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CHAPTER 31
The Sacrifice
Things in the palace were in a strange condition: the king playing
with a child and dreaming wise dreams, waited upon by a little
princess with the heart of a queen, and a youth from the mines, who
went nowhere, not even into the king's chamber, without his mattock
on his shoulder and a horrible animal at his heels; in a room
nearby the colonel of his guard, also in bed, without a soldier to
obey him; in six other rooms, far apart, six miscreants, each
watched by a beast-jailer; ministers to them all, an old woman and
a page; and in the wine cellar, forty-three animals, creatures more
grotesque than ever brain of man invented. None dared approach its
gates, and seldom one issued from them.
All the dwellers in the city were united in enmity to the palace.
It swarmed with evil spirits, they said, whereas the evil spirits
were in the city, unsuspected. One consequence of their presence
was that, when the rumour came that a great army was on the march
against Gwyntystorm, instead of rushing to their defences, to make
new gates, free portcullises and drawbridges, and bar the river,
each band flew first to their treasures, burying them in their
cellars and gardens, and hiding them behind stones in their
chimneys; and, next to rebellion, signing an invitation to His
Majesty of Borsagrass to enter at their open gates, destroy their
king, and annex their country to his own.
The straits of isolation were soon found in the palace: its
invalids were requiring stronger food, and what was to be done?
For if the butchers sent meat to the palace, was it not likely
enough to be poisoned? Curdie said to Derba he would think of some
plan before morning.
But that same night, as soon as it was dark, Lina came to her
master, and let him understand she wanted to go out. He unlocked
a little private postern for her, left it so that she could push it
open when she returned, and told the crocodile to stretch himself
across it inside. Before midnight she came back with a young deer.
Early the next morning the legserpent crept out of the wine cellar,
through the broken door behind, shot into the river, and soon
appeared in the kitchen with a splendid sturgeon. Every night Lina
went out hunting, and every morning Legserpent went out fishing,
and both invalids and household had plenty to eat. As to news, the
page, in plain clothes, would now and then venture out into the
market place, and gather some.
One night he came back with the report that the army of the king of
Borsagrass had crossed the border. Two days after, he brought the
news that the enemy was now but twenty miles from Gwyntystorm.
The colonel of the guard rose, and began furbishing his armour -
but gave it over to the page, and staggered across to the barracks,
which were in the next street. The sentry took him for a ghost or
worse, ran into the guardroom, bolted the door, and stopped his
ears. The poor colonel, who was yet hardly able to stand, crawled
back despairing.
For Curdie, he had already, as soon as the first rumour reached
him, resolved, if no other instructions came, and the king
continued unable to give orders, to call Lina and the creatures,
and march to meet the enemy. If he died, he died for the right,
and there was a right end of it. He had no preparations to make,
except a good sleep.
He asked the king to let the housemaid take his place by His
Majesty that night, and went and lay down on the floor of the
corridor, no farther off than a whisper would reach from the door
of the chamber. There, -with an old mantle of the king's thrown
over him, he was soon fast asleep.
Somewhere about the middle of the night, he woke suddenly, started
to his feet, and rubbed his eyes. He could not tell what had waked
him. But could he be awake, or was he not dreaming? The curtain
of the king's door, a dull red ever before, was glowing a gorgeous,
a radiant purple; and the crown wrought upon it in silks and gems
was flashing as if it burned! What could it mean? Was the king's
chamber on fire? He darted to the door and lifted the curtain.
Glorious terrible sight!
A long and broad marble table, that stood at one end of the room,
had been drawn into the middle of it, and thereon burned a great
fire, of a sort that Curdie knew - a fire of glowing, flaming
roses, red and white. In the midst of the roses lay the king,
moaning, but motionless. Every rose that fell from the table to
the floor, someone, whom Curdie could not plainly see for the
brightness, lifted and laid burning upon the king's face, until at
length his face too was covered with the live roses, and he lay all
within the fire, moaning still, with now and then a shuddering sob.
And the shape that Curdie saw and could not see, wept over the king
as he lay in the fire, and often she hid her face in handfuls of
her shadowy hair, and from her hair the water of her weeping
dropped like sunset rain in the light of the roses. At last she
lifted a great armful of her hair, and shook it over the fire, and
the drops fell from it in showers, and they did not hiss in the
flames, but there arose instead as it were the sound of running
brooks.
And the glow of the red fire died away, and the glow of the white
fire grew grey, and the light was gone, and on the table all was
black - except the face of the king, which shone from under the
burnt roses like a diamond in the ashes of a furnace.
Then Curdie, no longer dazzled, saw and knew the old princess. The
room was lighted with the splendour of her face, of her blue eyes,
of her sapphire crown. Her golden hair went streaming out from her
through the air till it went off in mist and light. She was large
and strong as a Titaness. She stooped over the table-altar, put
her mighty arms under the living sacrifice, lifted the king, as if
he were but a little child, to her bosom, walked with him up the
floor, and laid him in his bed. Then darkness fell.
The miner boy turned silent away, and laid himself down again in
the corridor. An absolute joy filled his heart, his bosom, his
head, his whole body. All was safe; all was well. With the helve
of his mattock tight in his grasp, he sank into a dreamless sleep.
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