BOOK III
EGYPT
CHAPTER I
TIDINGS FROM EGYPT
That curtain of oblivion without rent or seam sinks again upon the
visions of this past of mine. It falls, as it were, on the last of the
scenes in the dreadful chamber of the pit, to rise once more far from
Byzantium.
I am blind and can see nothing, for the power which enables me to
disinter what lies buried beneath the weight and wreck of so many ages
tells me no more than those things that once my senses knew. What I
did not hear then I do not hear now; what I did not see then I do not
see now. Thus it comes about that of Lesbos itself, of the shape of
its mountains or the colour of its seas I can tell nothing more than I
was told, because my sight never dwelt on them in any life that I can
remember.
It was evening. The heat of the sun had passed and the night breeze
blew through the wide, cool chamber in which I sat with Martina, whom
the soldiers, in their rude fashion, called "Olaf's Brown Dog." For
brown was her colouring, and she led me from place to place as dogs
are trained to lead blind men. Yet against her the roughest of them
never said an evil word; not from fear, but because they knew that
none could be said.
Martina was talking, she who always loved to talk, if not of one
thing, then of another.
"God-son," she said, "although you are a great grumbler, I tell you
that in my judgment you were born under a lucky star, or saint, call
it which you will. For instance, when you were walking up and down
that Hall of the Pit in the palace at Constantinople, which I always
dream of now if I sup too late----"
"And your spirit, or double, or whatever you call it, was kindly
leading me round the edge of the death-trap," I interrupted.
"----and my spirit, or double, making itself useful for once, was
doing what you say, well, who would have thought that before so very
long you would be the governor, much beloved, of the rich and
prosperous island of Lesbos; still the commander, much beloved, of
troops, many of them your own countrymen, and, although you are blind,
the Imperial general who has dealt the Moslems one of the worst
defeats they have suffered for a long while."
"Jodd and the others did that," I answered. "I only sat here and made
the plans."
"Jodd!" she exclaimed with contempt. "Jodd has no more head for plans
than a doorpost! Although it is true," she added with a softening of
the voice, "that he is a good man to lean on at a pinch, and a very
terrible fighter; also one who can keep such brain as God gave him
cool in the hour of terror, as Irene knows well enough. Yet it was
you, Olaf, not even I, but you, who remembered that the Northmen are
seafolk born, and turned all those trading vessels into war-galleys
and hid them in the little bays with a few of your people in command
of each. It was you who suffered the Moslem fleet to sail unmolested
into the Mitylene harbours, pretending and giving notice that the only
defence would be by land. Then, after they were at anchor and
beginning to disembark, it was you who fell on them at the dawn and
sank and slew till none remained save those of their army who were
taken prisoners or spared for ransom. Yes, and you commanded our ships
in person; and at night who is a better captain than a blind man? Oh!
you did well, very well; and you are rich with Irene's lands, and sit
here in comfort and in honour, with the best of health save for your
blindness, and I repeat that you were born under a lucky star--or
saint."
"Not altogether so, Martina," I answered with a sigh.
"Ah!" she replied, "man can never be content. As usual, you are
thinking of that Egyptian, I mean of the lady Heliodore, of whom, of
course, it is quite right that you should think. Well, it is true that
we have heard nothing of her. Still, that does not mean that we may
not hear. Perhaps Jodd has learned something from those prisoners.
Hark! he comes."
As she spoke I heard the guards salute without and Jodd's heavy step
at the door of the chamber.
"Greeting, General," he said presently. "I bring you good news. The
messengers to the Sultan Harun have returned with the ransom. Also
this Caliph sends a writing signed by himself and his ministers, in
which he swears by God and His Prophet that in consideration of our
giving up our prisoners, among whom, it seems, are some great men,
neither he nor his successors will attempt any new attack upon Lesbos
for thirty years. The interpreter will read it to you to-morrow, and
you can send your answering letters with the prisoners."
"Seeing that these heathen are so many and we are so few, we could
scarcely look for better terms," I said, "as I hope they will think at
Constantinople. At least the prisoners shall sail when all is in
order. Now for another matter. Have you inquired as to the Bishop
Barnabas and the Egyptian Prince Magas and his daughter?"
"Aye, General, this very day. I found that among the prisoners were
three of the commoner sort who have served in Egypt and left that land
not three months ago. Of these men two have never heard of the bishop
or the others. The third, however, who was wounded in the fight, had
some tidings."
"What tidings, Jodd?"
"None that are good, General. The bishop, he says, was killed by
Moslems a while ago, or so he had been told."
"God rest him. But the others, Jodd, what of the others?"
"This. It seems that the Copt, as he called him, Magas, returned from
a long journey, as we know he did, and raised an insurrection
somewhere in the south of Egypt, far up the Nile. An expedition was
sent against him, under one Musa, the Governor of Egypt, and there was
much fighting, in which this prisoner took part. The end of it was
that the Copts who fought with Magas were conquered with slaughter,
Magas himself was slain, for he would not fly, and his daughter, the
lady Heliodore, was taken prisoner with some other Coptic women."
"And then?" I gasped.
"Then, General, she was brought before the Emir Musa, who, noting her
beauty, proposed to make her his slave. At her prayer, however, being,
as the prisoner said, a merciful man, he gave her a week to mourn her
father before she entered his harem. Still, the worst," he went on
hurriedly, "did not happen. Before that week was done, as the Moslem
force was marching down the Nile, she stabbed the eunuch who was in
charge of her and escaped."
"I thank God," I said. "But, Jodd, how is the man sure that she was
Heliodore?"
"Thus: All knew her to be the daughter of Magas, one whom the
Egyptians held in honour. Moreover, among the Moslem soldiers she was
named 'the Lady of the Shells,' because of a certain necklace she
wore, which you will remember."
"What more?" I asked.
"Only that the Emir Musa was very angry at her loss and because of it
caused certain soldiers to be beaten on the feet. Moreover, he halted
his army and offered a reward for her. For two days they hunted, even
searching some tombs where it was thought she might have hidden, but
there found nothing but the dead. Then the Emir returned down the
Nile, and that is the end of the story."
"Send this prisoner to me at once, Jodd, with an interpreter. I would
question him myself."
"I fear he is not fit to come, General."
"Then I will go to him. Lead me, Martina."
"If so, you must go far, General, for he died an hour ago, and his
companions are making him ready for burial."
"Jodd," I said angrily, "those men have been in our hands for weeks.
How comes it that you did not discover these things before? You had my
orders."
"Because, General, until they knew that they were to go free none of
these prisoners would tell us anything. However closely they were
questioned, they said that it was against their oath, and that first
they would die. A long while ago I asked this very man of Egypt, and
he vowed that he had never been there."
"Be comforted, Olaf," broke in Martina, "for what more could he have
told you?"
"Nothing, perchance," I answered; "yet I should have gained many days
of time. Know that I go to Egypt to search for Heliodore."
"Be comforted again," said Martina. "This you could not have done
until the peace was signed; it would have been against your oath and
duty."
"That is so," I answered heavily.
"Olaf," said Martina to me that night after Jodd had left us, "you say
that you will go to Egypt. How will you go? Will the blind Christian
general of the Empire, who has just dealt so great a defeat to the
mighty Caliph of the East, be welcome in Egypt? Above all, will he be
welcomed by the Emir Musa, who rules there, when it is known that he
comes to seek a woman who has escaped from that Emir's harem? Why,
within an hour he'd offer you the choice between death and the Koran.
Olaf, this thing is madness."
"It may be, Martina. Still, I go to seek Heliodore."
"If Heliodore still lives you will not help her by dying, and if she
is dead time will be little to her and she can wait for you a while."
"Yet I go, Martina."
"You, being blind, go to Egypt to seek one whom those who rule there
have searched for in vain. So be it. But how will you go? It cannot be
as an open enemy, since then you would need a fleet and ten thousand
swords to back you, which you have not. To take a few brave men,
unless they were Moslems, which is impossible, would be but to give
them to death. How do you go, Olaf?"
"I do not know, Martina. Your brain is more nimble than mine; think,
think, and tell me."
I heard Martina rise and walk up and down the room for a long time. At
length she returned and sat herself by me again.
"Olaf," she said, "you always had a taste for music. You have told me
that as a boy in your northern home you used to play upon the harp and
sing songs to it of your own making, and now, since you have been
blind, you have practised at this art till you are its master. Also,
my voice is good; indeed, it is my only gift. It was my voice that
first brought me to Irene's notice, when I was but the daughter of a
poor Greek gentleman who had been her father's friend and therefore
was given a small place about the Court. Of late we have sung many
songs together, have we not, certain of them in that northern tongue,
of which you have taught me something?"
"Yes, Martina; but what of it?"
"You are dull, Olaf. I have heard that these Easterns love music,
especially if it be of a sort they do not know. Why, therefore, should
not a blind man and his daughter--no, his orphaned niece--earn an
honest living as travelling musicians in Egypt? These Prophet
worshippers, I am told, think it a great sin to harm one who is maimed
--a poor northern trader in amber who has been robbed by Christian
thieves. Rendered sightless also that he might not be able to swear to
them before the judges, and now, with his sister's child, winning his
bread as best he may. Like you, Olaf, I have skill in languages, and
even know enough of Arabic to beg in it, for my mother, who was a
Syrian, taught it to me as a child, and since we have been here I have
practised. What say you?"
"I say that we might travel as safely thus as in any other way. Yet,
Martina, how can I ask you to tie such a burden on your back?"
"Oh! no need to ask, Olaf, since Fate bound it there when it made me
your--god-mother. Where you go I needs must go also, until you are
married," she added with a laugh. "Afterwards, perhaps, you will need
me no more. Well, there's a plan, for what it is worth, and now we'll
sleep on it, hoping to find a better. Pray to St. Michael to-night,
Olaf."
As it chanced, St. Michael gave me no light, so the end of it was that
I determined to play this part of a blind harper. In those days there
was a trade between Lesbos and Egypt in cedar wood, wool, wine for the
Copts, for the Moslems drank none, and other goods. Peace having been
declared between the island and the Caliph, a small vessel was laden
with such merchandise at my cost, and a Greek of Lesbos, Menas by
name, put in command of it as the owner, with a crew of sailors whom I
could trust to the death.
To these men, who were Christians, I told my business, swearing them
to secrecy by the most holy of all oaths. But, alas! as I shall show,
although I could trust these sailors when they were masters of
themselves, I could not trust them, or, rather, one of them, when wine
was his master. In our northern land we had a saying that "Ale is
another man," and now its truth was to be proved to me, not for the
first time.
When all was ready I made known my plans to Jodd alone, in whose hands
I left a writing to say what must be done if I returned no more. To
the other officers and the soldiers I said only that I proposed to
make a journey in this trading ship disguised as a merchant, both for
my health's sake and to discover for myself the state of the
surrounding countries, and especially of the Christians in Egypt.
When he had heard all, Jodd, although he was a hopeful-minded man,
grew sad over this journey, which I could see he thought would be my
last.
"I expected no less," he said; "and yet, General, I trusted that your
saint might keep your feet on some safer path. Doubtless this lady
Heliodore is dead, or fled, or wed; at least, you will never find
her."
"Still, I must search for her, Jodd."
"You are a blind man. How can you search?"
Then an idea came to him, and he added,
"Listen, General. I and the rest of us swore to protect the lady
Heliodore and to be as her father or her brothers. Do you bide here. I
will go to search for her, either with a vessel full of armed men, or
alone, disguised."
Now I laughed outright and asked,
"What disguise is there that would hide the giant Jodd, whose fame the
Moslem spies have spread throughout the East? Why, on the darkest
night your voice would betray you to all within a hundred paces. And
what use would one shipload of armed men be against the forces of the
Emir of Egypt? No, no, Jodd, whatever the danger I must go and I
alone. If I am killed, or do not return within eight months, I have
named you to be Governor of Lesbos, as already you have been named my
deputy by Constantine, which appointment will probably be confirmed."
"I do not want to be Governor of Lesbos," said Jodd. "Moreover, Olaf,"
he added slowly, "a blind beggar must have his dog to lead him, his
brown dog. You cannot go alone, Olaf. Those dangers of which you speak
must be shared by another."
"That is so, and it troubles me much. Indeed, it is in my mind to seek
some other guide, for I think this one would be safest here in your
charge. You must reason with her, Jodd. One can ask too much, even of
a god-mother."
"Of a god-mother! Why not say of a grandmother? By Thor! Olaf, you are
blind indeed. Still, I'll try. Hush! here she comes to say that our
supper is ready."
At our meal several others were present, besides the serving folk, and
the talk was general. After it was done I had an interview with some
officers. These left, and I sat myself down upon a cushioned couch,
and, being tired, there fell asleep, till I was awakened, or, rather,
half awakened by voices talking in the garden without. They were those
of Jodd and Martina, and Martina was saying,
"Cease your words. I and no one else will go on this Egyptian quest
with Olaf. If we die, as I dare say we shall, what does it matter? At
least he shall not die alone."
"And if the quest should fail, Martina? I mean if he should not find
the lady Heliodore and you should happen both to return safe, what
then?"
"Why, then--nothing, except that as it has been, so it will be. I
shall continue to play my part, as is my duty and my wish. Do you not
remember that I am Olaf's god-mother?"
"Yes, I remember. Still, I have heard somewhere that the Christian
Church never ties a knot which it cannot unloose--for a proper fee,
and for my part I do not know why a man should not marry one of
different blood because she has been named his god-mother before a
stone vessel by a man in a broidered robe. You say I do not understand
such matters. Perhaps, so let them be. But, Martina, let us suppose
that this strange search were to succeed, and Olaf has a way of
succeeding where others would fail. For instance, who else could have
escaped alive out of the hand of Irene and become governor of Lesbos,
and, being blind, yet have planned a great victory? Well, supposing
that by the help of gods or men--or women--he should find this
beautiful Heliodore, unwed and still willing, and that they should
marry. What then, Martina?"
"Then, Captain Jodd," she answered slowly, "if you are yet of the same
mind we may talk again. Only remember that I ask no promises and make
none."
"So you go to Egypt with Olaf?"
"Aye, certainly, unless I should die first, and perhaps even then. You
do not understand? Oh! of course you do not understand, nor can I stop
to explain to you. Captain Jodd, I am going to Egypt with a certain
blind beggar, whose name I forget at the moment, but who is my uncle,
where no doubt I shall see many strange things. If ever I come back I
will tell you about them, and, meanwhile, good night."
