Page:Weird Tales Volume 13 Number 1 (1929-01).djvu/64

window in front of her drifted the hum of the busy streets below. From the palace pleasure-grounds a soft breeze wafted the heavy perfume of roses and orange-blossoms into that cool retreat. In the peaceful half-light of the pillared hall, whose alabaster columns reflected in the dark-green marble floor seemed to her whimsical fancy a flock of giant swans dipping their nhcks in water, she could lie and watch through the open portico gay butterflies flitting in radiant sunshine from flower to flower of the scented gardens, poised for a second on the brink of a tinkling fountain.

In attendance on her were her handmaidens, Alipriya and Hasamurti, along with Bauna the Dwarf, one of the few men whom she was permitted to see.

Of the two girls Hasamurti was her favorite. She was smaller than her mistress, lovely, feather-brained, fond of intrigue—well named Laughter Incarnate. Alipriya was a graver beauty, conceited, sullen sometimes, but skilled in the singing of love-songs to the lute-shaped vina. As for Bauna the Dwarf, grizzle-bearded, with the strength and valor of a lion in his squat body, yet with ever a humorous twinkle in his keen dark eyes, the princess knew that he would give his life for her. "Was she not Aparajita, the Peerlees One?" he would say to himself, as he sat by the window teaching some new tricks to Chor Khan, the monkey.

And, in truth, she was worthy of a man's adoration. Her face was a pure oval, the chin a little pointed, like a peepul-leaf. The crest-jewel of her charms was her mouth, drooped slightly at the corners, the soul of vermilion in her lips. Her eyes were lazy mirrors, long-lashed under the twin arches of her brow. A coil of dusky, jasmine-scented hair twined over one rounded hip curved like a breaking wave. Upon the silken bodice a shell-pink lotus nestled in the hollow between her breasts. From the waist downward she was robed in silver tissue, which scarce concealed the graceful symmetry of dainty limbs. There were rings and jewels everywhere: pendent, from delicate nostrils, on slender throat and arms, on fingers and little feet rosy with henna.

But though she was made for love, and dreamed of it, love would never be hers. She knew that clearly. Parents she had none; and Raja Nal Singh, her uncle, Chief of Kamber, bent on alliance with the neighboring state of Aundi, had framed her destiny. Though a princess, she was but a pawn in a game between two khigs. The gem-studded coconut, symbol of a marriage offer, had been accepted. Before the year had died she would be consort of one old enough to be her father, drug-sodden, sated with life, wearied of other women! With a sigh she turned her head, and gazed down through the lattice at the freedom of the open street.

Standing under a peepul-tree, close to Abdulla's shop, she saw a tall figure clothed in the garb of an ascetic. His face was upturned, and his lips were moving, as though in converse with himself.

"Who is yonder sannyasi?" she inquired of Bauna the Dwarf.

Bauna rose, and with the two girls looked through the window.

"He is Sattyamurti the Saint," he answered, promptly. "A holy man, indeed—not like the others. Even the raja listens when he speaks."

"He has the face of one who would bring peace," the princess murmured. "But see!—he talks with someone, though there is none present!"

"All sannyasis are mad!" declared Hasamurti, giggling.

"Perhaps he is making a jap!" Alipriya suggested, with a shiver, fingering the charm at her neck. "It is well known that such men can