Chapter 50: I VISIT LYONE IN CALNOGOR

I hastily opened the despatch, which read as follows:
“His Majesty King Aldemegry Bhoolmakar of Atvatabar wishes
to inform His Excellency Lexington White, commander-in-chief
of the insurrectionary army mobilized in Kioram, that Her
Holiness Lyone, late Goddess of Atvatabar, has been tried
before a full conclave of the Borodemy on the charge of
sacrilege, apostasy, and insurrection. Her holiness has been
found guilty and is now under sentence of death. His
majesty, of merciful intent, wishes it to be known that he
will pardon her holiness on this condition, viz.: That the
insurrectionary army lays down its arms forthwith, and the
wayleals separate and depart to their respective abodes;
that his excellency, the commander-in-chief, and his
generals surrender themselves to his majesty as prisoners of
war, to be tried and punished as military law dictates. This
surrender to include that of the admiral of the fleet and
the ships under his command.

“On no other condition whatever will mercy be extended to
her holiness, and should this offer be temporized with or
rejected nothing can save the late goddess from the sword of
justice.

“Dictated at the palace in Calnogor, in the twenty-fifth
year of his majesty’s reign.

“ALDEMEGRY BHOOLMAKAR.”

The king’s communication was received with a sensation of contempt and dismay. The thought of surrender was in itself preposterous, but when we thought that our rebellion would drive a sword into the heart of Lyone, the awful idea struck us dumb with horror!

The king possessed our proudest and most precious soul as hostage, and he was cowardly enough to sacrifice her as his most deadly blow to the insurrection.

The crisis was appalling.

“Shall we,” I cried, “continue the fight, now that we know it is our queen we fight against, that it is our arms that will murder her?”

“We certainly do not murder her,” said Hushnoly; “and yet this unexpected crisis paralyzes me.”

“The king will not dare to murder the queen,” said the grand sorcerer; “and if he does--”

The sorcerer suddenly checked himself; the mere contemplation of such an event was overpowering, yet he seemed, of all others, the most composed. His eyes shone with a strange fire that I had not hitherto noticed.

“I am satisfied,” said Governor Ladalmir, “that unless we lay down our arms and submit ourselves to his mercy, which means death to every one here, the fate of the queen is sealed.”

“I think,” said the high priestess Zooly-Soase, “that his excellency, the commander-in-chief, should, if possible, obtain an order from the king permitting him to visit her majesty, and advise her of the entire facts of the situation, and then act as she commands. If she asks us to lay down our arms and surrender ourselves as the price of her liberty, there is none, I think, who would be so faithless as to refuse.”

“And I,” said the grand sorceress, “approve of your proposal. I am willing to surrender myself to save the life of the late goddess.”

“We are all willing to sacrifice ourselves if need be!” shouted the entire council with generous and chivalrous enthusiasm.

“I will go,” said I, “and see Lyone, as you propose, and upon her decision will depend our future action.”

A courier was immediately despatched under a flag of truce to the palace at Calnogor, with the message that before his majesty’s communication could be replied to, the commander-in-chief of the army of the late goddess desired to have an interview with her majesty, to decide upon a final answer thereto, and to request a royal passport not only admitting him to the presence of Lyone in the fortress at Calnogor, but also permitting his safe return to Kioram.

“I fear,” said Hushnoly, “the queen herself may be so confident in the success of her cause that she will overlook any danger to herself. It would be a signal success to save her without our own surrender, but that is impossible until we defeat the royal army.”

“What say you, grand sorcerer?” said I. “Do you think my mission will be successful as regards the life of Lyone?”

“I have already foreseen this crisis,” said he; “but I believe the end will be triumphant.”

His majesty, in reply to my despatch, sent me a royal passport that admitted me to the fortress to converse with Lyone, and which would protect me until my return to Kioram.

“Tell her majesty,” said the grand sorcerer, “not to fear the king; that we will save her, even should she nobly disdain to accept our surrender for her life.”

“How do you propose to save her life in case she forfeits it?” I eagerly inquired.

“I cannot tell you,” he replied, “for occult knowledge can only be apprehended by the initiated. Every great reform requires its martyr, and it may be that the queen will be our martyr, no matter what we do.”