The flame-gatherers

by Margaret Horton Potter

Nor did the late spring bring joy and peace to Mandu. With the advent of gay birds from Ceylon, came also messengers from Dhár, in the north, bringing word that Omar the Asra, with a Mohammedan army, had come out of Delhi and was sweeping victoriously southward on his way to Mandu. To this warning and covert appeal for aid, Rai-Khizar-Pál could not but reply by gathering together his fighting men, and preparing to march. Mandu was in a state of excitement; but there was no rejoicing that their well-loved King must prepare to set out on a new campaign. The ministers that were to be left to rule were unpopular; for this time Ragunáth was not to accompany the army, but left co-regent with Manava over the people. For many days these matters kept all the plateau in a state of ferment; and there was perhaps only one person among them all that viewed the proceedings with apathy. He, indeed, was one to whom events might have been considered to be most important. Fidá might not unreasonably have entertained some idea of being taken upon the expedition in his position as King’s cup-bearer. But this hope, or fear, was quickly killed; for Rai-Khizar-Pál valued his slave too highly to run the risk of losing him by allowing him to come into actual contact with his own people. Nor could Oriental flesh and blood have been expected to withstand such temptation to escape.

It was on the twelfth of March that the Rajah, with his army, was to set out upon his second campaign against the Mohammedans. On the afternoon of the eleventh, Fidá was with young Bhavani when the Rajah summoned him. It had been one of the slave’s most miserable days. During his morning service he had taken care to keep himself as much as possible behind his master; and now he dreaded the interview extremely. There was, however, nothing for it but to obey the call; and, resigning Bhavani to his attendants, he hurried away to the King’s private room, where he found Manava and Kasya standing one on either side of the royal divan. At the door Fidá performed his usual deep salaam, and was motioned to come forward.

“Enter, Asra. I sent for thee. By the flocks of heaven, thou’rt sick to-day! Hast no care for thyself, good slave?”

Fidá smiled, slightly and bitterly. “I have no need for care. I am in health, O King,” said he.

“Tell me not that any man with visage so deathly is in health. Thine appearance troubles me, for I repose great trust in thee, and I dare not depart in fear of thy death. Speak, Manava,—what thinkest thou of him?”

“He hath the appearance of a man very ill,” answered the minister, thoughtfully regarding the slave.

“Fidá, for the space of a week keep to thy room, and let Churi and the priests attend thee and bring thee back to strength again. Thou must accept so much of aid, for thy look troubles me sorely.”

The Asra threw himself on the floor at the King’s feet, and once more protested that his looks belied him, that he was perfectly able to perform his usual tasks. And the Rajah, whose projects were upset by the prospect of this slave’s illness, allowed himself to be persuaded against his own judgment, and proceeded to the object of the audience.

“Fidá el-Asra, thou hast been in Mandu, in my service, scarce half a year as yet; but because thou art of high birth and noble training, I repose confidence in thee. I cannot take thee with me upon my campaign, because I should fear to lose thee in the north. But, in leaving thee behind, I am about to place thee in a position of great trust. Manava, whom thou seest standing upon my right hand, is, in my absence, to be part ruler of Mandu. To Kasya here, my faithful eunuch, I intrust the guardianship of my women. To thee I give the last of my treasures, the hope of Mandu: my son, Bhavani, the flower of my heart; to be taught and guarded till my return. Thou shalt have full direction over him, save only in those times when the Lady Malati, his mother, desires his presence. Already Bhavani loves thee, Asra; and thy training makes thee fitted to be his companion and his master in my absence. For this trust that I repose in thee, give me thy fealty.”

Deeply touched by a mark of favor so little deserved, Fidá fell upon his knees and pressed the Rajah’s foot with his brow. In that moment of abasement he was very near to confession; and, had it not been for the presence of the other two, Fidá might, at that moment, have opened up his heart and told his lord all the story of his treachery and crime. A moment’s swift reflection, however, brought with it the remembrance of Ahalya; and in dread for her the impulse passed away, and he found himself protesting incoherently his gratitude, his fidelity, and his sorrow at the departure of the Rajah. Once more, before he was dismissed, Rai-Khizar-Pál, noting anew his gaunt and pallid face, expressed some concern for his health; and then, giving his hand to his slave’s lips, sent him away. Fidá, his nature suddenly revolting against himself, sought his room, flung himself face down upon his bed, and there, in guilty misery, poured out some sort of inchoate prayer of remorse.