ACCOUNT OF THE CAMPAIGN--THE INTERVIEW BETWEEN REALMAH AND ATHLAH--THE BATTLE OF THE PLAIN.

The early events of the campaign were such as Realmah had foreseen. It is needless to recount the battles, for there is hardly a more dull thing in the way of narration than the narrative of a battle, unless it is given in full detail, or unless it is signalized by some remarkable incident or manœuvre.

The Phelatahs and the Doolmen, who operated to the north-east of the lake, were beaten, but not ingloriously. The army that was furnished by the subject provinces was also defeated.

Just as Realmah had anticipated, the men of the North, after defeating these armies, directed their course to Abibah. The army of the Ramassa went forth to meet them; and from day to day a battle was imminent.

Realmah, as has been said before, resolved to be present at this battle, but not to take any active part in it. He trusted Athlah thoroughly; was willing and ready to give him aid and advice; but told everybody that Athlah was to be the real general, and was to have the full credit for the conduct of the war outside the town of Abibah.

Realmah had a body-guard of sixty men, each of whom was devoted to him; and, previously to the battle, he told them what he had mentioned before to his councillors, that he had no intention whatever of dying on that field of battle, and that they must take care and bring him back to the town of Abibah unharmed. Before gunpowder was invented, it was very difficult to kill a man who had sixty devoted followers, each one of them ready to die for him.

It is a very remarkable statement to make, but it is true, that not one of Realmah’s subjects dared to surmise, much less to say, that it was cowardice on his part to resolve to come away from the battle alive and unharmed. On the contrary, all felt that while Realmah was gracious enough to remain alive, and to constitute himself as a rallying point for his subjects, the great cause could not be altogether lost.

Realmah did not name any successor: he knew that it would be idle to do so, for if _he_ fell, the hopes of the South would fall with him, and the Sheviri would hereafter be the mere slaves or vassals of the North.

The interview between Realmah and Athlah on the evening before the battle of the plain was a most interesting one.

In that vast area there was but one tent--the King’s. All his people knew his sickness and debility, and were delighted to provide for him that comfort and convenience which he would not ask for himself.

Athlah entered the King’s tent. Realmah and Athlah had for many years acted together in affectionate concert; but not one word had passed between them having reference to the past. The wisdom gained from experiencing the difficulties of high command had greatly improved Athlah. He had learned to know himself better, and to understand others better. He knew, for instance, that Realmah’s genius was one which could rebuke and dominate his own.

After the first greeting, Athlah fell upon his knees, and, kissing the King’s hand, begged pardon for his offences in past time. He said that in early days he had not known the greatness of the King.

Realmah raised him affectionately, and said, “What need of words, my Athlah? I have long known that you are the truest and most faithful of my subjects. And not subject, but friend and councillor, and of my heart, the core of heart.”

_Milverton._ You see, Sir Arthur, even in that distant age men talked, unconsciously, their Shakespere.

Realmah then explained to Athlah in close detail, as he had done before in general words, the whole drift of the campaign.

“The gods,” he said, “dear Athlah, do not always grant our first wishes; and time with them is long; and they are very patient. You must not rely upon gaining a victory. I have made up my mind to bear defeat. The plain to the rear of the wood, where Ramassa curves towards Bidolo-Vamah, must be the spot where, after defeat, you must collect the scattered troops of the three great armies. That spot is propitious to me.

“I have sent our good Londardo to the Phelatahs. He will bring what remains of their forces there.

“I mean to live. You are a warrior, Athlah; I am a craftsman: the resistance to the siege must be under my sole guidance; and, during many a weary night of sickness, have I revolved every incident that will probably occur in it. The siege it is that will test their power, and, I trust, consume their souls.

“The army of the Ramassa, in a few weeks, will be a great army, acting in concert with me.”

Then Athlah said, “And must I survive defeat, my King?”

“Yes; if you love me, live.”

Then Athlah said, “But I have never turned my back upon the enemy; all my wounds are in front.”

“What is life or death to a wise man, Athlah? Even the otlocol[28] has the sense to fly from superior force; but he comes again.

Footnote 28:

The puma, or lion.

“What is life, I say, my Athlah? On balmy days, when the breeze sighs gently, and all nature is bountiful and loving, I feel the spirit of my Ainah near me. I would but too gladly join her; but it must not be yet.”

Realmah then arranged what should be his mode of communication with Athlah, when that chief should have collected all their scattered forces in the plain to the rear of the great wood.

After Realmah had instructed Athlah fully upon these details, he embraced him lovingly; and the general then took leave of his king.

* * * * *

Athlah was attended by a splendid body-guard, formed of the flower of the army. His conduct must have appeared strange to them. After leaving the King’s tent, he walked with hesitating steps. When he had moved a little distance, he drove his spear into the ground and leaned against it, regarding the tent with a fixed look. The chiefs of the Sheviri thought that he was meditating about the battle that was imminent, and observing, with the cautious eyes of a commander, the nature of the ground. But his thoughts were of a very different complexion. The great French writer, Victor Hugo, in his description of “the last days of a condemned man,” describes how, while the prisoner was being tried for his life, he thought neither of his crime nor of his approaching condemnation, but regarded, with much interest, the movements to and fro of a little flower that was upon the window-sill of a window in the court, and was played with by a gentle breeze.

So it was with Athlah. The issue of a great battle depended somewhat upon his sagacity and his courage, but his mind dwelt only upon the words of Realmah about the Ainah. “So then,” he said to himself, “it was that common-looking girl” (to such a man as Athlah she would naturally appear but common-looking) “who was his only love; and the beautiful Talora is as a painted picture to him!”

And the chiefs that stood around said to one another, “There is not the slightest inequality of ground of which the great Athlah will not make some use in the battle of to-morrow.”

And Athlah removed his spear, and walked on moodily to his watch-fire, where he lay down to sleep with his guards around him.

* * * * *

The battle did take place on the morrow. The King surveyed it from a slight eminence on which he was placed. Calmly he saw his chosen legions fall before the disciplined valour of the enemy. Those who were near him might have seen some tears course down his suffering countenance. But he said nothing--not a word. And when the victory was evidently gained by the men of the North, and when further resistance was manifestly hopeless, he allowed himself to be conveyed back to Abibah.

He had previously sent twenty of his body-guard, on whom he could thoroughly rely, to mingle with Athlah’s body-guard, and, by force if needful, to convey that general (giving it out as an order from the King) to the plain behind the wood, where, as before said, the Ramassa curves westward towards the ruined mountain, Bidolo-Vamah, and where Realmah had listened to his Ainah’s song when she sang--

“My love, he loves many; Though I love but one.”