"There are twenty bands of spearmen massed behind the rampart; priests and prophets are scattered in the market-places and squares of the city; chariots of iron are harnessed in scores, and horsemen by thousands wait but the holding up of my hand to mount. I pray you give the word, and ere the sun goes down, Baal shall exterminate, root and branch, all who question the authority of—of my lord the king."
Looking on the royal personage he addressed, the eunuch's eyes blazed with an admiration that seemed almost too warm for reverence, too passionate for loyalty. At the sound of tumult, the signal-note of conflict, Ninyas started into life with as much fire and energy as Merodach himself. The folds of the tiara fell back, disclosing those matchless features, that radiant face, glowing with just such pleasurable excitement as brightens the aspect of an ardent hunter when he sights the deer. That supple stately form, springing into graceful energy of attitude and gesture, seemed an embodiment of beauty in warlike harness. How could such softness and delicacy be endowed with such resistless might? Surely horse and rider, thought Assarac, formed a pair unequalled the wide world through.
"Keep the men of war back!" exclaimed Ninyas gleefully. "Never take your eye off my right hand. When I raise it thus, let the spears open out by wings, unmask the archers, and bid them bend their bows."
"You will return to the palace!" exclaimed Assarac. "You will not risk that precious life in a city tumult! By the light of Ashtaroth, by the blood of Nisroch, by the safety of the empire, by all you hold most sacred, I entreat you to keep out of danger!"
His voice was broken with real emotion, his features worked convulsively, as if he pleaded for something dearer than life, but a ringing laugh was the only answer to his appeal, and the anxious eunuch could but press on at a gallop to keep near the white horse and its rider, as they made for the great gate of Babylon that looked towards the south.
CHAPTER XL
UNVEILED
Like a swan cleaving the waters, Merodach forced his way through the ebb and flow of an eager crowd, even dangerous in the impatience with which it surged to one common centre, where two figures, dusty and travel-worn, as though arriving from a journey, sat patiently on their drooping horses to receive with exceeding calmness the cheers and congratulations lavished by the populace. One of these was in female attire, and enough of the veil and mantle were thrown aside to disclose a beautiful face, recognised with wild enthusiasm by the people of Babylon for that of the Great Queen. Shouts of welcome, acclamations denoting a transport of loyalty and affection, rose on all sides. "Semiramis! Semiramis!" was the ceaseless burden of many thousand voices; while the lowest and dirtiest of the excited multitude demanded angrily the repeal of that law which forbade a woman to reign over the sons of Ashur, insisting that their queen should be invested with supreme authority in this her especial city, the work of her hands, proposing that she should ride at once to the palace, on a pavement composed of their own necks and shoulders, many of them proceeding to fling themselves on their faces with that object forthwith.
So flattering a reception seemed, however, to raise no corresponding gratitude in the person to whom it was offered. The beautiful face wore only an expression of malicious amusement mingled with somewhat scornful surprise; while the other horseman, riding in close attendance, looked strangely troubled, whispering doubt and apprehension in the ear of his more composed, if more contemptuous, companion.