"And Sarchedon would look nobly at their head," she answered, with one of her bewildering smiles. "It may come to pass yet for him who knows when to strike and when to forbear. Hush! there are higher destinies written in the stars than the posting of a few tinselled spearmen to watch the slumbers of a king!"
He was equal to the occasion. O, heart of man! so strong and bold when beset by danger or privation, so weak and untenable when assailed on the side of vanity! He replied in a low and trembling voice, "It is honour enough for me. Yet is there one post I would rather hold—one watch I would give my life to keep, if only for a day!"
"You shall not pay so dear a price!" she answered gently. "Take a lesson from the amulet on your own breast. See how that loving bird follows the arrow's flight. So long as her career is upward, the shaft can never pierce her heart. 'Tis a fair and precious jewel—let no temptation lead you to part from it. I will examine it more closely hereafter."
"It is my queen's!" he exclaimed. "As is my life, and all I have."
"Keep it till I require it of you," was the answer. "And now tell me, Sarchedon, amongst these goodly warriors, whom think you the fairest and the comeliest?"
"There are none in all the host to be compared with him now passing beneath us in his chariot," said Sarchedon boldly. "None other face of man or woman half so fair—but one!"
Such words conveyed no mental reservation—though his own heart told him he had over shot the truth. But punishment for his duplicity followed quickly on the offence.
Another of those rare smiles stole over the queen's face, as the acclamations of the multitude rose higher than before to greet him who must hereafter be their king; and Ninyas, reclining in his chariot, accepted with indolent good-humour that loud and boisterous welcome. His shield and spear were laid aside—his bow and quiver hung at the back of the chariot. On his head, from which the dark curls were combed back so daintily, he wore no helmet of defence—only a light linen tiara bound by a circlet of gold. Robes of violet silk floated loosely round his exquisite shape and womanly roundness of limb, while he carried a jewelled drinking-cup, long since emptied, in his hand. It was the attire—the attitude—the appearance of a votary of pleasure hastening to the banquet, rather than of a tired warrior returning from the field. Nevertheless, it may be that a character for prowess, cheaply earned enough by a king's son in battle, lost nothing of its value among the thoughtless crowd, for an affectation of effeminacy, only excusable in one of such youth, beauty, and reputed valour. The queen, looking down on him well-pleased, could not refrain from exclaiming:
"My son is indeed comely! Yet is it the comeliness of a woman rather than a man."
"There is but one woman on earth more fair," whispered Assarac in her ear. "Nevertheless, were she down yonder in male attire on a war-chariot, and he sitting amongst us here in the royal robes of a queen, I doubt if the change would be suspected by one of all that countless multitude now gazing in admiration on both."