Adventure stories; Fantasy fiction, English; Quatermain, Allan (Fictitious character) -- Fiction
“The Guardian of the heavenly Child, the Nurse decreed, the appointed
Nurturer, She who is the shadow of her that bore the Child, She who in
her day bears the symbol of the Child and is consecrated to its service
from of old, She whose heart is filled with the wisdom of the Child and
who utters the decrees of Heaven, has spoken. Hearken now to the voice
of the Oracle uttered in answer to the questions of me, Harût, the head
priest of the Eternal Child during my life-days. Thus says the Oracle,
the Guardian, the Nurturer, marked like all who went before her with
the holy mark of the new moon. She on whom the spirit, flitting from
generation to generation, has alighted for a while. ‘O people of the
White Kendah, worshippers of the Child in this land and descendants of
those who for thousands of years worshipped the Child in a more ancient
land until the barbarians drove it thence with the remnant that
remained. War is upon you, O people of the White Kendah. Jana the evil
one; he whose other name is Set, he whose other name is Satan, he who
for this while lives in the shape of an elephant, he who is worshipped
by the thousands whom once you conquered, and whom still you bridle by
my might, comes up against you. The Darkness wars against the Daylight,
the Evil wars against the Good. My curse has fallen upon the people of
Jana, my hail has smitten them, their corn and their cattle; they have
no food to eat. But they are still strong for war and there is food in
your land. They come to take your corn; Jana comes to trample your god.
The Evil comes to destroy the Good, the Night to Devour the Day. It is
the last of many battles. How shall you conquer, O People of the Child?
Not by your own strength, for you are few in number and Jana is very
strong. Not by the strength of the Child, for the Child grows weak and
old, the days of its dominion are almost done, and its worship is
almost outworn. Here alone that worship lingers, but new gods, who are
still the old gods, press on to take its place and to lead it to its
rest.’
“How then shall you conquer that, when the Child has departed to its
own place, a remnant of you may still remain? In one way only—so says
the Guardian, the Nurturer of the Child speaking with the voice of the
Child; by the help of those whom you have summoned to your aid from
far. There were four of them, but one you have suffered to be slain in
the maw of the Watcher in the cave. It was an evil deed, O sons and
daughters of the Child, for as the Watcher is now dead, so ere long
many of you who planned this deed must die who, had it not been for
that man’s blood, would have lived on a while. Why did you do this
thing? That you might keep a secret, the secret of the theft of a
woman, that you might continue to act a lie which falls upon your head
like a stone from heaven.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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