My vision passed and I awoke, wondering where that city might be and if within it I should find any habitation.
It was a foolish dream, yet I set it down because I think it told me something of the mystery of birth and death. Or rather it set out these mysteries, revealing nothing, for who knows what lies beyond those black walls that are our Alpha and Omega and between which we spell out the alphabet of Life. Also it was not altogether foolish, for even then I knew that the shapes of terror which seemed to wait upon my path were portents of advancing woe—and trembled….
It must have been the dead of night when I awoke thus out of my swoon, for now there was no sound in the camp, save the tramping of the sentries and the howling of distant dogs or jackals smitten of the moon. In the pavilion the scented lamps burned low or had been shaded, so that the place was filled with a soft gloom, in which shadows seemed to move, caused no doubt by the swinging of the lamps in the draught of the night air. Yet one of these shadows, the most palpable of them all, did not move; indeed it seemed to stand over me like a ghost that waits the passing of one whom it has loved. I grew afraid and stirred, thinking to speak, whereon the shadow turned its head so that the light of the lamp fell upon the beautiful face of a woman.
"Who are you?" I asked in a whisper, for I seemed to fear to speak aloud.
A sweet voice answered,
"O Ramose, Pharaoh's son and envoy, I am your hostess Atyra, once a queen."
"And what do you here, Queen Atyra?"
"I watch you, my guest, in your swoon."
"A poor task, Lady, more fitting to a leech or slave."
"I think not, Ramose, son of the king, as I have been told that you are by your escort and others. There is much to be learned from those who sleep by one who has the gift of reading souls."
"Is it your gift, Lady?"
"I have been taught it by wise men in Syria, /magi/ the Persians call them, and as I think not quite in vain. At least I have read your soul."
"Then, Lady, you have read that which is worth nothing, for what is written upon so short a scroll?"
"Much, Count Ramose, for our life is like the chapters of a book, and already at our birth Fate has stamped the titles of those chapters upon its clay, leaving it to Time to write the rest. Your story, I think, will be long, if sad in part. Yet it was not to talk of such things that I have come here alone at night."
"Why, then, did you come, Lady?"
"First to see how you fared, for your fall was heavy, and secondly, if you were well enough, to hear your message."
"It is short, Lady. Pharaoh bids me say that he will answer your requests to–morrow, since to–day it is too late."
"Yet it was not too late for him to send you, Count Ramose, charged with words that mean nothing. I will tell you why he sent you; it was to spy upon me and make report to him."
Thus she said, resting her chin upon her hand and looking at me with her great dark eyes which shone in the lamplight like to those of a night–bird, but I remained silent.
"You do not answer, O Ramose, because you cannot. Well, your office is easy, for I will tell you all there is to learn. The old king, Abibal, whose wife I was in name, is dead, and dying left a charge upon me—to save his country from the Babylonians, calling down the curse of all the gods upon my head in life and on my soul in death, should I fail by my own fault to fulfil his dying prayer. Therefore I have come to Egypt, although the oracles warned me against this journey, for the case of these Syrians is very hard and desperate, and in Egypt lies their only hope who alone cannot stand against the might of Babylon. Tell me, Son of the king, will Apries help us?"
"I do not know, Lady," I answered, "but I do know that least of all things does he, or Egypt, desire a war against Babylon. You must plead your own cause with him; I cannot answer your question."
"How can I plead my cause, Count Ramose? I bring great gifts of gold and silks and spices, but what are these to him who holds the wealth of Egypt? I can promise allegiance and service, but my people are far away and Egypt seeks no war in which they can be used."
Again I answered that I did not know, then added,
"Yet your nation could have found no better envoy, for Pharaoh loves a beautiful woman."
"Do you think me beautiful?" she asked softly. "Well, to tell truth, so have others, though as yet such favour as I have, has brought me little joy―" and she sighed, adding slowly, "Of what use is beauty to her who has found none to love?"
"I know little of such things, Lady. Yet, perhaps for you the search is not finished."
She looked at me a while before she answered,
"My heart tells me that you are right, O Ramose. The search is not finished."
Then she rose and taking a cup of wine gave me to drink of it, afterwards drinking a little herself as though to pledge me.
This done, she poured the rest of the wine upon the ground, like to one who makes an offering before some god, bent down so close that her scented breath beat upon my brow, whispered to me to sleep well, and glided away.
I think there must have been some medicine in that wine, for presently all the pain left my head and neck and I fell fast asleep, yet not so fast but that through the long hours I seemed to dream of the loveliness of this Syrian queen, until at length I was awakened by the sunlight shining in my eyes.
A servant who must have been watching me, noted this and went away as though to call some one. Then an old man came, one with a white beard who wore a strange–shaped cap.
"Greeting, Sir," he said in bad Greek. "As you may guess, I am the court physician. Most unhappily I was absent last night, seeking for certain plants that are said to grow in Egypt, which must be gathered by the light of the moon, since otherwise they lose their virtue; indeed, I returned but an hour ago."
"Is it so, Physician?" I answered. "Well, I trust that you found your herbs."
"Yes, young sir, I found them in plenty and gathered them with the appropriate spells. Yet I would I had never learned their name, for I hear that my mistress is very wrath with me because I was not present when you chanced to roll into the tent like a stone thrown from a catapult, and may the gods help him with whom she is wrath! Still I see that you live who, I was told, had a broken neck. Now let me see what harm you have taken, if any."
Then he called to the eunuch to come within the screens that had been set round me, and strip me naked. When this was done, he examined me with care, setting his ear against my breast and back, and feeling me all over with his hands.
"By Bel, or whatever god you worship," he said, "you have a fine shape, young lord, one well fitted for war—or love. Nor can I find that there is aught amiss with you, save a bruise upon your shoulder and a lump at the back of your head. No bone is broken, that I will swear. Stand up now and let me treat you with my ointments."
I stood up, to find myself little the worse save for a dizziness which soon passed away, and was rubbed with his aromatics, and afterwards washed and clothed. Then I was led out of the pavilion to where my men were camped, who rejoiced to see me living and sound, for a rumour had reached them that I was dead. With them I ate and a while later was summoned to the presence of the Queen Atyra.
So once more I entered the pavilion, to find this royal lady seated in a chair made of sycamore wood inlaid with ivory. I bowed to her and she bowed back to me, giving no sign that she had ever seen me before. Indeed she looked at me with her large eyes as though I were a stranger to her, and I looked at her clad in her rich robes over which flowed her black abundant hair, and marvelled at her beauty, for it was great and moved me.