“Thirty-three, but she has not lost her swiftness, agility, or strength.”
The blare of instruments announced that the conquerors were coming, and soon afterwards the first of the procession appeared.
A thousand richly caparisoned elephants came first, laden with mail-clad warriors. Behind these came the miserable captives, chained to bars of wood, and drawn along by women on horseback, who cracked their whips over them constantly. Four thousand of these hideous dwarfs of both sexes had been brought alive from their native haunts. Following the elephants, they passed the palace walls, while the people looked at them silently.
A large troop of horsewomen came next, and then, at the head of her charioteers, appeared the victorious queen.
Our heroes looked at her as she stood upright in her golden chariot, resting on her massive spear, and they were dazzled at her majesty and the light that blazed from her.
Over six feet in height she stood in her jewelled sandals. Round her brows wound the royal serpent with uplifted crest, while from behind fell a fringe of blue, red, white, and yellow, barred with gold and crusted with precious stones. Her breasts and limbs were covered with golden links, while from her shoulders fluttered a rich light cloak, that trailed over the back of the chariot. Three young lions dragged the car. She was an imperial woman, with a pale face regularly featured, and great dark eyes that looked out coldly yet steadily as the car slowly glided forward.
Beautiful she was, in the full pride of power and matured strength, with a figure that was matchless. But it was a face to shudder before. It was so pitiless, and so icily composed.
No cry of welcome greeted her approach, but a great hush fell over the multitude, that was more impressive. She was in their eyes a goddess as well as a queen, and all bent their heads and covered their eyes. Ned and his followers felt decidedly uncomfortable.
As she passed the split lines of Matabeles and Basutos, she shot side glances over their stalwart figures without turning her head. Then she came to a dead stop opposite Ned, and fixed upon him her steady great black eyes. He bent his head under that passionless but strangely disquieting stare.
While she stood, from the palace gates came her brother consort, mounted on a white horse, and clad in royal robes that were also blazing with precious stones. He was taller than the male attendants who accompanied him, but, in spite of his tiara and rich robes, looked the trembling wreck that he was.