spread her couch of skins in their accustomed place when the unusual glories of the hills attracted her to the porch where we first behold her, the breezes playing with her sun-kissed hair. She is not now the undeveloped but promising beauty of Susa' though still winsomely attractive, in spite of her - but, no! why need we speak of that?

Enough that she has been able - more by the sweetness of her nature than by the subterfuges of the toilet - to evade the attentions of time, and when we find her presently in the company of her charges, she would prefer that we regard her as their humble and favourite companion. Why should we seek to disturb the illusion ?

Waiving these delicate allusions, therefore, let us ascend the steps and follow her as she turns into the atrium to visit her finny lovers. With what childish glee she throws herself upon the skins, and baring her arms, begins to dabble in the water in search of her first capture.

Suddenly a cloud of pain – horror - sweeps across her sunny face, a startled cry escapes her lips, and the alert slaves dart to her relief. She heeds them not, and seeing the cause of her alarm is in the fountain, the men retire silently as she brings forth the lifeless body of a fish.

“Poor little beauty,” she exclaims, turning it from hand to hand, to make sure it is past all aid. “Has the Gorgon slain thee in her jealousy, or has one of the immortal gods stolen thee as a present for his spouse?”

A shadow fell athwart the fountain at that moment, and the fish was tenderly laid upon the skins as Tasha rose to greet her other friends. The man was an Ethiopian, of bronze-black skin, tall, muscular, and with the dignified bearing of a monarch. He wore a short but elaborately embroidered dark tunic, and from his broad shoulders hung a leopard skin, suspended by a massive clasp and chain of gold. His head, arms, and legs were bare, save of jewellery, his feet alone being crossed with the crimson straps of his sandals. At his heels followed two scarcely full­grown lions, who no sooner saw the silent invitation of the lady than they bounded towards her for their morning salutation and caress. The magnificent brutes were the special pets of the Princess Vedrona, having been purchased for her by Glarces, her brother, in Nineveh, together with the hunter who had captured them.

“Peace to thee, Maphir,” exclaimed the lady, when she had freed herself from the attentions of the beautiful and innocent cats.

With a salaam equal to that he would have made to the Prince, he answered, “Peace, lady, peace.”

“I hope the lovely rogues have been allowed to enjoy themselves to the full in this most beautiful weather.” She had thrown herself again upon the skins and was playing with the animals as a child with kittens.

“We have made the best use of the morning, lady; we were up betimes and took good exercise before we broke bread.”

“Did you watch the beauty of the changing colours on the hills?” she enquired, leading the lions back towards the porch as she spoke. “I never remember seeing such marvellous effects before.”

The hunter shook his head mournfully.

“No, lady; I was conscious of nothing unusual. My thoughts wandered further than the mountains this morning.” Then turning his attention to the lions, of whose unwelcome nearness Tasha's slaves were nervously conscious at the moment, he cried, “Come here, Zhan! Down, Zhade!” and the two relieved menials at once retreated to the further side of the apartment.

I think you are a very strange man, and somewhat difficult to please,” she said, kindly, looking into the hard-set face so far above her; “you always look so sad and gloomy. You live so much alone, refuse to make friends, have no companions but the lions, while I imagine it is impossible to find a more beautiful home on earth than here in Velia, and as for masters - well! I know the equal of Glarces cannot be found. What is it ails thee?”

“What avails the city, lady, or the greatness of even the most noble Glarces so long as I am a slave?”

“Do you call this slavery?” she asked, with incredulous consternation. “I cannot call it freedom.”

“Neither do I. Freedom as compared with the life we live is as the winter contrasted with this most glorious morning; it is full of disagreeables, cares, and dangers. Are not these most beautiful brutes better cared for, more safe, therefore, more content in their present condition than when free to roam, to hunger, to be hunted and slain? What more can we wish for than is already ours? Oh, Maphir, if we are not satisfied with what we have, I am afraid the gods will never be able to make us so. I wish you would try to think so, for it troubles me to see you so sad and gloomy day after day, when I would have everyone to be as glad and happy as I am myself.”

“For your kind wishes and sympathy, I thank you, lady, and long may the gods continue to grant you the satisfaction you enjoy. But will you pardon the boldness of my reminding you that you were born a slave, and come of a race who have not known the sweets of freedom - who never knew the meaning of wife, husband, children, home! I have known such gifts, and the pleasures of freedom, and when I remember them, even these golden gifts of royal favour,” indicating the jewelled ornaments he wore, “mock me with their taunts of bondage.”

“I wish that I could understand you better, then I might be able to assist you to be as happy as I wish every slave within the house to be,” she replied, regretfully. “There are but two or three like unto yourself, and if I could only make you all contented and the dear Queen-mother strong again, then I should be as blessed as the immortals are.” The practical mind of Maphir saw how impossible it was that she could ever understand his feelings and position, so he at once availed himself of her reference to the Queen to change the subject.

“I hope our royal mistress is better to-day.”

“No, Maphir. She will never be better, I am sorry to say, though I have not seen her yet. She is going away from us - we know it, yet know not how, and therefore can do nothing to prevent it.I think she has a twin soul, as they say in Persia - that is, the other half of herself is in the land of the Immortals, and drawing her away.”

“I trust that you are right, for if she has been mated with the holy gods, she will be blest in her going.”

“I am persuaded that it must be so, and we shall have no power to keep her longer than her other-self determines. You do not know her, Maphir, but to be in her company, if only while one tale of the sand is told, is like to lying so long at the half-open gate of Paradise.” Then clasping her slender fingers around his brawny arms, and looking with surprising sympathy into his stolid face, she continued “I wish it were in my power to bring you to her presence just for once, my sorrowful Maphir; that one experience would banish all the grief from your after life.”

“For your kindly sympathy again I thank thee, lady, and I would your desire could receive its worthy answer; but since it cannot be, then I must try to bear my discontent. She is at home, among her children and her friends, surrounded by all that makes life worthy of endurance, and capable of such enjoyment as the gods allow. I am a slave, away from all that heart and life can crave for; how is it possible for me to taste her happiness?”

The despairing pathos of his last utterance, spoken without resentment, touched Tasha more deeply than she had hitherto experienced, and made her understand how impossible it was for her in any way to succeed in her self-imposed mission along the lines she had so far pursued. She had generously ventured to alleviate a sorrow she did not understand, and lighten a burden she had ignorantly underestimated: the result was the discovery of a wound she had not anticipated, nor was her skill sufficient to suggest an antidote for the pain she unwittingly occasioned. What could she do? Others might turn away with the thought they had done their best, and take no further interest in the matter; but Tasha was not such an one - her joys were reached through the happiness of those around her, and from their sorrows was her grief distilled.

“I cannot tell you how sorry I am for the mistake I have made,” she answered, with evident regret. “I ought not to have spoken thus with you when, as you say, I only know what it is to be a slave, and cannot understand how you must feel. But I was desirous of helping you - I wish to do so now, and am sure there is some way by which I may if I could only find it. Forgive me for the pain I have so innocently caused, and if you see or know how I can assist you, tell me plainly - freely, and I will do my best to make you, even as I am, happy.”

“A thousand thanks, lady, for your good wishes and intent, but I would not have you accuse yourself of any share in reviving the memories which make me of sullen mien today. All that were done, as I have said, when I was far abroad, before my fast was broken. Had I not known how impossible it is for you to be other than kind and considerate I should not have spoken as I did, but since I have, and you would still help me, I beg of you to ask permission from the mighty Prince, or his most royal sister, to hear me tell the story of these lions' capture, for if they knew the truth their sense of justice would not let them keep me here.”

“Will such a little thing help to make you happy, Maphir? Why, I will away to the Princess at once and tell her that you are already prepared to obey her special command.”

“I do not understand you, lady.”

“Why, you have suggested the very thing for which I was waiting to see you. The Princess is not well to-day - her dreams have troubled her. Perhaps this the gods have ordered for your advantage; and when I left her but a little time ago, she bade me ask you to be prepared with some story of your hunter's life to interest and amuse her.”