Omar Khayyam - a life Read Free Page B

"Where wert thou?"
    "Looking about. Oh, there is life upon this road." Omar smiled, because the highroad and above all the desert road always stirred him, who was desert born, with the blood of Arab wanderers in him. "Yonder is a great camp, and in the camp a tent as large as the Nisapur kala't . And the place full of Turks in armor with gold upon their helmets. I understand their talk a little. Some prince halted there the night. I saw him."
    Rahim sighed. Whatever Omar did, he did with all his intensity, plunging into things, getting messed up in them. Warfare was something new to the son of Ibrahim, and he went out of his way to look at strange horsemen, to ask questions at the halting places and even to examine the baggage bales offloaded from the camels. Omar found adventure in crossing a river, whereas he, Rahim, merely got wet. "Who?" he asked.
    "I did not hear. The lord was sitting on a red cloth by the fire in the tent, talking with some doctors of the law, his tutors. He is two years younger than thou, and he wears a white ermine kaftan. The doctors told him that a certain star he had seen was Suhail, but I knew it was not. No man can see Suhail from this spot at this hour——"
    "I know," Rahim lied hastily. "Isn't there a proverb——"
    'That the sight of Suhail is fortunate—yes."
    "Thou hast dared to speak before the Turks? But how?"
    "In Arabic," explained Omar, amused. "The boy tarkhan went from the tent with me, to be shown the constellations. Those doctors were fools, mouthing folly——"
    "Nay, scatterbrain, thou wert a greater fool to gainsay them. Wilt never learn not to deny the word of one who can set his slipper on thy lips?" Rahim was half-provoked, half-fearful. "What said the prince?"
    "He asked if the stars held any portent for the war."
    "Ah, and do they?"
    The young student was silent, tracing signs absently with a dagger sheath in the dried mud. "If we knew, Rahim," he responded quietly, "we would be wiser than the Magi. If we could read human fate! And still——I showed the boy where the planets stood in their houses——"
    "Thou hast no need to show me," cried his foster-brother impatiently. "How stands the omen?"
    Omar shook his head. "Harken to Zarathustra! Two kings are going into battle and the heavens declare that the destiny of the king in the east is rising, and that of the monarch of the west is falling. But—listen to the prophecy—the portent of death hangs over both of them." Suddenly he laughed. "It's nonsense, to say that. But the lion cub stared as if he had seen a ghost."
    "The lion cub!" Rahim's eyes opened wide. "What——"
    "The prince, the one with the white coat. At least they called him that."
    "My fathers beard!" Rahim sighed. "Hast thou never heard of the Lion Cub?"
    "Nay."
    "May Allah the Compassionate befriend thee. There is but one! He is the eldest son of our Sultan, of Alp Arslan, the Valiant Lion. Thou hast prophesied victory to the prince-royal."
    "I did not know him."
    "Would any one believe? And more, thou hast foretold the death of his father, which"—Rahim's agile mind delved into possibilities—"no soothsayer in his senses would do, in public, anyway. Still, it means the throne to the Lion Cub. What said he?"
    "He asked my name, and I told him. He asked whom I served, and I said no one, being a student of the Nisapur madrasse ."
    "Hmm. Well, if I know these Turks our masters, and if Alp Arslan dies, thou mayest go to this same Lion's Cub and claim the post of astrologer to the King. Then appoint me thy carpet spreader, at a rich salary."
    Omar shook his head.
    "I think," Rahim insisted, "the making of a fine soothsayer is in thee, scatterbrain. Everyone believes thee. Oh, Yarmak——" He kicked at one of his sleeping servants. "Yarmak, fetch me the jar in the leather case. A goblet."
    It was wine that Yarmak poured out into the cup that Rahim held. Forbidden wine. Rahim, who craved it, whispered that such a small sin would not count against the