“So be it,” remarked Cyrus; then to the priest he hinted sternly, “Your friends will do well to keep troth. Let there be treachery in this, and I swear by your gods and by mine, I will lift your head from your shoulders!”
The Babylonian was not discomposed. “And I accept the warning; if I or my priests of Nabu play false, do to me as you will. But if Babylon is taken—”
“You shall not fail in your reward,” declared Cyrus, “on the word of a Persian king; I renew my promise of the high priesthood of Bel-Marduk in Avil’s stead.”
“Forward then,” urged the Chaldee; “let the king possess his city.”
The charioteer made the lash whistle, the car whirled forward. The shadow of the great walls was above them now; speed, not silence, demanded; the guards about the king pricked with the spur to keep beside. Darius spoke again to Cyrus:—
“Lord, Imbi-Ilu tells us that at midnight Belshazzar quits his bridal feast.”
Cyrus shot a glance up at the heavens, where the advancing clouds had not yet quenched all the starlight.
“By the movement of the stars, it lacks three hours of midnight,” he answered.
“We must therefore take all Babylon in three hours. Away with prudence; haste, oh, haste!” cried the prince.