The Great White Queen: A Tale of Treasure and Treason

No smile of welcome crossed her cold, implacable features as her gaze met that of her son Omar; no enthusiastic or maternal greeting passed her lips. Her maids of honour and courtiers grouped about her murmured approbation and welcome as the heavy curtains fell aside, but frowning slightly she raised her bejewelled claw-like hand impatiently with a gesture commanding silence, darting hasty glances of displeasure upon those who had, by applauding, lowered her regal dignity. On either side black female slaves in garments of crimson silk and wearing golden girdles, massive earrings and neck chains, slowly fanned the ruler of Mo with large circular fans of ostrich feathers, and from a pedestal near her a tiny fountain of some fragrant perfume shot up and fell with faint plashing into its basin of marvellously-cut crystal. The splendour was barbaric yet refined, illustrative everywhere of the tastes of these denizens of the unknown kingdom. The walls of the great hall were strangely sculptured with colossal monstrosities, mostly hideous designs, apparently intended to depict the awful wrath of the deity Zomara, while here and there were curious frescoes of almost photographic finish, the execution of which had been accomplished by some art quite unknown to European civilization. The paving whereon we stood was of jasper, highly polished, with here and there strange outlines inlaid with gold. These outlines, a little crude and unfinished, were mostly illustrative of the power of the Nayas, depicting scenes of battle, justice and execution.

"Let our son Omar stand forth and approach our Emerald Throne," exclaimed the Naya at last, in a thin, rasping voice, moving slightly as she bent forward, fixing her shining eyes upon us. They glittered with evil.

At the royal command all bowed low in submission, it being etiquette to do this whenever the Naya expressed command or wish, and Omar, leaving my side, strode forward with becoming hauteur, and, crossing the floor as highly polished as glass, advanced to his royal mother, and, bending upon his knee, pressed her thin, bony hand to his lips.

But even then no expression of pleasure crossed her stony features. I had expected to witness an affectionate meeting between mother and son, and was extremely surprised at the coldness of my friend's reception, having regard to his long absence and the many perils we had together faced on our entry into Mo.

"News was flashed unto me last night that thou hadst crossed the Thousand Steps," the Queen said, slowly withdrawing her bony hand. "Why hast thou returned from the land of the white men, and why, pray, hast thou brought hither strangers with thee?"

"These strangers are heroes, each one of them," Omar answered, rising, and standing before the throne. "Every man has already fought for thee, and for Mo."

"For me? How?"

Then briefly he related how we had met the remnant of Samory's invading force and defeated them, so that not a single fugitive remained.

"These savages fought merely for their own lives, not for me," she said with a supercilious sneer, regarding the half-clad natives with disdain. "We in Mo desire not the introduction of such creatures as these."

"Are not my friends welcome?" Omar asked, pale with anger. "A Sanom hath never yet turned from his palace those who have proved themselves his friends."

"Neither hath a Sanom sought the aid of savages," answered the Great White Queen, with a glance of withering scorn.

"Adversity sometimes causeth us to seek strange alliances," my friend argued. "These men of the Dagomba, Kona, their head man, and Scarsmere, my friend from the land of the white men, have given me aid, and if thou accordest them no welcome, then I, Omar, in the name of my ancestors, the Nabas and the Nayas, will give them greeting, and provide them with befitting entertainment while they are within our walls."

His words caused instant consternation. The will of the Naya was not to be thwarted. Her every wish was law; a single word from her meant life or death. This openly-expressed opposition was, to the court, a most terrible offence, punishable by death to all others save the heir.

The Naya, her thin lips tightly set and cruelty lurking in the corners of her mouth, rose slowly with an air of terrible anger.

"Does our son Omar thus defy us?" she asked with grim harshness.

"I defy thee not O queen-mother," answered my friend, clasping his hands resolutely behind his back, and standing with his legs slightly apart. "I bring unto thee those who have fought for me, and have been my companions through many perils, expecting welcome. Were it not for them I, the last of our regal line, would be no longer living, and at thy death our kingdom would have been without a ruler."

"Son, the claim of these, thy friends, to my protection is admitted; nevertheless, the stranger, whoever he may be, is by the law of our kingdom that hath been rigorously observed for a thousand years, debarred from traversing the Thousand Steps."

As the queen spoke I noticed two gorgeously-attired men behind her, probably her chief advisers, exchange whispers with smiles of evident satisfaction.

"Then I am to understand that the Naya of Mo absolutely refuseth to sanction these my friends to dwell within our walls?" Omar said.

"We forbid these strangers to remain," answered the Queen, crimsoning with anger that her son should have thus argued with her. "They are granted until noon to-morrow to quit our city. Those found within our land after three suns have set will be held as slaves. I, the Naya, have spoken."

"As thou willest it, so it will be," answered her son, bowing very stiffly. Then, turning to us, he said:

"Friends, the people give you cordial welcome, even though the Naya may refuse to grant you peace. You shall remain–"

"Thou insultest us publicly," cried the Great White Queen, still standing erect, her black eyes flashing beneath the wisp of scanty grey hair, and her talon-like hand uplifted. "To utter such words hast thou returned from the land beyond the black seas? True, thou art my son, and some day will sit upon this my stool, but for thus opposing my will thou shalt be banished from Mo until such time as I am carried to the tombs of my fathers. Then, when thou returnest hither, thy reign shall be one of tumults and evil-doing. The people who now shout themselves hoarse because their idol Omar hath returned to them, shall, in that day, curse thee, and heap upon thee every indignity. May the Great Darkness encompass thee, may thine enemies break and crush thee, and may Zomara, the One of Power, smite and devour thee," and as she uttered these words she held up her long skinny arms to the hideous golden crocodile suspended over her, muttering some mystic sentences the while.

Her slaves and courtiers held their breath. The Great White Queen was cursing her only son. The Dagombas understood this action and stood aghast, while across the faces of the court dignitaries a few moments later there flitted faint sickly smiles. The scene was impressive, more so perhaps than any I had before witnessed. In her sudden ebullition of anger the Naya was indeed terrible.

From her thin blue lips curses most fearful rolled until even her courtiers shuddered. As she stood, her bony arms uplifted to the image of what was to her the greatest and most dreaded power on earth, she screamed herself hoarse, uttering imprecations until about her mouth there hung a blood-flecked foam, and her long finger-nails were driven deep into the flesh of her withered palms. All quaked visibly at her wrath, for none knew who might next offend her and pay the penalty for so doing with their lives: none knew who might next fall victim to her insane passion for causing suffering to others.

Omar alone stood calmly watching her; all others remained terrified, fearing to utter a single word.

Suddenly, in her mad passion, she shrieked:

"Gankoma! Gankoma! Come hither. There is still work for thee."

In an instant the chief executioner, a man of giant stature, gaudily attired and bearing a huge curved sword that gleamed ominously in the sunlight, stood before her, and bowing, answered:

"Your majesty is obeyed."

"There is one who hath betrayed his trust," cried the angry ruler. "To Babila, guardian of the Gate, we owe this intrusion of strangers in our land and these insults from the mouth of one who is unworthy to be called son. Bring forth Babila."

The executioner, sword in hand, advanced to where the trusty old custodian stood. At mention of his name a despairing cry had escaped him. He knew, alas! his fate was sealed.

Pale, trembling in the iron grip of the executioner, he was hurried forward before the dazzling Emerald Throne.

"See! he flinches, the perfidious old traitor!" the Naya cried. "His duty was to prevent any stranger from entering Mo, yet he actually assisted yonder horde of savages to gain access to our innermost courts. He–"

"Mercy, your majesty! mercy!" implored the unhappy man, falling prone at her feet. "I have guarded the Gate with my life always. I believed that thy son's friends were thine also."

"Silence!" shrieked the Naya. "Let not his voice again fall upon our ears. Let him die now, before our eyes, and let his carcase be given as offal to the dogs. Let one hundred of his guards die also. Others who would thwart us will thus be warned."

"Mercy!" screamed the wretched old fellow hoarsely, clasping his hands in fervent supplication.

"Gankoma, I have spoken," cried the Great White Queen, majestically waving her hand.

Babila, inactive by age, struggled to regain his feet, but ere he could do so, or before Omar could interfere, the executioner had lifted his sword with both hands. The sound of a dull blow was heard, and next second the head of the Queen's faithful servant rolled across the polished floor, while from the decapitated trunk the blood gushed forth and ran in an ugly serpentine stream over the jasper slabs.

A sudden thrill of horror ran through the crowd at this summary execution of one who had hitherto been implicitly trusted, but only for an instant was the ghastly body allowed to remain before the eyes of Queen and court, for half a dozen slaves had been standing in readiness with bowls of water, and some of these rushing forward carried away the head and body and flung it to the dogs, while others swiftly removed all traces of the gruesome spectacle.

Little wonder therefore that the great Naya should be held in awe by all her subjects, for in her anger she seemed capable of the most fiendish cruelty. As in Kumassi, so also in Mo, death seemed to come quickly, and for any paltry offence. Gankoma, executioner to the Great White Queen, was, I afterwards learnt, continually busy obeying the royal commands, and the rapidly increasing number of victims whose heads fell beneath his terrible knife was causing most serious discontent.

CHAPTER XXI

A FIGURE IN THE SHADOW

An hour after sundown I was seated with Omar and Kona on a mat in the courtyard of a house not far from the gates of the palace, where hospitality had been secretly offered us. We were discussing the situation. Our black followers, on leaving the presence of the irate queen, had gone out in small groups to wander through the wonderful city, having arranged to meet again at midnight.

The man in whose house we had found shelter was named Goliba, a staunch friend of Omar's, although one of the royal councillors. As we sat together this old man with long flowing white beard, keen aquiline features and black eyes that age had not dimmed, explained facts that amazed us. He told us that Kouaga, a favourite of the Naya, had been approached secretly by her as to the advisability of Omar's assassination. The old councillor had actually overheard this dastardly plot formed by the queen against her son, for she feared that owing to the harshness of her rule popular opinion might be diverted in his favour, and that she might be overthrown, and he set upon the Emerald Throne in her stead. The Naya had regretted sending Omar away for safety, so giving Kouaga a large sum of money, she ordered him to proceed to England and assassinate the heir. He left, and apparently on his way conceived the idea that he might, with considerable advantage, play a double game. Samory, whose secret agent in Mo he was, intended, he knew, to lead a great expedition against the unapproachable country, its principal object being to secure the vast treasures known to be concealed within the City in the Clouds. As Omar alone knew its secret hiding-place it occurred to Kouaga to convey him to the stronghold of the Mohammedan chief before assassinating him, and obtain from him the whereabouts of the great collection of gold and gems. The Naya had ordered that her son should be killed secretly in England, but this cowardly crime was averted by Kouaga's cupidity, and we had therefore been enticed to the Arab sheikh's headquarters. The object of both men being thwarted by Omar's refusal to divulge the secret, we had been sold into slavery and consigned as human sacrifices before King Prempeh.

"We'll be even yet with that scoundrel and traitor, Kouaga," Omar said, turning to me when Goliba had finished.

"If the command be given every man in Mo would go forth against Samory's accursed hordes," Goliba declared with emphasis, removing the mouthpiece of his long pipe from his lips. "But how dost thou intend now to act?" he asked Omar. "Remember thou art banished until the Naya's death. Let us hope that Zomara will not spare her long to tyrannize over our land and to plot against thy life," he added in a half whisper.

Omar started in surprise. This man, one of the principal advisers of his royal mother, was actually expressing a wish that she might die! It occurred to me, too, that if her advisers were antagonistic towards her, might not the poor, oppressed and afflicted people also be of the same mind?

"Speak, O Goliba," Omar said. "Is the balance of popular feeling actually against the Naya?"

"Entirely. Within the past few years the loyal spirit hath, on account of the revolting cruelties practised by thy royal mother, turned utterly against her. Before thy departure to the land beyond the black water the loyal feeling was uppermost because of the efforts of Moloto to obtain the crown. Now, however, that the power of his party is broken and the Naya, feeling her position invulnerable, hath commenced a reign of terror, disgust and despair are felt on every hand."