Oracle and the voice of Heaven. In matters temporal, the Khan of Kaloon.
The Khan. Ah! you are married, lady, are you not?
Aye,
she answered, her face flushing. And I will tell you what you soon must learn, if you have not learned it already, I am the wife of a madman, and he is—hateful to me.
I have learned the last already, Khania.
She looked at me with her piercing eyes.
What! Did my uncle, the Shaman, he who is called Guardian, tell you? Nay, you saw, as I knew you saw, and it would have been best to slay you for, oh! what must you think of me?
I made no answer, for in truth I did not know what to think, also I feared lest further rash admissions should be followed by swift vengeance.
You must believe,
she went on, that I, who have ever hated men, that I—I swear that it is true—whose lips are purer than those mountain snows, I, the Khania of Kaloon, whom they name Heart-of-Ice, am but a shameless thing.
And, covering her face with her hand, she moaned in the bitterness of her distress.
Nay,
I said, there may be reasons, explanations, if it pleases you to give them.
Wanderer, there are such reasons; and since you know so much, you shall learn them also. Like that husband of mine, I have become mad. When first I saw the face of your companion, as I dragged him from the river, madness entered me, and I—I—
Loved him,
I suggested. Well, such things have happened before to people who were not mad.
Oh!
she went on, it was more than love; I was possessed, and that night I knew not what I did. A Power drove me on; a Destiny compelled me, and to the end I am his, and his alone. Yes, I am his, and I swear that he shall be mine;
and with this wild declaration.
