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Chapter Twelve
Mysteries of Eblis
My mute conductress halted, listened intently, then placed her finger significantly on her lips. As she turned her half-veiled face towards me I saw in the flickering lamplight that her tattooed forehead was brown and wizened, that her dark, gleaming eyes were deeply sunken, and that her hand holding the lamp was thin, brown and bony.
The sounds that alarmed us ceased, and, after waiting a few moments, scarce daring to breathe, she descended several more stairs to a turn in the flight, and I found myself before a small, black door, which she quickly opened and closed again after we had passed through. Raising her finger to command silence, she moved along a narrow passage and then there commenced a toilsome ascent over great, roughly-hewn steps that I well remembered descending when, in the clutches of my captors, I had been roughly dragged from the apartment of my enchantress. With a nimbleness that showed a familiarity with their unevenness, she mounted, while I stumbled on behind, nearly coming to grief once or twice, and being compelled to save myself with my hands. In my eagerness to meet the woman who had entranced me, upward I toiled, until my breath came and went in short, quick gasps, and I was forced to rest a moment, while she also halted, smiling and turning the lamp towards me. The intricacies of these secret passages were puzzling and fatiguing, and I was anxious to pass into the well-remembered room wherein the Sultan’s daughter had, during so many weary moons, awaited me.
At last we stood before a door secured by a large iron bar, so heavy that old Ayesha could not draw it from its socket, but quickly I removed the barrier. The slave who had acted as my guide opened the door, drew aside the heavy curtain, and then stepping forward I found myself once again before the bright-eyed girl who desired my aid.
The place was dimly illumined by great hanging lamps of gold, which shed a soft and dubious light through cut crystals of green and crimson, and the air was sweetly scented by the odours of musk and cinnamon rising from the perfuming-pans. Azala, pale and beautiful, in her gorgeous harem dress, with arms, ankles and neck laden with jewels, was reclining with languorous grace upon her divan of light blue satin fringed with gold, that was placed in the alcove at the end of the apartment, her wealth of dark hair straying in profusion over the great, tasselled cushion of yellow silk. Her feet, tiny and well-formed, were bare, her pearl-embroidered slippers having been kicked aside, her pipe stood near, and upon a coffee-stool of ebony and gold stood a large silver dish of rare fruit, while kneeling beside her was a black female slave cooling her slowly with a fan of peacock’s feathers. Unnoticed by her, I stood for a few seconds, bewitched by her loveliness as she lay there in graceful abandon, her body saturated with perfumes, her soul filled with prayers.
“Welcome, O Zafar! Allah favoureth us!” she cried excitedly, springing to her feet the instant she recognised me, and, rushing across, grasping both my hands. “Thou hast brought happiness with thee.”
“At last, Azala,” I said, clasping her soft hands tenderly, and gazing into those brilliant black eyes that seemed to delight in the anxious curiosity which they aroused in my features. “Of a verity Allah is all-powerful and all-merciful. Our destinies are written in the Book, and therefore what is there left but to submit? For many moons have I striven to seek thee, to redeem the pledge I made unto thee, and now at last is our meeting accomplished.”
Noticing that I looked askance at the presence of Ayesha and the young negress, she waved her hand to them to retire. Then, when the curtains had fallen behind them, she led me slowly to her divan, saying in serious tones, “Come hither, O Zafar, I would have long and serious speech with thee.”
She having ensconced herself comfortably among her rich, downy cushions, I seated myself beside her, and as one arm stole around her slim waist, encircled by its bejewelled girdle, I drew her tenderly towards me with the intention of imprinting on her white, sequin-covered brow a passionate caress. Gently but firmly she disengaged herself from my embrace. At first the marvellous beauty of my divinity held me spellbound, but fortified by her smile I found courage to pour out a rhapsody of love and admiration, to which she listened, blushing deeply.
Thus, in the bliss of whispering love, we forgot the heavy sorrows oppressing us, and put aside all apprehension for the present and all care for the future.
After a recital of my adventures on being torn from her presence, I told her how wearily the hours had passed and of my mad desire to be again at her side, to which she answered, —
“In thee, O Zafar, have I placed my trust. The sun of the favour of the One Merciful shineth upon us, therefore let us abandon all fear.”
“The firmament possesseth but one sun, and the Empire of Sokoto but one Princess. That life, light, joy and prosperity may attend thee is my most fervent desire.”
“May perfect peace attend thee in the rose-grove of thine happiness,” she answered, turning towards me the most beautiful face that Allah had ever formed. “For many moons have I waited at yonder lattice for thy coming, knowing full well that thou art ready to serve me.”
“Ay, ready to serve thee, O Pearl of Sokoto,” I said fervently. “I love only thee, and am thy slave.”
She was toying in hesitation with her broad gold armlet that contained a talisman. Spells and charms are believed in as strongly by the ladies of Kano as those of Omdurman. The eye and knuckle-bone of a fox hung upon the neck of a boy gives him courage; its fat rubbed on a woman will convert her husband’s love into indifference. The dried liver of a cat is believed to bring back the love of a desired object to the person who possesses it; the skin of its nose, if worn on the ankle, is a preventive against murder by poison; while its ashes, if taken internally, will give all the shrewd, cunning qualities of the cat. The one Azala wore was the kus kaftar– a portion of the dried skin of a female leopard one moon old, which always bears the greatest price in the seraglios, because, if worn on the arm, it is believed to conciliate the affections of all to its wearer; and as she fingered it she uttered some kind of incantation that I failed to understand.
Her head had fallen back upon the great gold-tasselled pillow, and with her white arm thrown out above she looked up smiling into my face, uttering words of courage, declaring that I was the only man she had ever asked to perform a service.
“But,” she added, suddenly raising herself into a sitting position and gazing straight into my eyes, “how little – how very little we are thinking of the deadly peril which threateneth us! Both of us are confident in each other’s love; but, alas! no safety can there be until the Great Secret be solved.”
“What secret?” I asked, endeavouring to read her story in her brilliant eyes.
“The Secret of the Asps,” she answered, in a calm, low tone. “The secret of the strange, mysterious mark that is upon my breast and thine. When it is solved, then only may peace be ours.”
“Tell me all thou knowest regarding the curious imprint,” I said eagerly, lifting her bejewelled hand and pressing it tenderly. “Now that I am thy best beloved, ready to serve thee blindly and implicitly, surely I may know the secret of things concerning both of us,” I argued.
But with a sigh she answered, “No. Some knowledge hath been conveyed to me upon condition that I should preserve its secret until such time as the mystery shall be elucidated. Suffice it to thee to know that thou art the person to whom the truth may be revealed if thou hast forbearance and courage.”
“Will any act of mine place about thee the walls of security and the stillness of peace?” I inquired, with eagerness.
“Already have I told thee that, if thou wilt, thou canst save me.”
“From what destiny?”
“From one unknown, yet horrible – undecided, yet terrible,” she answered, hoarsely.
“Then I am thine to command, O Azala,” I answered. “In Zafar thou hast a servant who will serve thee with faith and fearlessness, unto even the uttermost ends of the earth.”
“When the dawn cometh we shall be compelled to part, for full well thou knowest what fate awaiteth thee if thou wert discovered by Khazneh or his brutal myrmidons,” she said, slowly. “But ere we bid each other farewell we have much to arrange, for upon the success of our plans dependeth whether our hands again clasp in welcome, or our lips meet in salutation. In receiving thee here I have run many risks in common with thee. If our enemies conveyed word unto the Sultan, assuredly would the vials of his wrath be poured out upon me, and he would execute his threat of giving me in marriage to some common soldier of the palace guard.”
“Has his Majesty given utterance to such a threat?”
“Yea. Because I fell into the displeasure of Khadidja, the scheming slave who now ruleth the harem as his chief wife, I became banished from the Courts of Enchantment. Indeed, only by the intercession of mine own mother, who hath long ago been deposed from her position of Sultana, and is now a mere slave, compelled to wash the feet of many who once served her, was I spared the indignity of being cast out from the palace and given as drudge to one of the horsemen who guard the Kofa-n-Kura. Indeed, the hand of misfortune hath fallen heavily upon me,” and she drew a long sigh, as in deep thought her pointed chin rested in her dainty palm.
“What was the nature of thine offence?” I inquired, interested.
“Involuntarily I acted as eavesdropper. One morning, lying in my hammock in a corner of the harem-garden where the rose-bushes grow thickly, I suddenly heard voices beyond. One I recognised as that of Khadidja, and the two others those of Shekerleb and Leilah, Arab slaves. Listening, I heard them discuss in detail an ingenious plot they had arranged to poison my mother, myself and three others, for Khadidja expressed herself determined to be supreme mistress of the seraglio. Appalled by this bold scheme of wholesale revenge, I lay silent, scarce daring to breathe, but when they had left I went straightway to the Sultan and in my mother’s presence explained all to him. The woman Khadidja was brought before him, but denied the accusation, swore on the Korân that she had not walked into the garden that morning, and brought Shekerleb and Leilah to corroborate her false statement. My father was convinced of her innocence, and believed also her allegation that a plot hatched by my mother was on foot to encompass her death. He grew angry, degraded my unfortunate mother from her position of Sultana to the meanest slavery, and subsequently banished me to the loneliness of this high abode.”
“Of a verity thy lot, O beloved, hath been an unhappy one, but let us now look forward to the dawn of a joyous day, to a noonday of prosperity, and to a sunset of peace. Azala, I love thee,” and as our lips met for the first time in a hot, passionate kiss, her bare, scented chest, with its profusion of jewels, rose and fell with an emotion she was unable to suppress.
In the dead, unbroken silence that followed, the distant roll of a drum, and the cry of the sentinels on the watch-towers at the city gates came up through the silk-curtained lattice, announcing that another hour had passed.
“Harken,” she cried quickly, springing to her feet, clutching me by the arm, and looking earnestly into my face. “We have but brief space wherein to plan our emancipation. Fearest thou to investigate the mysteries of Eblis, or to serve his handmaiden?”
“Fear dwelleth not in mine heart when the Pearl of Sokoto is nigh,” I answered gallantly, bending to kiss her hand.
“Even though thy Pearl may be daughter of the Evil One, and able to accomplish things superhuman?” she asked, in a strange, harsh voice.
“He who believeth in the one Allah and in his Prophet, holdeth in his hand a two-edged sword against the Ghul (Devil) and all the evil spirits of Al-Hawiyat,” I replied, surprised at this latter speech, and at the strange, haggard look that had suddenly overspread her beautiful countenance. “At the moment before our enemy Khazneh laid hands upon me, thou didst promise to reveal unto me some hidden marvel, the nature of which thou wouldst not disclose. For that purpose have I come hither, and now await the fulfilment of thy promise.”
Grasping my right wrist and looking into my face with eyes that seemed to emit fire, so strangely brilliant were they, she said, —
“Hast thou no fear of the future, or of the power of the Evil Eye?”
“The curse of Eblis himself shall not deter me from seeking to fathom the Mystery of the Asps. A voice that is dead hath commanded me, and I shall obey, even though I am compelled to engage Azrael in single combat. There is some strange secret in the mystic links that bind our existence – a secret I intend to discover at any hazard.”
“Bravely spoken, O Zafar,” she answered, her cheeks flushing with excitement and her sequins tinkling musically as she moved. “Thine heart is true as thy trusty Masser blade. May it be the will of Allah, who made the earth for a carpet, that thy courage never fail thee in thine attempt to rescue me from the plots that encompass me, and to penetrate the veil that hath so long hidden the truth of the entwined serpents.” She raised her face with a fond, wistful look.
Our lips met, and with her arms about my neck she clung to me, trembling, as if in fear. Then, fortifying herself for an effort, she slowly withdrew from my embrace, and led me across to the heavily-curtained door of the inner chamber, saying, —
“Thou hast declared thyself fearless and undaunted in the coming fight to possess the secret which none may know, even though it is imperative that thou shouldst pass barriers hitherto considered by all insurmountable. Truly thou art worthy a woman’s love.”
“Thou knowest how the unquenchable fire of love burneth within me, O light of mine eyes,” I answered, in fervent adoration. “With thee as the sun of my firmament, and with a stout heart within me, I am not afraid.”
For answer she turned, and with her hand upon the curtain, said, —
“Come hither. As a preliminary to thine encounter with the Invisible, I will reveal unto thee an undreamed-of marvel that will cause thine eyes to open wide in wonderment, and thine heart to cease its beating. Fear abideth not within thee. Enter therefore this portal whereat Malec, powerful yet invisible, mounteth guard, and learn the means by which the Mystery of the Asps may be unravelled.”
Chapter Thirteen
The Prism of Destiny
With sudden movement she drew aside the silken curtain, and we stepped into a small, dark, stone chamber, almost a cell. Then with a word of warning she guided my footsteps to a narrow flight of stairs, which she descended with caution, her golden anklets jingling as she went. As I followed, there clung about her soft draperies those sweet perfumes of the harem, the fragrance of which had intoxicated me.
Again she flung back a second heavy curtain that barred a horse-shoe arch at the foot of the stairs, when instantly my eyes were blinded by a flood of brilliant light. Under my feet I felt a carpet so thick that my slipper sank deep into it, and gradually as my dazzled vision grew accustomed to the unusual glare, I realised that I was in a chamber about the size of the one we had just quitted, but decorated entirely in bright green, the hue of which, reflected into Azala’s anxious countenance, gave her a complexion pallid and ghastly. The walls and ceiling were painted green, with good counsels from the Korân in long, lean letters of darker shade, the divans and cushions were of green silk, the stools of malachite, the large alcoves at the end fashioned from dark green marble, beautifully carved, while a malachite table, shaped like a crescent, near the end of the apartment, was studded with huge green crystals that glittered in the light like emeralds. The effect was weird and startling, for the bright white light came from a thousand lamps cunningly arranged overhead, while screens of glass, the colour of the deep sea, shot from the walls slanting beams of brilliant green.
The place was luxurious, yet, as I gazed around it, I could not repress a shudder.
“Go! Take thine ease upon yonder divan,” Azala said in a strange voice, pointing to the great couch within the alcove, and as I obeyed her, she took from her arm the gold band with its talisman of leopard’s skin and handed it to me. Apparently she dare not wear it there.
Standing in the centre of the curious chamber, she clapped her hands loudly, and instantly a curtain opposite was drawn aside, and there appeared the ugly, hunchbacked form of the grinning dwarf, Tiamo, followed by two female Arab slaves handsomely dressed in tissue of white and gold, and wearing long strings of talismans, and embroidered bags containing mysterious powders, cabalistic figures, and prayers in the language of Maghrib.
The trio, advancing, knelt before their mistress, and with a murmured blessing kissed her feet, prostrating themselves before her.
“Rise,” she commanded, almost breathless with excitement. “Know ye that in one brief hour the dawn will show in the direction of the holy city. Speed therefore on the wings of haste and execute my will.”
“We, thy slaves, obey thee, O Mistress,” they answered with one accord, and, rising, disappeared for a few moments. The two girls presently came forth bearing between them a huge golden bowl full of some sweet yet pungent perfume, which they set on a tripod upon the table of green malachite while Tiamo produced a small golden brazier which he lit and placed beneath the bowl. Then the girls produced green-painted derboukas, and seating themselves upon the mats at the horns of the crescent-shaped table, commenced a monotonous thumping on their drums, while the hideous dwarf, grinning from ear to ear, beat a rapid tattoo upon a double tambourine or kalango, all three chanting a weirdly-intoned accompaniment.
The curious spectacle held me on the tiptoe of expectation, for while the music was continued with a regularity that quickly became monotonous, Azala stood with her bejewelled hands outstretched over the bowl, repeating some words in the Hausa tongue which I could not understand. Her face had now grown deathly pale; surrounding her eyes were large, dark rings that betrayed the terrible anxiety at her heart. As the golden bowl became heated, the colourless liquid perfume gave off a vapour so pungent that it caused water to well in my eyes and my head to swim as if I had drunk marissa too freely. I was afraid to rise to my feet lest I should stagger and fall, so upon the edge of the divan I sat entranced and fascinated. The brighter the brazier grew the more dimly burned the lamps above until the brilliant light vanished and we remained in a semi-darkness, made brighter now and then by the uncertain flicker of the fire. Emerald crystals everywhere in ceiling and walls flashed like jewels with a bright green brilliance each time the flames shot up, producing a weird and dazzling effect, while in the shadow Azala prostrated herself, uttering an appeal to some power unseen.
Eagerly I watched the next development of this remarkable experiment. Suddenly the woman I loved struggled to her feet and with her right forefinger touched the edge of the steaming bowl. As she did this, a bright flash, blinding as lightning, shot through the chamber, causing the music to cease and the slaves, awe-stricken, to bow their heads until their brows touched the carpet.
“Malec, iron-hearted Janitor of Hell, hath been overthrown!” they exclaimed, in voices hushed in fear.
Again was the flash repeated as Azala’s hand touched the edge of the bowl of repoussé gold, and the slaves gasped in Arabic, —
“Lo! the Guardian of Al-Hawiyat is vanquished by the sword of Eblis!”
Then, a third time my eyes became dazzled by the sudden brilliance which apparently proceeded from the great basin of perfume, and the slaves lifted their voices, saying, —
“The Pillars of Hell have indeed fallen! – the sword of Eblis is sheathed, and Malec, trembling, hath hidden his dog’s face before the incomparable beauty of her Highness, the Lalla Azala!”
Tiamo, whom Azala addressed as El-Sadic (the Sincere), rose at the bidding of his mistress. With her hand pressed to her heart, as if to stay its wild beating, she stood close to me with her face upturned and her lips moving as if invoking the aid of some unseen power.
“Behold!” she cried, with a suddenness that caused me to start. “Behold, the Prism of Destiny!” And as the words fell from her white, trembling lips, there was a wild noise like the rushing of great waters, and a circular portion of the wall of the chamber directly opposite appeared to fall asunder, disclosing a huge gold ring, within which, placed perpendicularly, was a large crystal prism, the length of a man’s body, which, as it revolved in its setting, showed all the gorgeous hues of the spectrum with a rapidity that was bewildering.
Azala, standing motionless, gazed at it, while the slaves remained kneeling with eyes riveted upon it in fear and expectation. Propelled by some unseen agency, it revolved noiselessly within its golden circle, emitting shafts of multi-coloured light that illumined parts of the strange chamber, leaving the remainder in deepest shadow. Gradually, however, the speed with which the great crystal turned slackened, and Azala, advancing towards me, placed her hand lightly upon my shoulder, exclaiming in a low, intense tone, —
“Lo! that which we sought is revealed! Behold! before us is the forbidden Prism of Destiny, into which none may gaze without incurring the displeasure of the One Merciful, and the curse of Eblis the Terrible.”
The lights flashing full upon my face seemed to enthral my senses, for her words sounded distant, discordant and indistinct. But a sudden exclamation of hers aroused me.
“See!” she cried, pointing to the three-sided crystal. “Its motion steadies! It mirrors life in its wondrous depths, but those who dare discern their future ofttimes pay the penalty of their folly by being struck with blindness, and ignominy attendeth them. Allah, though merciful, is just, and it is written in the Book of Everlasting Will that we may know nought of the hereafter, save what holy writ teacheth us.”
“But how is the extraordinary effect produced?” I asked, marvelling greatly at the curious chimera, for though it appeared but a phantom, the prism actually revolved, and the illusion could not be caused by reflected light, as I at first had been inclined to believe.
“By offering sacrifice to Eblis,” she answered, looking into my eyes, an intoxicating gaze of promise, triumph, tenderness. On her lips dawned a smile which was pledge of the future – the future all light, all hope, all love. Then, pointing to the boiling bowl, she said, “He giveth sight of it to those of his slaves and handmaidens who invoke his aid.”
“Art thou actually one of his handmaidens?” I gasped in fear, amazed to observe that her beauty seemed to gradually fade, leaving her face yellow, care-lined and withered.
“I am,” she answered in a deep, discordant voice. “Once before, after thou wert taken from me, the Prism of Destiny made its revelation. The temptation to gaze therein proved too great, and, alas! I fell.”
“What didst thou discern?” I eagerly inquired, my eyes still fixed in fascination upon the mysterious, rotating crystal, my senses gradually becoming more than ever confused.
“I pierced the impenetrable veil of futurity.”
“And what manner of things were revealed?”
“I beheld many marvels,” she answered, in a slow, impressive voice. “Marvels that thou, too, canst behold if thou darest brave the wrath.”
She spoke so earnestly, fixing her searching eyes upon me, that I felt my courage failing. The constant flashing of brilliant colours in my eyes seemed to unnerve me, throwing me into a kind of helpless stupor, in which my senses became frozen by the ghastly mysteries practised before me. It was this feeling of helplessness that caused my heart to sink.
“Didst thou not declare thou wouldst engage Malec in single combat in thine endeavour to fathom the Secret of the Asps?” she observed, half reproachfully. “Yet thine hand quivereth like the aspen, and thou carest not to seek the displeasure consequent upon such an action.”
Erect, almost statuesque, she stood before me, pale and of incomparable beauty, holding my sun-browned hand in hers.
“Hearken, O Azala,” I cried, struggling with difficulty to my feet, and passing my hand across my aching brow to steady the balance of my brain. “No man hath yet accused Zafar-Ben-A’Ziz of cowardice. If, in order to seek the key to the mystery of the strange marks we both bear, it is imperative that I should gaze into yonder crystal, then I fear nought.”
“It is imperative,” she stammered. “If it were not, I, of all persons, would not endeavour to induce thee to invoke the curse upon thyself.”
“Then let me gaze,” I said, and with uneven steps went forward, my hand in hers, to where the great prism had so miraculously appeared. It was moving very slowly, the only light in the chamber being that emitted from its triangular surfaces, and as I halted before it my head reeled with a strange sensation of dizziness I had never before experienced.
Aloud the prostrate slaves cried, —
“O Malec, Angel of Terror, vanquished by a woman’s beauty, let the eyes of this friend of thy conqueror witness the sight which is forbidden, so that he may drink of the fountain of truth, and repose in the radiance of her countenance.” Tiamo was thumping his kalango and grinning hideously.
Bewildered, and only half-conscious of my surroundings, I felt Azala dragging me forward. Though the objects swam around me and I had a curious sensation as if I were treading on air, I advanced to within an arm’s length of the slowly-moving prism. My eyes were cast down to the green carpet, for in the sudden terror that had seized me I feared to look.
“Speak!” cried Azala, in a voice that seemed afar off. “What beholdest thou?”
But no answer passed my lips.
“Gaze long and earnestly, O Zafar, so that the image of things revealed may be graven upon the tablets of thy memory for use for our well-being hereafter,” she urged in a voice sounding like the distant cry of a night-bird.
The thought of her peril flashed in an instant across my unbalanced mind. Her appeal, I remembered, was for our mutual benefit, in order that I should be enabled to elucidate the Mystery of the Asps and bring peace upon her. What, I wondered, was the nature of this strange revelation which she herself had already witnessed.
Ashamed at this terror that branded me as coward, and determined to strive towards the solution of the remarkable mystery that bound me in a bond of love to the beautiful daughter of the Sultan, I held my breath and slowly raised my head.
Next second my heart stood still as, fascinated in amazement and aghast in horror, I gazed deep into the prism’s crystal depths, where an omination, wondrous and entrancing, met my eyes.
There was indeed revealed unto me a marvel of which I had not dreamed.
