The priest rose and stood in the shadowy place. The king of men, the priest of the gods—these two were, or seemed to be, the greatest of the shapes that trod the earth! The king-shape appeared to have sinew and bulk, the priest-shape height. Sometimes the king-shape twisted the neck of the priest-shape, but ever the next hour it rose the same. Sometimes the priest-shape made the king-shape creep upon the earth, but never could it keep it there. Sometimes the two were friends, and though they used differing darts, pursued the same quarry. Sometimes the two were one, priest-kings. In the countries where that was so the ruler-shape had power indeed.... In this island of the blue sea king and priest were two. But the priest had in his quiver awe of the huge supernatural. And all shapes, king-shapes and others, deeply feared those arrows, dipped in juices not of earth.
When now the chief priest stood in the dusk of the king’s chamber, Sandanis saw the bow in his hands and the arrow headed against himself. “King Sandanis! King Sandanis! The god will part your house from you, all your friends and your island—”
Sandanis, sitting upon his couch, clenched hands upon the wrought cedar. The chief priest felt for and found a master arrow, and found it the sooner for that he, also, at times, knew lands deeper than the land of worldly loss. He towered, he became the invulnerable Archer. “Are you more great, O man! than God? Are you more wise than the Immortal? Do you withstand? Then your part in him will dissolve like a cloud! It will pass like a cry when he is not listening!”
A seabird went by the king’s door with a whistling cry. Rose the priest’s voice, “A portent!—A portent!—”
Men took and bound the Amazon in the king’s house. The priests made proclamation of a great and solemn procession to the fane and the altar above the sea. That was to be in the morning. In the deep middle of the night stole King Sandanis to the room hollowed in stone where there was wont to be kept the sacrifice until the east was red.
The two men without the door said naught, but rested on the earth, their heads wrapped in their mantles. The king went in, and there were two torches, burning gold-coloured and straight, and between them, bound to a stone sat Lindane.
Sandanis took station opposite. “Lindane! Lindane!”
Lindane opened her eyes. “Thou who would slay me! Are there no queens and priestesses to draw breath and cry ‘Save’?”
“Queens are but kings’ wives or mothers. If the god says ‘Sacrifice!’ will the priestesses say him nay?”
“The god! O Thou-who-bringest-forth! where art thou, my goddess?”