A majordomo handed the Rorka a golden fillet of beautiful workmanship
studded with diamonds. This was placed on Alan’s head by the Rorka
himself, who said—“Oh Alan, known hence forward by the Royal prefix of
Ak—I salute thee. Thou hast taken the oaths of allegiance to me, your
Rorka. Thy fidelity and love thou hast offered me. I salute thee, Oh
Ak-Alan,” and he took him by both hands, and kissed him on either cheek,
and raised him to the topmost step of the throne. Then Alan faced the
people.
“Behold him,” said the Rorka. “Ak-Alan, a noble of the House of Pluthoz.
Acclaim him as your own, for he is indeed a Prince of the House of your
Rorka.”
How the people cheered! With one accord they shouted and surged forward
to the foot of the throne, and stretched out their hands to their newly
made prince. Alan was delighted with his reception, and had an
individual word to say to nearly every one who came near him. The story
of his adventure for Chlorie had been widely told; Kulmervan’s treachery
was known; and every one welcomed the newcomer royally. But this was
only the beginning. Ak-Alan had to become a Djoh of the Outer Shelter,
and to receive the blue ribbon of his office. The Golden Circle of Unity
of Keemar was placed on his finger—The Star of Joy—The Order of Hope—all
these ceremonies took their time. But they were all picturesque and
interesting.
Many times had he looked upon Chlorie, but never had an opportunity been
given to him to speak with her alone. But at his ardent gaze, the shy
colour would mount her cheeks, and her eyes would drop in sweet
embarrassment.
Waz-Y-Kjesta had been appointed to the Royal Household of Ak-Alan, and
was delighted to have the opportunity to remain by the side of the
friend he had made. Persoph the Jkak, and Mirasu the Jkakalata had sent
handsome presents to Alan and Chlorie, and had expressed their sorrow
when Desmond had announced his intention of settling down in Hoormoori.
“We want to be near Alan,” explained Sir John.
“We shall miss you of course. We are grateful for your kindness to us
all since we arrived so strangely in your land. But we should miss the
society of our kinsman, we must stay near him.”
“We understand,” said Persoph. “But visit us, my friends, and allow us
to visit you. Your friendship is dear to us—your esteem we prize.”
Several orders had been offered Sir John, but he stuck to his prefix
throughout. “My father earned it,” he explained. “I honour him by using
it. Please allow me to keep it,” and the Rorka gave his permission.
During all this time Masters had scarcely left Sir John’s side. A
devoted friend, a loyal servant, he remained always at hand in case the
old man needed him. And when Alan had been appointed Ak of the House of
Pluthoz, Masters received the shock of his life. Suddenly the majordomo
cried out, “And I command Masters of the household of Sir John to kneel
at the foot of the Rorka’s throne.”
Masters turned dead white, and looked appealingly at Sir John.
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