Sarchedon: A Legend of the Great Queen

by G. J. Whyte-Melville

And yet his port was never more assured, his step firmer, his aspect more dignified, than when, after this interview with Semiramis, that had stung him to the core, he took his place at the altar to offer the usual evening sacrifice to his god.

The sun was sinking, and its level beams shed a crimson flush on the white garments of a band of priests, as on the spotless alabaster columns that crowned the lower story of the temple, supporting those upper chambers, of which the mysteries were veiled to eyes profane. A hundred steps, broken by five stately terraces, led down to an open space, in which thousands were crowded to witness the ceremony with upturned faces, that glowed no less vividly than did altar, shrine, and priests in the warm red lustre of a setting sun.

As in the morning to the east, so in the evening sacrifice the people turned themselves to the west.

A score of oxen stood lowing behind the altar. It seemed the poor beasts felt some forebodings of the fate that awaited them; though not till incense had been burned and drink-offerings poured out were their throats to be cut, at a given signal, and their flesh roasted for the consumption of that lavish god, whose daily service thus required the presence of a thousand satellites. These stood, marshalled like warriors, in rear of Assarac and Beladon, who assisted him in his functions. Swinging their censers, they continued chanting, or rather muttering, in a low voice and a minor key, certain formal repetitions, detailing the names and quality of their deity.

After a short delay, during which Assarac kept his eyes steadily fixed on the setting sun, he advanced before the altar, followed by Beladon, who waved above his superior's head the mystic ring, which, enclosing a representation of wings, formed the emblem of that incomprehensible power whose attributes were ubiquity and eternity. The eunuch's gait and gestures were solemn and imposing in the extreme; his ornaments of massive gold, his spotless robes, deeply embroidered, falling in heavy folds about his person, his fine stature and noble bearing—all were calculated to enhance his own dignity and that of the sacred office he fulfilled. Turning slowly to Beladon, he received at the hands of that assistant a golden cup filled with wine to the brim, and poured from it gravely a libation to the four quarters of heaven, finishing with the west. A hundred priests then advanced, chanting their hymns in time to a measured march, a hundred timbrels rang in sounding strains to the praise of Baal; and while fires were kindled, while smoke went up, and music swelled, the blood of twenty oxen flowed round the altar, filling the channels cut to receive it with a bubbling crimson stream.

Assarac and Beladon stood on each side, facing the people, wrapt, as it were, in a holy trance. Men looked on them in awe-struck wonder as votaries under the immediate influence of the god, whom Ashur himself, coming down from his throne, might address face to face, who were communing even now in spirit with the souls of departed heroes, with all the powers of all the host of heaven.

Little did they think how the eunuch's whole being was possessed at that very moment by a human vision of the brightest eye that ever shone in promise, the sweetest lips that ever kissed or smiled; while his attendant, yielding to desires yet more of earth, earthly, pierced the crowd with a gaze that, for all its semblance of holy preoccupation, did but seek a well-known female figure, alluring of form, lavishly attired, and not too closely veiled.

No sooner had the sun gone down, the stars come out, than Beladon, whose time was now his own, sought one of those courts which formed a communication between the temple of Baal and the king's palace, supposed by the people of Babylon to be occupied by Ninyas in a retirement from which their present temper would have rendered it extremely dangerous for him to emerge. Semiramis had returned to live in her own royal dwelling, where she held such state as caused all former magnificence to pale. The king's house, therefore, as it was called, became comparatively deserted; and with the exception of its wooded parks or paradises, fenced off for game, no spot in the whole city could have been so secluded as that in which Beladon lingered, pacing to and fro, stopping, muttering, glancing about him in fretful perturbation of spirit, peculiar to one waiting for a woman on whom he cannot quite depend. "At last!" he exclaimed, catching sight of a veiled figure gliding amongst the arches that skirted the court, like a ghost in the dubious starlight. "At last! And I saw you in the midst of the multitude before the sun went down, looking on at the sacrifices. Where have you lingered, woman, and what have you been doing since?"

Kalmim, for it was none other, raised her veil and laughed in his face.

"Who hunts learns cunning," said she. "Who toils learns skill. Who waits learns patience. With cunning, skill, and patience, even a priest may come at what he desires."