"Lift ye this man from the nails upon the wall; restore his breath with water from the cisterns, and his strength with wine. Bring garments wherewith to warm his flesh, and a salve to heal his wounds. Guard ever this doorway, bearing food and drink, for I charge ye that his body must not die, but live."
So the King came up from under the under-chambers of the citadel and caused a thousand torches to be set aflame; yet, even in the glare of burning pitch, a shadow seemed to haunt him, with a low-hung muzzle snuffling at his heels.
* * * * *
From the city gates went twenty thousand warriors, and in the van a spy whose name was Akki-Bul, a man who knew the hills of Hindu-Kush and would lead an army hence. Why, he fathomed not, yet wore the armor of a chieftain and his sword, a chieftain's nether garments, while about his neck, from a leathern thong, hung a charm of carven malachite. So, pondering upon the strangeness of these things, proud Akki-Bul went forth to spy the way, ten spear lengths in advance of those who followed after him.
Through the opening in her tent Semiramis watched an army steal across the plain and disappear into a valley's dip; then she slept, to dream of her home in Ascalon, of Dagon's lake, of the creatures that swim therein, and of Menon—with a little green fish of malachite that nestled against his heart.
In a chamber beneath the citadel lay a sorely stricken man. In fever and pain he lay, and cried aloud to the far, unlistening gods. With tortured hands he groped on a darkened road and found no staff wherewith to feel his way. His book of light was closed; the water from his cup had spilled, and the glory of the world was gray.
* * * * *
The morning mists came writhing from their valley-beds, and the Hindu-Koh loomed red through an opal haze. A drowsing desert shrank from the heat to come, and the world awoke and yawned.
Now those who watched from the city wall, looked westward and were amazed, for down the hill-slopes came a swarm of warriors, fleeing as from the unclean boggards of an under-world; and after them ran other men, smiting with sword and shaft, till the shreds of a death-torn army came streaming across the plain. They poured through the city gate, choking it with the inrush of a bawling crew, while many fell panting, in the shadow of the wall; then Ninus, roused by a signal of alarm, drove, raging, into the press. Half clad, he leaned from his rocking chariot, lashing at all who came within his reach, cursing the cowardice of men who brought a shame to Assyria's King.
Semiramis, too, awoke, and at the clamour of retreating men, her blood ran chill and she trembled for her lord. In haste she clothed herself, unmindful of her wounded knee, and limped to the city gates. She yearned to question each passer-by, and dared not, because of a terror clawing at her heart; so the daughter of Derketo crouched in a shadow of the wall, with parching tongue and hunted eyes, waiting, listening for the tidings which would blight the glory of her world.