The People of the Mist, H. Rider Haggard [top 100 novels of all time .txt] 📗

For a while there was silence, then Juanna looked up, searching Olfan’s face with her eyes. Nothing was to be read there, for it was impossible to pierce the mask of solemn calm beneath which, in common with all his race, the king was accustomed to hide his thoughts. He leant on the shaft of his broad spear, his head bowed slightly as though in humility, his dark eyes fixed upon her face, immovable, impassive, a picture of savage dignity.

Indeed, Juanna was fain to confess to herself that she had never seen a grander specimen of the natural man than that presented by the chief of the People of the Mist, as he stood before her in her rock prison. The light of the candles fell full upon him, revealing his great girth and stature, beside which those of the finest men of her own race would have seemed insignificant. It shone upon the ivory torques, emblems of royalty, which were about his neck, wrists, and ankles, upon the glossy garments of black goat-skin that hung from his shoulders and middle, and the raven tresses of his hair bound back from his forehead by a narrow band of white linen, which showed in striking contrast against the clear olive colouring of his face and breast.

“Speak, Olfan,” said Juanna at length.

“It was told to me, Queen,” he answered in a low, full voice, “that you had words to say to me. Nevertheless, now as always, I obey you. Queen, I learn that your husband, he whom you loved, is dead, and believe me, I sorrow for you. In this shameful deed I had no hand; that, together with the end of the other white man and the dwarf, must be set down to the account of this priest, who swears that he was driven to it by the clamour of the people. Queen, they have all gone across the mountains and through the sky beyond, and you, like some weary dove, far travelled from a southern clime, are left a prey among the eagles of the People of the Mist.

“But a few hours since I thought you dead also, for with all the thousands in the temple I believed that it was your fair body which Nam hurled at dawn from the brow of the statue, and I tell you that when I saw it, I, who am a warrior, wept and cursed myself, because, although I was a king, I had no power to save you. Afterwards this man, the high priest, came to me, telling me the truth and a plan that he had made for his own ends, whereby you might be saved alive and lifted up among the people, and he also might be saved, and my rule be made sure in the land.” And he ceased.

“What is this plan, Olfan?” asked Juanna, after a pause.

“Queen, it is that you should wed me, and appear before the people no longer as a goddess, but as a woman who has put on the flesh for her love’s sake. I know well that I am all unworthy of such honour, moreover, that your heart must be sore with the loss of one who was dear to you, and little set upon the finding of another husband; also I remember certain words that passed between us and a promise which I made. All these things I told to Nam, and he answered me saying that the matter was urgent, that here you could not be hid away for long, and that if I did not take you to wife then you must die. Therefore, because my love towards you is great, I said to him, ‘Go now and ask her if she will smile upon me if I come before her with such words.’

“Nam went, but before he went he made certain agreements with me on matters of policy, under which I must pay a heavy price for you, Lady, and forego revenge and forget many an ancient hate, all of which things I have promised to do should you smile upon me, so great is my love towards you. The hours went by, and Nam came back to me, saying that, having weighed the matter in your mind, your answer was favourable. To this I replied that I did not trust him, and would take it from your lips alone.

“And now, Queen, I am here to listen to your word, and to offer myself to you, to serve you all my life as your husband and your slave. I have little to give you who have been bred up in sunnier lands, and among a more gentle people; I who am but the wild chief of men whose hearts are rugged as our mountains, and gloomy as a winter’s day that is heavy with snow to come,—only myself, the service of my soldiers’ spears, and the first place among the Children of the Mist.

“Now let me hear your answer, and be it what it may, I will accept it without a murmur, for least of all things do I desire to force myself upon you in marriage. Still I pray you, speak to me plainly once and for all, for if I must lose you I would know the worst; nor can I bear, when you have smiled upon me, to see you turn away. Nay, I would sooner die.”

And once more he bowed his head, leaned upon his spear, and was silent.

Juanna considered the position rapidly. It was hopeless and cruel. Nam and Soa were on either side of her, the latter standing near the door with the sliding panel beyond which Leonard lay bound, and she knew well that did she speak a single word of the truth to Olfan, it would be the signal for her lover’s death. It was possible that the king might be able to protect her own person from violence, but if Leonard died it mattered little what became of her. There was but one thing that she could do—declare herself willing to become the wife of Olfan. Yet it seemed shameless thus to treat this honourable man, the only friend that they had found among the People of the Mist. But of a truth, such necessities as hers cannot wait while those in their toils weigh scruples or the law of honour.

“Olfan,” she said, “I have heard you, and this is my answer: I will take you as my husband. You know my story, you know that he who was my lord is but this day dead,” here Soa smiled approvingly at the lie, “and that I loved him. Therefore of your gentleness, you will accord me some few weeks before I pass from him to you, in which I may mourn my widowhood. I will say no more, but surely you can guess the sorrow of my heart, and all that I have left unsaid.”

“It shall be as you wish, Queen,” replied Olfan, taking her hand and kissing it, while his sombre face grew radiant with happiness. “You shall pass into my keeping at that time which best pleases you, yet I fear that in one matter you must be troubled now, this very hour.”

“What may that be, Olfan?” asked Juanna anxiously.

“Only this, Queen, that the rite of marriage as we practise it must be celebrated between us. It is necessary for many reasons which will be made clear to you to-morrow. Moreover, such was my bargain with Nam sealed by an oath sworn upon the blood of Aca, an oath that I do not dare to break.”

“Oh, no, no!” said Juanna in acute distress. “Think, Olfan, how can I, whose husband is not six hours dead, vow myself to another man upon the altar of his grave? Give me some few days, I pray you.”

“Most willingly would I do this, Lady, but I may not, it is against my oath. Also, what can it matter? You shall remain alone for so long as it shall please you.”

Then Nam spoke for the first time, saying:

“Shepherdess, waste no breath in words, for learn that though this garment of modesty is becoming to one new widowed, yet you must put it from you. More depends upon this ceremony than you know of, the lives of many hang upon it, our own, perchance, among them, and especially the life of one of whom it does not become me to speak,” and as though by accident Nam let his eyes rest upon the door of the adjoining cell.

Of his auditors Olfan thought that he was alluding to his own life, but Juanna and his daughter knew well that he spoke of that of Leonard, which would be sacrificed did the former persist in her objections to the instant celebration of the marriage.

“You hear his words, Queen,” said Olfan, “and there is weight in them. The times are very dangerous, and if our plot is to be carried through, before midnight I must make oath to the captains and the Council of the Elders that you have come back from death to be my wife.”

“Maybe,” answered Juanna, catching at a straw in her despair, “but must I, who shall be set over this people as queen, be married thus in secret? At the least I will have witnesses. Let some of the captains whom you trust, Olfan, be brought here to see us wed, otherwise the time may come when I shall be held to be no true wife, and there are none to establish my honour by their words.”

“There is little fear of such a thing, Queen,” answered Olfan with a faint smile, “yet your demands are just. I will bring three of my captains here, men who will not betray us, and they shall be witness to this rite,” and he turned as though he would go to seek them.

“Do not leave me,” said Juanna, catching him by the wrist. “I trust you, but these two I do not trust. I fear to be left alone.”

“There is no need for witnesses,” exclaimed Nam in a threatening voice.

“The Shepherdess has asked for witnesses, and she shall have them,” answered Olfan fiercely. “Old man, you have played with me long enough; hitherto I have been your servant, now I will be your master. Some hours ago your life was forfeit to me, for the white dawn had turned to red, and I meant to take it, but you bribed me with this bait,” and he pointed to Juanna. “Nay, do not lay your hand upon your knife; you forget I have my spear. Your priests are without, I know it, but so are my captains, and I have told them where I am; if I vanish as many vanish here, my life will be required at your hands, for, Nam, your power is broken.

“Now, obey me. Bid that woman summon him who guards without. No, you do not stir,” and he lifted the spear till its keen blue point quivered over the high priest’s naked breast. “Bid her go to the door and summon the guard. I said to the door, but not beyond it, or beware!”

Nam was cowed: his tool had become his master.

“Obey,” he said to Soa.

“Obey, but no more,” echoed Olfan.

Snarling like a wolf, the woman slipped past them to the door, and opening it a little way, she whistled through the crack.

“Hide yourself, Lady,” said Olfan.

Juanna retreated into the shadow behind the candle, and at that moment a voice spoke through the open door, saying, “I am here, father.”

“Now, speak,” said Olfan, advancing the spear an inch nearer Nam’s heart.

“My son,” said the priest, “go to the entrance by which the king entered, where you will find three captains, generals of the king. Lead them hither.”

“And see that you speak to no one on the way,” whispered Olfan in Nam’s ear.

“And see that you speak to no one on the way,” repeated Nam.

“I hear you, father,” replied the priest, and went.

Some ten minutes passed and the door opened again. “The captains are here,” whispered a voice.

“Let them enter,” said Nam.

The order was obeyed, and three great men armed with spears stalked into the narrow chamber. One of them was brother to the king, and the two