4 African Mysteries: Zoraida, The Great White Queen, The Eye of Istar & The Veiled Man (Illustrated Edition). William Le Queux
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“It is as I expected. He hath attempted to strike me to earth, and had it not been for this stranger, I should have been murdered. Three days ago I gave thee certain instructions — carry them out.”
“We will, O Lady of Great Beauty,” they both replied.
“Then remove him.”
The two black giants opened the small door by which I had entered, and almost before the old Arab could mumble a protest, they had hurried him out and down into the dark subterranean passage that led away into the unknown maze below.
“That course is my only chance of escape,” she said, turning to me in explanation, when the door had closed. “Had I fallen, thou too must have perished, for thy food in the secret chamber could not have lasted long,” she panted, holding her hand to her breast as if in pain.
“I have to thank thee for rescuing me from death,” I said. “I had no idea who was my deliverer until I overheard thy conversation.”
“But thou didst not obey the instructions I left thee in my letter,” she said in a tone of reproach. “Searching for a means of exit, it seemeth, brought thee unto the Chamber of Assembly; hence my disgrace and thine own peril.”
“But thine husband — whither have they taken him?”
“To the chamber in which thou hast remained hidden these few days. Before he is placed there, he will be rendered unconscious, so that he may not know of the secret entrance. There will he remain while I reach a place of safety.”
“Merely detained?” I asked dubiously.
“Yes. Though in his wrath he tried to kill me, I bear him no malice, for when I get back to mine own people, I shall be safe. If he discovers how to get out of his prison, then he will live. If not” — and she shrugged her shoulders.
“Though thou art his wife, thou dost not appear to regret thy departure.”
“Why should I, when I have been detained here over a year against my will? If thou only knewest the dreary life a woman leadeth in the hands of a brute she hates and despises — ah!” and she shuddered.
“Then thou wilt now regain freedom?” I said, surprised.
“Yes. For many moons have I waited in patience for this moment, and at last I have accomplished what I sought. Already the preparations are being made. My two trusty slaves will return when their work hath been accomplished, and in an hour camels will be packed in readiness for our journey.”
“Our journey? Dost thou intend that I should accompany thee?” I asked.
“Certainly. To disguise thyself as a female slave, veiled and enshrouded by a haick, is thine only chance of escape. La bodd annak taroóh maaki!” (“You must go with me”) and she sank back again upon her divan, as if the exertion had utterly exhausted her.
“Thou art stronger than when I found thee lying as one dead in the ruins of the great Palace of the White Sultan,” she exclaimed, as she lay stretched among her cushions, with her bright, beautiful eyes looking up to mine. “Dost thou feel well enough to withstand the fatigue of travel?”
“Yes, quite,” I answered. “But ought we not to prepare for flight immediately?”
“There is no need for haste,” she answered. “This is mine own private apartment where none dare enter, so take thine ease, for we must journey far before el maghrib.”
All trace of her agitation had now disappeared, and as we chatted calmly, I asked, “Why didst thou take compassion upon me — a stranger?”
“I had accompanied two of the wives of the man who hath held me in hateful bondage on a portion of their journey towards Assiou, and in returning we halted to rest under the shadow of the Hall of the Great Death. There I discovered thee, and, in order to give thee succour, was compelled to resort to the expedient of placing thee within the secret chamber. Some time previously I had heard that thou wert journeying south.”
“Who told thee? What didst thou know of me?”
“I knew that thou, a Roumi, hadst undertaken to reach Agadez in order to perform a secret mission, and that thou hadst proved loyal and true to the woman who loved thee. For her sake as well as for thine I snatched thee from certain death, and if Allah giveth us His mercy and blessing, we both shall now regain our freedom.”
“Art thou aware of the name of the woman to whom I am betrothed?” I inquired, in amazement.
“She is — or was — called Zoraida, and was known to our people as the Daughter of the Sun.”
“Thy people? Then thou art of the tribe of the Ennitra?” I exclaimed.
“True,” she answered, with a smile. “I am the daughter of those who have so long and eagerly sought thy destruction.”
“But what of Zoraida? Tell me; is she still alive?” I asked anxiously.
“Alas! I am uncertain. Here in this my prison only strange and vague rumours have reached me. Once I heard that she had been murdered in Algiers, but soon afterwards that report brought by the caravans was denied, and since then much curious gossip regarding her hath been circulated. The last I heard was, that, disguised as a camel-driver, she had followed thee to Agadez.”
“To Agadez?” I cried. “How long ago did that astounding news reach thee?”
“Early last moon. One of my slaves heard it while travelling with some of the women to Assiou. I am inclined to regard it, however, like so many other rumours, as mere idle talk of the bazaars, for only a few days before that, I heard of her holding sway at the palace of our lord Hadj Absalam.”
“Canst thou tell me nothing authentic?” I asked, disappointedly.
“Alas! nothing,” she answered, with a sigh. “Our Lalla Zoraida is mighty and of wondrous beauty, but the mystery that surroundeth her hath never been penetrated.”
Chapter Thirty Four
Under the Green Banner
Through a vast, barren wilderness, peopled only by echoes, we journeyed over drifted sand-heaps, upon which every breath of the hot poison-wind left its trace in solid waves. It was a haggard land of drear silence, of solitude, and of fantastic desolation. In the Desert a vivid sense of danger is never absent; indeed, even more so than upon the sea, for the mere lameness of a camel or the bursting of a water-skin is a disaster that must inevitably prove fatal to the traveller.
Our caravan consisted of ten persons only, six trusted and well-armed male slaves, two females, my pretty companion, and myself. Our departure from the great ancient stronghold in which the handsome girl had been held captive had not been accomplished without much exciting incident; but luckily my disguise as a female slave, in ugly white trousers and a haick that hid my features, proved complete, and, the imperious pearl of the Sheikh’s harem having announced her intention of journeying to Assiou to join his two other wives, we were at last allowed to depart without any opposition on the part of her husband’s armed retainers. The whole thing had been most carefully arranged, and the details of the escape were cleverly carried out without a hitch.
On setting out, Lalla Halima — for such she told me was her name — and myself, as her attendant, travelled together in one jakfi placed upon a swift camel, gaily caparisoned with crimson velvet; but as soon as we had got fairly away, I slipped off my white shroud, and, resuming a fez and burnouse, mounted one of the animals whereon our food was loaded. In camping during those blinding days under a dead, milk-white sky, I spent many pleasant, idle hours with Halima, and when travelling — which we usually did at night — we generally rode side by side. Notwithstanding the terrific heat, life in the Desert seemed to suit her far better than the seclusion of her sweet-perfumed