CHAPTER VI - GLARCES

“The friend of the gods, the most mighty Prince Glances approaches.” So announced the herald as Maphir rose from his knees.

The Prince entered.

There was no necessity for the profound reverence with which he was received, no need for the acknowledgment accorded to him by the Princess, nor yet for the announcement of the chamberlain to tell us this was Glarces. He was a prince - not alone of royal blood, but of men, and the fact was so patent he could well dispense with all distinctive accessories and never be mistaken. Without the royal trappings and distinguishing regalia, Alexander, Nero, or Napoleon might have been lost among their subjects, but Glarces, in his simple grey tunic, with no other decoration than a modest amethyst over his heart, proclaimed himself and enforced the recognition.

He was a man absolutely moulded in physique and appearance by indomitable will and the inflexible determination of his mind. In crude material and appearance he was strikingly like his sister, but his soul had been sternly cultured and developed in that morality which first defies and then prostrates itself before the shrine of impersonal virtues. In every man and woman he found some possible potentiality of one or other of his gods, the protection and unfoldment of which had been, in a measure, entrusted to himself as a personal responsibility, the which he always attempted to guard with rigorous fidelity, especially against his own physical desires and appetites. This abnormally idealistic mysticism translated itself into all he did, rendering him an incomprehensible enigma to even his most intimate friends. Prompt in action, mostly reticent in speech, but withal a sure haven of refuge for whoever was wronged or oppressed, and no man, neither free nor slave, could say that Glarces would take advantage of him.

Whatever of cloud or shadow had hitherto veiled the face of Vedrona, cleared at the coming of her august brother, and in the gleam of the light of adoring love with which she greeted him, the enchanting sweetness of her soul was fully revealed.

As Glarces - with an almost imperceptible recognition to the slaves and attendants, which he never deferred - approached the divan, upon which she had half risen to receive his morning salutation, she lifted her face and offered a tempting kiss, which trembled nervously upon her lips. For a moment the natural impulse of his love surprised him; his countenance beamed with a true recognition of the wealth of the prize he possessed, and his lips spasmodically anticipated the banquet for which they hungered - for which he hungered in his inmost soul; but habit, as a ruthless and inflexible janitor, crushed the natural impulse back again, and with hands cold as ice from the influence of the sharp momentary combat, he bent the tempting face downwards and answered her heart's petition by a chaste kiss upon the forehead.

With a disappointed sigh she fell back upon the cushion of her lounge.

“Peace, my beloved; may the peace of the mighty gods protect and clothe thee!” he murmured.

“Peace, my Glarces,” and her voice was eloquently rich with the regret still trembling round her eyes; “but I am not anxious for so much protection from the gods; I would rather have you to be - well, at least a brother, and not so much of a friend - a slave. I would dispense with all the services of the gods if Glarces would come a little nearer.”

“I am no slave, my sister, but since the holy gods take refuge within yourself, I dare but worship at their shrine.”

“Oh, you foolish, misguided dreamer; when will you understand that the love of one noble man is more to a woman than the protection of a thousand gods? The poetry of Paradise may satisfy the Immortals, but at present I am only mortal and refuse to eat of ambrosial dishes.”

“Oh!”

The exclamation was uttered in a soft, long-drawn musical key, which Vedrona knew intimated his termination of the argument. At once he turned to the Nubian and enquired:

“And how are the lions this morning, Maphir?” The hunter knelt and kissed the extended hand of his royal master; but knowing the enquiry was more in the way of a morning recognition of himself than a desire for information, he made no reply. The lions, however, were not so passive. Zhan was already upon his feet, and almost before the Prince was ready for him, reared and dropped his ponderous paws full upon his master's shoulders in a weighty but innocent embrace. It was a trying test for the strength of a man, but Glarces sustained it, and closed in a friendly wrestle with the superb beast, which afforded a splendid exhibition of the athletic powers of the one, and the magnificent temper of the other.

A romping tussle with a pair of playful lions is not a most desirable kind of entertainment for a royal reception room - that is, unless Glarces commands it, and then, of course, it is quite another matter, or has to be.

For a moment, as he feigned and fenced with his playful antagonist, the free and unrestrained spirit of the gymnasium possessed the Prince, and Vedrona watched with almost incredible astonishment that Glarces could be so hilarious. Then a pang of jealousy smote her as she saw the gleeful affection with which he seized the loose flesh of the lion's jaws and shaking the huge head from side to side exclaimed:

“Zhan, you beauty, you know I love you, don't you?” Still holding the unresisting brute firmly within his grip he laid his own head in a last caress upon the face of the lion, after which he planted a ringing kiss squarely upon his lips, and adroitly flung him to his full length upon the floor.

Vedrona envied the lion in that frank and unrestrained kiss; but Glarces had not bestowed it thoughtlessly. He never acted without premeditation, and though but rarely condescending to make an explanation in such matters, all who knew him were conscious he had a valid reason for his action. In this case he was moved by admiration for the sterling fidelity of the animal, mixed with pity, sympathy, and compassion, that its nobility should be divided by such an impassable gulf from himself. His generous soul could legitimately stoop and lavish all its wealth of endearments upon the brute, but his sister - she was as much above himself as he above the lion, and though, in her almost divine condescension, she might bend to consider him, as he stooped to caress the lion, his only rightful attitude towards her was that so admirably preserved by the brute towards himself. The watchful and unpretentious fidelity of the lion spoke to him in metaphors he interpreted by the signs of his own purity, and led him to jealously guard the stewardship of his own sister's love rather than enter upon its possession.

The mimic battle having ended in the downfall of Zhan, Zhade at once bounded to the contest, after which the three rolled and gambolled on the floor, as a child will play with kittens, until both Prince and lions were out of breath with their exertions.

“That will do.” The lions at once understood him, and with a look almost bespeaking gratitude as well as pleasure, they turned to Maphir, conscious that their morning's play was over.

As soon as he had recovered his breath Glarces turned to the Princess, and with the innocent assurance of one who had been pleasurably anticipating the order, enquired:

“Is it my sister's pleasure to dispense with her pets now?” “Oh, yes; let them go,” she answered, glad to get rid of her rivals. “I have no need of their presence this morning.” With the departure of the lions the whole company - with the exception of the favoured Æna - withdrew to a remote part of the room, but the trusted salve still lingered at her mistress's feet discoursing the soft music of her lute.

Throwing himself upon his favourite seat beside the divan, Glarces asked, “What is it that disturbs the pleasure of my love?”

“Everything!” she answered, gloomily. “The gods have turned the world into a scourge for me to-day.”

“You are not well. I will send at once for the good Machaon.”

“No, Glarces, no!” she cried, seizing his hand to detain him, as he moved to carry out his suggestion. “You may be a far better physician than he, if you will hear me.”

“Speak!”

“Have you seen Lais to-day?” she asked. “No; I expected to see her here.”

“I received a message from her saying she was indisposed and would meet us in the fernery later on. Do you know where she was last night, and who accompanied her?”

“Yes. She attended the marriage festivities at the house of Teresh. Casca was with her.”

“Casca was with her,” she repeated, with significant emphasis. “Glarces, do you know that their continual association is not for good?”

“Hush, my sister; Lais is one of ourselves, and Casca is my friend.”

“And I am your sister and promised wife,” she answered. “Do not misunderstand me, my brother, but I am sure that the habit of concealment has grown upon her recently, and she only confides in us just so much as she pleases.”

“I think you are mistaken, dear; but let us send for her.” “No, no! Not so! You must hear me, then decide according as your wisdom and love dictate.”

“But if you cannot speak before her, your cause, at best, is but a doubtful one.”

“May I not speak to you of my suspicions in confidence?” she asked.

“But do you not see that this is the same mistake of which you accuse her?”

“Oh, Glarces, you are most unreasonable; so I suppose I must carry my doubt to our mother - and yet I would have saved her this.”

“No, you must not tell her. I will rather hear you.”

“You sadly misjudge me if you think I feel anything but the deepest love for her welfare, Glarces. But even you have thought that her confidence in us has declined of late, though I am willing to believe it may be more due to her Assyrian blood than actual intention. Still, we do know that she is wilful - somewhat daring - at times, and always susceptible to flatteries by which we have feared she may innocently be led into difficulties and probable complications. Knowing these things, for her own sake and our future happiness, I would save her from this too frequent company of Casca, for no matter how you may confide in him, I am assured that he is not to be trusted.”

“Be just, my sister. Have you any real grounds for such an opinion?”

“Yes, most serious grounds, which need not all be mentioned now. I will only ask you to enquire into his open defiance of my commands sent to Maphir this morning.”

“Open defiance of your commands ! Who has dared to do this ?” “Your trusted friend Casca.”

“Surely there is some mistake. I will send for him at once.”

Vedrona made no objection to this proposal; but Casca however, was not to be found.

“Tell Maunus that I would speak with him.”