Sarchedon: A Legend of the Great Queen

by G. J. Whyte-Melville

With the thrill that vibrated in every fibre of the old king's frame arose the invariable accompaniment of sincere affection—a sense of uncertainty and unworthiness.

"I was a stout warrior then," said he, "and not so uncomely, for one whose life had been spent in saddle and war-chariot; but the colour has faded on my cheek now, and worse, the fire has gone from my spirit like the strength from my limbs."

There was a plaintive ring in the deep hoarse voice, that must have touched any heart, save that of a woman with a purpose in view.

"Not so!" she exclaimed, hanging fondly about him. "Not so, my lord, my love, my hero! I swear by the host of heaven, that to me you are more noble, more kingly, more beautiful now, in the dignity of your past deeds and mature fame, than in all the vehemence and ardour of your impetuous manhood. Nay, my beloved," she added, half playfully, half sadly, while clinging yet closer to his side, "it is not I alone who think so; there were looks shot at my lord as he rode through the streets from the brightest eyes in Babylon, that had I not known full surely I was his only queen and love, would have made me so miserable I had fled straightway to the desert, and never looked on the face of man again."

Is there any age at which the male heart becomes insensible to such flattery? With ebbing life and failing vigour, battered and out-worn by a hundred battles, glorious in the splendour of a hundred victories, the Great King might surely have been above that boyish vanity, which counts for a triumph the empty gain of a woman's fancy; yet Ninus smiled well pleased, and Semiramis felt that her petition was already more than half granted, her game more than half won.

"They know a stout spearman when they see one still," said the old hero proudly, "and they judge by the ruin, doubtless, what the tower must have been in its prime. Well, well, it stood many an assault in its day, and from hosts of many nations, nor thought once of surrender, till my queen here marched in and took possession, with all the honours of war."

"And she has held it since against every woman in the world!" murmured his wife, with another of those resistless glances, and a bright flush. "Is it not so? Keep me not in the agony of suspense. Let me have the king's word for my great happiness, and swear, by the head of Nisroch, to grant me my desire!"

"I must hear first what it is," said the old warrior playfully; but observing the tears start to her eyes, he added in fond haste, "Nay, nay, beloved, the queen's petition shall be granted, whatever it be, even to the half of mine empire."

"It is more than that!" exclaimed Semiramis, with a smile as ready as her tears. "It is the whole empire I desire! I would fain sit in the seat of my lord the king, but only for a day."

Ninus shook his head. "You are like your boy," said he fondly. "Do you not remember when we took Ninyas for the first time to hunt the lion outside the walls, and the lad must needs ride Samiel, the wild war-horse, that bent to no hand but mine? By the blood of Merodach, he wept like a maid, and I had not the heart to refuse him; but when he was fairly in the saddle the tears soon dried on his cheek, for the horse broke away with him like the wind of the desert, from which he took his name. I tell you, while I stood there dismounted, I must have felt what men call fear! I never knew how I prized the boy, till my horse brought him back to me unhurt. Samiel loved not to be far distant from his lord; and now Samiel is dead, and his rider worn-out, and the queen—what was it the queen asked? That she too should ride a steed she cannot control? Does she know the pride of the Assyrian people, the turbulence of the crowd, the daily clamour for sluices to be opened and granaries unbarred, the craft of the priests, the false witness borne at the seat of judgment, and the weight of the royal word, which may not be recalled?"