THE TRIUMPH OF AK-ALAN
The of Hoormoori were excited, for the time had come when their Princess, the Ipso-Rorka of all Keemar, was to wed. Every place was full, the were with visitors, for people had come from all parts of Jupiter to the long and that the wedding. Parties came from the of Xzor, from the of Paila, from the of the Isles of Kalœ. Every house in Hoormoori was full; every public guest house had used every available space for their overflowing guests. The were decorated; the trees were with lights, and across the wide were hung. There were of flowers and everywhere. Every window was with rugs; the whole was and brilliant.
The of was the of Alan into the of the Rorka’s family. In a Alan at the of the Rorka’s in the great white Throne Room in the palace. The whole was with guests, and by the Rorka’s sat the Princess. She had on her a grave, sweet smile, and in her of and gold she a figure.
A the Rorka a of with diamonds. This was on Alan’s by the Rorka himself, who said—“Oh Alan, hence by the Royal of Ak—I thee. Thou taken 308the of to me, your Rorka. Thy and love offered me. I thee, Oh Ak-Alan,” and he took him by hands, and him on either cheek, and him to the step of the throne. Then Alan the people.
“Behold him,” said the Rorka. “Ak-Alan, a of the House of Pluthoz. Acclaim him as your own, for he is a Prince of the House of your Rorka.”
How the people cheered! With one they and to the of the throne, and out their hands to their newly prince. Alan was with his reception, and had an word to say to nearly every one who came near him. The of his for Chlorie had been told; Kulmervan’s was known; and every one the royally. But this was only the beginning. Ak-Alan had to a Djoh of the Outer Shelter, and to the of his office. The Golden Circle of Unity of Keemar was on his finger—The Star of Joy—The Order of Hope—all these took their time. But they were all and interesting.
Many times had he looked upon Chlorie, but had an opportunity been to him to speak with her alone. But at his gaze, the colour would her cheeks, and her would in sweet embarrassment.
Waz-Y-Kjesta had been to the Royal Household of Ak-Alan, and was to have the opportunity to by the of the friend he had made. Persoph the Jkak, and Mirasu the Jkakalata had sent presents to Alan and Chlorie, and had their when Desmond had his of settling in Hoormoori.
“We want to be near Alan,” Sir John.
“We shall miss you of course. We are for your to us all since we so in your land. But we should miss the of our kinsman, we must near him.”
“We understand,” said Persoph. “But visit us, 309my friends, and allow us to visit you. Your is dear to us—your we prize.”
Several orders had been offered Sir John, but he to his throughout. “My father it,” he explained. “I him by using it. Please allow me to keep it,” and the Rorka gave his permission. During all this time Masters had left Sir John’s side. A friend, a servant, he always at hand in case the old man needed him. And when Alan had been Ak of the House of Pluthoz, Masters the of his life. Suddenly the out, “And I Masters of the of Sir John to at the of the Rorka’s throne.”
Masters white, and looked at Sir John.
“Go forward, my friend,” said Sir John, and Masters him.
The Rorka rose, and touched him with the Silver Staff of Office of a Waz. “I promote henceforward, Waz, to the house of Sir John. Waz-Masters be, with all that thereto. Accept this staff, Waz-Masters, for art a friend.”
Masters was unable to his gratitude, the was so that it him speechless; but a moments later Alan as he saw him talking with Zyllia, a of Y-Kjesta’s. And as Alan the that at Masters, the and the colour that came and in the of the Keemarnian, he foresaw, and truly, that soon Masters would the role of bachelor; and another love match would be in Keemar—the land of all good.
Then came the and banquets; a and through the of Hoormoori. Bhors decorated, bands, dancing children like nymphs, fair-headed, with pipes like the pipes of Pan, fairies, ladies in attire, all took part in this procession.
310And Alan sat on a in the Royal Palace and it. But the time his were on the of his of the morrow. Occasionally, under of the and the darkness, his hand would out, and for a moment hers in the darkness. But no had he of speaking with her alone, and her him with longings. He to be alone with her, away in the and fields, along the seashore, just they two together, with nature in all her glory.
“May I not speak to Chlorie a moment alone?” he earnestly.
The Rorka smiled. “In your world, perhaps, it would be allowed. But I cannot it. To-day she to me—to the people. To-morrow she will be yours for ever. It is custom, my son. But to-morrow—” he stopped, and looked at Alan. “I have been to your—‘honeymoon’. It is a idea to us of Keemar, but a one, and will, I think, prove popular with my countrymen. To-morrow you take her away—alone. No duenna’s will you. The House of Roses in the Wyio Forest is at your disposal. It is ready—prepared. I have way on many points, my son, but on this one I am firm. You cannot speak alone to Chlorie to-night. Now I wish to speak to Sir John.” Alan his and moved away, so that his uncle take his place. He was away from his love, but sat in the and in her as the light on her profile.
“Sir John,” said the Rorka, “I have much about your that you safely to our world. Would you be prepared to another as like it as possible? I will place men, material and means at your disposal. You need want for nothing, and I should it a personal if you would at least my proposal.”
Sir John’s shone. “O Rorka, you have put new life into me by your suggestion. I I was old—but my is still young. To be of 311use in your world will make my last years happy; to I am not my time will my life. Masters and I were another Argenta on paper only to-day. He has been the metal you use, and he says it is and than our aluminium. My whole time is at your disposal, and Masters’ as well.”
“Speak for yourself, Sir John,” the Rorka. “But unless I am much mistaken, Zyllia will have more to say about Waz-Masters’ than you have of.”
“Zyllia?” Sir John looking puzzled.
“Look you,” said the Rorka. In the room were two figures—Masters and a woman. The woman was beautiful. Darker than most Keemarnian women, with black and eyes.
“So he has a mate,” said Sir John softly. “I of Masters and marriage. He too mature. In our world he would have been called ‘middle-aged’ He has and three summers.”
“But Zyllia is mature,” said the Rorka. “She looks a girl, but although her is young, she and Masters are not in years.”
“You will not object to the match?”
“Nay. I have a great opinion of Waz-Masters, but I like not his name.” He touched a bell. “Waz-Masters and the Lady Zyllia. I them here at once.” The girl bowed, and in a moment the two were him. “My friend,” said the Rorka kindly, “I like not your name. Waz-Masters and harsh. In our language we have a word that means ‘Master’ Henceforward shall you be by that. Waz-Aemo, for now and ever.” Masters silent. He was embarrassed and what to do. “So you are going to with Zyllia?” said the Rorka. Zyllia on one knee, her hands in supplication. “Oh Rorka, most noble. Have I permission? Him have I promised to wed, if I have permission. For I love this dearly.”
312“My was long ago. I have your play with pleasure, my child. Tell Waz-Y-Kjesta he can give you the use of an air bird for your—your honeymoon.”
“Oh how can I thank you—”
“That is enough. See, the has resumed—how are the flowers—the silks—” and taking these as their dismissal, they on one knee, and then passed from the to the room beyond.
The last vehicle had passed, the last of music had died away, night fell. But one more to the time of rejoicing—the wedding on the morrow.
Alan early on the of his wedding day. His personal had all his wedding for him, and he the and from his the cloak. It was with gold, and up at one with a buckle. His of gold was on his head, and as he looked at himself in the long he saw the away, in their place a and shabby, but very jacket. The was a over his shoulder—golf clubs. Alan sighed. It was a very long time since he had up, and with a drive a little white sent along at a pace. He see the to the approach of his green; the green itself, and velvety, in a little below. Well, he would his game of on Jupiter. He would plan a course, have made, and he and Chlorie would—No, he didn’t up the old and of the earth. He nothing. He wouldn’t have his if it had been in his power to do so. Life nothing for him but Chlorie. Life and love were him, and he for and happy in the new world.
His golden, sandal-like were on. The ring for Chlorie was in his purse. The Crown of Wifehood with which he would presently her 313was in Y-Kjesta’s possession. The Waz also had taken of the gifts, which according to the of the Temple he must present to his wife. The coins, to that he her with his wealth. The in two—to that she would in everything. The fresh cut flowers, a symbol of the they would in each other, and the of fruits that were to be on the Altar and offered as a to Mitzor the Mighty. As they were to ashes, the High Priest would them to the four of heaven, and the pair would to love each other until such time as the fruits their freshness. A way of their each to the other.
Waz-Y-Kjesta entered. He was at the of the part he was to play in the day’s ceremony. “The time has come, my Alan. Your you.”
“I am ready,” Alan at the Waz. “I don’t know how I should on without you to-day.” The were with people. Alan sat alone in the State Bhor which slowly the streets, and in of the bridegroom’s Y-Kjesta, on a white coli.
Sixteen Keemarnians, by the Rorka for his personal staff, him. Sir John and Desmond were already in the Temple. A spread from the door to the street, and the whole way was with flowers. Slowly Alan walked up the and took his place at the rails. The organ was playing softly. Suddenly it out into the Ipso-Rorka’s personal air—The Bride had arrived. On the arm of the Rorka she walked up the long aisle. Her of out the colour of her eyes. Upon her was a thin of gold, and her long train was by little John Alan! At the rails they stopped, and the High Priest demanded—“Who permission, that this woman shall her home and her people, and live in peace with the of her choice?”
314“I do,” said the Rorka.
“You are that and will be the woman’s lot?”
“I am.”
“Thanks be to Mitzor. I am content.” Thereupon the Rorka took his seat upon his throne, and the commenced.
Mavis, who had the procession, now took her place on Chlorie’s left, to the bride. It was a ceremony, and the incense, the priest’s vestments, the music, all helped to make it and impressive. The gifts were offered—Chlorie them—the moment was almost at hand that would make them one. Alan was after the priest—
“May this ring, with which I finger, be a proof of the of our affection. May the with which I thee, prove that I as my loved one, and as Queen of my House.”
And Chlorie answered softly, “I accept this ring, and from my it shall slip. I accept the that me, and in return I pray Mitzor the Mighty, that I may my and well.”
Then came the of love and fidelity; each the with hands clasped.
“Before Mitzor the Mighty, the Great White Glory, I promise to let come my and me. I promise to love him (her) and him (her), his (her) troubles, and away his (her) griefs. Lastly, I ask Mitzor, the Tower of Strength, to us with the of our union.”
Then, kneeling, the High Priest them.
“May Mitzor, the Great White Glory, you both, and keep you in the paths of righteousness. May he make thee, Oh Ak-Alan, a husband; and thee, Chlorie, a wife. Thy are made—kneel and pray while the are lighted, and the of is to the winds.”
Hand in hand the newly married pair knelt. Into a the of fruits was placed—the 315doors closed upon it. A second passed, and by the of there was nothing left but a little dust.
Slowly the and the walked the aisle, the pair following. With prayers and the was scattered, and out of by the breeze. The was over—a of was sung, and Alan and Chlorie were to their that was waiting.
They together in the open bhor, and Chlorie not speak—her was too full of emotion. The excitement, the cheering, the her—and yet there was still the to through.
Not a word had she spoken to her newly husband, but as they he whispered—“You don’t regret, my darling?”
She gave him a quick, glance, but it satisfied him. They had to wait for the of the friends and guests, but at last Mavis whispered, “Come, dear, it is time for you to into your other frock.” Quietly the left the and into her other gown. Tenderly she her father good-bye.
“Good-bye, my little one,” he murmured, “Mitzor take of you. In Kymos I shall come for you. Be happy in your new life.”
“Good-bye, my father.”
“Good-bye.”
“You will in at the House of Roses,” said Waz-Y-Kjesta.
There were cheers, the played—and the off, the in all Keemar.
“My darling,” Alan, when they were at last the town, and through country roads. “Are you sure you won’t this day?”
“Never, my Alan,” she replied, her as she close to her husband—“but Alan, I think I am a little all the same.”
For answer he her in his arms, and on her lips—and it her. She was content.
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