At the Queen's Mercy

by Mabel Fuller Blodgett

The circle, bristling with swords and spears, narrowed. Some one had thrown his dagger at me from afar, and the hilt had cut open my forehead just above the eye. It was an irksome wound because I needed then, if ever, clear sight, and the blood that trickled down did the more sadly vex me in that I found no instant when I could pause and brush away the teasing drops.

As I have said, the end was near. Gaston, fighting still beside me, cried out that it was so, and bade me “farewell and God speed.” I saw the sword of a burly soldier within an inch of my breast. There was no time for thrust or parry. I gave but one brief thought to the sweet earth, and not, it shames me, to near heaven. Then on the second I saw the sword struck upward. There was the blue flash of a weapon wielded strong and well, and there by my side, with one foot on the body of a fallen foe, stood Lah, a lioness at bay!

There followed a moment’s pause. Then Zobo, with his tunic torn and bloody from the struggle, leaped into the ring and took his place by the woman he loved and served.

“Back!” cried the Queen, “back! The priests outnumber us and the people thirst for blood. On to the Palace; the guards will fight their way to me and follow.”

I saw the wisdom of her words, and it was plain to me that we must do her bidding, and urgently, for our lives’ sake. I thought with longing of the door just at my back. It is a comfortable thing, a strong-barred door, when one has reached the side of safety and left the howling mob without.

So with all caution, step by step, we slowly gave way. There were still shrewd blows struck, for the Queen’s presence had but made the fight with the priests yet hotter, though now the warriors hung back, and would not be spurred forward to battle by the curses freely poured forth on them by Agno. A yard of ground thus counted by inches is longer than many a mile. But the mighty Zobo fought as never man fought before. The Queen, unwearied, guarded now my left, Lestrade, my right.

All honor to such goodly company—they saved the day. Astolba, half led, half carried by me, reached first the sheltering door. When all had entered, it was made fast, and without a word Lah led onward.

Back through the honeycombed passages, till the door of the harem swung open at the royal order, a shattered remnant of the bodyguard greeting us, and we were in the citadel at last.

Then I saw the true spirit that reigned in the soul of her who ruled that place: how, at her command, the gates were made fast, the slaves armed, the secret entrance blocked,—one sent to this post, one to that. This woman with a man’s brain thought of all these things and more; and I, beholding, marvelled. And though I fain would have had it otherwise, the marvel grew.