CHAPTER XLII - A LABOUR OF LOVE

When the councillor entered the palace he found Tasha, as he expected, engaged in her usual morning recreation at the fountain in the atrium.

“Peace, Tasha, and I would also give thee joy,” he saluted her.

“Peace, Teresh,” she answered, but not with the bright vivacity we have been accustomed to find in her. “As for joy, my friend, that has vanished long ago.”

“Oh come, it is not winter yet, and that should be the season of our melancholy. Have you seen how beautiful the hills are looking to-day?”

“No, I have no heart to look at the hills now. Their beauties would only recall sad memories.”

“Why should it be so?”

“Because I trace the source of all our trouble back to a morning when I stood there (pointing to the well-known spot) and grew enthusiastic over their beauty beyond anything I had seen before.”

“But the hills are not responsible for the trouble, Tasha ; they look to me, this morning, as if they stood as heralds of joy rather than sorrow. Let me persuade you to look, and I am sure you will admire the grandeur in which they are clothed.”

“I hope the gods will make them heralds of joy indeed, but it will not be so to me. Yet I will grant your wish that I should see them.”

He took her hand and assisted her to rise from the rugs, then led the way to the porch.

“Can you imagine such a morning not having a message of joy for every living soul?” he asked, as they stood with the lovely landscape full in view.

“Can you imagine it having such a message for me?” she responded sorrowfully.

“Yes, I can do that.” “I wish I could.”

The bitterness of her despair touched him, and he answered her with sympathetic seriousness.

“I am no ardent believer in the existence of the gods, Tasha, as you know; or rather, I should say, in such gods as are willing to serve and become the puppets of Meshrac and his companions. Divinities who make any claim upon my allegiance must be superior to the very best of men. That is why I have no faith in, and neglect to run after, the so-called oracles of the land. What need have I to ask gods to do those things which I can do much better? Some men may like so to deceive themselves, but I am not of them. Apart, however, from magicians or any professional authorities, to whom religion is only another name for trade, I am convinced that gods exist, who govern in justice, though we may fail to understand them. They need no incantation nor other magical jumble to call attention to our presence, or to open their ears to our supplications. The sufferings and sorrows of afflicted souls reach them without the aid of any priestly rites, and their hearts are sufficiently merciful towards us not to turn away from our requests. They hear and answer all who call upon them in necessity. This is the faith and hope of my life - it comes from experience rather than the assurance of magicians; therefore I am able to trust and not be afraid. This has upheld me and made me confident all through our trouble, and it also makes me feel that the morning is more sweetly laden with joy as the reward of this uncertainty, than you have yet discovered.”

“What do you mean, Teresh?” she asked, her old enthusiasm leaping suddenly through the incrustation of her sorrow.

“I mean all I say; perhaps even more than you can suspect, but mind - your slaves are near and we must be careful.”

“Have you heard of him?” she cried, her hope and mingled fear ignoring the caution he counselled.

“Hush! Yes! But dismiss your slaves.”

“Go!” she commanded in a tone of abrupt, impatient authority, more usual with Lais than herself. Then turning suddenly upon her friend she besought him piteously “Now! Tell me all you know! At once! Suspense will kill me.”

“Calm yourself for all our sakes. You will not be disappointed! The best has happened! We have found him!”

“Found Glarces! Who has found him? Where?”

“It was Zhan who really did it; then he led Maphir, Zachra and myself into what was simply a living grave. [Tasha shuddered.] But the whole story is too long to tell you now. We have been with him through the night, and I have only just left to bring you the news. Now calm yourself, and help me in such provision for his needs as is necessary.”

“Where is he? Can I see him?”

“Yes! You shall go to him presently. When the sun has travelled another degree you must be at Maphir's. He will take you to him. The place us close at hand. But not a soul must know of this - do you understand?”

“Do you think I love him less than you?”

“No, my friend; but we can afford to run no risks. You have Orasus with you, I think?”

“Yes.”

“Then he must also go. Further, it will be well to take two other men and one maid, who can be trusted, though they must not return till Glarces leaves. Have you three such among your slaves?”

“Yes. I can find more than that if I want them.”

“We do not want them. Caution is more necessary than numbers for the present. The next thing is to provide for his requirements. This you must do. He is ill - too ill to speak. But I think he only needs nursing and nourishment to bring him round. Send clothing also, for he has nothing but what Maphir could provide. These things you will attend to. Let the slaves who will remain convey them to Maphir's lodgings without attracting attention, or knowing what they do.”

“Trust me in all that.” Then, with her innocent and beautiful face wearing its old smile, she looked up at him and added: “You were right, and I was wrong. The morning had a message of joy for me, and I was not listening for it.”

Then she hurried away to discharge her happy commission, the thought of Glarces' illness sufficiently toning her elation to prevent it attracting undue attention.

It was a busy hour, but her woman's wit found a ready way through the task she had to discharge, and when she reached her rendezvous she was surprised to see the amount of supplies she had sent on.

Maphir was already in waiting, and, at his suggestion, the slaves were now made aware of the object of their coming. It was welcome news, for to his slaves the departure of Glarces had meant much more than to the free men who professed to be his friends, and their joy at the choice which had fallen upon them for this service was too spontaneous for simulation. Orasus was truly overcome at the unexpected tidings, his only regret hitherto being that he was not allowed to share his master's exile.

One necessary hint Maphir had to give from Zachra to Tasha. In her meeting with Glarces he requested there should be no demonstration on account of his condition. She was to take no notice that would disturb him, but let the recognition break gradually and its reviving influence give him strength to bear it.

The slaves hesitated for an instant, and Tasha wondered, when Maphir opened the door of the cave and bade them follow him quickly. But friends were able to pass that dozing guard in safety, and almost before confidence had been restored, Tasha was silently weeping as she looked upon the wasted features of “her boy,” while the slaves, in mute gratitude, beheld their long sought master.

Glarces was sleeping at the time, and Zachra stole away from his side to give place to a better nurse, but we must retire with the relief, leaving the invalid to wake and recognise his mother without the criticism of curious eyes.