Safely hidden behind her costly screen, the beautiful princess watched the contest, and the victor won not only the plaudits of the multitude, but also the heart of Nahīd; the prince rode quietly away, but the princess went to her rooms, with her cheeks flushed and her heart beating with terror. Already offers had been received from foreign courts for her hand, and her father had hesitated only to find a more powerful ally. Full well she knew that, according to the custom of the East, she was liable to be bargained away at any time, without even a question in relation to her own preference, for the Eastern woman is supposed to give her affection wherever policy decides that her hand shall go. At last she went to her faithful nurse, and told the story of her love for the stranger, told her how impossible it would be for her to love any other than the gallant youth who now held her heart in his hands, and declared that she would take her own life if she were compelled to marry another.
The nurse was frightened by her strong emotion, and hastened to the queen with the information; the mother received the message with great agitation, and soon afterward she sought the presence of the king. Long and carefully the subject was considered, for they were both favorably impressed with the stranger, but an alliance of the royal house could not be lightly made, and whatever might be the accomplishments of Meher they were obliged to content themselves with his own representations, for surely there could be no good reason why a man of royal birth should deny his parentage.
No decision was made, but it must be confessed that Meher stood still nearer to their hearts on account of the love which their only daughter bore him. Although a confessed favorite at court, and living in the enjoyment of luxury, the heart of the prince was oppressed with grief and loneliness, for he constantly mourned the absence of his friend, and the fearful uncertainty which hung over his fate.
THE CONFLICT.
A messenger from the king of Samarcānd bore to the court of Keiwan an offer for the hand of the princess, for the fame of her wondrous loveliness had spread through all the neighboring kingdoms. The ambassador came laden with the costliest jewels and the richest brocades of the East as presents for the bride, for there was no thought in the heart of King Kāra Khān that his offer might be refused.
Keiwan had long considered the fading rose on the cheek of his beloved daughter, and more than once he had asked himself if her happiness was not worth as much as an alliance with some neighboring monarch, who was liable to betray his trust whenever it might be considered profitable to do so.
There was a shade of superiority, too, in the manner of the ambassador—an evident feeling that his master was bestowing a high honor that stung the proud spirit of King Keiwan, and he returned an unqualified refusal to the proposition.
This decision was made in opposition to the advice of the Grand Vizir, who dreaded to insult so powerful a prince, but the king refused to reconsider his action, and the ambassador went away in anger.
King Kāra Khān received the message of refusal, first with incredulity, and afterwards with rage; having never seen the girl, he cared nothing for her personally, but his indignation knew no bounds when he learned that his expressed wish had been disregarded.
As the Vizir had feared, the return of the disappointed ambassador was promptly followed by a declaration of war, and soon the Tartar horde was marching directly upon Khārizm.