Belshazzar. Генри Райдер Хаггард
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we wait, friend, tell me, how is that little daughter of yours whom I visited two days ago in her fever?”
“Master,” answered the man in another voice, a trembling voice, “she hangs between life and death. When I left to come on guard at length she had fallen asleep and the wise women said that either it is the beginning of the sleep of death or she will wake free of the fever and recover. Tell me, Master, you who are wise and can read the stars, which she will do. For know, I love this child, my only one, and my heart is racked.”
With the staff he bore Belus made a drawing in the sand. Then he looked up at certain stars and added dots to the drawing, which done, he said,
“Events are strangely linked with one another in this world, my friend, nor can we understand who or what it is that ties them thus together. Who for instance would have dreamed that your daughter’s fate hangs upon whether I and this scribe of mine, whom perchance you guessed rightly to be a woman, though a tall one such as are loved by small men like myself, pass at once upon our business, or wait until it pleases some officer to wander this way upon his rounds. If we pass, the stars say that your daughter will live; if we wait, while we are waiting she will die – yes, before the moonlight creeps to that mark, she will die. But if my departing footstep stamps upon it, she will live.”
“Pass, Magician Belus, with the girl disguised as a scribe,” said the man, “for such I see now she is, though at first the moonlight deceived me. Pass.”
“Good night, friend,” said Belus, “the blessing of the gods be upon you, and upon that daughter of yours who will live to comfort your old age.”
Then with his foot he stamped out the pattern on the sand and we went on.
“Will the child live?” I asked idly, for this sight of the grief of another seemed to dull my own.
“Yes,” answered Belus. “My medicines have worked well and that sleep is a presage of her recovery. Surely she will live, but what will happen to her father when it is learned that he has suffered some veiled traveller to pass out, I do not know.”
“Perchance he will keep silence upon that matter.”
“Aye, but when the light comes our footprints on the sand will tell their own tale, that is, unless a wind rises. Still by that time we shall be far away. Run, Scribe, run. The horses and the escort, men who are sworn to me, await us in yonder grove.”
Eight days later we came to the camp of Amasis upon the borders of Egypt. An officer led us to the tent of Amasis whom we found in jovial mood, for he had dined and drunk well, as was his custom.
“Greeting, learned Belus,” said Amasis. “Now tell me on what business Pharaoh sends you?”
Belus drew out a roll, laid it to his forehead and handed it to Amasis, saying,
“It is written here, General.”
He undid the roll, glanced at it and cast it down.
“It is written in Greek,” he exclaimed, “and I, an Egyptian, will not read Greek. Repeat its contents. Nay, it is needless, for I have heard them already by another messenger who has outstripped you, one of my own captains whom Pharaoh did not send. The writing orders that I must make report daily, or as often as may be, of all that passes in this army, through you, Belus the Babylonian. Is it not so?”
“Yes,” answered Belus calmly, “that is the sum of it.”
“Which means,” went on Amasis, “that you are sent here to spy upon me and all that I do.”
“Yes, General,” replied Belus in the same quiet voice. “Pharaoh, as you know, is jealous and fears you.”
“Why, Belus?”
“Because the Egyptians love you, especially the soldiers, and do not love Pharaoh who they think, favours the Greeks too much, and in all but blood is himself a Greek.”
“That I know. Is there no other reason?”
“Yes, General. As you may have heard, like other Babylonians I have some skill in divination and in the casting of horoscopes. Pharaoh caused me to cast his, and yours also, General.”
“And what did they say, Belus?” asked Amasis leaning forward.
Belus dropped his voice and answered,
“They said that the star of Apries wanes, while that of Amasis grows bright. They said that ere long where shone the star of Apries, will shine the star of Amasis alone, though first for a time those two stars will ride in the heavens side by side. That is what they said though I told Apries another tale.”
“Do you mean the throne?” asked Amasis in a whisper.
“Aye, the throne and a certain general wearing Pharaoh’s crown.”
For a while there was silence, then Amasis asked,
“Does Pharaoh send you to poison me, as doubtless you can do, you strange and fateful Belus, who like a night-bird, have flitted from Babylon to Egypt for your own dark and secret purpose?”
“Nay, and if he did, I, their servant, am not one to fight against the stars. Fear nothing from me who am your friend, though there are others whom you will do well to watch. Now, General, here in this camp I am in your power. You can kill me if you will, but that would be foolish, for I have not told you all the horoscope.”
“Your meaning?”
“It is that if you kill me, as I think you had it in your mind to do but now, me or another, that star of yours will never shine alone, because my blood will call for yours. Am I safe with you and if I need it, will you protect me when you grow great?”
“You are safe and I will protect you now and always. I swear it by Amen and by Maat, Goddess of Truth. Yet, why do you turn from Pharaoh who has sheltered you ever since you escaped from Babylon? – for I have heard that you did escape on account of some crime.”
“Because Pharaoh turns from me and presently will seek my life; indeed I think that he seeks it already. For the rest, the crime of which you have heard was not mine, but that of another – upon whom I wait to be avenged in some far-off appointed hour,” he added and as he spoke the words, his face grew fierce and even terrible.
“Be plain, Belus, but tell me first, who is this with you who listens to our most secret thoughts? How comes it that I never noted him?”
“Perchance because I willed that you should not, General, or perchance because wine dims the eyes. But look on him, and answer your own question.”
As he spoke, very swiftly Belus bent forward and unclasped the long cloak which I wore, revealing me clad as a soldier with an armoured cap upon my head. Amasis stared at me.
“By the gods!” he said, “this is none other than Ramose, Pharaoh’s bastard and my pupil in arms whom I love well. Now what does this young cock here? Is he another of Pharaoh’s spies whom you have brought to be your witness?”
“A poor spy, I think, General. Nay, like me he flies from Pharaoh’s wrath. There has been trouble in the palace. A certain Syrian queen whom you will remember, for in truth she sent you here, has come to her end – a swift and bloody end – as has her minister.”
“I have heard as much, for rumour of the death of great ones flies more swiftly than a dove, but what has that to do with Ramose? Did he perchance stifle her with kisses, as I would have done at his age?”
“Nothing, nothing at all, General. But Ramose was her guardian and chamberlain, and Pharaoh demands his life in payment for hers, so do her Syrians, or will ere long. Therefore he seeks refuge under the shield of Amasis, his captain.”
“And shall have it, by the gods. Am I a man to give up one who has served under me, over the matter of a woman, even to Pharaoh’s self? Not so, and yet I must remember that this youngster is Pharaoh’s son and half a Greek and has heard words that would set a noose about my neck. Do you vouch for him, Belus?”
“Aye, Amasis. Listen. From boyhood this lad has been as one born to me and I, who now am – childless – love him.