Adventure stories; Asia, Central -- Fiction; Fantasy fiction; Love stories; Science fiction
“Riding with the princess to see a friend of hers.” Payindah and Firoz
had christened Aryenis the “Shahzadi” (the princess) from the day we
met her father, and discovered that she was a person of some note in
the country.
“It is time you wedded a wife,” said Payindah, handing me my _chaplis_.
“Otherwise there will be no Lake sahibs in the regiment later on when
my nephew becomes a subadar. Such a one as the Shahzadi, whose eyes are
steady when they look on death, and who climbs like a markhor, and is,
moreover, good-looking in the manner of the sahibs, would be a fitting
mother of sons.”
“Don’t be a blithering ass, Payindah!” said I, putting on the
_chaplis_. “Go away with Temra and swagger in the bazaar.”
I could see that he had taken some pains to make himself as smart as he
could. Doubtless it was pleasant to him to observe the women frankly
admiring him, and telling of his part in saving Aryenis.
“Why do the sahibs always get angry when one speaks to them on
marriage, pretending they have never thought of any such things? Now,
among _my_ people of the Punjab--”
But I was out of the door by then, and did not hear the rest. Typical
talk of an old sepoy, who considered it his business to tell his sahib
what he ought or ought not to do. All the same, I reflected, Aryenis’s
eyes were very steady when they looked on death. Moreover, they were
exceedingly beautiful--in fact, quite in keeping with the rest of her.
And with that reflection I entered the great hall.
CHAPTER XVI
ARYENIS AND I VISIT PAULOS
As I entered, Aryenis appeared on the staircase the other side of
the hall in her riding-dress, and I realized once more the truth of
Payindah’s words. She was extremely good-looking, if such a word can
be applied fairly to some one who is very beautiful. Yes; she would be
just the sort of wife of whom a man would feel really proud.
She looked at me critically and then smiled.
“I thought that only women were supposed to be vain. Why, O Harilek,
have you got that coloured thing round your throat? Is this a custom of
your folk when they go out riding with ladies to see old men? You have
also got on another coat, not so shabby as the one you usually have. I
think”--she looked again--“it is the one I used to wear.”
It was, as a matter of fact.
“All the same,” she went on, “when we get to Miletis you must have new
things. I think that I will see to it, since men are not to be trusted
to choose their clothes.”
“Thank you, Aryenis,” said I. “You told us we were not able to feed
ourselves. Are we trusted to do anything?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account