Ch. 6: The Amir's Homily - Page 2

city of Kabul.
A light table stood before him, and round the table in the open air were
grouped generals and finance ministers according to their degree. The
Court and the long tail of feudal chiefs--men of blood, fed and cowed by
blood--stood in an irregular semicircle round the table, and the wind
from the Kabul orchards blew among them. All day long sweating couriers
dashed in with letters from the outlying districts with rumours of
rebellion, intrigue, famine, failure of payments, or announcements of
treasure on the road; and all day long the Amir would read the dockets,
and pass such of these as were less private to the officials whom they
directly concerned, or call up a waiting chief for a word of
explanation. It is well to speak clearly to the ruler of Afghanistan.
Then the grim head, under the black astrachan cap with the diamond star
in front, would nod gravely, and that chief would return to his fellows.
Once that afternoon a woman clamoured for divorce against her husband,
who was bald, and the Amir, hearing both sides of the case, bade her
pour curds over the bare scalp, and lick them off, that the hair might
grown again, and she be contented. Here the Court laughed, and the woman
withdrew, cursing her king under her breath.

But when twilight was falling, and the order of the Court was a little
relaxed, there came before the king, in custody, a trembling haggard
wretch, sore with much buffeting, but of stout enough build, who had
stolen three rupees--of such small matters does His Highness take
cognisance.

'Why did you steal?' said he; and when the king asks questions they do
themselves service who answer directly.

'I was poor, and no one gave. Hungry, and there was no food.'

'Why did you not work?'

'I could find no work, Protector of the Poor, and I was starving.'

'You lie. You stole for drink, for lust, for idleness, for anything but
hunger, since any man who will may find work and daily bread.'

The prisoner dropped his eyes. He had attended the Court before, and he
knew the ring of the death-tone.

'Any man may get work. Who knows this so well as I do? for I too have
been hungered--not like you, bastard scum, but as any honest man may be,
by the turn of Fate and the will of God.'

Growing warm, the Amir turned to his nobles all arow and thrust the hilt
of his sabre aside with his elbow.

'You have heard this Son of Lies? Hear me tell a true tale. I also was
once starved, and tightened my belt on the sharp belly-pinch. Nor was I
alone, for with me was another, who did not fail me in my evil days,
when I was hunted, before ever I came to this throne. And wandering like
a houseless dog by Kandahar, my money melted, melted, melted till--' He