CHAPTER XXXI - A TEST OF FRIENDSHIP

As the day wore on Teresh realised more and more the difficulties he would be compelled to encounter in prosecuting his self-imposed task of avenging Vedrona, and securing justice for Glarces. Every move he made revealed the fact that Lais was well in advance of him, at each step he saw how clearly she divined his purpose, and had carefully planned to frustrate it; this served to strengthen his suspicion and determination. Discarding the company of Machaon he had returned to the room where the Prince was still sleeping, and learned that none could gain admission except by the special permit of Petronius, and when he appealed to the Captain he discovered that the Queen forbade any intercourse without her special warrant. Foiled in this attempt he requested to see Orasus, but the interview was fruitless, as the Prince had said nothing in the hearing of his slave, except asking to be allowed to die without interference, if possible.

From all the wild and incoherent rumours floating about he later discovered that Glarces was with Tasha when the alarm was made, and away he went at once to question the grief-stricken foster-mother. Tasha and he so thoroughly understood and had confidence in each other that he was sure of being put into possession of all she knew. But, alas! it only amounted to the certainty that Glarces was suffering from an aberration of mind, in the wanderings of which nothing could be gleaned, unless there might be a substratum of truth in the assertion that Lais had given him something to drink; but all, he had said appeared to be so confused that Teresh feared to trust any inference, though he carefully noted the reference. This was the extent of the assistance he could gain from Tasha, since she had been forbidden to see the Prince again without the Queen's permission.

Having exhausted the means at his disposal without obtaining any definite information, Teresh now turned to his favourite place of study - the garden - to consult with himself, and devise some further course of procedure. The more he pondered on the drunken boast of Casca, together with the present action of Lais, and the confused utterance of Glarces, the more certain did he become that there was a connection to be discovered.

“Everything possible is accessible.”

“You may conceal the birth of truth, but it will grow and walk abroad, then all the powers of earth are useless to resist the justice of its claim.”

“Patience and watchfulness are the best keys to unlock the doors of wrong.”

“Success is the warden of justice, soothing the soul to rest, that in the nightmare of unconsciousness it may discover its true identity.”

These and other favourite aphorisms passed through his mind, and encouraged him as he meditated, but nothing practical presented itself.

Presently he met Machaon in conference with Meshrac. “What progress, Teresh?” lightly enquired the physician. “None. Have you done anything?”

“Nothing whatever; and the more I think of it the less I am inclined to share your opinions.”

“And everything tends to drift my conviction in the opposite direction.”

“There is nothing curious about that,” said Meshrac, when we once adopt an idea we naturally colour every circumstance to harmonise with it. Our sense of the fitness of things compels that.”

“You are right as a rule, but judicial minds are trained to be an exception, and that I have a right to claim.” “Judicial minds are only human after all,” he replied superciliously.

“I am sorry you have taken up this unfortunate idea, Teresh,” remarked Machaon, who was of more conciliatory disposition than the astrologer, “because I am afraid it will not tend to your advantage.”

“I am not anxious about advantage; it is justice I am wanting.”

“I think loyalty should have the stronger claim to-day,” said Meshrac. “It is my loyalty that demands justice.”

“I think our Queen would have but little confidence in it if she knew the suspicion from which it takes its rise.” “Now I begin to understand you, Meshrac; but have the dead and Glarces no claims upon us?”

“Certainly they have, and the noble Sazone will receive an honoured burial; Vedrona, I have no doubt, will be accorded a funeral pyre such as seldom, if ever, seen before in Sahama; Glarces, I am sure, will be most considerately dealt with by the Queen. What more can we do?”

“Has the friendship of the Prince no further claim upon you?”

“My dear Teresh, you are most impractical in your ideas. Duty must always take precedence of friendship. I am the servant of the crown, not a person. How rigidly we obey this rule you have seen in our fidelity to Glarces, even while he ignored our existence and brought the ceremonies of the oracle into national disfavour. His reign is over now, and already I have received from the divine Lais an intimation and earnest of her favours in the restoration of our religion; how then can you expect me to set aside our rule in favour of one who has so ignored and injured us?”

When it is remembered that magician, priest, and doctor were only different degrees of the same cult, and Meshrac was the chief, it may readily be understood what position Machaon would henceforth assume.

“I understand you, Meshrac; and wish you both ‘Peace’.” His knowledge of Machaon had led him to hope for better success, but he was ignorant of the fact that in his craft the freewill of the man had to be sacrificed to the interests of his order. Neither was the tyrannical demand altogether a condition of the superstitious ages, but its iron hand is still retained in every professional combination which exists to-day. It is true we call it by other names, and have invented reasons and justifications to veil the nature of the despotism, but it exists all the same. It occupies the whole professional field of human life from paddock to pulpit, and social purity to politics.

Teresh had to accept the inevitable. He knew that the heart of Meshrac the man was better than that of the magician, but the obedience he had to yield to his profession he would exact also from Machaon, and the councillor could therefore hope for no assistance from either on behalf of the Prince. Only yesterday the whole weight and interest of the magical community were bound up in Glarces, but at the command of a foul conspiracy - a dastardly murder - of which the Prince was the sole remaining victim, the religious scientific, and medical fraternities had, in one night, changed their allegiance, and were now ready to grovel before the bloody hand that held the sceptre, in the hope of future favours. Of course, it could only be expected, since the hand from which they had received the favours of the past was helpless and empty now. And this is religion in practice - “the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever,” so long as it remains a system dominated by the minds and necessities of men rather than the immutable laws of God.

But I shall be reminded that neither magician nor physician knew more of the truth of the matter than Teresh himself. So Meshrac the man would tell us, and the astrologer would not answer if we asked him, but the mystery of Zillah's philtre was now cleared up to him, though the secret was safe if the revival of the oracle could be secured. He had a true regard for Glarces, but his profession was greater than his friendship. Principle and truth were secondary considerations to authority.

Teresh was not such a man, and though he should find himself alone he would continue to prosecute his quest until Glarces and Vedrona were avenged, or he had discovered the error of his suspicion.

He had continued his walk but a short distance when he met Zachra.

“Ah, Zachra,” he exclaimed, “I am glad to see you. Have you heard anything?”

“Nothing,” he answered gloomily.

“I have just left Meshrac and Machaon. We shall have no help from them.”

“I am not surprised at that. I never expected it. Still, it is well to know who are really friends.”

“What do you propose as the next step?”

“I have been wondering whether the hunter knows anything.” “In what way?”

“I have an idea that if we knew the full story of that wrangle between him, Casca, and Vedrona's maid, we might get a useful suggestion.”

“That is rather far-fetched, I think. Besides, the fellow is so sullen you can never get a word out of him.”

“As a rule he is, I know. But I believe he would give his life for Glarces, any time. If we try him we can only fail.” “I have no faith, but every forlorn hope is worth a trial. Come; we will see him at once.”

They found Maphir fairly busy for the moment. The lions were in a fractious mood that morning, and failing an object upon whom to vent their temper, were threatening a fight between themselves. Maphir had carefully noted the preliminary indications of their restlessness, but thoroughly understanding the habits and natures of the beasts, never cared to interfere unless necessary. Once or twice he had ventured to speak to them, and they had turned away as if ashamed of their mutinous conduct; but at length a prolonged and vicious snarl caused him to leap to his feet, seize a whip, and rush to their cave in time to save an actual combat.

When his visitors arrived he was in the act of administering the first sound thrashing they had received at his hands, neither did he end it until he made them fully conscious who was master.

Having accomplished this, he threw his whip aside, and with the true magnanimity of his noble nature, returned to each crestfallen brute, patting his head and speaking a few words of regretful sympathy in the assurance that he had forgiven their misconduct.

“They appear to be restless this morning,” suggested Teresh, as he drew a step or two nearer.

“It would be a wonder if they weren't,” was the sullen reply. “Why?”

“Why? Because they're brutes. If they were men I suppose they would be rubbing their hands in glee. But they're brutes, and faithful, that's why they're mad.” “Do you think they know it is past the time when they usually see the Princess?” asked Zachra.

“Do you think the lions are fools ?” he enquired. “Does a dog need to be told of his master's death? Is a cur better than a lion? Zhade knew of this weeks ago, and had I only let him go he would have made short work of one man, and spared us all the sorrow of to-day.”

“What man?” asked Teresh anxiously. “He who killed the Princess.” “What, Glarces?”

“Glarces! No!” He was about so say more, but, casting a suspicious glance at his visitors he changed his mind, and added: “That is, I can't understand how he could do it; but I can't trust myself to think to-day, and I daren't speak.” “You can tell us who this man is you suspect.”

“No, I dare not do it to-day. I might strike a wrong trail, and the consequences would be serious. The death of the Princess means more to me than you think. You don't know why, but look at this, then perhaps you will understand why it is not safe for me to trust myself to-day.” As he spoke, he drew from his breast his document of release and handed it to Teresh to read. “The Princess gave me that on the day she heard the story of my capture, and I have only been waiting for a caravan to go to Mizraim with which I was to return. Much as my eyes hunger for the sight of my wife and children, I would gladly give my life for her. But she has gone - she is dead! And as I sit here thinking what I can do to avenge her and save her brother, you come along, when my heart is full, and tempt me to say more than I ought. No! I cannot do it. I know nothing.” “We grieve, Maphir, as truly, if not as deeply as yourself.” replied Zachra. “We cannot save the Princess, but we may, and are, determined to do something on behalf of Glarces. Will you not assist us?”

“The Prince is my master, and I am willing to serve him as best I may.” “And we are his friends,” replied Teresh.

“How am I to know that, save from the Prince himself ?” “We will swear it on our honour.”

“So would the traitor who is responsible for the murder.”