"Whither should we go?"…and Sah-luma, pausing in his walk, fixed his large, soft eyes full on his companion as he put the question.
Theos was mute. Covered with confusion, he asked himself the same thing. "Whither should we go?" He had no knowledge of the country that lay outside Al-Kyris, . . he had no distinct remembrance of any other place than this in which he was. All his past existence was as blotted and blurred as a child's spoiled and discarded copybook, . . true, he retained two names in his thoughts,—namely "ARDATH" and "THE PASS OF DARIEL" but he was hopelessly ignorant as to what these meant or how he had become connected with them! He was roused from his distressful cogitation by Sah-luma's voice speaking again half gayly, half sadly:
"Nay, nay, my friend! … we cannot leave the City, we two alone and unguided, for beyond the gates is the desert wide and bare, with scarce a spring of cool water in many weary miles,—and beyond the desert is a forest, gloomy and tiger haunted, wherein the footsteps of man have seldom penetrated. To travel thus far we should need much preparation, . . many servants, many beasts of burden, and many months' provision.. moreover, 'tis a foolish, fancy crossed my mind at best,—for what should I, the Laureate of Al-Kyris, do in other lands? Besides, my departure would indeed be the desolation of the city,—well may Al-Kyris fall when Sah-luma no longer abides within it! Seawards the way lies open,—maybe, in days to come, we twain may take ship and sail hence for a brief sojourn to those distant western shores, whence thou, though thou sayest naught of them, must assuredly have come; I have often dreamed idly of a gray coast washed with dull rain and swathed in sweeping mists, where ever and anon the sun shines through,—a country cheerless, where a poet's fame like mine might ring the darkness of the skies with light, and stir the sleepy silence into song!"
Still Theos said nothing,—there were hot tears in his throat that choked his utterance. He gazed up at the glowing sky above him,—it was a burning vault of cloudless blue in which the sun glared forth witheringly like a scorching mass of flame, . . Oh for the freshness of a "gray coast washed with dull rain and swathed in sweeping mists" … such as Sah-luma spoke of! … and what a strange sickening yearning suddenly filled his soul for the unforgotten sonorous dash of the sea! He drew a quick breath and pressed his friend's arm with unconscious fervor, . . why, why could he not take this dear companion away out of possible peril? … away to those far lands dimly remembered, yet now so completely lost sight of, that they seemed to him but as a delusive mirage faintly discerned above the rising waters of Lethe! Sighing deeply, he controlled his emotion and forced himself to speak calmly though his voice trembled..
"Not now then, but hereafter, thou'lt be my fellow-traveller, Sah-luma? … 'twill be a joyous time when we, set free of present hindrance, may journey through a myriad glorious scenes together, sharing such new and mutual gladness that perchance we scarce shall miss the splendor of Al-Kyris left behind! Meanwhile I would that thou couldst promise me one thing,".. here he paused, but, seeing Sah-luma's inquiring look, went on in a low, eager tone! "Go not to the Temple to-night!—absent thyself from this Sacrifice, which, though it be the law of the realm, is nevertheless mere murderous barbarity,—and—inasmuch as the King is wrathful—I pray thee avoid his presence!"
Sah-luma broke into a laugh.. "Now by my faith, good comrade, as well ask me for my head as demand such impossibilities! Absent myself from the temple to-night of all nights in the world, when owing to these late phenomenal occurrences in the city, every one who is of repute and personal distinction will be present to assist at the Service and offer petitions to the fabulous gods that haply their supposititious indignation may be averted? My friend, if only for the sake of custom I must be there, . . moreover, I should be liable to banishment from the realm for so specially marked a breach of religious discipline! And as for the King, he is my puppet; were he savage as a starving bear my voice could tame him,—and concerning his late churlishness 'twas no doubt mere heat of humor, and thou shalt see him sue to me for pardon as only monarchs can sue to the bards who keep them in their thrones! Knowest thou not that were I to string three stanzas of a fiery republican ditty, and set it floating on the lips of the people, that song would sing down Zephoranim from his royal estate more surely than the fury of an armed conqueror! Believe it!—WE, the poets, rule the nation, . . A rhyme has oft had power to kill a king!"
Theos smiled at the proud boast, but made no reply, as by this time they had reached the Laureate's palace, and were ascending the steps that led into the entrance-hall. A young page advanced to meet them, and, dropping on one knee before his master, held out a small scroll tied across and across with what appeared to be a thick strand of amber-colored floss silk.
"For the most illustrious Chief of Poets, Sah-luma" … said the little lad, keeping his head bent humbly as he spoke … "It was brought lately by one masked, who rode in haste and fear, and, ere he could be questioned, swift departed."
Sah-luma took the missive carelessly, scarcely glancing at it, and crossed the hall toward his own apartment, Theos following him. On his way, however, he paused and turned round:
"Has Niphrata yet come home?" he demanded of the page who still lingered.