Here was a place of wonders, such as had its like nowhere in the world. All around the hall, supporting the ring of masonry on which the dome rested, were magnificent pillars of marble. The circle of the pavement which was enclosed by the pillars, and which was nearly a hundred feet across, was bare, except at its center. There an oblong slab of black basalt lay from west to east across the gleaming white floor. That block was the height of a man's waist from the pavement, some six feet across, and at least ten yards in length.
On one end of the slab, that which pointed west, stood a solid column of orichalcum, more than a yard in diameter and fifteen feet tall, its whole substance glowing in the half-light like a pillar of lambent flame. From base to top the surface of this marvelous plinth was carved with Maeronican characters and mystic signs. It was the ancient Column of Laws, whereon was written the prophecy of the future dominion of Adlaz over all the world.
Over across from the fiery pillar, at the other extremity of the slab, was a vase, cut out of solid rock-crystal, as tall as a man, but slenderly fashioned, and as fragile in structure as thin-blown glass.
This basalt block, with its gleaming column and crystal vase, was the altar of Shamar.
Though the light was dim in the hall below, high in the arch of the dome was a dazzling play of light and colors. Through prismatic windows the rays of the sun poured and were translated into all of the changing hues of the spectrum, and as the prisms were turned by a concealed mechanism operated from below, the multiplying and shifting color-shafts, reflected back from the marble walls, combined into a bewildering and fairy display.
Seated in a stone chair at the foot of one of the pillars in the northern arc of the circle was Bel-Ar. He was in full armor of black steel. His pallid face made a ghastly patch in the dusk. Except for the large, glowing eyes, it might have been taken for the face of a dead man. Back of the king, filling in the spaces between the pillars with silent rows of bronze, were the five companies of the palace-guard.
Immediately upon the arrival of the girl the ceremonies were opened. Followed by a train of his priests, chanting a deep-voiced hymn of praise, the arch-priest of Shamar, the aged Rhaen, entered the hall through the western portals. Thrice the procession of singing, white-robed attendants of the god passed around the circle within the pillars. Then they massed themselves in the space to the south of the altar. Rhaen retired, to come forth again, clad in a surplice of pale blue, and with a tall cap of the same color atop of his white locks. As he passed Rose, she fancied that she saw a frightened look in his keen old hawk's eyes.
Four men brought in the head of one of the sacred bulls, freshly slain in the courtyard.
This gory trophy was laid on the altar, a few feet from the crystal vase.