1 a vizier's daughter - Hazara.net

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A VIZIER’S DAUGHTER – A TALE OF THE HAZARA WAR
“That is no reason why he should be weeping still,” another of the
pages remarked. “What would your Majesty do if every man who lost a
wife were to mourn her three months? A fine thing that would be for
the man who had a hundred wives. Why, he would never be out of
mourning.”
“Your Majest y would soon restrict the number of our wives. We should
become a Christian people, ruled by one wife while she was alive, and
her slave still after she was dead,” called out another, who was a sort
of court jester, and glad to have a chance of ridiculing the man whose
more refined wit was often appreciated above his own coarse jo kes.
“Silence,” thundered the Ameer in the voice that all Afghanistan obeys.
“Silence, every one of you. By what a pack of rogues am I not
surrounded. Now you have proclaimed yo urselves for what you really
are.” Insensibly they slunk back, and left the solitary figure leaning o n
his stick, standing alone in the middle of the room. “You men, what do
you know of faith and love and honour? Today you swear fealt y to one
master, to-morrow you sell yourselves, your oaths, your honour, to
another. To-day you marry one wife, and tell her God knows what of
love, but to-morrow a feast is prepared and the house made ready for
another. No wonder my countr y is a prey to robbers, and murderers,
and thieves; loyalt y and fidelit y are qualities that are not in you. The
wild beasts would understand me, but not you, you are too low, sunk
far beneath their level. Come here, my son” (addressing his secretary),
“come to me and be comforted; we are men, you and I, the others are
hardly fit to be called wolves.”
The Chief Secretary crossed the room and knelt by his master’s side,
love and gratitude beaming from his great hazel e yes.
“You must not fret and make yourself ill,” the Ameer went on. “You
must remember that we have need not only of your work, which never
flags, but of your company. We have missed you in the evenings of
late, the company has seemed dull and spiritless without you. For our
sake you must console yourself, and come to Durbar and help us with
our entertainments. You will make this effort to please us, will you
not?”
He was gentle and sympathetic as a woman amidst the fury of a nature
stronger and fiercer than most men’s. And therein lies the charm that
binds men to him. In a storm of passion that seems unrestrainable,
boundless, he will la y his hand soothingly on a wound or aching head,
or turn and comfort a little frightened child, the furrows on his
thundery brow all smoothed out, the fire in his eyes subdued, his set
jaw relaxed, a smile upon his lips. There comes a perfect burst of
sunshine through what had seemed but a moment before an
impenetrab le cloud, and the spot on which the rays fall full is for the
moment bathed in light and gladness.