<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XXXI" id="CHAPTER_XXXI"></SPAN>CHAPTER XXXI.</h2>
<p class="h2">THE SACRIFICE.</p>
<ANTIMG class="dropimg" src="images/drop_t.jpg" alt="T" />
<p class="noin"><span style="font-weight:bold">HINGS</span>
in the palace were in a strange condition:
the king playing with a child and
dreaming wise dreams, waited upon by a little
princess with the heart of a queen, and a
youth from the mines, who went nowhere, not even into
the king's chamber, without his mattock on his shoulder
and a horrible animal at his heels; in a room near by the
colonel of his guard, also in bed, without a soldier to
obey him; in six other rooms, far apart, six miscreants,
each watched by a beast-gaoler; ministers to them all, an
old woman, a young woman, and a page; and in the
wine-cellar, forty-three animals, creatures more grotesque
than ever brain of man invented. None dared approach
its gates, and seldom one issued from them.</p>
<p>All the dwellers in the city were united in enmity to
the palace. It swarmed with evil spirits, they said,
whereas the evil spirits were in the city, unsuspected.
One consequence of their presence was that, when the
rumour came that a great army was on the march against
Gwyntystorm, instead of rushing to their defences, to
make new gates, free portcullises and drawbridges, and
bar the river, each and all flew first to their treasures,
burying them in their cellars and gardens, and hiding
them behind stones in their chimneys; and, next to
rebellion, signing an invitation to his majesty of Borsagrass
to enter at their open gates, destroy their king, and annex
their country to his own.</p>
<p>The straits of isolation were soon found in the palace:
its invalids were requiring stronger food, and what was to
be done? for if the butchers sent meat to the palace, was
it not likely enough to be poisoned? Curdie said to
Derba he would think of some plan before morning.</p>
<p>But that same night, as soon as it was dark, Lina came
to her master, and let him understand she wanted to go
out. He unlocked a little private postern for her, left it
so that she could push it open when she returned, and
told the crocodile to stretch himself across it inside. Before
midnight she came back with a young deer.</p>
<p>Early the next morning the legserpent crept out of the
wine-cellar, through the broken door behind, shot into
the river, and soon appeared in the kitchen with a
splendid sturgeon. Every night Lina went out hunting,
and every morning Legserpent went out fishing, and both
invalids and household had plenty to eat. As to news,
the page, in plain clothes, would now and then venture
out into the market-place, and gather some.</p>
<p>One night he came back with the report that the army
of the king of Borsagrass had crossed the border. Two
days after, he brought the news that the enemy was now
but twenty miles from Gwyntystorm.</p>
<p>The colonel of the guard rose, and began furbishing
his armour—but gave it over to the page, and staggered
across to the barracks, which were in the next street.
The sentry took him for a ghost or worse, ran into the
guard-room, bolted the door, and stopped his ears. The
poor colonel, who was yet hardly able to stand, crawled
back despairing.</p>
<p>For Curdie, he had already, as soon as the first rumour
reached him, resolved, if no other instructions came, and
the king continued unable to give orders, to call Lina
and the creatures, and march to meet the enemy. If he
died, he died for the right, and there was a right end of
it. He had no preparations to make, except a good
sleep.</p>
<p>He asked the king to let the housemaid take his place
by his majesty that night, and went and lay down on the
floor of the corridor, no farther off than a whisper would
reach from the door of the chamber. There, with an
old mantle of the king's thrown over him, he was soon
fast asleep.</p>
<p>Somewhere about the middle of the night, he woke
suddenly, started to his feet, and rubbed his eyes. He
could not tell what had waked him. But could he be
awake, or was he not dreaming? The curtain of the
king's door, a dull red ever before, was glowing a gorgeous,
a radiant purple; and the crown wrought upon it
in silks and gems was flashing as if it burned! What
could it mean? Was the king's chamber on fire? He
darted to the door and lifted the curtain. Glorious
terrible sight!</p>
<p>A long and broad marble table, that stood at one end
of the room, had been drawn into the middle of it, and
thereon burned a great fire, of a sort that Curdie knew—a
fire of glowing, flaming roses, red and white. In the
midst of the roses lay the king, moaning, but motionless.
Every rose that fell from the table to the floor,
some one, whom Curdie could not plainly see for the
brightness, lifted and laid burning upon the king's face,
until at length his face too was covered with the live
roses, and he lay all within the fire, moaning still, with
now and then a shuddering sob. And the shape that
Curdie saw and could not see, wept over the king as he
lay in the fire, and often she hid her face in handfuls of
her shadowy hair, and from her hair the water of her
weeping dropped like sunset rain in the light of the roses.
At last she lifted a great armful of her hair, and shook it
over the fire, and the drops fell from it in showers, and
they did not hiss in the flames, but there arose instead as
it were the sound of running brooks. And the glow of
the red fire died away, and the glow of the white fire
grew gray, and the light was gone, and on the table all
was black—except the face of the king, which shone from
under the burnt roses like a diamond in the ashes of a
furnace.</p>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/gs08.jpg" alt="gs08" /></div>
<p class="caption"><i>In the midst of the roses lay the king, moaning, but motionless.</i></p>
<br clear="all" />
<p>Then Curdie, no longer dazzled, saw and knew the old
princess. The room was lighted with the splendour of
her face, of her blue eyes, of her sapphire crown. Her
golden hair went streaming out from her through the air
till it went off in mist and light. She was large and
strong as a Titaness. She stooped over the table-altar,
put her mighty arms under the living sacrifice, lifted the
king, as if he were but a little child, to her bosom,
walked with him up the floor, and laid him in his bed.
Then darkness fell.</p>
<p>The miner-boy turned silent away, and laid himself
down again in the corridor. An absolute joy filled his
heart, his bosom, his head, his whole body. All was safe;
all was well. With the helve of his mattock tight in his
grasp, he sank into a dreamless sleep.</p>
<hr class="chapter" />
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />