“No,” answered the prince, “but can I not take my bride with me? Can I not take my peerless pearl to the royal court which is my rightful inheritance? Can I not bear to her arms the beauteous daughter that I have given her? Surely my wife should receive my mother’s blessing! Let me take thee there before the faithful mother-heart is cold in death.”
“But my father,” faltered Nahīd, “will he consent? Will he allow thee to bear me away to a strange land to claim the lost inheritance?”
“The king should remember that not only filial love demands my return, but I can never make my bride the queen that she should be—I can never place a royal crown upon her lovely brow unless I return to the land of my fathers,” answered the prince; and then he told her, with loving thought, of the land where the palms grew higher by striving toward the sun, of the marble palaces of Istakhar, standing beside the river that came down from the heights rippling with low harmonies, as the waves dashed on the sanded shores; told her, too, of the mountains beyond the marble city, where the wild swans came to their nesting places,—white voyagers on the seas of blue, calling, in soft notes, down the line, while love was leading them homeward, to the sheltered nooks beside the pools of the mountain stream.
Long they stayed in loving converse, and when they turned to the palace court, the prince had won from his bride a promise that she would see the king, and win, if possible, his consent to the long bridal trip, that she now looked forward to with pleasure.
ROYAL CAVALCADE.
The king listened patiently to the plea of Nahīd, for though he knew that the long journey would take her from him, perhaps forever, he also knew that the throne of Persia might be waiting for their coming, and at last he consented that the prince should bear his bride away to wear a crown in the halls of the proud Sassanian kings.
But she should not go dowerless to the home of her husband. Keiwan therefore gave orders for the fitting out of a magnificent cavalcade, comprising a thousand camels of the purest Syrian blood, a thousand splendid Arabian steeds and a thousand Indian slaves, besides a military escort composed of the finest troops in the service of the king.
The morning was radiant with golden sunlight when the splendid procession left the city of Khārizm; the streets were gorgeous with flags, and branches of flowering trees stood by every doorway, while the palace itself was covered with silken banners, lightly draped with wreaths of flowers. The excited horses, with their golden caparisons, tossed their heads in the air, and pranced with joy as the strains of music rang out from the balconies around them, and the camels gently shook their light-toned bells in every passing breeze. Hundreds of banners floated above the troops and waved like the wings of birds in the sunlight; the gleaming swords of the warriors were pointed up to heaven, and a thousand voices rang with joyous acclamation. Keiwan and his queen rode in the imperial chariot immediately behind the camels bearing the luxurious cushions of the prince and his bride, for they traveled a day’s journey with them before bidding their children farewell, and then returned sorrowfully to their lonely palace home.
The gorgeous cavalcade moved slowly onward, over hill and plain, and through a forest where all the branches laughed with songs of birds, and trusses of scarlet pomegranate blossoms gleamed here and there through the rich foliage. When night came down upon the landscape an encampment was made beside a river, and pavilions of scarlet and gold were furnished with costly cushions that invited repose.