The girl rose and, going to a curtained door at one side of the room, pulled aside the curtain and guided the Princess up a narrow stairway, in the thick stone wall, to a chamber above and of the same size and as richly furnished as that below. Here the Princess seated herself on a divan and the girl again knelt at her feet on the floor.
“Tell me what you mean,” said Athura, kindly.
“I know the man who calls himself Bardya. He owns this castle,” said the girl, speaking rapidly. “I also have seen your brothers, both the great Cambyses, the King, and the strong, happy Prince Bardya. That was years ago when I lived in Hamadan and my father was a soldier of the palace-guard under the noble Otanes. I also know the regent, Patatheites, whom Cambyses, the Great King, left to rule in Medea. O gracious lady, it breaks my heart to tell you! But I know that Bardya, your brother, is dead and this one who calls himself Bardya is none other than Gaumata, priest of the Magi, whose ears Cyrus, the Great King, cut off! I have seen Gaumata and Patatheites together. I know that Gaumata pretends to be Bardya. The chamberlain is one of his tribe. This great tower is a fire-worshiper’s shrine and on its top is an altar on which fire is kept burning. I know not why I tell you this, except that when I look upon your face I love and worship you. O that I might save you! I fear this prison is intended to be your tomb!”
Athura sat very still during this revelation. Her head seemed to reel. The earth and all her golden castles seemed whirling and falling. Of course Bardya would have come to meet her! She knew the girl was telling the truth. Fool, to be so easily beguiled! Bardya really dead! The old sorrow resurged in her soul. Death or worse her fate! She sat still and silent a long time in wide-eyed despair while the maid at her feet with bowed head wept bitterly. Presently she sighed deeply and asked, “Why do you weep, little sister?”
“Because of your cruel fate, gracious lady,” replied the maid. “You know not the magic power of these priests! Even now they may know that I have told this to you and even now they may be preparing the torture chamber for me. They are terrible men! They deal with the demons of the hills and mountains. They sacrifice to them, even offering up human lives sometimes. They are able to read one’s thoughts. They bring up the dead and make them talk. Only Ahura-Mazda can protect you, and I know not if He will!”
“Be comforted, child,” said Athura, calmly. “Let us escape in some manner. Once before I fled from a prison when Cambyses would have slain me. Is there no way of escape?”
“I know of none. These walls have secret doors. I have seen Gaumata appear in these rooms even without opening a door. But he is a magician. I do not know the secret doors. If we could escape from this castle, the great wall and its watch is there.”
“You said that your father is captain of the guard. Might he not assist us?”
“I know not. He fears the Magi. His father was a tenant of this Gaumata who, for his faithfulness, has promised him great fortune and a high command. But he is a brave man and a good father.”
“Such a man must have a good heart. We shall talk with him presently.”