Once more he was bending to the oar, when, as it were out of his own heart, came a voice whispering his name, "Sarchedon! Sarchedon!" in low sweet tones, which yet he knew vibrated with the sentence of his doom.

An unseen power raised him to his feet, and would have lifted him to sh.o.r.e, but that the priest held him back by his coa.r.s.e fisher's garment, which dragged on chest and throat till he was fairly choked. Then, in extremity of fear and agony, he found his voice to call on a.s.sarac for help at the moment when his vesture, yielding to the strain laid on it, parted asunder to let the cold night air in on his naked breast.

So he awoke, scared, trembling, panting for breath, and even in his waking seemed still wrapped in the gloom of that Isle of Shadows--seemed still to catch the tread of m.u.f.fled footsteps, the breath of airy whispers, faint echoes from another world.

In that age, and amongst a people ever striving after a mystic ideal, yearning for communion with a higher world, dreams, and the interpretations thereof, were held of no small account.

Sarchedon, warrior though he was, and, like his great chief, little imbued with the superst.i.tions of his time and country, could not yet pa.s.s over such a scene as his imagination had even now pictured without much cogitation and concern. He sat up and considered it in no small perplexity, inclining to regard the vision now as an omen of fortune, anon as a warning of fate. In his suffocating struggles to wake, his hands had been pressed close against his breast; a few moments elapsed ere he became conscious that he held in them a jewel he had never seen before. Rising from his couch at the foot of the tower, he hastened to examine it by starlight under the open sky. It consisted of an emerald, on which was cut the figure of a dove with outspread wings, following, as it seemed, the course of an arrow flying upward through the air. That it had come to him by supernatural influences during his sleep, he never doubted, and interpreted it, as men always do interpret the inexplicable, in the manner most agreeable to his own wishes. This dove, he said to himself, must mean the girl he had so lately seen at the Well of Palms; for what could be more dove-like than the maiden sweetness and innocent bearing of Ishtar? The arrow doubtless signified, in its upward flight, his own future career. He would become ill.u.s.trious as a warrior, and Ishtar would follow him in his brilliant course to fame. Was it an arrow, or the initial of a name? He was forced to confess, from its shape and direction, that it seemed intended to represent the weapon itself, and not the letter of which he would fain consider it a symbol.

Nevertheless, it must be a sign that the G.o.ds intended him for great things, and it should be no fault of his if the only woman who had yet touched his heart did not share with him the good fortune thus promised by the stars.

Meantime it wanted many hours of dawn; so he returned to his cushions and mantle for the remainder of his night's rest, stopping by the table at which he had sat with a.s.sarac in the evening for a pull at the golden flagon, not yet emptied of its good Damascus wine.

Nevertheless, long before sunrise, he awoke refreshed, invigorated, happy; feeling the amulet resting on his breast, he accepted its presence for a fortunate omen; and ere daylight paled the beacon-fire on the tower of Belus, was galloping Merodach through the desert on his way to the Well of Palms.

"Surely," thought this dreamer, "she will be watching there for the first glitter of spears that shall give token of her father's return?

Then will I tell her when to expect the host, and how to distinguish between its vanguard and the spearmen of its strength, having Arbaces at their head, who march with the chariot of the Great King. She will give me to drink, and I will say unto her, Maiden, as this draught of water to one athirst and stifled with the desert sand, so is a whisper from the lips and a glance from the eyes of the fairest damsel in all the land of Shinar to him who has ridden from the great city only to look on her face ere he departs to see her no more. Then she cannot but lift her veil, and speak kindly to me, bidding me tarry but a few moments, while she draws water for my horse. So will I tell her the whole tale; and hereafter, when my lord the king has rewarded his warriors for service done with bow and spear, I will take to Arbaces a score of camels, a hundred sheep, and a talent of gold, together with the armour I won of that swarthy giant beyond the sweet river; and how shall he say me nay?

So will I lead her home to my tent, and then shall I have attained full happiness, and need ask for nothing more on earth."

Thus it fell out that Kalmim, arriving in the temple of Baal soon after daybreak, missed both the object of her real and her fict.i.tious search.

The queen after a heated restless night, bade her chief tiring-woman seek in that edifice for an amulet, which Semiramis affirmed she could only have dropped at the foot of the tower of Belus, where some one, she added, was sleeping, who must be brought to her and interrogated forthwith. Kalmim's experience, in her own person and that of her mistress, led her at once to guess the truth; therefore she hurried off to apprise Sarchedon he was wanted without delay in the royal palace. On her arrival, it might be said that she found the nest still warm, though the bird had flown; for a priest was carrying away the cloak and cushions that had formed the young man's couch, and his dark eyes glittered with a roguish smile while he peered into the flagon of Damascus, to find little left in it but dregs.

"These warriors seem to know the use of good wine when they can get it,"

said he, "and I doubt not it sings and mantles under helm of steel no less than linen tiara or fillet of gold; but they clasp bow and spear through many a long night for one that they spend with goblet of Ophir in hand. Men sleep little in the camp too, and feed sparingly, they tell me, nor day after day must they be cheered by the sight of a woman's veil or the sound of a woman's voice. To say nothing of a fierce enemy and a place in the fore-front of the battle between two hosts in array, where it is scarcely more dangerous to fight than to fly. Truly it is better to be a servant of Baal than of the Great King."

"It is better to be a boar in the marshes than a lion in the mountain!"

retorted Kalmim with high disdain; "a vulture battening on a dead camel than an eagle striking the wild goat from its rock! Conquering or conquered, up or down, a warrior is at least a _man_, and a match for men!"

"While a priest is a match for women," answered the other, laughing. "Is that what you would say? Nevertheless, Kalmim, it must be a priest who will serve your turn this morning, for there are here a thousand in the temple, and never a hand among us to draw bowstring or close round the shaft of a spear."

"There was a warrior in the porch even now," replied Kalmim; "a goodly young warrior with dark flowing locks, and a chin nearly as smooth, Beladon, as your own. What have you done with him? He bore hither the Great King's signet, and if he has come by harm, not all the G.o.ds of all your temples will shield you from the fair face that never looked on man in anger but he was consumed."

Beladon, a handsome young priest, with bright roguish eyes and swarthy complexion, turned pale while she spoke--pale even through the rich crimson of his cheek and the blue tint of lips and chin, where his beard was close-shaven, and rubbed down with pumice-stone in imitation of a.s.sarac's smooth unmanly face.

"The youth lay here scarce an hour ago," said he, trembling. "He mounted the n.o.blest steed that ever wore a bridle--a white horse, with eyes of fire--and rode off through the Great Brazen Gate into the desert like an arrow from a bow. Surely he will return."

Kalmim burst out laughing at his discomposure.

"Surely he will return!" she repeated; "and when he does return, surely you will bring him to me by the path through the great paradise without delay. Semiramis hath been dealing justice amongst the people since sunrise, but she will pa.s.s the heat of the day as usual in the fishing temple, and you will find me in its porch. You do not fear to present yourself before Dagon? His worship requires no sacrifice of sheep nor oxen, no blood of priests to flow from the gashes they cut in their naked flesh, before his altar."

She spoke in a jesting tone ill befitting the solemnity of the subject, and he answered in the same vein.

"The sheep and oxen we offer are consumed without doubt by Baal himself, while his servants live miraculously on the light of his countenance and the fragments that he leaves! Touching our self-inflicted wounds, notwithstanding all the blood spilt before the people, we scarcely feel the pain; and this too cannot but be by a miracle of the G.o.d. I make no secret with you of our mysteries. Tell me, in return, what mean these warlike preparations that have set the whole city astir to-day?"

Her tone was still of banter and sarcasm.

"Would you wish the Great King to be received," said she, "with no more ceremony than a shepherd bringing a stray lamb in from the wilderness on his shoulders? When he returns a conqueror, shall not the triumph be worthy of the victory?"

"But if every man who can bear arms is to stand forth in array with bow and spear; if the women and children, on pain of death, are not to come down into the streets; if the priests of Baal and the prophets of the grove are to be marshalled like warriors, with knives unsheathed and sacrificing weapons in hand, our welcome will seem to Ninus more like the a.s.sault of a fenced city than the return of my lord the king to his home!"

"So be it," answered Kalmim. "It is not the flash of a blade or the gleam of a spear that will frighten the old king. By the serpent of Ashtaroth, he fears neither man nor demon; and when his queen raised a temple in Bactria to Abitur of the Mountains, he profaned his altar and defied the Chief of the Devils in sight of our whole army. It angered her, and she hath not forgotten it. Why, men say, he believes no more in Baal than--than you do yourselves!"

He looked about him in alarm.

"Hush!" said he. "It is not for me to judge between my G.o.ds and my lord the king. The divining cup of a.s.sarac has not failed to tell him that Ninus shall one day take his place with the Thirteen G.o.ds. It may be that he knows the golden throne is waiting for him even now."

He scrutinised her face narrowly, but saw on it only a light and careless smile.

"Were I the queen, I'd have a younger one next time," was her reply. "Of _your_ years, say you? No, thank you, Beladon--not for me. Well, you may come with me to the Jaspar Gate and as far as the outer court; I dare not pa.s.s alone through all those oxen, lowing, poor things, as if they knew not one of them would be left alive to-day at noon."

CHAPTER VII

THE KING OF NATIONS

Leaning on his spear within a day's march of the Great City, the tall figure of a warrior loomed ma.s.sive and indistinct in the early light of morning breaking on the a.s.syrian camp. Line by line, shade by shade, as dawn stole slowly upward, his form came out in bolder relief. Presently a dark blurred ma.s.s, some few paces off, took the shape of a sleeping camel; soon shadowy tents, dusky banners, spoil, arms, accoutrements, all the enc.u.mbrances of an army on the march, grew into their real outline, filled with their respective colours; and the man's features, under his steel headpiece, became plainly visible in the light of day.

He was arrayed in the utmost splendour of armour and apparel. The former, inlaid throughout with gold, shone bright and polished like a mirror, though the goodly silks and heavy embroidery that formed the latter were sadly rent and frayed by the press of many a hot encounter, the wear and tear of many a weary march. He wore in his girdle a short straight sword with jewelled hilt and ornamented scabbard, carried a bow and quiver of arrows at his back, and a shield studded with precious stones on his arm. From his shoulders hung an ample mantle of crimson silk, bordered with deep fringes of gold; while the head of the spear, or rather javelin, on which he rested, though broad, sharp, and heavy, was plated and ornamented with the same costly metal.

In such an arm it seemed no doubt a formidable weapon; for the man's square frame and weighty limbs denoted great personal strength; while his marked features wore an expression of habitual fierceness, in accordance with a swarthy complexion, thick black brows, and ample curling beard.

He was buried in thought of no pleasing nature, to judge by the working of his lips and the scowling glances he directed towards a tent standing apart, of which two upright spears tufted with ostrich-plumes marked, and seemed to guard, the entrance.

As morning brightened, the whole camp came into view from the mound where he kept guard, and whereon the Great King's tent was pitched--a camp of many sleeping thousands, ranged in warlike order under a hundred banners drooping heavily in the still clear air.

Suddenly the warrior started from his listless att.i.tude into life and action; for a light step was approaching, and a figure advanced to the tufted spears that denoted the abode of royalty.

"Stand!" he exclaimed in threatening accents, advancing his shield and raising the javelin to strike. "Nay, pa.s.s, Sethos," he added with a scornful laugh. "I have no orders to stop the king's cup-bearer; but you are on foot betimes this morning, though you wot well the old lion stirs not before break of day."

Sethos patted the wine-skin under his arm--a homely vessel enough, though its contents were to be poured into a jewelled cup.

"The old lion laps ever at sunrise," said he; "and the hunter who brings him to drink need not fear to enter his lair."

"Fear!" repeated the other with an accent of contempt. "He who deals with lions must forget the meaning of the word. 'Tis thus, man, they are trapped and tamed."

"Of a truth," answered Sethos, "I once believed that in all the hosts of a.s.syria or of Egypt was to be found no frown so dark as gathers on the brows of the Great King when he is angered. By the beard of Ashur, Sargon, I have seen a fiercer look of late on the face of one who used to be ready with smile and wine-cup as with bow and spear; and it comes from under the helmet, my friend, that keeps _your_ head."

"Have I not cause?" muttered the other, speaking below his breath in the quick concentrated accents of intense feeling. "When the host marches into Babylon, and the women come out with song and timbrel to welcome the conquerors; when each man makes his boast, showing his treasure, his spoil, and the captives of his bow and spear; when my lord the king rewards his servants, giving gifts--to this a dress of honour, to that a beautiful slave, to another a talent of gold and spoil of household stuff--what shall be done for Sargon, the king's shield-bearer, returning childless and bereaved by the king's own hand? Boy, it is well I hold not your place. I might be tempted to mix that in the cup which should cause Ninus to pour out his next drink-offering amongst a host of heaven in whom he professes to have no belief."

"Dangerous words," answered Sethos, "and empty as they are rash. Why, man, you yourself cover him in battle with his shield. It is but lowering your arm a cubit, and the king's life is in your hand."

"I could not do it," said Sargon, drawing himself proudly up. "It shall never be said that the great a.s.syrian fell to point of Egyptian arrow, or gash of Bactrian steel. Nay; though the fire on Sargon's hearth may be quenched, his name extinct, let Ninus fulfil his destiny, and sit amongst the G.o.ds like his forefathers. It may be they are waiting for him even now. Listen, Sethos; he calls from his tent. Hie thee into the lion's den, and pour him out such a morning's draught as shall keep him fasting from blood at least till noon."

Sethos--a handsome light-hearted youth, who as the king's cup-bearer enjoyed many privileges and immunities, of which he availed himself to the utmost--pa.s.sed swiftly between the tufted spears, and with a low prostration raised its curtain, to enter the tent of the oldest and mightiest warrior in the world.

Ninus, half risen from his couch, ruder and simpler than that of any captain in his host, stretched his long gaunt arm with impatience for the wine he so craved, to replenish the exhausted energies and wasting powers of extreme old age. The Great King's face was pale and sunken; his eyes, deep in their sockets, were dull and dim; while his thin scattered locks, s.h.a.ggy brows, and long flowing beard had turned white as snow. Nevertheless, the wreck of that mighty frame, like some h.o.a.ry fortress crumbling and tottering into ruin, still showed the remnant of such grand proportions, such fabulous strength as was allotted to the men of olden time, when earth was new and nature inexhaustible. Yet was it whispered through the host, that as their fiercest champion would have seemed a mere child by the side of their king in his prime, so was Ninus but as a babe compared with great Nimrod, his ancestor, the G.o.d of their idolatry, and mighty founder of their race.