William H. Babcock - Cian of the Chariots - Chapter IX: The Emperor and the Queen lyrics

CHAPTER IX. THE EMPEROR AND THE QUEEN. The chair of the sovereign, He that keeps it is skilful. – TALIESMIN. CIAN was glad to be in the open air again, on the way toward rest. Weakened and fevered, he carried thoughts with him which were better away. He had seen Arthur's eyes meeting those of Aurelia's; and already, though he had given no name to his own feeling for her, a breath of fear was astir. Thus brooding, a dimness came over him, and he swayed to and fro where he sat. But Tigernach sprang in beside him, and Aurelia rode up. "Oh, pardon me!" she cried. "You have over-tasked yourself in our behalf, and we neglect you." For indeed she had not felt so drawn to his side, returning, as when they rode in. The knowledge of it hurt her. Cian raised his head, and sat quite stiffly. "I have no need," he said. Llywarch, who had rejoined them, looked at him and at her. "Surely, Cian, the new cares of the [Page 99] throne" – he began. "There is enough in London to overwhelm all else." Aurelia felt ill at ease under his words; for in truth it was not the burden of greatness which had so filled her mind, as the vision of the Emperor, flashing among them suddenly in a**urance of power. "I am not yet queen," she answered gently. "Nor ever will be, I hope, if it is to make me behave unworthily." Cian did not reply, being wholly occupied in mere endurance. Aurelia watched him with solicitude. "You saw Eschwine well away?" she inquired of Llywarch. "Not very far, unhappily. I heard a word at the gate. He is yonder, waiting." Where he pointed, the Thames and the Lea out-spread together in an estuary-like mora**. There was vapor over it now. The light of a half-moon fell slantwise on reedy, glistening expanses, on gleaming, winding, branching inlets, on tufted black islands of forestry, all mapped out as on the face of another world, withdrawn into the dim life of menace and mystery. It chilled Aurelia, and she turned silently away. At her home they found her father with the Emperor. Already a general scheme of commissariat had been outlined, – great depots, widely and wisely distributed, with lesser between; interlinking caravan [Page 100] routes like the crossing lines of a spider's web, whereby material in ma**es could at once be supplied anywhere, – a system worthy of an earlier or a later era. Constantine was astir with delighted interest as the possibilities grew on him. He was deeply impressed by Arthur also, the soldier-king eager for adventure being hidden in the man of affairs, prompt, full of forethought, quick to learn, shrewd in applying, possessed of every capability. There was reason why Arthur should strengthen himself with all. Guledig, imperator, emperor, men called him; but this was, first of all, a battle-title, a kingship over armies and kings in armor; beyond that, more or less, according to opportunity and the strain of public need. Never before, in the case of a great city, had he ventured on interference and command. Chance had aided him, but he knew that even friends would recall his action uneasily. The chiefs of Andred, lately in opposition, could not resist his friendliness. He gave them straightforward words, though, evading nothing, not even religious differences, for he made no secret of his championship of the Cross. When the talk was of worldly and common matters, his attention was calmly given to the speaker, or pa**ed from one to another whom he addressed. When he spoke of man's faith and soul and after life, or of Britain's interminable struggle with the destroyer, his eyes often wandered [Page 101] away and brightened, coming suddenly back with the fire in them of one whose innermost pa**ion and certainty were astir. There was nothing marble-like about that face; rather a quivering susceptibility, noticeable in the nether lip when not resolutely controlled, as though emotions came too fast and strong for him. In his greatest feats recorded of Arthur Mabuter, it was averred that his whole frame trembled like a harpstring. More than one renowned enemy had felt it with elation, yet broken utterly before the fury of purpose which underlay that vibrating fineness of nerve. In spite of error, it raised him above meanness and grossness, giving him a dedicate fervency, as of one running a great race greatly. At his best, he might well be called the soul of Britain. After a time he drew away to Aurelia, who was about going within to escape the chill of the autumnal evening. His manner was deferential, with a touch of playfulness. "I come to you as a bird of warning," he said; "and I would rather warn out here." Following his words, a wolf-howl came lugubriously from some forest nook, with the usual discord-murmur of the hidden city for its echo. "With such music?" she replied sadly. His face grew very grave. "You see your task," he said. "To keep the wolf from the door of a di-[Page 102] vided people. It has been mine also. But we are drawing mightily together now." "All but London! Poor, rich, great, distracted London!" said she. "London will not fail such a queen," he answered; for the beauty and easy majesty of her face and form were on him like a spell. Oh, the incredible perversity that could turn away from such as she! He grew stern at thought of it, and added, "Those who will be blind may at least see their own ruin." She answered gently, "They are my people. Without my destruction, that shall not be." His face brightened and deepened. "I could not ask a better word from the best fighting man of my Round Table." "No place for me! I am sufficiently exalted by the charge my Emperor has given;" and she made him archly an obeisance. "Greater exaltation may" – but he checked himself with remembrance and misgiving. She did not seem to give his words especial meaning; but his tone awoke a slight perversity, brushing the sense of distance away. "At least," she said, "I may be better employed than in tilting after rainbow treasures and phantom goblets." "It is not well to speak lightly of things beyond us," he answered with serious mildness. "Our life, [Page 103] which begins in mystery and ends in mystery, is wrapped in mystery between. But this is my warning. I pray you be very careful in your coming and going after I am gone. Forget not that you rule only a point of doubtful light, jutting into a black sea. Remember that London ever wrangles with the hand that serves and saves it. Above all, bear continually in mind that the Sword of Fire is never far away. Yet I hope he may seek to do no harm. He will get word from me by Llywarch, who goes with Dynan and Caowl into the great marsh to-morrow, demanding his pledge of peace, toward you above all, under penalty which he will hardly dare. He will keep it, I believe, since it has ever been Eschwine's pride to make good his word. But be more than careful." Aurelia looked at him, thankful and open-eyed. Then there came a saddening thought. "How shall we drive out the hard Saxons with plans which a woman's mishap may overthrow? You must not bring your men from where they are most needed, for me." "They will not stir," he answered. "The threat suffices. Trust me." "Trust me also," she replied, as she pa**ed within. "I shall be on my guard." But that did not long trouble her. She found pleasanter matter of meditation in the Emperor's thoughtfulness.