II.
THE REVEL
A solitary figure crossed the court on the pyramid, where the cluster of state buildings was located. Although he went toward the palace, he lagged like an unwelcome guest at a feast. The night was not cold but he shivered and wrapped his cloak around him. Behind him lay the great stone amphitheatre, with its tier after tier of seats, vaulted by the starlit sky. To the north loomed the great temple, surmounted by its tower. The somber blackness was relieved only by the sacred fire that burned on top. Ahead of him reposed the royal palace, resplendent as a jewel in its setting of perfumed gardens. Sounds of music and revelry issued from the casement, and the guest stopped to take a deep breath of the sweet night air before he plunged into the hot-house brilliance beyond.
As he entered the great banquet hall, many eyes turned that way. Alma had thrown off his cloak, displaying a purple tunic that enhanced the gold of his hair and the blue of his eyes. His short robe was caught in at the waist by a girdle of sapphires, and his lower limbs were bare save for the thongs of buckskin, extending from his sandals, which were strapped around them. It was not the beauty of the graceful young cavalier that attracted attention, but the whisper had gone forth that he was out of favor at court. That was what had brought him there to face it out, to show he was not afraid. For the most part, the guests whose brains were not addled with wine were absorbed in their own affairs, for the hour was late and the diners at the banquet table, which was heavy with its gold and silver service, were on the last course. It consisted of dainty dishes of snow, brought on the backs of men from the distant volcano, delicately flavored with the grated rind of limes. Goblets brimming with odoriferous wines were constantly being refilled, but the real revelry was just begun. Before morning the great jars that stood on the buffet, that extended all around the great banquet room, would be overturned and emptied. Beside them were baskets laden with fruit—the gold of the tropics—bunches of purple grapes, pomegranates, tunas, oranges, pineapples, bananas, achuacates (the butter that grows on trees) and wild plums.
Above these, on the wall, was a fresco of naiads, while the magnificent ceiling was of green and gold. Oh, he had an eye for beauty, had King Noah;—too much for his good. A crowd of musicians played barbaric music, a troupe of acrobats performed in an ante room, while from the corridor came peals of laughter.
Alma ran his eye along the table. The king leered into the face of the ever-present Amulon, while on his left the buffoon, Omo, discoursed coarse jests. Suddenly Alma's heart stood still and then sickened. Could that be Zara, the daughter of Gideon, in the party of the princess? Yes, it was Zara, looking more radiant than ever. What was she doing in the palace of the king? From the shadow of the curtains he watched her with troubled eyes. A smile played on her expressive face and her eyes were bright with excitement. He waited impatiently until they rose from the table, but before he could get to her she was gone.
A few minutes later she appeared with the dancers. How beautiful she looked, cream robed, with golden orchids in her hair! The intoxication of the dance set his blood to throbbing, but he noticed with rising resentment that he was not the only one interested in the new beauty. Alma wandered around the hall shunned by all, for it is not wise to flatter the one on whom the king frowns. He watched his chance, then went to speak to Zara. She rose to meet him, and there was genuine pleasure in her tone.
"Why, Alma, I've been looking for you so long."
"Is that what brought you here, my lady?" he asked tensely.
"It was the king's palanquin that brought me here," she answered archly.
His brow lowered. "Perhaps the same conveyance will carry you back?"
"Perhaps."
"Zara, I don't like to see you here."
"Why not? It is glorious! I love the magnificence of the court. It is breath to my nostrils. I have never lived before."
"Your eyes are blinded by the gilded surface and you do not see the rottenness beneath. When you know it as well as I—" and he laughed bitterly. "I cannot understand," he added soberly, "how your father allows you here, when he objected to me simply because I belonged to the court, though I hate everything that is connected with it."
"My father—you might know—he did not send me here. I came by the order of the king."
Alma looked startled. "Do you know what for?"
She shrugged her shoulders. "No one asks his reasons of the king."
"Yes, but there is a reason. You had better go away from here, my lady. This is no place for you."
"I cannot," she said simply. "Besides, I tell you, Alma, it is not the place, but the person. A pure-minded person can be good anywhere, the evil always find means to sate their appetites."
"No one is safe in the palace; you must go away."
"If I should leave, what then? I should be brought back again. You are satiated with all this. It opens a new world to me. I intend to see it," she cried, almost angrily.
She turned to talk to some young bloods, who were hovering around her, and Alma was dismissed. Realizing his failure with the girl, he turned his steps toward the king. If he were not in disfavor, he might have her released. At least there was a chance to find out why she was there, he argued.
He approached the throne, bowed, and murmured, "I have a petition to make, your majesty."
The king stared coolly past him, as if he did not see him, and went on talking to Amulon, while Alma retreated, reddening to the ears, as a titter arose behind palm leaf fans. His disgrace was now complete, and he thought the next move would be assassins. "Well, Abinadi, you may have company," he muttered. He wandered aimlessly about in a daze, finally going to the gaming tables for, though he did not gamble himself, he hoped to drown his misery in the excitement of the players.
* * * * *
Zara stood in the shadow of the palms at the entrance to the patio. The revel was beginning to pall on her with its grossness. True, the musicians had been replaced with others, and as she listened, the strains of "The Heavens for a Kiss" floated out to her. Many of the lights were out and what remained burned badly, but they were sufficient to display sights from which her whole soul shrank. Omo lay across the end of the table, his bull neck kinked so his heavy breathing could be heard all over the room. Omner had tipped over a wine jar, and lay on the floor with his head in a red pool that looked like blood. Himni was pouring cold water down the neck of a servant girl, while he explained that it would make her lips red. Mulek's dominating voice roared above all others. Some callow youths were trying to sing. Nobody knew where the king was. Most of the girls had departed, and Zara, for the first time, felt lonely and scared. She wished Alma would come. She heard a footstep behind her; then a door pulled to. She listened, thinking it was he.
"So, I have found you at last, my dove!"
She uttered a startled cry and looked up to see the great form of Amulon towering above her. His eyes glowed like fires in the dark.
"Come!" he coaxed. "How these arms have ached for you!"
"Let me go!" she cried fiercely, struggling, like a frightened bird in his grasp.
"Fight away, my pretty. My, how tigerish we are! I faith, I believe that is why I love you!"
"I shall cry for help."
"Who is there to hear you?"
"I shall expose you to the king."
"He will not believe you."
"Then Alma shall intercede in my behalf."
Amulon laughed. "Alma! he is already a doomed man."
"My father shall carry my case before the king!" she cried in a panic.
"Why did the king have you brought here? To grace the train of Otalitza, when there are a hundred women fighting for the place you occupy? Why, I say, except at my request? If you spurn me, the king will claim you. Take your choice."
Seeing the hopelessness of her case, woman's wit, which has been her chief weapon since the world began, came to her rescue. She slipped up her arms and encircled his head, kissing his handsome, bruised-looking lips.
"Amulon," she whispered, "I am not a slave to be coerced. What I do, I must do of my own free will, without force."
"You are right," he said, won by her speedy capitulation. He instantly freed her, for he was as generous as he was passionate.
"Your lips are like the desert and your brow is fevered. See, I will bath it in the fountain." She darted forward, and as he stumbled after her and fell headlong on the pavement, she did not stop to look back, but kept right on.
* * * * *
The breeze that precedes the dawn was stirring when a white-robed figure stole out on the roof garden of the palace. She started back when, on turning a corner, she was confronted by a man muffled in a long cloak.
"Zara!"
"Oh, Alma, I am so glad!" and she wrung her hands in relief.
"Why are you here alone at this time?"
"I could not sleep. So many strange things have happened. And you?"
"I could not sleep, either. I searched for you, last night, but could not find you. Where did you go?"
"To the inner patio."
"With whom?"
"Amulon."
"Amulon! So, that is why you came to the palace?"
"He said as much."
"And I have ruined myself at court through espousing the cause of the Prophet Abinadi."
"So Amulon intimated."
"Where is he?"
"Down the well, for aught I know. I fled from him, and he gave chase. He was half drunk and stumbled over the fountain curbing, but whether he pitched in or not I do not know. I didn't stop to look back."
"He didn't; trust his luck for that. And you? How did you get out?"
"Why, through the court of the lions, of course."
"They might have killed you."
"So I thought; but the king's ocelots are well fed. They did not care to get up to dine off me in the middle of the night."
The rainbow colors of the dawn of the tropics illumined the sky to the east, and below, the hills were swathed in pearl gray mist. Alma breathed deep as he looked at Zara, fresh and radiant as the morning itself. The fleecy robe she had slipped on parted at the throat, her dark head was swathed in a pale blue gauze, broidered with silver stars, and not all the turmoil of the night could disguise the fact that she was young and glad to be alive. As she lifted a slender, rounded, white arm to indicate the violet and orange of the horizon, Alma caught her in his arms.
"Come with me," he whispered, "away from this wicked place. Let me teach you the principles of Abinadi. Together let us live our lives as he has taught, in conformity with the will of the Lord."
"Abinadi!" she murmured. "I already believe in him, although he has taught the strange doctrine that we must return good for evil, instead of demanding an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth. But you must teach me. Alma," she added fearfully, "for there are many things I do not understand. And this strange doctrine of repentance, that they talk so much about—"
"The king had better take to heart," Alma finished grimly. "Would that the scales might fall from his eyes, as they have from mine!"
"He is going to put Abinadi to death?"
"So I fear."
"And you?"
"Oh, I shall take up the work where he left off. I'm afraid his mantle will fall on unworthy shoulders. I have carefully written down all his words, and I shall teach them to the people when he is gone. I consecrate my life to the work. God grant me strength and light to do it well!"
"Does Abinadi know?"
"Yes; I go now to visit him in his cell."
"Tarry a little, Sir Prophet," she commanded, running her hand through his yellow hair.
Together they watched the sun rise. The mocking birds sang riotously. The lavender flowers of the bougainvilaea drooped in the garden, while from the patio below the air came laden with the heavy odor of the blossom called "The Perfume of the Night." The lovers did not notice that with it was mingled the scent of the illomened "Flower of the Dead."