Chapter Fifteen.
Dick Cavendish loses his Temper.
Earle thought he had good reason to congratulate himself upon the success with which he had grappled the problem of human sacrifice in connection with the septennial festival in honour of Kuhlacan; for, at the first, his pronouncement seemed to meet with universal approval. Yet but a few days elapsed before it was apparent that even so humanitarian an edict as Earle’s, one which, it might have been supposed, would appeal more or less directly to everybody, was not without its objectors. True, those objectors were only to be found among those who had not, and were not in the least likely to have, daughters who might be reckoned as “eligible”; yet it was really surprising to find how many of these there were. Precisely why they objected it was very difficult to ascertain; but it was thought that the reason was that the “sacrifice” afforded an exciting spectacle to persons of a cruel, morbid and vicious disposition. Also, it soon began to be hinted that although Zorah, the high priest, had seemed to acquiesce in the innovation, the priesthood were in reality opposed to and were secretly stirring up the people to rebel against it.
Meanwhile, however, Earle had earned the undying gratitude of the king, the princess, and several of the most powerful and influential of the nobles, who treated him and Dick with greater respect and reverence than ever. The preparations for the festival proceeded apace; and to compensate the masses for the loss of the most spectacular feature of the event, Earle and Dick inaugurated a series of games and sports, with valuable prizes for those successful in them, sufficient in number to occupy the entire day; so that when that day arrived, it not only passed without any marked demonstration of dissatisfaction, but was pronounced to be a distinct improvement upon the old order of things.
True, it was not possible for those who keenly watched the demeanour of the crowd to avoid noticing that the satisfaction was by no means general; and another disconcerting fact in connection with the festival was that, when it was over and Zorah was requested to report to Earle the amount presented in the temple on that day, in lieu of the usual offerings cast into the lake, the sum named by the high priest was disappointingly meagre, amounting to less than a tenth of what had been anticipated. Earle mentioned privately to Dick his suspicion that there had been a tremendous amount of leakage somewhere, and expressed his determination to look into the matter at the earliest possible opportunity; but before he could do so his attention was distracted from it by other and more important happenings.
The first of these happenings was the sudden and wholly unexpected death of the king. When he retired to rest on the preceding night, Juda appeared to be in the enjoyment of perfect health; but when his servants entered the royal sleeping-apartment on the following morning to arouse his Majesty and attend him to the bath, he was found lying dead upon his couch, with every indication that dissolution had taken place several hours previously. Of course, the court physicians were instantly summoned; but they could do nothing except pronounce that death had actually occurred, and that it was due to natural causes. To the great surprise of Earle and Dick, no attempt was made to hold a post mortem, with the object of ascertaining the actual cause of death; but a little judicious inquiry soon elicited the fact that such investigations were unknown in Ulua, the skill and knowledge of the physicians not having advanced so far. With the permission of the princess, Earle was present when the physicians viewed the body, and he was compelled to admit that there was nothing in its appearance to justify the slightest suspicion of foul play, which indeed nobody so much as hinted at. Earle gave it as his opinion that the cause of death was some obscure and unsuspected affection of the heart.
Simultaneously with the summoning of the physicians upon the discovery of the royal demise, the “Council of Nobles”—a council, the functions of which correspond in some measure with those of the British Cabinet—was summoned to the palace; and it was to the members of this that the physicians formally reported the death of the king. Thereupon steps were immediately taken for the public announcement of the event, which took place at noon of the same day, the heralds proclaiming the death of the king and the accession of the Princess Myrra to the throne, first in the square before the palace, and next in four other squares situated respectively in the northern, southern, eastern, and western quarters of the city. And at the same time the state embalmers were called in and the body was handed over to them that they might at once begin the long and elaborate process by means of which the subject is rendered practically impervious, for all time, to the influences of decay.
The young queen was now allowed a clear week of complete retirement, in order that she might give free vent to her natural grief at the loss of her grandfather, and prepare herself for the discharge of the important duties which would now devolve upon her, during which period she was left entirely to herself, and was not asked to transact business of any sort whatsoever. At the expiration of the week she emerged from her seclusion, a little pale and worn-looking, but to all appearance perfectly calm, as the two white men were rejoiced to see, for it now transpired that the religious beliefs of the Uluans were such as to preclude anything in the nature of deep or lasting sorrow at the loss of relatives, an article of their faith being that the departed, unless they happened to be notoriously evil livers, found everlasting peace and happiness in a sort of Elysium, and that therefore there was no occasion for prolonged grief.
No sooner, however, did the young queen emerge from her temporary seclusion than she found herself face to face with a problem which, unless all the conditions are favourable, may easily resolve itself into one of the most unpleasant which a young woman so placed can be called upon to solve.
For it now appeared that Myrra occupied a position unique in the annals of Uluan sovereignty, being the only female who had ever succeeded to the throne. All the past monarchs had been male, from time immemorial; and the fact that a female had now succeeded, and she only a young girl, filled the Council of Nobles with consternation, which is easily to be comprehended, when it is remembered that in Ulua women are regarded as being so far inferior to men that they are considered as mere chattels and but little better than domestic animals. A Council of Nobles had already been convened to discuss so novel and disconcerting a situation, at which one more than usually daring spirit had actually ventured to suggest the election of one of themselves to fill the vacated throne. But this suggestion had been promptly vetoed by Lyga, the “Keeper of Statutes,” who, referring to the musty tome in which were the laws relating to the government of Ulua, reminded the council that the law of succession explicitly provides that, upon the death of the sovereign, his next immediate successor becomes monarch. Or, failing an immediate successor, through pre-decease—as in the present case—then, the immediate successor of him who should have succeeded comes to the throne. The title of Princess Myrra to the throne was thus indubitably established, and the only question really before the council was how so unique a situation was to be met. A long and heated discussion followed, in the course of which two facts were clearly established, the first of which was that, by the law of succession, Myrra was now the Queen of Ulua; and the second, that the idea of being governed by a woman was utterly distasteful to the members of the Council of Nobles. Finally, it was decided that, since by immemorial custom, the Uluan wife was the subject of her husband, the only thing to be done was to request the queen to marry, when her husband would become virtually king. This decision was regarded as a quite satisfactory solution of the difficulty; and it was immediately proposed that a list of approved names should be there and then prepared for submission to her Majesty, and that she should be invited to select from that list the person whom she would accept as her spouse.
So far, so good. But now, at the very moment when the great difficulty appeared to have been surmounted, other and equally awkward difficulties at once began to arise. The position of husband to the queen was one which naturally appealed to every member of the council, and equally naturally, each member claimed the right to have his name included in the list. Sachar, the most powerful of the nobles—he who had suggested the election of one of themselves to fill the throne—seized a parchment and, with the air of an autocrat, at once inscribed his own name at the head of the list, without deigning to inquire whether such action was or was not acceptable to his colleagues. Then, still retaining the pen in his hand, he glanced round at the assemblage and said:
“I propose that the next name upon the list shall be that of Lyga, the Keeper of Statutes.”
For a moment the members regarded each other in amazement; then, under the impression that Sachar was perpetrating an ill-timed jest of more than questionable taste, they broke into a storm of protest; for Lyga was a little wizened, dried-up man, close upon eighty years of age.
But Sachar answered their protests with a stare of haughty surprise that quickly silenced them, for not only was he the most powerful man among them, but he was also of a headstrong, domineering disposition, impatient of opposition and quick to resent anything that in the least degree savoured of it. He was by no means popular, either with his colleagues or with the people at large; but he was greatly feared, because of the immense power and influence which he commanded, and the unscrupulous manner in which he wielded it.
“What mean ye?” he fiercely demanded. “Am I to understand that ye object to Lyga as unsuitable? And if so, upon what grounds? Is he not the ‘Keeper of Statutes,’ and as such, the most suitable man for the position of virtual ruler of Ulua? For who among ye knows a tithe so much as he of the laws by which we are governed; or who so likely to see that those laws are maintained in perfect integrity?”
“So far, perhaps ye are right, Sachar,” retorted Lyga, who was the only man present entirely devoid of fear of the formidable noble. “But is my age to be counted as nothing? Am I a suitable consort for a girl of sixteen? Ye know that I am not; and ye know, too, that if the choice rested between me and thee, thou would’st be the chosen one. Go to! Ye are astute, Sachar, but not astute enough to deceive old Lyga. If ye are taking it upon yourself to propose names, propose those of men who shall not only be capable of efficiently discharging the duties of their exalted position, but who shall also be acceptable to her Majesty in point of age and disposition. I say that, in nominating such a man as myself, ye are lacking in respect and consideration to your sovereign.”
There was a low murmur of approval at this fearless, straightforward speech from the old man, hearing which, Sachar, who perceived that his ruse had been seen through, savagely dashed down the pen and, wheeling round upon his colleagues, exclaimed:
“So ye approve of and endorse the unworthy insinuation which Lyga has preferred against me? It is well! Proceed ye with your nominations, uninfluenced by me. My aim was to nominate those who, by wisdom and experience, are most suited to rule over us, irrespective of age or other considerations. But since ye have seen fit to suspect my motives, nominate whom ye will. Understand this, however, I demand that my name shall be included, for I am at least as capable of governing as any man among ye; and understand this also, that I retain my right to vote against those nominated whom I may regard as unsuitable.”
And therewith Sachar bowed to the assembly, a bow in which scorn and contempt were about equally expressed, and stalked out of the chamber.
For a few moments consternation reigned supreme among those who remained, for they knew Sachar well, and clearly understood that, quite unwittingly, they had made a bitter and implacable enemy of the most powerful and unscrupulous man in Ulua. But presently Lyga grappled with the situation and, with a few carefully chosen words, rallied his colleagues upon their alarm, which he assured them was altogether disproportioned and uncalled for, and brought them back to the business in hand, with the result that, after a long and acrimonious discussion, a list was drafted, containing some twenty names, for submission to her Majesty.
In due course the list was presented, with all the state and ceremony which so momentous an occasion demanded. And then consternation again reigned; for the young queen, after carefully perusing the list, handed it back to Sachar, who had presented it, with the calm pronouncement that none of the names therein was acceptable to her!
Thereupon the council retired in confusion; another meeting was held, another list prepared—in which Sachar insisted that his name should be included, notwithstanding the queen’s previous rejection; and her Majesty was requested to name an early date for its presentation, which she did.
The second presentation took place at about half-past nine o’clock in the morning, a few minutes prior to which the Council of Nobles, having previously assembled in the antechamber, filed in and took their places. These were immediately followed by a squadron of the queen’s bodyguard, fully armed, under the command of their officer, who drew them up across the lower end of the chamber, completely blocking all means of exit or entrance, except through the doorway at the upper end of the chamber, used exclusively by the monarch and his or her personal attendants. This done, a court messenger was dispatched to acquaint the queen that the council had assembled; and a few minutes later her Majesty entered, heralded by a flourish of trumpets moulded out of a sort of terra-cotta, and, accompanied by the ladies and officers of her household, among whom were Earle and Dick.
With slow and dignified step her Majesty moved to the throne and, bowing to the assembled council, seated herself, at the same time signing to the two white men to stand one on either side of her, to the undisguised astonishment of the nobles and the scarcely concealed indignation of Sachar.
A short pause now ensued while the members of council, who had risen upon the queen’s entrance, seated themselves. Then Sachar, who occupied the place at the head of the table on the queen’s right hand, rose to his feet and, addressing her Majesty, made a lengthy speech, in which he set forth, in considerable detail, all the reasons which had led up to the present action of the council, reminded her of her rejection of the first list presented, and in veiled dictatorial tones, ventured to express the hope that her Majesty would experience no difficulty in selecting a name from the list now about to be laid before her. Then he unrolled the parchment and, with a bow which seemed to say: “This is your last chance, so make the best of it,” laid it upon the table before her.
Bowing in return, and with just the faintest suggestion of a smile lurking about her lips and in her eyes, Myrra stretched forth her hand and, taking the parchment began to read it. But no sooner had her eyes rested upon it than she laid it down again.
“How now, my Lord Sachar!” she exclaimed. “What means this?” And she laid her finger upon the place where his name again occupied the head of the list. “Have ye here the list which was first submitted to me?”
“No, your Majesty, we have it not here,” answered Sachar. “Understanding that the names therein were unacceptable, we thought it unnecessary to produce it. But it can be procured in a very brief space of time, if your Majesty so desires.”
“I do so desire,” remarked the queen. “Let it be brought forthwith.” And she sank back in her seat to await the arrival of the document.
A few minutes later Lyga, in whose charge it was, appeared with the first list, which he laid open upon the table before the queen. He wore a smile of amusement as he hobbled back to his place, for in common with most of the members of council, he pretty shrewdly guessed what was impending, and he would very cordially welcome anything that savoured of a snub administered to the haughty and domineering Lord Sachar.
“So!” continued the queen, placing a slim forefinger upon each of the documents. “I felt sure I was not mistaken. The name of my Lord Sachar heads each of these documents. Yet I think it will be remembered that, only a few days agone, I distinctly stated that none of the names in this list”—tapping Number 1 with her left forefinger—“was acceptable to me. How comes it, then, that a name once rejected by me is again submitted for my approval?”
And, so saying, Myrra stretched forth her hand and, taking the reed pen which Lyga smilingly handed to her, drew it firmly and deliberately through Sachar’s sprawling signature.
For a moment there was a breathless hush, while the very atmosphere seemed to shudder in anticipation of that tempestuous and irreparable outbreak on the part of Sachar which the queen’s deliberate snub might be expected to provoke. The man’s sallow visage grew black with fury, his eyes blazed lightnings down upon the head of the girl who was smilingly erasing his name, his fists clenched until the knuckles showed white, and his beard and moustache bristled like the mane of an angry lion. Indeed, so menacing was his aspect that Dick Cavendish, with a single stride, interposed his own bulky form between that of the queen and the infuriated Sachar, into whose flashing eyes he stared so threateningly that the noble suddenly found a new object for the vials of his wrath. But Dick simply did not care a fig for Sachar or his anger; he already knew the man pretty well by reputation, and instinctively understood that there was but one way to deal with a bully, therefore he laid a heavy hand upon the noble’s shoulder, glared as savagely at him as he knew how, and whispered—a whisper which reached the ears of every occupant of the table:
“Have a care, my lord; have a care! Restrain yourself, sit down if you don’t want me to wring your neck for you!”
And Sachar, who had never in his life before been cautioned, much less threatened, sank into his seat, speechless and utterly overwhelmed with amazement, for the moment, at the discovery that there actually existed an individual who was not afraid of him.
Meanwhile, the queen, with the pen still in her hand, was thoughtfully considering the list before her and calmly and deliberately erasing name after name, until not one remained. Then, with a smile, Myrra glanced at the faces turned toward her, and remarked:
“I am sorry, my lords, that you should have been put to so much trouble to no purpose, but the names in this list are no more acceptable to me than were those in the first.”
Sachar had been watching the steady process of erasure with fast growing anger. He believed he began to see the full meaning of the queen’s action. She did not intend to wed at all if she could help it, and unless she could be compelled to do so, his chance of becoming king was gone. If she could only be induced to name some person as acceptable, he believed he could find means to persuade that person to waive the honour in his (Sachar’s) favour; but if she would not do so, what was to be done? Therefore, when the queen lightly pushed the rejected list from before her, Sachar sprang to his feet and, addressing the assembly at large, said:
“My lords, we seem to be singularly unfortunate in our endeavours to find a consort in every way acceptable to her Majesty. To me it seems possible that we may compile list after list of names regarded by ourselves as in every respect eligible, and every list shall meet with a fate like unto that now upon the table. I would therefore venture to suggest that the process be reversed, and that instead of our drafting a list and presenting it for her Majesty’s approval, the Queen be requested to prepare a list of persons acceptable to her, and submit it to us. Then we, in council assembled, will take that list, give it our most careful consideration, and decide whether there be any names in it of which we can all conscientiously approve. What say you, my lords; does my proposal seem acceptable to you?”
A momentary silence followed this proposal; then, one after another, the assembled nobles briefly expressed their acquiescence, finishing up with old Lyga, who pithily remarked:
“If her Majesty approves your proposal, my Lord Sachar, I see not why any of us should disapprove.”
“That being the case—” began Sachar. But the queen stopped him with uplifted hand.
“One moment, if you please,” she said. “If I understand the council aright, their purpose in all this talk about lists, is to hurry me into marriage, irrespective of my own inclinations. Now, my Lord Lyga, before we proceed farther into this matter, I wish to ask you, as Keeper of Statutes: Is there in existence a law compelling me to wed at the bidding of my Council of Nobles?”
“I am not aware of any such law, your Majesty,” answered Lyga. “Nay, I will go farther than this, and say that, knowing the statutes intimately as I do, there is no such law.”
“Good!” answered the queen. “I have never heard of any such law, but in view of my council’s somewhat high-handed action, I thought it possible such a law might exist, of which I had not heard. You say that there is no such law; and I trust my council will accept your assurance as proof of its non-existence. Now, one more question. Is there a law prohibiting an unmarried woman from ruling Ulua?”
“No, your Majesty, there is no such law,” answered Lyga. And the glance of triumph which he flashed at Sachar seemed to say that he was glad of it.
“Again, good!” remarked the queen. “My thanks to you, my Lord Lyga, for making this matter perfectly clear. And my thanks to you also, the members of my council, for the keen interest which you have been pleased to manifest in a matter which, now that it comes to be investigated, seems to concern me alone. Believe me, I appreciate that interest at its true and full value; but I beg that you will not trouble yourselves further in the matter, for the thought of marriage has not yet occurred to me, and at the present moment I am not prepared to entertain a proposal from anyone. When I am, I will let you know, and the matter can be re-opened. Meanwhile, I will seize this opportunity to say that I believe I, though unmarried, shall be able, with your wise advice and assistance, to govern Ulua as efficiently as though I enjoyed the help of a husband.”
For a moment the members of council were stricken dumb with amazement and consternation at the quiet, self-possessed firmness with which this young girl deliberately set herself in opposition to their combined wishes. And the worst of it was that, as they now fully realised, she was acting entirely within her rights.
They were still struggling with their emotions when Sachar, always bitterly impatient of opposition, and always accustomed to act upon the impulse of the moment, sprang to his feet, his eyes ablaze with fury, and shouted:
“My lords, fellow members of the Council of Nobles, are you going to submit without protest to this most monstrous disregard of our wishes? Because, if you are, I am not. I say that, law or no law, we will not be governed by a woman. The queen must and shall marry forthwith; and if she will not choose for herself a husband, acceptable to us all, we will choose one for her and compel her to marry him, by force, if necessary—”
He stopped suddenly and sank helplessly back into his seat, forced thereto by the irresistible pressure of Dick’s hands upon his shoulders, the grip of which threatened to crush his shoulder-blades together. And, looking up, he found Dick Cavendish towering over him with a look in his eyes that seemed to spell sudden death to the rash offender. For three or four seconds Dick, still retaining that frightful and agonising grip upon Sachar’s shoulders, glowered at the now writhing noble; then he shook the unfortunate man with such furious violence that Sachar’s teeth not only clicked together like castanets, but they also bit his tongue through as he attempted to speak.
By this time the whole chamber was in an uproar, every man having started to his feet in terror of what should happen next. A few of the more timid ones were hastily leaving their seats and beating a precipitate retreat toward the door, only to be stopped, however, by the crossed halberds of the guard. Lyga was the only noble who seemed in nowise disconcerted by so extraordinary a happening, and he stood smiling benevolently on Dick while the latter was manhandling the enraged yet terrified Sachar. Several of the other nobles, however, anxious to curry favour with Sachar, hastened to his assistance, and strove unavailingly to break Dick’s grip, while the captain of the guard, accompanied by a file of soldiers, having responded to Dick’s call, now stood uncertainly by, at a loss to know whether or not he ought to obey the young Englishman’s order to arrest a noble and member of the council.
This state of uncertainty on the part of the captain of the guard did not pass wholly unnoticed by those present, a few of whom loudly protested against the arrest as illegal, in that it had been ordered by one without authority.
“Ha! say you so?” cried the queen, also rising to her feet. “Then that is a matter to be easily remedied.” Turning to Dick, she added:
“My Lord Dick, I appoint you Captain-General of my bodyguard, here and now. And I authorise you to arrest my Lord Sachar and lodge him in prison.”