# Khaled/Chapter 5

CHAPTER V
When Khaled was within half a day's march of Riad, the Sultan came out to meet him with a great train of attendants and courtiers, with cooks bringing food and sweetmeats, and a number of musicians. And they all encamped together for a short time in the shade of the trees, for there were gardens in the place. The Sultan embraced Khaled and put upon him a very magnificent garment, after which they sat down together in a large tent which the Sultan had brought with him. When they had eaten and refreshed themselves they began to talk, and Khaled told his father-in-law all that he had done, and gave him an account of the spoils which he had brought back, commanding the most valuable objects to be brought into the tent. After this the Sultan desired to see the women captives.
'There is one especially whom it may please you to take for yourself,' said Khaled, and he ordered Almasta to be brought in.
When the male slaves had left the tent, Almasta drew aside her veil. The Sultan looked at her ​and smiled, stroking his beard, for he was much pleased.
'Her face is like a pearl and her hair is a setting of red gold,' he said. 'Truly she is like the sunrise on a fair morning when there are red clouds in the east.'
Almasta looked attentively at him, and afterwards she glanced at Khaled, who could not avoid looking at her on account of her beauty. Her face was grave and indifferent. Then Khaled told the Sultan how she had hated the Sultan of Shammar and had tried to kill him on the journey.
'This is a dangerous woman, my son,' said the old man. But he laughed as he said it, for although he was old, he was no coward. 'She is dangerous, indeed. Will you love me, pearl of my soul's treasures?' he inquired of her, still smiling.
'You are my lord and my master,' she answered, looking down.
When Khaled heard this he wondered whether his father-in-law would get any affection from her. Zehowah had answered in the same words.
'By Allah, I will give you such gifts as will make you love me,' said the Sultan. 'What shall I give you?'
'His head,' answered Almasta, raising her eyes quickly.
'The head of the Sultan of Shammar?'
​Almasta nodded, and Khaled could see that her lips trembled.
'A dead man has no companions,' said the Sultan, looking at Khaled to see what he would do. But Khaled cared little, and said nothing.
So the Sultan called a slave and ordered the captive's head to be struck off immediately. Then Almasta threw herself upon the carpet on the floor of the tent and embraced his feet.
'See how easily the love of a woman is got,' Khaled thought, 'even by an old man whose beard is grey and his limbs heavy.'
When Almasta rose again, she looked at Khaled triumphantly, as though to remind him of the night on the journey when he had hindered her from killing the captive in his cage. But though he understood her, he held his peace, for he had cared nothing whether the prisoner lived or died after he had delivered him over to his father-in-law, and he was considering whether he might not please Zehowah in some similar manner. This was not easy, however, for he was not aware that Zehowah had any private enemy, whose head he might offer her.
After the Sultan had seen the other women and the best of the spoils, Khaled begged that he might be allowed to ride on into Riad alone, for he saw that the Sultan intended to spend the night in feasting where he had encamped. The Sultan was so much pleased with ​Almasta and so greatly diverted in examining the rich stuffs and the gold and silver vessels and jewels, that he let Khaled go, almost without trying to detain him, though he made him many speeches praising his conduct of the war, and would have loaded him with gifts. But Khaled would take nothing with him, saying that he would only receive his just share with the rest; and the fame of his generosity immediately went abroad among the soldiers and the Bedouins throughout all the camp.
'For,' said Khaled, 'there is not a fleeter mare than mine among all those we have taken; my sword proves to be a good one, for I have tried it well; as for women, I am satisfied with one wife; and besides a wife, a sword and a horse, there are no treasures in the world which I covet.'
So Khaled rode away alone into Riad, for he desired no company, being busy with his own thoughts. He reached the gates at nightfall and went immediately to the palace and entered Zehowah's apartments. He found her sitting among her women in her accustomed place, listening to the tales of an old woman who sat in the midst of the circle. As soon as Zehowah saw her husband she sprang up gladly to meet him, as a friend would have done.
'Though it is summer-time, I have pursued the enemy,' said Khaled. 'And though the sun was hot, I have got the victory and brought home the spoil'
​He said this remembering how she had tried to hinder him from going. Then he gave her his sword and he sat down with her, while the women brought food and drink, for he was weary, and hungry and thirsty. The women also brought their musical instruments and began to sing songs in praise of Khaled's deeds; but after a time he sent them all away and remained alone with Zehowah.
'O Zehowah,' he said, 'you are my law and my rule. You are my speech and my occupation. You are my Kebla to which I turn in prayer. For the love of you I have got the victory over many foes. And yet I see that your cheek is cold and the light of your eyes is undisturbed. Have you no other enemies for me to destroy, or have you no secret foe whose head would be a pleasant gift?'
Zehowah laughed, as she fanned him with a palm leaf.
'Do you still thirst for war, Khaledl' she asked. 'Truly you have swallowed up all our enemies as the dry sand swallows up water. Where shall I find enemies enough for you to slay? You went out in pride and you have returned in glory. Are you not yet satisfied? And as for any secret foe, if I have any I do not know him. Rest, therefore; eat and drink and spend your days in peace.'
'I care little for either food or drink,' Khaled answered, 'and I need little rest.'
​'Will nothing but war please you? Must you overcome Egypt and make Syria pay tribute as far as Damascus before you will rest?'
'I will conquer the whole world for you, if you wish it,' said Khaled.
'What should I do with the world?' asked Zehowah. 'Have I not treasures and garments enough and to spare, besides the spoil you have now brought home? And besides, if you would conquer the world you must needs make war upon true believers, amongst whom we do not count the people of Shammar. Be satisfied therefore and rest in peace.'
'How shall I be satisfied until I have kindled the light in Zehowah's eyes at my coming, and until I feel that her hand is cold and trembles when I take it in mine?'
'Do I say to my eyes, "be dull"—or to my hand, "do not tremble"?' Zehowah asked. 'Is this, which you ask of me, something I can command at will, as I can a smile or a word? If it is, teach me and I will learn. But if not, why do you expect of me what I cannot do? Can a camel gallop like a horse, or a horse trot like a camel, or bear great burdens through the desert? Have you come back from a great war only to talk of this something which you call love, which is yours and not mine, which you feel and I cannot feel, which you cannot explain nor describe, and which, after ​all, is but a whim of the fancy, as one man loves sour drink and another sweet?'
'Do you think that love is nothing but a whim of the fancy?' asked Khaled bitterly.
'What else can it be? Would you love me if you were blind?'
'Yes.'
'And if you were deaf?'
'Yes.'
'And if you could not touch my face with your hands, nor kiss me with your lips?'
'Yes.'
Zehowah laughed.
'Then love is indeed a fancy. For if you could not see me, nor touch me, nor hear me, what would remain to you but an empty thought?'
'Have I seen you, or touched you, or heard your voice for these two months and a half?' asked Khaled. 'Yet I have loved you as much during all that time.'
'You mean that you have thought of me, as I have thought of you, by the memory of what was not fancy, but reality. Would you dispute with me, Khaled? You will find me subtle.'
'There is more wit in my arm than in my head,' Khaled answered, 'and it is not easy for a man to persuade a woman.'
'It is very easy, provided that the man have reason ​on his side. But where are the treasures you have brought back, the slaves and the rich spoils? I would gladly see some of them, for the messengers you sent told great tales of the riches of Haïl.'
'To-morrow they will be brought into the city. Your father has remained feasting in the gardens towards Dereyiyah, and the whole army with him. I rode hither alone.'
'Why did you not remain too?'
'Because that whim of the fancy which I call love brought me back,' Khaled answered.
'Then I am glad you love me,' said Zehowah. 'For I am glad you came quickly.'
'Are you truly glad?'
'I was very tired of my women,' she answered. 'I am sorry you have brought nothing with you. Are there any among the captives who are beautiful?'
'There is one, a present sent lately to the Sultan of Shammar. She is very beautiful, and unlike all the rest. Your father is much pleased with her, and will perhaps marry her.'
'Of what kind is her beauty?' asked Zehowah.
'She is as white as milk, her eyes are twin sapphires, her mouth is a rose, her hair is like gold reddened in fire.'
Zehowah was silent for a while, and twisted a string of musk-beads round her fingers.
​'The others are all Arabian women,' Khaled said at last.
'Why did you not keep the beautiful one for yourself?' asked Zehowah, suddenly throwing aside her beads and looking at him curiously. 'Surely you, who have borne the brunt of the war, might have chosen for yourself what pleased you best.'
Khaled looked at her in great astonishment.
'Have I not married Zehowah? Would you have me take another wife?'
'Why not? Is it not lawful for a man to take four wives at one time? And this woman might have loved you, as you desire to be loved.'
'Would it be nothing to you, if I took her?'
'Nothing. I am the King's daughter. I shall always be first in the house. I say, she might love you. Then you would be satisfied.'
'Zehowah, Zehowah!' cried Khaled. 'Is love a piece of gold, that it matters not whence it be, so long as a man has it in his own possession? Or is it wood of the 'Ood tree that one may buy it and bring it home and make the whole house fragrant with it? Is a man's heart like his belly, which is alike satisfied with different kinds of food?'
'He who eats, knows by the taste whether he eats Persian mutton, or barley bread, or only broiled locusts. But a man who believes that he is loved, knows that he ​is loved, so far as knowing is possible, and must be satisfied, if to be loved is what he desires.'
'That may be true. But he who desires bread is not satisfied with locusts. It is your love which I would have. Not the love of another.'
'You are like a man who hopes to get by argument a sum of money from one who has nothing,' said Zehowah, smiling at him. 'Can you make gold grow in the purse of a beggar? Or can you cause a ghada bush to bear dates by reasoning with it? Your heart is a palm tree, but mine is a ghada bush.'
'Yet an angel may touch the ghada and it will bear fruit,' answered Khaled, for he remembered how the angel had turned dry leaves into rich garments for him to wear.
'Doubtless, Allah can do all things. But where is the angel? Hear me, Khaled, for I speak very reasonably, as a wife should speak to her husband, who is her lord and master. My lord is not satisfied with me and desires something of me which is not mine to give. Let him take another wife beside me. I have given my lord a kingdom and great riches and power. Let him take another wife now, who will give him this fancy of his thoughts for which he yearns, though she have no other possessions. In this way my lord will be satisfied.'
Khaled listened sadly to what Zehowah said, and he ​began to despair, for he was not subtle in argument nor eloquent in speech. The reason of this was plain. In the days when he had been one of the genii he had wandered over the whole earth and had heard the eloquence of all nations and the arguments of all philosophers, learning therefrom that deeds are no part of words, and that they who would be believed must speak little and do much. But the genii possess no insight into the hearts of women.
Khaled reflected also that the length of life granted him was uncertain, and that he had already spent two months and a half at a distance from Zehowah in accomplishing the conquest whereby he had hoped to win her love. But since this had utterly failed, he cast about in his mind for some new deed to do, which could be done without leaving her even for a short time. But he was troubled by her indifference, and most of all by her proposing that he should take another wife. As he thought of this, he was filled with horror, and he understood that he loved Zehowah more than he had supposed, since he could not bear to think of setting another woman beside her.
Then his face became very dark and his eyes were like camp fires far off in the desert, and he took Zehowah's wrist in his hand, holding it tightly as though he would not let it go. As his heart grew hot in his breast, words came to his lips unawares like the ​speech of a man in a dream, and he heard his own voice as it were from a distance.
'I will not take another,' he said. 'What is the love of any other woman to me? It is as dust in the throat of a man thirsting for water. Show me a woman who loves me. Her face shall be but a cold mirror in which the image of a fire is reflected without warmth, her soft words shall be to me as the screaming of a parrot, her touch a thorn and her lips ashes. What is it to me if all the women of the world love me? Kindle a fire and burn them before me, for I care not. Let them perish all together, for I shall not know that they are gone. I love you and not another. Shall it profit a man to fill his mouth with dust, though it be the dust of gold mingled with precious stones, when he desires water? Or shall he be warmed in winter by the reflection of a fire in a mirror? By Allah! I want neither the wealth of Haïl, nor a wife with red hair. Let them take gold who do not ask for love. I want but one thing, and Zehowah alone can give it to me. Wallah! My heart burns. But I would give it to be burned for ever in hell if I might get your love now. This I ask. This only I desire. For this I will suffer and for this I am ready to die before my time.'
Zehowah was silent, looking at him with wonder, and yet not altogether pleased. She saw that she could not understand him, though she did as well as she could.
​'Has he not all that the heart of man can desire?' she thought. 'Am I not young and beautiful, and possessed of many jewels and treasures? Have I not given him wealth and power, and has he not with his own hand got the victory over his enemies and mine? And yet he is not satisfied. Surely, he is too hard to please.'
But he, reading her thoughts from her face, continued in his speech.
'What is all the happiness of the world without love?' he asked. 'It is like a banquet in which many rich viands are served, but the guests cannot eat them because there is no salt in any of them. And what is a beautiful woman without love? She is like a garden in which there are all kinds of rare flowers, and much grass, and deep shade, but in which a man cannot live, because nothing grows there which he can eat when he is hungry.'
'Truly,' said Zehowah, 'that is what you will make of your life. For there is a garden called Irem, planted in a secret place of the deserts about Aden, by Sheddad the son of Ad, who desired to outdo the gardens of paradise, and was destroyed for his impiety with all his people, by the hand of Allah. But a certain man named Abdullah ibn Kelabah was searching in the desert for a lost camel, and came unawares upon this place. There were fruits and water there and all that ​a man could wish for, and Abdullah dwelt in peace and plenty, praising Allah. Then on a certain day he desired to eat an onion, and finding none anywhere, he went out, intending to obtain one, and having eaten it, to return immediately. But though he searched the desert many months he was never able to find the garden again. Wherefore it is said that Abdullah ibn Kelabah lost the earthly paradise of Irem for a mouthful of onion.'
'How can you understand me if you do not love me?' asked Khaled. 'Love has its own language, and when two love they understand each the other's words. But when the one loves and the other loves not, they are strangers, though they be man and wife; or they are like Persians and Arabians not understanding either the other's speech, or that if the wife cries "father," her husband will bring her a cup of water supposing her to be thirsty. For those who would speak one language must be of one heart, and they who would be of one heart must love each other.'
Then Zehowah sighed and leaned against the cushions by the wall and drew her hand away from Khaled.
'What is it?' she asked in a low voice. 'What is it you would have?' But though she had already asked the question many times she found no answer, and none that he was able to give could enlighten her darkness.
'It is the spark that kindles the flame,' Khaled said, ​and he pointed to the lights that hung in the room. 'Your beauty is like that of a cunningly designed lamp, inlaid with gold and silver and covered with rich ornament, which is seen by day. But there is no light within, and it is cold, though it be full of oil and the wick be ready.'
Zehowah turned towards him somewhat impatiently.
'And you are as one who would kindle the flame with words, having no torch,' she answered.
'Have I not done deeds also?' asked Khaled. 'Or have I spoken much, that you should reproach me? Surely I have slain more of your enemies than I have spoken words to you to-night.'
'But have I asked for an offering of blood, or a marriage dower of dead bodies?'
Khaled was silent, for he was bitterly disappointed, and as his eyes fell upon the sword which hung on the wall, he felt that he could almost have taken it and made an end of Zehowah for very anger that she would not love him. Had he not gone out for her into the raging heat of summer, and borne the burden of a great war, and destroyed a nation and taken a city? Moreover, if neither words nor deeds could gain her love, what means remained to him to try?
All through the night Khaled pondered, calling up all that he had seen in the world in former times, until he fell asleep at last, wearied in heart.
​Very early in the morning one of Zehowah's women came and stood by his bed and waked him. He could see that her face was pale in the dawn, her limbs trembled and her voice was uncertain.
'Arise, my lord!' she said. 'A messenger has come from the army with evil news, and stands waiting in the court'
Khaled sprang up, and Zehowah awoke also.
'What is this message?' he asked hastily.
But the woman threw herself upon the floor and covered her face, as though begging forgiveness because she brought evil tidings.
'Speak!' said Zehowah. 'What is it?'
'Our lord the Sultan is dead!' cried the woman, and she broke out into weeping and crying and would say nothing more.
But when Zehowah heard that her father was dead, she sat down upon the floor and beat her breast and tore her hair, and wailed and wept, while all the women of the harem came and gathered round her and joined in her mourning, so that the whole palace was filled with the noise of their lamentations.
Khaled went out into the court and questioned the messenger, who told him that the Sultan had held a great feast in the evening in the gardens of Dereyiyah, having with him the woman Almasta and the other captive women, and being served by black slaves. But, ​suddenly, in the night, when most of the soldiers were already asleep, there had been a great cry, and the slaves and women had come running from the tent, crying that the Sultan was dead. This was true, and the Jewish physician who had gone out with his master declared that he had died from an access of humours to the head, brought on by a surfeit of sweetmeats, there being at the time an evil conjunction of Zoharah and Al Marech in square aspect to the moon and in the house of death.
Khaled therefore mounted his bay mare and rode quickly out to Dereyiyah, where he found that the news was true, and the women were already preparing the Sultan's body for burial. Having ordered the mourning, and commanded the army to prepare for the return to the city, Khaled set out with the funeral procession; and when he reached the walls of Riad he turned to the left and passed round to the north-east side of the city where the burial-ground is situated. Here he laid the body of his father-in-law in the tomb which the latter had prepared for himself during his lifetime, and afterwards, dismissing the mourners, he went back into the city to the palace.
After the days of mourning were accomplished, the will of the Sultan was made known, though indeed the people were well acquainted with it already. By his will Khaled succeeded to the sovereignty of the kingdom of Nejed ​and to all the riches and treasures which the Sultan had accumulated during his lifetime. But the people received the announcement with acclamations and much joy, followed by a great feasting, for which innumerable camels were slain. Khaled also called all the chief officers and courtiers to a banquet and addressed them in a few words, according to his manner.
'Men of Nejed,' he said, 'it has pleased Allah to remove to the companionship of the faithful our master the Sultan, my revered father-in-law, upon whom be peace, and to set me up among you as King in his stead, being the husband of his only daughter, which you all know. As for the past, you know me; but if I have wronged any man let him declare it and I will make reparation. And if not, let none complain hereafter. But as for the future I will be a just ruler so long as I live, and will lead the men of Nejed to war, when there is war, and will divide the spoil fairly; and in peace I will not oppress the people with taxes nor change the just and good laws of the kingdom. And now the feast is prepared. Sit down cheerfully, and may Allah give us both the appetite to enjoy and the strength to digest all the good things which shall be set before us.'
But Khaled himself ate sparingly, for his heart was heavy, and when they had feasted and drunk treng juice and heard music, he retired to the harem, where he found Zehowah sitting with Almasta, the Georgian ​woman, there being no other women present in the room. He was surprised when he saw Almasta, though he knew that the captive women had been lodged in the palace, the distribution of the spoil from the war having been put off by the mourning for the Sultan.
When Almasta heard him enter, she looked up quickly and a bright colour rose in her face, as when the juice of a pomegranate is poured into milk, and disappeared again as the false dawn before morning, leaving no trace. Khaled sat down.
'Is not this the woman of whom you spoke?' Zehowah asked. 'I knew her from the rest by her red hair.'
'This is the woman. Your father would have taken her for his wife. But Allah has disposed otherwise.'
'She is beautiful. She is worthy to be a king's wife,' said Zehowah.
'The Sultan?' asked Almasta, for she hardly understood. Her face turned as white as bone bleached by the sun, and her fingers trembled, while her eyes were cast down.
Zehowah looked at Khaled and laughed.
'See how she trembles and turns pale before you,' she said. 'And a little while ago her face was red. You have found a torch wherewith to kindle this lamp, and a breath that can extinguish it.'
'I do not know,' Khaled answered. But he looked ​attentively at Almasta and remained silent for some time. 'It is now necessary to divide the spoils of the war,' he said at last, 'and to bestow such of these women as you do not wish to keep upon the most deserving of the officers.'
'My lord will surely take the fairest for himself, since she loves him,' said Zehowah, again laughing, but somewhat bitterly.
'May my tongue be cloven and my eyes be put out, may my hands wither at the wrists and my feet fall from my ankles, if I ever take any wife but you,' said Khaled. 'Yallah! So be it.'
When Zehowah heard him say this, even while Almasta's face was unveiled before him, she understood, that he was greatly in earnest.
'Let me keep her for my handmaid,' she said at last.
'Is she mine that you need ask me? But it will be wiser to give her to Abdul Kerim, the sheikh of the horsemen. I have promised that the spoil should be fairly divided, and though few have seen this woman many have heard of her beauty. And besides, she would weary you, for she cannot talk in Arabian, nor does she seem quick to learn. Abdul Kerim has the first right, since Allah has removed your father, upon whom be peace.'
'Your words are my laws,' answered Zehowah ​obediently. 'And, indeed, it may be that you are right, for I believe she can neither dance nor sing, nor play upon any musical instrument. She would certainly weary me after a time, as you say. Give her therefore to Abdul Kerim for his share.'
They then made Almasta understand that she was to be given to the sheikh of the horsemen; but when she had understood she shook her head and smiled, though at first she said nothing, so that Khaled and Zehowah wondered whether she had comprehended what they had told her.
'Do you understand what we have told you?' asked Zehowah, who was diverted by her ignorance of the Arabic language.
'I understand.'
'And are you not pleased that you are to be the wife of Abdul Kerim, who is a rich man and still young?'
'I was to be the Sultan's wife,' said Almasta, with difficulty, looking at Khaled. 'You told me so.'
'The Sultan is dead,' Khaled answered.
'Who is the Sultan now?' she asked.
'Khaled is the Sultan,' said Zehowah.
'You said that I should be the Sultan's wife,' Almasta repeated.
'Doubtless, I said so,' Khaled replied. 'But Allah has ordered it otherwise.'
Almasta again smiled and shook her head.