"Am I then so dangerous to look upon?" said she; "the face of a queen should be gracious to a faithful servant. I say to you, Look and live!"
A thrill of intense triumph and pleasure shot through him with her words. He took courage to scan the form and features of that celebrated woman, whose intellect and beauty had already made her mistress of the mightiest nation in the East.
She was beautiful no doubt, in the nameless beauty that wins, no less than in the lofty beauty that compels. Her form was matchless in symmetry, so that her every gesture, in the saddle or on the throne, was womanly, dignified, and graceful, while each dress she wore, from royal robe and jewelled tiara to steel breastplate and golden headpiece, seemed that in which she looked her best. With a man's strength of body, she possessed more than a man's power of mind and force of will. A shrewd observer would have detected in those bright eyes, despite their thick lashes and loving glance, the genius that can command an army and found an empire; in that delicate, exquisitely chiselled face, the lines that tell of tameless pride and unbending resolution; in the full curves of that rosy mouth, in the clean-cut jaw and prominence of the beautifully-moulded chin, a cold recklessness that could harden on occasion to pitiless cruelty—stern, impracticable, immovable as fate.
But Sarchedon only saw a lovely woman of queenly bearing, glancing approval on his glowing face. His Southern nature seemed to expand like a flower in the sunshine of her smiles.
His looks could not fail to express admiration, and she, who might have been satiated with homage, seemed well pleased to accept as much as he had to offer.
Bending towards him with a gesture of condescension, that was almost a caress, she bade him advance yet nearer to her couch.
"And now," said she, "that you have looked on this terrible face of mine without perdition, tell me your tidings from the camp. What of the war? what of the host? what of my lord the king?"
"The war is ended," he answered briefly; "the host is victorious. My lord the king will return in triumph ere another day be past."
She started, but controlled herself with an effort.
"Enough," she answered haughtily and coldly; "you have done your duty—you are dismissed!"