the journey of the king

i

one day the king turned to the women that danced and said to them: "dance no more," and those that bore the wine in jewelled cups he sent away. the palace of king ebalon was emptied of sound of song and there rose the voices of heralds crying in the streets to find the prophets of the land.

then went the dancers, the cupbearer and the singers down into the hard streets among the houses, pattering leaves, silvern fountain and summer lightning, the dancers whose feet the gods had not devised for stony ways, which had only danced for princes. and with them went the singer, soul of the south, and the sweet singer, dream of the sea, whose voices the gods had attuned to the ears of kings, and old istahn the cupbearer left his life's work in the palace to tread the common ways, he that had stood at the elbows of three kings of zarkandhu and had watched his ancient vintage feeding their valour and mirth as the waters of tondaris feed the green plains to the south. ever he had stood grave among their jests, but his heart warmed itself solely by the fire of the mirth of kings. he too, with the singers and dancers, went out into the dark.

and throughout the land the heralds sought out the prophets thereof. then one evening as king ebalon sat alone within his palace there were brought before him all who had repute for wisdom and who wrote the histories of the times to be. then the king spake, saying: "the king goeth upon a journey with many horses, yet riding upon none, when the pomp of travelling shall be heard in the streets and the sound of the lute and the drum and the name of the king. and i would know what princes and what people shall greet me on the other shore in the land to which i travel."

then fell a hush upon the prophets for they murmured: "all knowledge is with the king."

then said the king: "thou first, samahn, high prophet of the temple of gold in azinorn, answer or thou shalt write no more the history of the times to be, but shalt toil with thy hand to make record of the little happenings of the days that were, as do the common men."

then said samahn: "all knowledge is with the king," and when the pomp of travelling shall be heard in the streets and the slow horses whereon the king rideth not go behind lute and drum, then, as the king well knoweth, thou shalt go down to the great white house of kings and, entering the portals where none are worthy to follow, shalt make obeisance alone to all the elder kings of zarkandhu, whose bones are seated upon golden thrones grasping their sceptres still. therein thou shalt go with robes and sceptre through the marble porch, but thou shalt leave behind thee thy gleaming crown that others may wear it, and as the times go by come in to swell the number of the thirty kings that sit in the great white house on golden thrones. there is one doorway in the great white house, and it stands wide with marble portals yawning for kings, but when it shall receive thee, and thine obeisance hath been made because of thine obligation to the thirty kings, thou shalt find at the back of the house an unknown door through which the soul of a king may just pass, and leaving thy bones upon a golden throne thou shalt go unseen out of the great white house to tread the velvet spaces that lie among the worlds. then, o king, it were well to travel fast and not to tarry about the houses of men as do the souls of some who still bewail the sudden murder that sent them upon the journey before their time, and who, being yet both to go, linger in dark chambers all the night. these, setting forth to travel in the dawn and travelling all the day, see earth behind them gleaming when an evening falls, and again are loth to leave its pleasant haunts, and come back again through dark woods and up into some old loved chamber, and ever tarry between home and flight and find no rest.

thou wilt set forth at once because the journey is far and lasts for many hours; but the hours on the velvet spaces are the hours of the gods, and we may not say what time such an hour may be if reckoned in mortal years.

at last thou shalt come to a grey place filled with mist, with grey shapes standing before it which are altars, and on the altars rise small red flames from dying fires that scarce illumine the mist. and in the mist it is dark and cold because the fires are low. these are the altars of the people's faiths, and the flames are the worship of men, and through the mist the gods of old go groping in the dark and in the cold. there thou shalt hear a voice cry feebly: "inyani, inyani, lord of the thunder, where art thou, for i cannot see?" and a voice shall answer faintly in the cold: "o maker of many worlds, i am here." and in that place the gods of old are nearly deaf for the prayers of men grow few, they are nigh blind because the fires burn low upon the altars of men's faiths and they are very cold. and all about the place of mist there lies a moaning sea which is called the sea of souls. and behind the place of mist are the dim shapes of mountains, and on the peak of one there glows a silvern light that shines in the moaning sea; and ever as the flames on the altars die before the gods of old the light on the mountain increases, and the light shines over the mist and never through it as the gods of old grow blind. it is said that the light on the mountain shall one day become a new god who is not of the gods of old.

there, o king, thou shalt enter the sea of souls by the shore where the altars stand which are covered in mist. in that sea are the souls of all that ever lived on the worlds and all that ever shall live, all freed from earth and flesh. and all the souls in that sea are aware of one another but more than with hearing or sight or by taste or touch or smell, and they all speak to each other yet not with lips, with voices which need no sound. and over the sea lies music as winds o'er an ocean on earth, and there unfettered by language great thoughts set outward through the souls as on earth the currents go.

once did i dream that in a mist-built ship i sailed upon that sea and heard the music that is not of instruments, and voices not from lips, and woke and found that i was upon the earth and that the gods had lied to me in the night. into this sea from fields of battle and cities come down the rivers of lives, and ever the gods have taken onyx cups and far and wide into the worlds again have flung the souls out of the sea, that each soul may find a prison in the body of a man with five small windows closely barred, and each one shackled with forgetfulness.

but all the while the light on the mountain grows, and none may say what work the god that shall be born of the silvern light shall work on the sea of souls, when the gods of old are dead and the sea is living still.

and answer made the king:

"thou that art a prophet of the gods of old, go back and see that those red flames burn more brightly on the altars in the mist, for the gods of old are easy and pleasant gods, and thou canst not say what toil shall vex our souls when the god of the light on the mountain shall stride along the shore where bleach the huge bones of the gods of old."

and samahn answered: "all knowledge is with the king."