Part 18 (1/2)

Her slaves and courtiers held their breath. The Great White Queen was cursing her only son. The Dagombas understood this action and stood aghast, while across the faces of the court dignitaries a few moments later there flitted faint sickly smiles. The scene was impressive, more so perhaps than any I had before witnessed. In her sudden ebullition of anger the Naya was indeed terrible.

From her thin blue lips curses most fearful rolled until even her courtiers shuddered. As she stood, her bony arms uplifted to the image of what was to her the greatest and most dreaded power on earth, she screamed herself hoa.r.s.e, uttering imprecations until about her mouth there hung a blood-flecked foam, and her long finger-nails were driven deep into the flesh of her withered palms. All quaked visibly at her wrath, for none knew who might next offend her and pay the penalty for so doing with their lives: none knew who might next fall victim to her insane pa.s.sion for causing suffering to others.

Omar alone stood calmly watching her; all others remained terrified, fearing to utter a single word.

Suddenly, in her mad pa.s.sion, she shrieked:

”Gankoma! Gankoma! Come hither. There is still work for thee.”

In an instant the chief executioner, a man of giant stature, gaudily attired and bearing a huge curved sword that gleamed ominously in the sunlight, stood before her, and bowing, answered:

”Your majesty is obeyed.”

”There is one who hath betrayed his trust,” cried the angry ruler. ”To Babila, guardian of the Gate, we owe this intrusion of strangers in our land and these insults from the mouth of one who is unworthy to be called son. Bring forth Babila.”

The executioner, sword in hand, advanced to where the trusty old custodian stood. At mention of his name a despairing cry had escaped him.

He knew, alas! his fate was sealed.

Pale, trembling in the iron grip of the executioner, he was hurried forward before the dazzling Emerald Throne.

”See! he flinches, the perfidious old traitor!” the Naya cried. ”His duty was to prevent any stranger from entering Mo, yet he actually a.s.sisted yonder horde of savages to gain access to our innermost courts. He----”

”Mercy, your majesty! mercy!” implored the unhappy man, falling p.r.o.ne at her feet. ”I have guarded the Gate with my life always. I believed that thy son's friends were thine also.”

”Silence!” shrieked the Naya. ”Let not his voice again fall upon our ears. Let him die now, before our eyes, and let his carcase be given as offal to the dogs. Let one hundred of his guards die also. Others who would thwart us will thus be warned.”

”Mercy!” screamed the wretched old fellow hoa.r.s.ely, clasping his hands in fervent supplication.

”Gankoma, I have spoken,” cried the Great White Queen, majestically waving her hand.

Babila, inactive by age, struggled to regain his feet, but ere he could do so, or before Omar could interfere, the executioner had lifted his sword with both hands. The sound of a dull blow was heard, and next second the head of the Queen's faithful servant rolled across the polished floor, while from the decapitated trunk the blood gushed forth and ran in an ugly serpentine stream over the jasper slabs.

A sudden thrill of horror ran through the crowd at this summary execution of one who had hitherto been implicitly trusted, but only for an instant was the ghastly body allowed to remain before the eyes of Queen and court, for half a dozen slaves had been standing in readiness with bowls of water, and some of these rus.h.i.+ng forward carried away the head and body and flung it to the dogs, while others swiftly removed all traces of the gruesome spectacle.

Little wonder therefore that the great Naya should be held in awe by all her subjects, for in her anger she seemed capable of the most fiendish cruelty. As in k.u.ma.s.si, so also in Mo, death seemed to come quickly, and for any paltry offence. Gankoma, executioner to the Great White Queen, was, I afterwards learnt, continually busy obeying the royal commands, and the rapidly increasing number of victims whose heads fell beneath his terrible knife was causing most serious discontent.

CHAPTER XXI.

A FIGURE IN THE SHADOW.

AN hour after sundown I was seated with Omar and Kona on a mat in the courtyard of a house not far from the gates of the palace, where hospitality had been secretly offered us. We were discussing the situation. Our black followers, on leaving the presence of the irate queen, had gone out in small groups to wander through the wonderful city, having arranged to meet again at midnight.

The man in whose house we had found shelter was named Goliba, a staunch friend of Omar's, although one of the royal councillors. As we sat together this old man with long flowing white beard, keen aquiline features and black eyes that age had not dimmed, explained facts that amazed us. He told us that Kouaga, a favourite of the Naya, had been approached secretly by her as to the advisability of Omar's a.s.sa.s.sination. The old councillor had actually overheard this dastardly plot formed by the queen against her son, for she feared that owing to the harshness of her rule popular opinion might be diverted in his favour, and that she might be overthrown, and he set upon the Emerald Throne in her stead. The Naya had regretted sending Omar away for safety, so giving Kouaga a large sum of money, she ordered him to proceed to England and a.s.sa.s.sinate the heir. He left, and apparently on his way conceived the idea that he might, with considerable advantage, play a double game. Samory, whose secret agent in Mo he was, intended, he knew, to lead a great expedition against the unapproachable country, its princ.i.p.al object being to secure the vast treasures known to be concealed within the City in the Clouds. As Omar alone knew its secret hiding-place it occurred to Kouaga to convey him to the stronghold of the Mohammedan chief before a.s.sa.s.sinating him, and obtain from him the whereabouts of the great collection of gold and gems. The Naya had ordered that her son should be killed secretly in England, but this cowardly crime was averted by Kouaga's cupidity, and we had therefore been enticed to the Arab sheikh's headquarters. The object of both men being thwarted by Omar's refusal to divulge the secret, we had been sold into slavery and consigned as human sacrifices before King Prempeh.

”We'll be even yet with that scoundrel and traitor, Kouaga,” Omar said, turning to me when Goliba had finished.

”If the command be given every man in Mo would go forth against Samory's accursed hordes,” Goliba declared with emphasis, removing the mouthpiece of his long pipe from his lips. ”But how dost thou intend now to act?” he asked Omar. ”Remember thou art banished until the Naya's death. Let us hope that Zomara will not spare her long to tyrannize over our land and to plot against thy life,” he added in a half whisper.

Omar started in surprise. This man, one of the princ.i.p.al advisers of his royal mother, was actually expressing a wish that she might die! It occurred to me, too, that if her advisers were antagonistic towards her, might not the poor, oppressed and afflicted people also be of the same mind?