CHAPTER XVII

IN THE SHADOW OF ZARIASPA

From the walls of Zariaspa the Bactrians watched a besieging host

descend into the plains. First came mounted warriors who paused at the

mountain's foot, one half to pitch their camp and guard the road which

swarms of workmen delved to smooth, while the other half made shift to

sweep the country round about, to seize on points of vantage or to beat

back hostile bands of horse and foot that sought to enter the city and

aid its strength. Then followed long lines of chariots, till the eyes

of the Bactrians ached with the glitter of the proud array. This second

army, when it reached the plains, began likewise to divide, stretching

away to east and west in the manner of two huge, creeping arms that girt

the city in a close embrace. Day after day went by, till the war-cars

stood at rest in a circle six hundred cubits distant from the walls;

then came the footmen.

As a locust pest descends upon a land, so swarmed this horde from out

the hills, till the earth was hidden and the grass blades died beneath

their tread. As the forces of horse and chariots had split, so split

the footmen, swinging to east and west, then sitting down behind the

besieging circle's outer rim.

The Assyrians offered no assault upon the walls, for their engines of

war must first be guided down the mountainside and their catapults and

towers be set in place; yet the army lay not in idleness. Detachments

were sent to forage through the land, laying up stores among the

foot-hills where the camp of supplies was set. Here the cattle were put

to fatten on fertile slopes where water abounded in the valleys near at

hand. Here grass was plucked and borne away as feed for the chariot

steeds. Here, also, the pack trains were brought to camp under guard of

a strong reserve, for the feeding of the army proved a mighty task.

Below this camp ten thousand slaves toiled ceaselessly among the rocky

wastes, piling huge stones upon wooden sledges, dragging them away and

piling them up again for use of the waiting catapults. Still other

slaves filled water-skins which they strapped on the backs of asses and

drove the braying beasts to distant points where springs and streams

were not; so the labors of men went on.

On an eminence among the hills, where three long years agone the King

had sat his horse and watched an army break its camp, Ninus now sat

before his tent, commanding the order of his force below. Even as he

builded Nineveh, that splendid city of defense, he now laid out a

thousand cities of assault. Like the tire of a chariot wheel his army

encompassed the hub of Zariaspa, the spokes thereof being long, wide

avenues, converging toward the city walls and affording unhampered

ground for the moving of his men, or for bearing food to his hungry

hosts. Each spoke was a sharp dividing line between the outposts of a

separate camp, each camp in command of a leader accounting to an

over-chief who in turn accounted to the King.

This plan of war seemed good to Ninus, and in his joy he forgot all else

save the fire of a mighty conqueror; yet when his engines were dragged

into the plains and set at vantage points within his lines, he

remembered Menon, and his heart grew cold again.

This man had saved Assyria's vanguard from defeat, aye, even the life of

Ninus he had saved, and thereby won the love of a multitude who were

witness to the deed. Justice cried out for the King's forgiveness, yet

it cried in vain, for justice is ever a feather-weight in the scale of

jealousy.

"Nay," the monarch muttered, sullenly, "him may I not forgive; yet, lest

these foolish chieftains murmur among themselves, I will keep my

covenants."

Therefore he summoned Menon to his tent, dismissing the guard so that

none might overhear his words, and spoke:

"In Syria I set thee to a task and bade thee wed Sozana when all things

were accomplished in that land. A servant thou art, and the price of

disobedience is the heaviest debt a servant needs must pay. If,

therefore, thou judgest me because I withhold my love, think then of the

trust I placed in thee and the manner in which my faith hath been

deceived."

"My lord," replied the Prince, "I pray thee suffer me to speak as in

other days thine ear was turned in patience to my words." Ninus nodded,

and the youth went on: "In all things, save one alone, I have set the

King's desires above the yearnings of my will. In childhood I bore his

wine cup, obedient to his lightest nod. From him I learned the arts of

war, and served him through conquests of four score lands, sparing

neither strength nor blood to bring him victory. When Nineveh was rising

from the earth I journeyed down into Arabia, measured my sword with the

Prince Boabdul, and sealed a treaty which gave Assyria peace along the

border lands. It bringeth thee stallions from the plains of Barbary,

and an army of mounted Bedouins; it bringeth thee peace of heart, for

thine enemies are now thy friends. In Syria I ruled till summer for the

third time came, nor grudged the ceaseless labor of my hands. For my

master's needs at Nineveh I sapped the wealth of every Syrian tribe,

save the Sons of Israel alone, whose grip on treasure no mortal man hath

yet been born to loose with profit unto himself."

"Ah, good my lord, I have no will to wag a boastful tongue, yet man to

man I give thee simple truth, urging that a life's devotion outcount the

grave displeasure of my King."

Ninus was moved. In his heart he loved this youth as he loved no other

throughout the kingdom of Assyria, and now he sat in reverie, his chin

upon his hand, with eyes that gazed upon the armies at his feet and saw

them not. Full well he knew the value of a servant's deeds; full well

he knew the power of Menon's sway among the soldiery, who, since the

battle in the mountain pass, had set him upon a perch of fame. In the

siege of the city Menon's sword would rise as a tower of strength, yet

might it not outshine the King's? What profited the fall of Zariaspa if

the name of Menon rolled on the tongue of victory? Could a single

chariot hold two gods of war? Nay, not so; for one must drive while the

other smote the enemy. Who, then, should ply the whip and who the

spear? By Gibil, it were better far that the grapes of triumph hung

unplucked than to watch a rival make merry on their juice! Yet Ninus

was Ninus, and what had he to fear from a beardless under-chief?

"Harken!" said the King. "Thy prayer is granted, and my anger, together

with thy one misdeed, shall be forgotten, even as we cleanse our blades

with moistened sand. To the glory of Asshur must Zariaspa fall, and

Menon shall follow Ninus through its broken shell."

In the eyes of the Prince rose tears of gratitude, as he sought to kiss

his master's robe; but the master in haste withdrew it, for a woman

peeped through memory's veil, and her smile was a smile of mockery.

"Nay, not so fast," King Ninus growled. "The trader's pack is lightened

ere his purse may swallow up the gain. To enjoy the fruits of a

monarch's love, first, then, must the cause of sorrow be dispelled."

"What meanest thou, my lord?" asked Menon, rising from his knees; and

the King smiled grimly, combing at his beard.

"Put by Shammuramat--dream of her no more--and take the daughter of

Raman-Nirari to thy bed and board."

At the words of the King a flame of anger lit the young Assyrian's eyes;

yet he curbed his tongue and stood, in silence, beneath the tyrant's

gaze. Long thus he stood, but made reply at last:

"My lord, did Shammuramat bid me tear the memory of Ninus from my heart,

I would answer as I answer now--it may not be. Thy servant is one whom

Sozana loveth not, and to me she is naught save a friend and the

daughter of my King. Shammuramat is mine--by the will of Ishtar and the

word of my master given in the halls of Nineveh. With her, her only,

will I share my bed and board, till it pleaseth the gods to rend our

vows apart."

"So be it," Ninus answered, and pointed across the valleys to the

sun-lit plains beyond. "Mark yon road which runneth from the foot-hills

to the city's southern gate! Beyond it on the east lieth half my army.

Go forth and take command. The west is mine. Since Menon setteth his

will against the King's, so shall he set his strength against my

strength, and in the fall of Zariaspa prove the better man."

For a space Prince Menon made no answer, but scanned the distant road

which cut the besieging host in twain as a knife divides a loaf. To the

east lay sun-baked plains where water was scarce and stones were few,

while on the west lay fertile valleys where the fattening oxen browsed,

and hillsides abounding in stones wherewith to feed the catapults.

Again, on the west were set the heaviest engines of assault, while to

Menon's lot fell the lighter towers and weaker catapults of clumsy and

old design.

It was easy to perceive why Ninus chose the west, for every resource lay

ready at his hand. His outposts commanded all mountain roads, and the

camp of supply was set within his lines, whence food and water must be

borne to the eastern army over parching Bands. In event of a

counter-siege, attack must come from the border lands along the river

Oxus, thus causing the east to bear the brunt of each assault--and the

Scythian riders were wont to strike in hours of sleep.

Menon was quick to mark the wisdom of the monarch's choice, yet he hid

his rage and spoke with a mocking smile:

"My lord, the master's generosity is here made manifest, for on the

eastern camp the sun is first to rise, thus giving me a longer day

wherein to wrestle with mine enemies. I yield my gratitude, O Lord of

Earth and Heaven, and may Ishtar smile on him who first shall stand upon

the citadel."

Then Menon made obeisance, mounted his good steed Scimitar and rode

toward the east, while the King gazed after him, combing at his beard.

When Menon reached his camp, he entered his tent and straightway

summoned Huzim to his side. To the Indian he recounted all which had

come to pass, and laid a trust upon him which to another might not be

given.

"Huzim," he began, "of all who have served me, there is none the like of

you in faith and love; yet now must I add to my weight of debt in a task

of peril and of toil. Go you in secret unto Nineveh and there gain

speech with my wife Shammuramat. Tell her of all these things which I

breathe into your ear alone, then contrive her escape and together

journey to the land of Prince Boabdul who will give you both retreat.

When this be compassed, send me a trusted messenger, when I, myself,

will follow after you."

Menon ceased to speak, and for a space the Indian looked thoughtfully

upon the earth.

"My lord," he answered, "this thing will I do, as in all things else I

serve my master, even with my life; yet would it not be better far that

I lay in wait for Ninus when he hunteth among the hills? An arrow in

his throat--"

"Nay," smiled Menon; "we may not harbor murder against Assyria's King,

even though we live because of it. Go you to the furthest outposts of

our camp, and when night is fallen creep away among the hills. Cross

them, avoiding all roads and passes held by our men-at-arms, then make

such speed to Nineveh as wisdom and your craft have taught. If it

please the gods that Shammuramat shall reach Arabia, there guard her,

Huzim, till I come to prove my gratitude."

To the Indian Menon gave a pouch of precious metal for his needs on the

road to Nineveh and for his flight therefrom; then Huzim embraced his

master's knees and disappeared toward the south.

* * * * *

In the three long years of peace which had come to Bactria since

Assyria's first attack, the people had not lain down in idleness, but

labored diligently against the second coming of the King. If Ninus

marched against their smaller towns, he found their walls unmanned,

their streets deserted save for forgotten dogs, the houses empty of

inhabitants or stores. Beyond the river Oxus an army of mounted

Bactrians lay encamped, but far too fleet and numerous to be followed

ere their chief of cities be destroyed; so Ninus pursued them not.

The years of peace had likewise wrought a change in Zariaspa, for its

walls were heightened and capped by jutting battlements, whereon the

besieged could laugh at ladders which their foes set up; and its many

gates were sealed with masonry. Save at a single point on the

north-west side, where the plain sloped downward into a deep and dry

ravine, the Bactrians had digged a mighty ditch about their walls,

though whence came the water which ever filled this trench, was a

mystery as dark as the city's source of food. None might drink this

water, lest they sicken and die, with swollen bodies and discolored

flesh; for in truth the trench was poisoned by reason of offal flung

therein.

By day the Bactrians thronged their battlements, gibing at their foes,

while at night the walls were lighted by flaring braziers clamped

beneath the jut-stones and fed with pitch through slits which pierced

the masonry. Thus the parapets were shrouded in uncertain gloom, while

beneath, the walls were bathed in light; and woe unto him who sought to

swim the trench and clamber up.

On every side the Assyrians began to fill this trench, and labored to

that end by hurling stones and the waste of camp materials by means of

their catapults. Likewise, by night, a myriad of slaves took up the

tasks, and of a sudden a horde of naked men would rush from out the

darkness, each bearing on his head a sack of sand, each flinging his

burden into the trench and beating swift retreat; though many were

slain, and weary days went by ere the grievous work was done.

On the city's western side King Ninus straightway urged a fierce

assault, and from dawn till dusk the battlements resounded with the

crash of mighty stones. Great creaking towers of metal-plated wood were

pushed against the wall, while from their swaying tops the Assyrians

flung out bridges, battling with the Bactrians hand to hand. Anon they

would win a foothold among their enemies who repelled them with swords

and spears, or destroyed their towers by means of engines of strange and

devilish design. These engines, set on wheels and dragged to given

points along the parapet, were fashioned in the form of a mighty bow

whose missiles were trunks of trees with sharpened points. These shafts

were soaked in oil and smeared with pitch or resinous gum, and before

discharge they were set on fire, then crashed into the clumsy towers, to

stick and wrap the whole in flames, while the choked Assyrians leaped

down to death or roasted in the wreck. So, thus, for the space of a

moon King Ninus toiled, compassing naught save the bitterness of defeat,

grave loss of his men-at-arms, and destruction to his engines of

assault.

On Zariaspa's eastern walls Assyria made no attack. Menon foresaw that

the city must be won by strategy rather than by might; therefore he put

his camps in order, looking to the health and comfort of his men ere he

sacrificed their lives in a fruitless siege.

To lessen the toil of bearing water from the distant hills, he commanded

that wells be dug in every camp; and having sunk these wells--many to

the depth of thirty cubits--his wisdom was rewarded by the bounty of

Mother Earth. Now toward the north the digging was in vain, while

southward the shallower wells gave forth a cool, sweet flow of water;

and the reason thereof was a sore perplexity, albeit, in after-days the

solving of the riddle was, to Semiramis, a simple task.

Next, Menon caused his chariots to be set in double lines and tilted

upon their tails. From their upright harness-poles he stretched wide

canopies of cloth and matted grass; thus, in the noon-day heat, which

ever increased in fierceness as the summer grew, his men might rest

beneath a grateful shade. This joyed the Assyrians mightily, and where

chariots there were none, they planted their spears and devised a roof

of vines and the boughs of trees. 'Twas a little thing, this thought

for the common soldiery, yet it bought an army utterly, and the Prince

was looked upon with pride.

Then to Menon came the thought that if he alone could see beyond the

city walls, a marked advantage might be scored against the King; and for

many days he rolled the problem in his brain, till suddenly he laughed

aloud and summoned a messenger to his side. This messenger, presently,

rode southward, skirting the city wall, till he crossed the dividing

road and came to the western camp, where he found King Ninus in a

fretful mood.

"O King," spoke the messenger, falling upon his knees, "my master

sendeth greeting to the lord of Earth and Heaven, and speaketh through

the mouth of his humble slave. Because of the height of Zariaspa's

walls, the lord of Assyria knoweth naught of what the Bactrians do

within; therefore my master urgeth that a mighty mound of earth be

raised to the reach of forty cubits above the plains."

"How now!" cried Ninus, angrily. "Wherefore should I do this foolish

thing?"

"Nay, lord," the messenger made reply, "I do but recount my master's

words. From the summit of this mound the King might dispose his armies

with a wider view; and, likewise, mark the weakest points within the

foemen's walls. This, my lord, is all, save thy royal answer which my

master chargeth me to bear."

Now had Ninus himself devised the plan, it might have seemed good to

him; yet, coming from Menon in the form of fatherly advice and spoken in

the presence of a score of chiefs, it roused the monarch's ire. His

brow grew black with rage; he rose and spurned the messenger with his

foot.

"Go back," he thundered, "and say that Ninus fighteth upon the earth,

and not in the manner of kites above the clouds. Urge, also, that the

meddler hold his tongue, lest Asshur tempt me and I cut it out. Begone!"

So the messenger returned to Menon, who smiled at the anger of his King

and straightway began to raise a mound upon the east, while Ninus, from

the west, still battered at the walls with ponderous stones.

For many days and nights the eastern camp was given o'er to sweating

toil, as cubit by cubit rose the monster mound which even unto this day

may be seen on the plains of Bactria. And while this labor grew apace,

another and more irksome task was laid upon the soldiery, for stones

must be gathered from the distant hills wherewith to serve the

catapults, and loud rose the mutterings of those who journeyed back and

forth beneath the sun.

"My lord," spoke Kedah, one day dismounting at Menon's side, "our chiefs

are murmuring amongst themselves and the men wax petulant."

"Wherefore?" asked Menon, laying a gentle hand on the shoulder of his

friend.

"Because," answered Kedah, "they yearn to fly at Zariaspa's throat, yet

weapons rust, and my lord employeth men in the tasks of slaves. It is

not meet that warriors strain their thews in dragging stones across the

sands, nor in digging earth wherewith to build a mountain on a plain."

"Patience, good Kedah," Menon urged, "for the mountain is well-nigh

done; and as for the gathering of stones, I bethink me of another plan."

He leaned and whispered into Kedah's ear, and as he spoke the soldier

grinned, then laughed aloud and smote himself upon the thigh. So Kedah,

chuckling, rode away; and, as Menon had whispered into his ear, in turn

he whispered into the ear of the chief of every camp, who grinned and

rubbed his palms.

That night the Bactrians heard a mighty hammering outside their walls,

and when morning dawned they marvelled at a line of scaffolding of

strange design which had risen in the darkness. On upright spears were

bits of rag, fluttering like banners in the breeze, while at intervals

were set huge effigies of Oxyartes and the chiefs of Zariaspa, in

attitudes which caused a wound to their stately pride.

The Assyrians came forth with shoutings and mysterious signs. They

danced in circles, while pointing scoffing fingers at their enemies upon

the walls, and bowed in obeisance before their ugly effigies.

Now the Bactrians knew not what manner of strategy lay concealed behind

this scaffolding, so they set their catapults and battered it down with

a storm of stones; thereat the Assyrians sent up wailings, shrieks of

rage--and the noise of their mouths was great. With bitter curses they

shook their fists, attacking their foes with arrows and with slings: yet

after a space they retreated sullenly beyond the danger line. When night

was come the Bactrians again heard hammerings, and morning found the

scaffolds once more set in place, though a pace or two more distant from

the walls. This time the Zariaspians laughed, and reduced the work to

splinters with stones from their hurling-beams, while Assyria's children

cursed them till the deed was done.

For seven nights the scaffolds were rebuilt, each night a pace or two

more distant from the catapults, yet the enemy each day would find the

range and fling them to the earth. On the seventh day the effigies of

Oxyartes and his chiefs were hung by their necks with ropes, and were

placed at the furthest scope of the Bactrian machines. On the scaffolds

were crowded a swarm of soldiery who bellowed songs of praise, or flung

vile insults at their foes, goading them to fury by names of a foulness

hitherto unknown. In vain the Bactrians strove to smite their mockers,

striving till the mid-day hour, yet their missiles fell short, and Menon

perched upon the summit of his mound, jeering at Oxyartes.

Now the spies of Ninus brought him word of the strangeness of Menon's

deeds, and, divining not the reason of these things, the King waxed warm

with curiosity. In his chariot he drove to the eastern camp, a slave

behind him who held a feathered screen above his head, for the heat of

the day was such that many died.

From afar the monarch spied the mound on which sat Menon, and it came to

Ninus that his general lolled at rest where grateful breezes blew, while

he, the lord of all Assyria, must sweat on a baking plain--and it vexed

him mightily. Likewise he perceived a half a league of scaffolding,

whereon clung a multitude of idle men. Wherefore should Menon waste the

hours of day when Zariaspa lay unconquered before his eyes? Must Ninus

toil to feed this lazy horde who swapped the work of war for childish

sports? By the glory of Asshur, this shameful thing should cease!

"Come down!" he cried to Menon, as he leaped from his brazen chariot;

and Menon came down and bowed before the King.

"What foolery is this which has come to pass?" the king demanded,

pointing to the hideous effigies, and he spoke with scorn: "Must Assyria

set up new and hateful gods, to worship them before the eyes of

Bactria?"

"Nay, lord," answered Menon, humbly, "we worship none save Assyria's

gods and Assyria's King."

A murmur rose from the circling chiefs, and the wrath of Ninus cooled

beneath the salve of flattery; yet still he scowled, and the tone of his

speech was harsh:

"If it be not worship, why then should ye toil for seven nights, and

watch each day while yonder Bactrians beat your temples to the ground?"

"My lord," replied Prince Menon, "our eastern camp is far removed from

the rock-strewn hills; and to lighten the labor of dragging stones

across the sands, we borrow from our good friend Oxyartes."

"Borrow!" cried the King. "What meanest thou?"

For answer Menon pointed to the ground outside the walls, now sown with

missiles which the Bactriana had cast from catapults.

"See, my lord, what the generous foemen give in payment for our gibes.

To gather such a store of stones would fill the space of two weary

moons; yet Oxyartes flingeth them out to me in seven days. Therefore we

hold them as a passing loan, till, presently, we shall hurl them back

again."

For a moment King Ninus spoke no word, yet his frown departed and his

features lit with a ghostly smile; then he mounted his chariot and drove

toward the west.

A shout went up from Menon's merry warriors, and when night was come

they gathered great piles of borrowed stones, with the which, in time,

they would storm the walls of Zariaspa.

CHAPTER VIII

THE RAISIN IN A SKIN OF VINEGAR

Through the hot brown streets of Nineveh a merchant of Phoenicia hawked

his wares. His frame, once huge and splendid in its strength, was bent

with seeming age, and a grey beard fell to the belt of his trailing

robe. Before him, by a leathern strap about his neck, hung a wooden

tray whereon his trinkets were displayed, baubles of polished metal,

beads of coral and of carven wood, rings, amulets, and fragrant scents.

Here, too, were bracelets, chains of many links, scarfs of web-like

fabrics and of gaudy hue, colored with the secret dyes from the Sea of

the Setting Sun.

From street to street the merchant pushed his way, while ever and anon

he raised his voice in a strange shrill cry which drew attention to

himself and to his wares; and thus he bartered among the foolish wives

of Nineveh. Yet at last he wandered past the market-place to the richer

quarters of the city, and came to the central mound whereon sat the

palace of the King. To the westward terraced slopes ran down to the

level of the streets and to smooth, wide avenues which stretched to the

river gate; yet here, where the merchant walked, the walls of the mound

rose twenty cubits, masking the royal gardens which drowsed in the

noon-day heat.

Again and yet again from the old man's throat came his strange, harsh

call, resembling the cry of a startled crane in flight; then, presently,

he paused at the joyous barking of a dog and a woman's voice in sharp

admonishment: "Peace, Habal, peace!"

The merchant hurried onward, yet at the entrance of a narrow lane he

turned, cried out once more and disappeared, while within the gardens

Semiramis hid a smile and sought to soothe the whining of a shepherd's

dog.

When noontide came again, the merchant once more wandered past the

garden walls, and now a captain of the guard came out to him.

"Hey, old man!" the soldier called. "Come, follow me, for the Princess

Sozana would look upon your wares."

"Nay," said the merchant, smiling as he shook his head, "my trinkets

deck the charms of common maidens in the market-place. The daughter of

a king would scorn them, for their price is small."

So spoke the merchant, and smiled once more as he turned upon his heel,

but the captain caught him roughly by the robe and whispered into his

ear:

"Fool! The Princess Sozana asks but once to look upon a merchant's

tray. Come quickly, lest I urge your pace by a spear-point in your

hams."

The old man trembled at the threat, and followed meekly, through a door

of bronze which pierced the wall. At the head of a narrow flight of

steps he reached the gardens which King Ninus made for the pleasure of

his idle hours. There were palms and vines from Syria, flowers from an

hundred lands, trees and shrubs which were strange to the merchant's

eyes, and fragrant thickets interlaced by tiny paths. Here a fountain

bubbled, and there an artificial spring gushed forth as though by nature

moistening the earth, while countless birds of brilliant plumage

fluttered down to drink.

Of a sudden the merchant and his guide came face to face with those who

had sent the summons. Beneath an arbor on a bench of stone sat the

Princess Sozana in a green simar which was wrought with precious gems

and with threads of gold. At her side lazed Semiramis, robed in white;

yet, unadorned, her beauty far outshone the daughter of the King. At

Sozana's feet lay Prince Memetis, the Egyptian hostage, toying with her

veil which was cast aside, and behind them stood an Afgan mute who waved

a monster fan of plumes. None else was near, save Kishra, chief eunuch

of the palace-guard whom Ninus had left in charge of his household and

his prisoners, and who now in watchful silence sat apart, his sharp eyes

resting on the merchant's face.

The old man knelt, bent forward till his forehead touched the earth, and

sprinkled dust upon his head; then, kneeling still, he displayed his

wares to the women's listless gaze. One by one he raised them from his

tray, expounding their virtues or the potency of sacred amulets; yet

none were pleasing to Sozana's mind.

"See," she pouted, plucking at the sleeve of Semiramis, "there is naught

save jingling rubbish such as slaves may wear. Wherefore shouldst thou

bring this merchant from the streets to weary me? Ho, Kishra! Bid the

man begone."

The eunuch strode forward, but Semiramis stayed him with a lifted hand.

"Nay," she pleaded, "I did but think to ease the dullness of the hour,

and the baubles please me, for many of the like have I seen in Syria."

The merchant raised his head, a light of hope within his eyes; then he

fumbled in a hidden corner of his tray, producing a tiny fish which was

carven in malachite and suspended by a leathern stong.

"Ah!" cried Semiramis, and clapped her hands. "Look, Sozana! 'Tis a

symbol of Dagon which the Syrian shepherds wear about their necks when

they roam the hills by night. Buy it for me, Kishra, for 'twill keep

off evil, bringing peace to me and to those who serve."

The eunuch scowled, but did her bidding, while Semiramis turned once

more to the trinket tray.

"Dost know the land of Syria, old man?"

"Aye, lady," the merchant answered with sparkling eyes, "from the slopes

of Lebanon to the Sea of Death--from Jordan where dwells the Sons of

Israel to Azapah and the valley of Ascalon--"

"Sweet Ishtar!" cried Semiramis, flinging up her hands. "My home,

Sozana! He hath journeyed even to my home in Ascalon!" She laughed and

turned to the merchant once again, for now in truth she knew that Huzim

hid beneath the Phoenician's robe. "Speak," she commanded, in the

Syrian tongue which was strange to Kishra and her friends, "speak, for

they may not understand. What message from my lord?"

So Huzim answered her and told of the danger-snares which beset his

master round about. He told of the battle in the pass, of the wrath of

Ninus, and of how the King made proclamation of the prize to him who

should first stand conqueror on the citadel of Zariaspa. He spoke of

all which Menon had commanded him, and though his words were heavy with

the weight of fear, yet Semiramis nodded in seeming happiness and

clapped her hands.

"What telleth he?" Sozana asked, and Semiramis answered with a joyous

smile:

"He telleth of my lake which sparkleth like unto a jewel among the

hills; of my fishes that swim therein, and of Dagon's little temple on

the shore. I see the sheep that browse by day, till the sun is low

behind the desert's rim, and one by one the shepherds' fires leap,

twinkling, through the dusk. Ah, Sozana, mine, 'tis like unto the joy

of Prince Memetis when he dreameth by night of his silver Nile and the

mighty pyramids."

Sozana, turning, cast a look of tenderness on him who smiled into her

eyes, and suffered her hand to linger when the Egyptian raised it to his

lips.

"Say on," begged Semiramis of the merchant once again, "for I tell you,

friend, when first I heard your hunter's call in the streets below, my

heart was set a-leaping, even as Habal loosed his tongue in honest joy.

Poor Habal! I have shut him in my chamber, lest in his gladness he

spring upon your breast and thereby undeceive this eunuch Kishra, who

even now regardeth you with a doubting eye. Be, therefore, brief. What

more of my troubled lord?"

"Mistress," replied the faithful Indian, "he urgeth that we steal away

from Nineveh by craft and journey to the land of Prince Boabdul, whither

the master followeth when my messenger shall bear him word that all is

well."

"So be it," said Semiramis, puckering her brows. "Kishra, bear a draught

of wine to this aged man who is athirst and would now depart."

The chief of eunuchs departed on her errand, and in his absence

Semiramis spoke quickly, albeit she smiled the while:

"Go, Huzim, and sell your wares through Nineveh by day, yet wait by

night on the further river-bank where the water lilies grow. If seven

nights pass by and I come not to the place, then walk once more by the

garden wall, and Sozana shall summon you again. Buy baubles of Egypt,

Huzim, for her lover is of that land, and trifles will seem of value in

her sight; yet if Ishtar smileth I will win to the river-bank and

journey to Arabia as my lord hath willed."

When Kishra returned with a cup of wine, the Princess listened eagerly

to the merchant's tale of a ring he had seen and would seek to find. It

was fashioned, he said, of yellow metal in the form of two serpents

intertwined. It was set with moon-stones, jewels sacred to the goddess

Isis who shed her light on the land of Pharaohs far beyond the sea; and

Sozana laughed in happiness, urging that he buy this ring though it

brought the price of an hundred slaves. The merchant promised as he

drank his wine, then, once more bowing till his forehead touched the

earth, he departed whence he came. In the streets below he smiled as he

hawked his wares, while those in the garden heard his voice uplifted

ever and anon in the cry of a startled crane.

Three days passed by, and Semiramis whipped her brain for means of

escape from Nineveh; yet all in vain, for liberty seemed as far denied

as though her limbs were weighted down by chains. On the parapets of

the garden wall paced sentinels from dawn till dawn was come again, so

that none might pass unchallenged or unscathed. The palace was but a

prison perched on its lofty mound, and though its halls still swarmed

with servants and with slaves, its portals were sealed while the King

made war on Bactria. By night Semiramis shared the chamber of Sozana,

yet the door she might not pass, for across its threshold the eunuch

Kishra lay, the curtain-rope made fast to a copper bracelet on his

waist. If by chance she could cross the watch-dog's form to the gardens

beyond and clamber down the brick-built mound, she still must face the

barrier of the city wall or the brazen gates closed fast in the hours of

night. True, bribery of the sentinels might buy a path to the

river-bank, whence swimming the Tigris would be as play to the daughter

of Derketo; yet, one false step--one virtuous fool who scorned to barter

honesty for coin--and Huzim might wait among the lily beds in vain.

Full many a wakeful hour Semiramis stared through the opening in the

roof, with eyes which followed not the shimmering stars, nor the chariot

of Ishtar rolling down the sky. To her troubled brain came a thousand

daring plans, each smiling hope, each ending in a jeer of mockery, till

her head grew hot, and anger rose to devour her in its might. What! Was

she, the child of gods, to be balked at every turn, when love cried out

and Menon battled with his fate alone? Nay, by the breath of Gibil,

this thing was not to be! Gold she had none wherewith to buy release,

nor jewels to tempt a captor's lust for wealth; and yet-- Of a sudden

Semiramis laughed aloud, till the fair Sozana stirred, awaking with a

cry.

"Nay, child, 'tis naught," the Syrian whispered, as she stroked a

trembling hand. "Hush, sweet; I did but dream, and the spirits of the

night have brought me words of wisdom and of peace."

* * * * *

The eunuch Kishra sat beneath a palm, his mind a prey unto vexious

thought. He was hideous to look upon, with a bloated paunch, a

thick-lipped mouth, and crafty eyes which peeped from their pouch-like

rims. Long had he served in the household of the King, and now was

chief of the palace-guard and warden of the chambers where the women

dwelt. When Ninus marched to Bactria, the rearward wing of the palace

had been sealed, and, together with the gardens, was set apart for

Sozana and Semiramis, while Memetis, the Egyptian hostage, was confined

in a distant court, in charge of an under-chief. Now the Princess had

pined for the presence of him she loved, and sought by bribery to have

him brought to her; yet Kishra feared the wrath of Ninus, and naught

would move him. Sozana then contrived, through her tire-maid Nissa, to

bribe the guard who paced before the Egyptian's door, and in secret this

maiden bore many a tender message to and fro, till she came at last to a

grievous end.

Kishra once marked her stealing from a shadowy passage-way, and on the

morrow he lay in wait, following upon her heels and listening while

Memetis whispered with the maid. In the knowledge of being thus

befooled, so great was his rage that he fell upon Nissa and slew him

with his sword, too late repenting the folly of his deed. With the

Princess he sought to excuse himself, but for once Sozana forgot her

gentle mien and rose in wrath.

"Dog!" she cried, "your life shall pay for the murder of this child, for

I swear by Asshur to see you crucified upon the garden wall."

Now the eunuch knew that Ninus loved his daughter utterly, and at her

pleading, would surely nail him to the mortar between the bricks; so he

groveled at her feet with tears and prayers, beseeching that she speak

no word on the King's return; yet the Princess spurned him with her foot

and refused to heed, till Semiramis spoke softly into her ear, then the

maiden's cheeks grew red again with a rosy flush.

"Kishra," she answered, "I will spare your worthless life, yet exact a

price therefor. Memetis shall come each morning to the garden here,

and, beneath your sight, remain till the evening hour. Do this, and

silence holds my tongue. Refuse, and the god of darkness claims you for

his own."

Thus it came to pass that the eunuch, in his dread of being crucified,

suffered Sozana to have her will, albeit, at very sight of the Egyptian,

his blood became as water in his veins. If Ninus learned that Memetis

came each day to the women's dwelling-place, short shift would the chief

of guards receive, and Ninus was prone to beset the passing of a man

with pain. Thus Kishra roasted betwixt two fires of woe, and because of

all these things he pondered much upon his lot, and his sleep was

fraught with evil dreams.

As he now sat pondering beneath the palm, Semiramis and Sozana talked

with Prince Memetis on a distant garden-seat. This oft' occurred, yet

now there was somewhat in their manner which annoyed the eunuch's

thoughts, for they whispered, with their heads held close together,

while ever and anon they glanced to where Kishra sat, and laughed as at

some merry jest. So the eunuch waxed suspicious of their murmurings;

yet, when he came toward them, they straightway ceased to smile and

began to speak of the garden birds, the flowering plants, or the heat of

the mid-day sun. Throughout the day they counseled among themselves in

secret, with fingers upon their lips and many a swift, mysterious sign,

till Kishra sweated because of curiosity.

All night he cudgeled at his brain for means by which to overhear their

words, and ere the dawn he bethought him of a plan. Behind the

garden-seat, whereon the conspirators were wont to loll, was a muddy

fish pond surrounded by overhanging shrubs; and here the eunuch

submerged himself, with his chin upon the bank, his fat head covered by

a mass of matted vines. In this retreat he waited for a weary space,

yet the plotters came at last, seating themselves a spear's length from

the listener's open ears.

"Hast found a messenger?" Sozana asked, in a voice subdued.

"S-h-h-h! Have a care," the Syrian cautioned, with a finger against her

lip; "the fox is listening, perchance. Keep watch, Memetis, lest he

steal upon us suddenly."

Kishra grinned from his covert in the pond, but gave no sign; then

Semiramis drew from her bosom the little fish of malachite which was

bought from the merchant of Phoenicia.

"Of a truth," said she, "the messenger hath been found, and under

Kishra's very nose. Two nights he waiteth in the street below, till I

give him warning by a night-bird's cry and cast this trinket from the

garden wall. See! I have marked it with a secret sign, for proof to my

lord in Bactria that the runner speaketh truth."

"Ah!" sighed Sozana. "And, seeing it, he will come to thee?"

"Aye," returned Semiramis, with a smile of joy, "as fast as Scimitar can

bear him on his way. Upon his coming, then will I escape from Nineveh,

and with my dear lord cross the Tigris, where we dig our buried treasure

from the earth, and--"

"Treasure!" cried Memetis. "Nay, of this thou has spoken naught

before."

"Hush!" begged Semiramis, clutching at his arm. "Methought I marked a

movement in the shrubbery. Go see, Memetis, for Kishra would give an eye

to learn of what I tell."

The Egyptian rose and beat about the undergrowth, but found no sign of

him who watched, for the eunuch lay as a dead man in the pond, scarce

breathing, though his heart was pounding in his breast. A treasure!

This, then, was why the plotters whispered secretly. Fools! The fox's

teeth, perchance, might sink beneath the feathers when he snapped.

"'Tis naught," the Egyptian made report, as he came once more to the

garden-seat. "Say on, Shammuramat, for none can overhear."

"Mayhap," the Syrian laughed, "it were wiser that I held my tongue, yet

ye who love me will ever be discreet. When we journeyed from Azapah to

the court of Ninus, I bore a store of jewels in a leathern sack; and,

knowing not if the King would smile or frown, I buried it on the river's

further bank against a time of need. Ah, Sozana, thou who loveth gems,

shouldst look upon this store! There are pearls from India, rubies from

beyond the Sea of the Setting Sun, blue girasols and the opals of the

Nile, zircons gleaming as the eyes of Belit shine, amethysts, and corals

carven in the forms of birds and beasts. Tyre, Sidon, and the far off

Heliopolis have helped to heap this hoard. With half a kingdom might be

bought, yet now it lyeth hidden in a bed of river mud."

The Princess sighed, and Semiramis pinched her dusky cheek, promising to

keep the choicest gem of all as a wedding gift for the little daughter

of Assyria.

"Nay," Sozana smiled, "'tis not for the gems I sigh, but because of a

loved one who would depart from me. Why, sweet, wouldst thou do this

thing?"

Semiramis looked thoughtfully upon the earth and stirred a lizard with

her sandaled foot.

"Dost remember the merchant of Phoenicia who was here three days agone?

He told me of my home in Ascalon. Since then I yearn for the smell of

my dew-moist hills, for the reach of the valleys, and my sweet, cool

lake which sparkleth in its bed of rocks. The water, Sozana!--and here I

look upon a tepid spring--a fountain fed by cisterns on the palace roof.

Downward this water floweth, to trickle weakly from the earth, while

eunuchs gather it in skins and bear it back upon the roof again. Dear

Ishtar, what a flout to Nature's pride!"

For a space the three sat silent, then the Egyptian hostage asked:

"And if thou wouldst fly with Menon unto Ascalon, what then would chance

to Kishra when the master cometh from his wars?"

Semiramis laughed softly.

"Poor Kishra! In truth he sleepeth on the horned cap of Bel. The

master knoweth much concerning his servant's treachery, and hath sworn

to hang him from the highest tower in Nineveh."

There were ripples in the fish pond, but the plotters gave no heed.

"It cometh to me," Semiramis laughed again, "that this eunuch will

gather up such treasure-store as may be wrung from those who serve him,

and fly to some distant land ere Ninus nail him to the city gate. A

villain is he, yet none may say that Kishra be a fool."

For a space they argued strategems of escape from the palace walls, and

of the journey unto Ascalon, then the three arose, and, chattering,

wandered down the garden path.

From the fish pond Kishra crawled, with an evil grin upon his face, and

made his way by stealth along the wall, a stream of muddy water dripping

from his muddy robe.

From a vine-clad arbor by the fountain's pool, Semiramis watched him

creeping through the trees, and smiled.

"Of a truth," she murmured, happily, "the poison in his blood will work;

aye, even as a raisin in a skin of vinegar."

CHAPTER XIX

THE STRATAGEM

With Kishra it came to pass as Semiramis had prophesied, for a poison

worked within his veins till he sickened and knew no peace. Hour by

hour he squatted upon the earth, while the words of the Syrian burned

into his heart:

"_The master knoweth much concerning his servant's treachery, and hath

sworn to hang him from the highest tower in Nineveh!_"

In sooth it were wise to hide away in some secret place where the tramp

of Assyria's hosts was but an echo down the wind, and India offered many

a safe retreat. Yet, one grown lazy at a post of power revolts at the

thought of poverty and toil, for the cup and a savory dish were as musk

to the eunuch's nose. If he could but lay his hand on the treasure of

Semiramis! To dwell in plenty and in ease! To swing the lash above the

backs of a hundred slaves! Ah, this were peace! These jewels lay hidden

in a leathern sack--a sack concealed in a bed of river mud. Mayhap, if

craft were exercised--! Mayhap!

Long Kishra crouched, with burning eyes, with parching lips which he

moistened with a restless tongue, while the raisin worked in a skin of

vinegar. To his brain came many a cunning scheme which faltered not at a

stain of blood, till the sun-lit garden reeled before his sight, and the

pebbles in the path were as a million precious gems which mocked his

greed. Then Kishra slept, to dream of being crucified on the brazen

gates of Nineveh.

When night was come the eunuch set a guard in the streets below, with

commands to seize on all who loitered in the shadow of the wall; then he

hid himself and lay in wait.

Through the garden stole Semiramis, clothed in a sombre robe and bearing

the fish of malachite now wrapped in a veil and bound with cords. She

skirted the fountain and bent her steps toward the east, where fewest

sentries paced the parapets, and here she paused. Kishra rejoiced that

Habal followed not at the Syrian's heels, for the eunuch's scent would

speedily have caused a warning growl; yet now the spy had removed his

sandals, and his cat-like tread fell, noiseless, on the trail.

Close in the shadow of the wall, Semiramis raised her voice in a

night-bird's cry. For a space she listened. An answering cry came

faintly back, then she raised her packet to fling it across the wall;

but behind her Kishra rose, caught the uplifted arm and wrenched the

amulet from her grasp.

With a smothered cry, Semiramis wheeled upon him, her eyes two pools of

fury, while a storm of passion bubbled to her lips.

"Hound! give back my own. What! Am I, the spouse of Syria's Governor,

to be tracked like a pilferer through the night? Have done! Give o'er

my packet and begone!"

So fiery was her mien that Kishra took a backward step, drawing a dagger

from his belt and presenting its point against attack.

"Not so," he answered, tauntingly. "When captives send forth messengers

to Bactria, a palace warden risketh the hazard of his head."

The woman started. What if the eunuch had overheard her whisperings and

was advised of all? Yet, how could it chance, when Memetis had watched

on every hand. So Kishra read her thoughts, for anger departed from her

tongue, and in its place came a tone of craft:

"'Tis naught, good Kishra. 'Tis naught, I swear, save a message to my

lord--a token that all is well at Nineveh--an amulet--the little green

fish which the merchant of Phoenicia sold. See, Kishra. I pray you

break the seal."

The eunuch laughed.

"True," he nodded, "'tis but a fish, and being but a fish, can wait for

a moon till the stores of grain be dispatched to the King at Zariaspa.

Thy message shall journey with the guard."

"Nay," she reasoned, "these wagon-trains are slow, and my haste is

great. To-night must it go, or to-morrow, else my runner will come too

late."

"Ah!" grinned Kishra. "Then perchance thy lord in Bactria will reward

this runner for his haste."

"Aye," replied the Syrian, "even as you shall be rewarded if you cross

me not."

"The price of broken faith is large," said the eunuch, artfully. "How

much?"

"A purse that is weighted to its very throat."

He laughed in scorn and turned away, but Semiramis caught his robe with

a swift, detaining hand.

"Listen," she urged; "if the price be small, then will I add to the

purse another purse and such ornaments as are mine--even to the pearls

that rim my sandals round."

Kishra still shook his head and withdrew his robe, retreating through

the garden, while the Syrian followed after him.

"What, then?" she pleaded, and sighed in hope to see him pause.

For a moment he pondered, then, leaning forward till she felt his breath

upon her cheek, he whispered, hoarsely:

"_The leathern sack of gems!_"

Once more she started, yet controlled her voice, answering in a tone of

wonderment:

"A leathern sack of gems? In truth I know naught of it. As Belit

liveth, your words are the words of foolishness."

"True," grinned Kishra; "no treasure is hidden on the river bank, nor is

there a garden-seat before our eyes, nor a fish pond near at hand where

a man may hide his body beneath the scum and harken unto whisperings."

At his taunting speech Semiramis raised her fist as if to dash it in his

evil face, then let it fall beside her, while she sank upon the garden

seat in bitter tears. The eunuch for a space stood silent, for well he

knew the value of a bridled tongue, so he waited for her heart to battle

with her mind and conquer it.

"Give me this sack," he said at length, "and thy runner shall go

unharmed."

"Nay," sobbed Semiramis, "a purse--no more."

"A half," urged Kishra, but she shook her head, again repeating her

offer of the purse.

"A third. Think, mistress, vast riches will be left to thee, and a

third is little." She made no answer, and a light of cunning crept into

his eyes. "All might I have if I willed to serve thee ill, for I know

the spot on the river bank where--"

"_Liar!_"

The Syrian once more faced him, trembling in her wrath.

"No eye save mine can find the hiding place, though it sought till the

sun is cold. Who, then, shall point the way for thieves?" She laughed

derisively. "Shall I, Shammuramat, go forth--disguised, perchance, as

some kitchen wench--at the heels of a sexless beast? Nay, not till

Nineveh hath rotted from the plain!" Again she laughed and snapped her

scornful fingers in the eunuch's face. "Safe by the river my treasure

lieth--a treasure for which the King might barter half his power--yet

not one gem shall fall into your grasp. Go out and hunt the Tigris,

from the mountains to the sea. Dig! and may Gibil damn you for a fool!"

She drew her robe aside, as though she passed some thing of pestilence,

and strode away, while Kishra came pattering meekly after her. His

avarice had over-shot the mark, and failure gnawed his bowels with the

teeth of fear.

They now had reached the fountain's pool where the palace torches

glimmered through the foliage, casting strange shadows upon the earth

till the garden seemed thronged with myriads of dancing ghosts. Here

Kishra put forth his hand and grasped a fold of the Syrian's simar.

"Heed me," he begged, and as Semiramis swung angrily about, he began

once more to bargain for the gems. "Be patient, mistress, for my needs

are sore, and I, too, would escape from Nineveh, even as thou and thy

lord will fly to Ascalon. Give me but a little part of this treasure

store and I swear to aid thee with an aid none else may give."

Semiramis pondered thoughtfully.

"Fling my packet from the wall and I promise you a part."

But the man was not to be deceived by slippery promises.

"Nay; when the gems are in my hand, then shall the fish of malachite be

given unto thy messenger."

Their horns were locked again. Yet, a moment since, when the Syrian had

cursed him in her scorn, her words had left a maggot in his mind.

"What!" she had demanded. "Shall I, Shammuramat, go forth to point the

way for thieves--disguised, perchance, as some kitchen wench?" Ah, if

he could but bend her pride, how simple would be the rest!

"Listen," he begged, with deep humility. "In the hour of stress we

stoop to many things. What harm if the lady Shammuramat conceal her

beauty beneath an humble cloak and fare with Kishra to the river bank?

By boat we may cross, returning ere the night is old, and none would be

the wiser, for the city gates are free to me."

"No!" declared Semiramis, with a gesture of disdain. "I trust you not,

nor will I leave the palace mound, though you prayed till dawn."

Her speech was firm, yet in it the eunuch marked a sign of wavering, so

he urged his case with a beating heart:

"The gems once buried in the garden here, we wait in peace till Menon

cometh to take thee hence, and for a third of this treasure store a

friend is made, where an enemy might balk thy every move."

His words were words of wisdom, yet the Syrian frowned in doubt, while

her sandal tapped impatiently on the graveled path.

"What will it profit," the tempter asked, "if wealth be stored away,

when he whom thou loveth shall die in a distant land?"

"What mean you?" cried Semiramis, with a gasp of fear, and Kishra drove

the nail:

"If the fish of malachite, with the message which it beareth, shall go

into Bactria, coming not to Menon, but to the King's own hand, then in

truth thy lord may suffer grievously."

At his thin-veiled threat the woman quailed, while terror leaped into

her eyes.

"Nay--nay," she pleaded, clinging to his arm, "'twere cruel to do this

thing. Be merciful, good Kishra, and I give a tenth."

The battle was won. The eunuch could scarce restrain his joy, for in

his heart an evil plan took root. The treasure once dug from the river

bank, the body of Semiramis should fill the hole; yet, lest suspicion

rise, he wrought by subtlety, grumbling at the smallness of his pay.

"And my messenger," Semiramis demanded, "what of him? Two days will he

wait--no more. Alas, we will be too late!"

"Then come with me to-night," breathed Kishra, biting at his nails.

The Syrian wavered, her will tossed back and forth on the shields of

doubt and love, till Kishra hinted at further ills to Menon; then her

spirit broke. Trembling from head to heel, she agreed to go, but laid an

oath upon him, and sought to bind him with a thong of bribery.

"Kishra," she faltered, "I have promised you a tenth. Be faithful and I

give a greater part. Dost swear to guard me from every harm and bring

me in safety to the palace once again?"

In the gloom the man smiled wickedly, yet gave his pledge; then

whispered into her ear:

"Go to thy chamber, and when the princess sleepeth, creep forth and join

me at the garden-seat. An hour must pass, for I send a messenger to the

river shore to find a boat. A cloak will I have for thee, and pigment

wherewith to stain thy skin, lest the keepers of the gate should marvel

at thy comeliness. Go now, and count on Kishra as a servant faithful to

the end."

For a moment more she lingered, faltering; then bowed her head and

passed from the garden with a weary tread.

In the sleeping-chamber, Sozana drew her down beside the couch, asking

in whispered mirth:

"Didst hear my answer to the night-bird's call? How fareth the jest with

Kishra?"

"It worketh," breathed Semiramis into a tiny ear, "for the son of fools

will journey to the river bank and dig for dreams. Sleep, dear one, and

to-morrow we may laugh aloud."

Long lay Semiramis, staring through the opening in the roof, while she

waited for sleep to kiss Sozana's eyes. Her bosom heaved; her breath

came hot, impatient, from her lips. If all went well the city would

soon be left behind, and the gardens of Ninus would be but a haunting

memory. How sweet to snap the bonds of dull captivity and face such

crouching dangers as the darkness veiled! And yet, a sorrow came to

share the treasure of her joy. The Princess and Memetis thought her

plan was but a jest whereby to trouble Kishra's peace of mind; and

to-morrow they must mourn her as one who slips away into the great

unknown and leaves no trace. Again, came a sharper pang for a friend

deserted--one who would grieve as none other save her lord might

grieve--for Habal, too, must be left behind.

Her hand stole out from the couch's edge and fell upon him in a fond

caress, while Habal licked the hand, and his tail beat happily upon the

tiles. Then Semiramis drew him up to her, and wept, with her face deep

hidden on his shaggy breast.

* * * * *

The Princess slept. Semiramis arose and moved in stealth toward the

door; yet she paused on the threshold, for her dog came creeping at her

heels.

"Down, Habal, down!" she whispered, struggling with her tears, and the

dog obeyed, though he whined because of impending evil--a sense which is

keen in the hearts of beasts, and is passing strange.

In the garden all was still. Semiramis crept to the appointed place

where the eunuch waited, eager to begone. She smeared her hands and

face with pigment, donned a slave's simar, and hid her flame-hued hair

beneath a ragged hood; yet, when all was ready, she hung back,

trembling, till Kishra's patience broke, and he longed to urge her on by

blows.

The door of bronze, which pierced the garden wall, was opened by a

sentry who saw but the eunuch and a kitchen wench with a basket upon her

head. Oft had he seen the like before when Kishra went forth in search

of dainties for his pampered appetite; so when the door clanged sharply

at their backs, the sentry once more nodded at his post.

As the street was reached Semiramis well-nigh swooned for joy, and vowed

a gift to Ishtar should the city gates be passed. In silence they began

to walk, when of a sudden each started at the sound as of a body falling

from the palace mound. They paused, but naught was heard or seen, so

the two set out again.

Westward their course was laid, past many a booth where women laughed,

and crafty hucksters lured them on to buy; past a teeming market-place,

for Kishra went boldly in accustomed paths, lest marauders spring upon

him from some darkened alley-way. The place was a place of noises,

lights and evil smells, of leering, besotted crowds who knew the eunuch

and gibed him because of the woman at his side. The Syrian's blood

burned hotly in her veins, till she yearned to tear the jesters with her

nails; yet wisdom whispered, so she laughed in the manner of an

easy-virtued kitchen wench, and went her way.

And now the booths were passed, and they came at length to the city wall

with its mighty gates of brass. Here fortune once more favored them, for

a band of belated horsemen came clattering in, the riders nodding on

their weary steeds; so Kishra whispered with the captain of the gate,

slyly pressing a coin into his palm; then, as the keeper turned his

back, the two slipped by and went unnoticed out of Nineveh.

In silence the treasure-seekers crossed the plain till they came to the

river bank. Here a boat was found in charge of an under-keeper's boy

who stretched out his hand for pay, then straightway disappeared. Kishra

produced a digging tool from beneath his cloak, laid it beside him on

the beach, and began to unloose the boat; and while he was thus

employed, Semiramis cast a lingering glance at the city wall that loomed

against the sky, so black, so stern, with its monster towers which

seemed to stand on guard like giant wardens of the night.

As she gazed, her heart grew sad again--sad for the little Princess

dreaming on her couch, and because of Habal, watching for the mistress

who would come not back to him.

She sighed and turned; yet, turning, felt a cold nose thrust into her

hand; then with a cry of joy Semiramis fell upon her knees, her arms

clasped tight about the neck of the faithful dog. She remembered the

sound of a body falling from the palace mound; 'twas Habal that had

leaped to the street below, where he lay for a space with the breath

dashed out of him, then hobbled along her trail with a broken paw. At

the city gate he had darted between the legs of the horses filing in,

and now crouched, panting, at the Syrian's side, to receive caresses, or

reproof because of his disobedient love.

Now the coming of Habal proved a check to Kishra's plan of murdering the

woman when her treasure was in his hands; so, cursing, he snatched up

his digging tool wherewith to slay the beast; but Semiramis sprang

between them, furious as a mother who defends her child, while the dog

rose, snarling, eager for Kishra's blood.

"Lay but a finger tip upon him," the mistress cried, "and you hunt alone

on the further shore! Have done! The dog is wounded, and with us he

shall go!"

Kishra paused. Full well he knew the risk of trifling with a woman's

whims. It were better to humor her in this little thing than to hazard

all ere the gems were in his clutch; so, grumbling, he cast his digging

tool into the boat and made ready to depart. The craft was small, and

rude of shape, yet would serve to bear them safely to the other side;

and when Semiramis and Habal had settled in the bow, Kishra with his

paddle pushed out into the stream.

"Whither, mistress?" he asked in a muffled tone, as though he feared

some lurker on the bank might hear.

"To the lily beds in line with the city gate," the Syrian whispered,

with a hidden smile, while she tore a strip from her nether garment and

bound it on Habal's broken paw.

For a space they were silent, and, as the boat slipped forward in the

gloom, dim voices of the night came floating to their ears--to the

woman, sweeter than a zittern's softest strain. She listened to the

river's droning hymn as it worshipped on its way to the Sea-god's

shrine, and the deep-toned song of frogs from a reedy marsh. She heard

the lisp of the paddle in the yellow tide, a heron's echoed cry, and the

far, faint call of sentries from the battlements of Nineveh.

On the heart of Kishra these voices cast a spell of fear, chilling the

fever of his greed which till now had urged him on. Why should the

Syrian be overjoyed to greet her dog if she thought to return ere the

dawn had come? Perchance she laid some snare to trip his feet, and

would fly to Ascalon, cheating him of his wealth so coveted. The

treasure! Mayhap no gems were hidden there at all, and hers was but a

trick to lure him to his death.

A thousand terrors trickled from out the gloom; they swam through the

waters, climbed into the boat, and lay upon him heavily. Of a sudden

the traitor paused, with his paddle across his knees.

"Mistress," he asked, "what proof have I that no enemy lurketh beside

the lily beds, to fall upon me when we reach the shore?"

"None," replied Semiramis. "He who would dig for leathern sacks, must

dare such dangers as the night-gods send. Yet, if yours be a coward's

heart, turn back, for it cometh to me that a tenth is usury." She

smiled again, and bent to her restless dog: "Down, Habal, down! What

troubleth thee?"

The boat now floated in the middle of the stream, and ere Kishra began

his paddling once again, his fears were confirmed by the actions of the

dog. Habal had risen, sniffing at the air. On the western breeze he

caught a scent, and his bark rang out till the echoes rolled from shore

to shore. A friend was near at hand, and the dog gave joyous tongue.

For a moment Kishra sat staring at Semiramis, while through his evil

brain shot the knowledge of his own credulity. From the first she had

gulled him, luring him to lie in a muddy fish pond, harkening unto

whisperings. No runner waited for her fish of malachite. Her

tremblings and her tears were but a mask. Even in her well-feigned fury

she had fed him with designs for his own undoing, and he, in his gross

cupidity, had eaten of the fruit of fools. No treasure lay hidden on

the river shore, but enemies who smiled and waited for their own.

Mad with terror, Kishra spun the boat about, but, in his over-strength

of fear, the paddle snapped, and Semiramis laughed aloud. Helpless he

sat, a victim to this gloating witch who befooled him with her

guile--he--Kishra, warden of the King, who dared not return again to his

post of ease. Then fury took him utterly. He seized on the digging

tool, arose, and swung it high above his head in the thought to brain

her at a blow.

"Devil," he snarled, "thou hast tricked me with a lie!"

Down came the implement, but not upon the Syrian, for Habal had leaped

at Kishra's throat, and Semiramis overturned the tossing craft.

For an instant all was darkness, fraught with fear; then the man rose,

gasping, clutching at the boat. A spear's length away he spied a foaming

swirl, where Semiramis flung high her arms and disappeared.

Then the river again took up its droning hymn; the sentries called from

the distant battlements; a dog's head rode the waves as it pointed to

the westward shore, and a boat went spinning down the Tigris, while

Kishra clung in terror to its slippery keel.

CHAPTER XX

THE FLIGHT

"Ho, Huzim!" called Semiramis, as she gained a footing on the river mud

and splashed through the shallows where the lilies grew; and Huzim, with

a cry of greeting, stretched forth his hands to draw her up upon the

bank.

"Art safe?" he asked. "No hurt hath come to thee? Of a truth I

rejoiced at the voice of Habal, yet close upon it came a sound of

tumult, and my strength forsook me utterly. See, mistress, I tremble

still, for the night hath brought a terror to my heart."

In his joy the faithful servant, who would have dared the anger of the

gods themselves to shield Semiramis, sank down and clasped her knees, to

weep as a child might weep.

"Nay," laughed the woman, with a gentle hand upon his straight black

locks, "'twas naught indeed save a plunge and a joyous swim, for the

waters thronged about me with the kisses of old, remembered friends.

Up, Huzim! Bear Habal in your arms, for his leg hath received a hurt,

poor beast. And hasten! Yon apish eunuch whirling down the stream may

arise an outcry, bringing a troop of horse upon our trail."

The Indian arose, and raising Habal as his mistress bade him, strode

forward through the darkness, while she, in the joy of freedom, walked

happily at his side, wringing the water from her wet simar and

whispering of all which had come to pass. For a league they journeyed

westward till they came to a hillock crowned by trees, and here the

Indian bade his mistress wait, while he, himself, went onward to secure

their steeds which waited in a secret place in the wooded lands beyond.

"Keep watch," he urged, then filled his lungs with a hopeful breath and

vanished in the gloom.

Alone, the Syrian raised her eyes toward the sky and once more listened

to the voices of the night. The river's hymn was hushed; no sentry's

call rang out from distant Nineveh, and across the plains came only a

foolish wind that murmured among the trees. Yet other voices rose in the

heart of Semiramis, to cry aloud with every quickened beat. Menon!

Menon! they shouted, till the echo mounted to the burning stars, to

catch their flame and tumble back to the heart which sent it forth.

Thus cried Derketo, that mother whose passion stirred in the daughter's

blood, till her eyes grew dim in yearning tenderness. As a song it

sounded in her ears--a song of fire and love; yet with it rose a strain

more harsh, the voice of her unknown sire--perchance a war-god from the

Southern Seas. It rose in a stern command and was taken up on the

tongues of marching multitudes, in the snarl of the battle-horn, and the

rumble of charging chariots.

To the south lay far Arabia, whence peace might follow in the thread of

love; yet Semiramis stretched her arms toward the east where Zariaspa

sat, unconquered, on the plains.

From the darkness came Huzim on the back of a goodly steed, leading

another by its bridle rein. To the saddle-skin of each was bound a

food-sack, arms, and a woolen cloak to shield the body from the chill of

night. Likewise, for Semiramis, he had brought a brave attire, for

henceforth she must travel, not as a woman, but as a man; so, from a

screen of the hillock's trees, she discarded her wet simar and soon

stepped forth in the guise of a youthful warrior. From her shoulders

hung a linen tunic, belted and falling to the knee, while her limbs were

encased in heavier cloth, bound round with thongs. Her arms were bare,

and on her head sat a brazen helm, of a pattern worn by fighting chiefs

on the Syrian coast, its stiff rim lined with a veil of many folds.

With a laugh Semiramis leaped astride her steed, causing her dog to be

set before her on the saddle-skin, for their pace would be swift, and

Habal might not follow with his broken foot.

"See, mistress," whispered Huzim, coming to her side and stretching

forth his arm toward the south; "there lieth our road which leadeth by

devious ways to the desert home of Prince Boabdul, whence we journey at

my lord's command."

"Aye," the Syrian nodded, "'twas even so two moons agone, yet now the

world hath somehow gone awry, till Arabia no longer lieth in the south.

Come, hasten! that we catch this wandering land ere it shift again."

With another laugh she wheeled her steed and raced toward the north,

while for an instant Huzim gazed after her, his jaws agape in

wonderment; then he cursed, and spurred upon her track. For a space she

held the lead, till the Indian cut it down and at last stretched forth

his hand which closed on her bridle-rein.

"How now," he cried, when the steeds had come to a fretful stand, "what

madness wouldst thou do? Come, turn southward, for to Arabia we journey,

else Huzim must first be slain."

For the first time since the battle with the Kurds she marked a frown of

anger upon the servant's brow, yet little she reckoned of the wrath of

any man.

"Huzim," she answered, and her teeth shone white in the light of a

riding moon, "I know not what path is best for fools to take, nor if you

would hide in idleness beneath the desert's sands; but as for me, as

Ishtar hears my oath, I go to Bactria."

"But why?" he demanded, in a tone of keen despair. "Why tempt the gods

when wisdom pointeth out the way?"

Once more Semiramis raised her arms toward the stars, and her fists were

clenched.

"To join my lord and share the perils which are his; to wrest a loved

one from the toils which hedge him round about, or drive my hunting

spear through the body of Assyria's King!"

In vain the Indian pleaded; in vain he besought her with prayers and

tears to discard a plan so mad, but she paid no heed.

"What!" she demanded, "am I born of coward's blood? Nay; what man may

do, that also will I, a woman, compass; and, failing, the fault is mine

alone. Think," she argued, "if hiding seemeth good to you, then will we

lie concealed among the crags which overtop the plains of Bactria,

whence you, good Huzim, may creep by night into Menon's camp and guide

him safely to my side. Once joined with him, we journey where he wills,

though it be to Gibil or to Raman's thunder-halls."

Thus in the end the reluctant Indian gave in, and they rode toward the

north, though for a space he lagged behind in troubled silence, his chin

upon his breast. As he rode it came to him that his mistress had never

held a thought of flying to Arabia, but had curbed her tongue lest

wisdom move him to prevent escape from Nineveh. It was now too late to

husband wine when the skin was rent, so Huzim shook the anger from him,

and, with one last sigh of doubt, came up to the side of Semiramis.

For a league they held to the river bank, then forded at a shallow point

and travelled eastward swiftly till the night was gone. And thus they

fared for many days, boldly by night, and resting throughout the day in

close retreats, for they knew not if Kishra had perchance survived to

send out hunters on their trail. Poor Habal's paw healed quickly, and

soon he rode no more on the saddle-skin, albeit a moon went by ere he

ran upon four sound legs again; yet, even with a bandaged limb, the dog

served faithfully, and many a lurking danger came to naught by reason of

his warning growls.

And now they came into Media, and the fear of pursuit was lost; so

onward they pushed, avoiding the open roads. They passed through

trackless forest-lands, through verdant valleys and up again to the

crests of wooded hills, where at their feet the lands of foreign peoples

stretched far and wide, their dwelling places marked by coils of smoke.

Anon they skirted woodland villages, and, peering through a screen of

leaves, saw naked children sporting in the sun, their naked mothers

pounding grain with stones, while uncouth warriors drowsed at ease

beneath the shade. Once, on a hillside, they came full face upon a

hunter, bearing a forest pig upon his back, in his hand a spear. For a

space the man stared stupidly, then dropped his burden, cast his spear

at Huzim, and went shrieking down the slope. From stone to stone he

leaped, as leaps a mountain goat, the while he cried out shrilly to his

friends beneath; yet in his final plunge he bore no message save a shaft

between his shoulder blades.

"Of a truth," sighed Huzim, "'twas pity to slay the fool, yet wise,

perchance, for his tribesmen know not if we be an army or a single man.

Come, hasten, mistress, lest his friends be cursed with curious minds."

They hastened on, and for a space no other mischief came to trouble

them, though many evils stalked abroad by night and day; yet these were

passed because of Huzim's cunning woodcraft, and Habal's wit in scenting

peril from afar. Then, when the skin of Semiramis was tanned to a ruddy

brown, and the steeds were lean and weary from their toil, the

travellers neared the foothills of Hindu-Kush, to fall upon a grave

mischance. They had come to a forest's edge, where a sloping plain of a

league in width stretched out before them, ascending to the mountain

steeps beyond; and here the Indian counseled that they lie concealed

till the shades of night should fall, but Semiramis would have none of

it.

"Nay," she urged; "I burn to reach the mountain top for a peep into the

land of Bactria, and to know, perchance, if my lord still battleth

there. Come, Huzim, lest I leave a faithful friend behind."

The servant shook his head and galloped after her, yet his hope came

back again when the middle of the plain was reached and naught was seen

save a watchful kite that swung in the blue above. Then Habal wheeled

on the backward trail, and barked. From the forest left behind came a

score of riders who spread to right and left, then lashed their mounts

and advanced in a ragged line.

"'Tis even as I feared," growled Huzim beneath his breath. "Speed thee,

mistress! We yet may win to the hills in time."

But ere they had ridden twenty paces he was fain to draw his rein, for

out from a fringe of woods ahead another band appeared, to spread as the

first had spread, with an aim of closing in upon the fugitives. The

Indian unslung his bow, casting about him for a spot wherein to halt and

hold his foes at bay, but Semiramis smiled upon him and took command.

"Be not a child," she whispered. "Your shafts are useless, for these

our enemies outnumber us, and our steeds are spent. Obey me and speak

no word."

She drew her bridle, shielded her eyes from the sunlight's glare, then

waved her hand and dashed full speed toward the Bactrian troop.

"In the name of the gods--!" gasped Huzim, spurring after her; but she

laughed and, once more waved her hand.

Now the horsemen, marveling at the strangeness of this move, drew rein

upon the slope and waited till their quarry came to them. Outposts they

were whom Oxyartes set beyond the mountains, to watch all roads, to cut

off messengers, and to bring report of armies or of food-trains coming

out from Nineveh.

"Ho, friends!" laughed Semiramis, pausing in their midst and speaking in

the Bactrian tongue, a deal of which she had learned from Menon while in

Syria. "For the moment I feared ye were a herd of Assyrian swine. Who

leadeth here?"

A Bactrian youth dismounted and stepped before her, his fellows

gathering in a close-packed ring.

"How art thou called?" she questioned, looking straight into his eye.

"Dagas," he answered, with a bow and a smile of merriment.

The woman was fair to look upon and easy in her speech, yet spies were

ever prone to claim a friendship with their foes in a hope of deceiving

them; so the Bactrian smiled, and was not to be deceived.

"Ah!" sighed Semiramis, stretching her hand to him. "Then bear me wine,

good Dagas--the best--for to-day I have journeyed far and am athirst.

See, likewise, to our steeds and to my servant here, who--"

She paused, for now the chieftain laughed aloud because of her

impudence, while those about him joined in a roar of mirth; yet mirth

was turned to wonderment, when a gust of fury lit her eyes, and she

struck at the head of Dagas with a haft of her hunting spear.

"Fool!" she stormed, "is the sister of Oxyartes to be mocked by a

brainless dog?"

The shaft went home. The laughter died upon their lips; yet, ere their

startled senses woke again, Semiramis swept on:

"What! Know ye not that Babylon is in revolt? That Tyre and Sidon fling

aside the yoke? That Syria flies to arms and sends her armies forth to

crush King Ninus as a grain of corn? Does Bactria sleep, as sleeps

Assyria's lord, when Nineveh hath tumbled to the earth--a blotch of mud

upon the plains? Does Dagas know not that the hosts advance, with

horsemen countless as the forest leaves, with slingers, axemen, hordes

of Hittite charioteers, and a swarm of riders from the desert lands?"

She flung back her head and laughed. "O worms of ignorance! O sons of

fishes, knowing naught beyond their slimy pool! Go out and guard each

road--each mountain pass--lest fugitives slip by and cry disaster to the

King!"

She paused for lack of breath, and a buzz of confusion rose among the

men-at-arms; then, at their chieftain's questioning glance, Semiramis

spoke again:

"Five days must pass ere the vanguard cometh, yet I and my servant

hasten on to warn the King of Zariaspa; for when our warriors pour down

the mountain sides, then must Oxyartes sally forth and take King Ninus

in his rear."

Dagas knit his brows in troubled thought, then raised his eyes and

asked:

"What surety have I that thy words are the words of truth--that thy

tidings be not a trick to befool mine ears?"

"None," she answered, in majestic pride. "None save my word alone. If

thou doubtest, then hold me prisoner." Again she paused, to look upon

the youth in scorn. "Yet I warn thee, Dagas, that should a mischief

come of it, or I suffer by delay--by every god in heaven, thy flesh

shall puff in one great blister from the lash!"

Once more the Bactrian pondered, torn 'twixt duty and a fear of some

bold deceit, then he asked, as a final test:

"And how wilt thou reach the city when Ninus encompasseth it about in a

deep, unbroken ring? How scale the walls and bear thy message in?"

It was now the Syrian's turn to ponder, for on her wit hung fortune,

good and evil, balanced to a hair. To blunder meant captivity, death

perchance; to answer rightly was beyond her power; yet she faltered not,

and staked her all upon a single cast. She smiled upon Dagas, leaned

down, and whispered into his ear:

"_Why scale a wall when a message may go to Zariaspa by the secret

way?_"

The Bactrian started, glanced swiftly toward the north, and back to her

dancing eyes.

"What meanest thou?" he asked, and hung upon her words as one who waits

on death.

Once more Semiramis smiled upon him, stooping till her breath played

warm upon his cheek.

"Thou comely child," she murmured into his blood-flushed ear, "where

stores of food are sent for my brother's needs, there, also, may a

message find its way, though it float or fly."

This she delivered boldly, on the hazard of a guess, and Dagas fell upon

his knee and made obeisance, begging that she hold no evil memory

against him, in that he had harbored doubt.

"Nay," she answered him, "of all which hath come to pass I will make

report to Oxyartes;" then, as the Bactrian's cheeks went white, she

added, meaningly: "The King would know when his chiefs mix caution with

their zeal, else how shall he make a just reward?"

Dagas rose up in a flush of pride, and of vanity which ever follows

certain men of war.

"Command me," he cried, "and thy lightest wish shall be mine own

desire."

Semiramis paused, to look upon the earth in thought; then from her

finger she drew a jewel, placing it within his hand.

"Dagas," she enjoined, "when the conquering host hath come from out the

west, seek thou the King of Tyre, saying that she of the flame-hued

locks hath come in safety unto Hindu-Kush. In proof of thy words,

display this bauble before his eyes--then keep it for thine own." With

a radiant smile she checked his thanks and spoke again: "Ride southward

with all thy men-at-arms to guard the roads, lest Assyrian runners pass.

Nay, I need no guide to the Secret Place, for the way is known to me.

Now set us wine and meat, and then--farewell!"

The young chief hastened to do her bidding eagerly, in hope of the rich

reward from Oxyartes, though to his racing heart it seemed that in life

he could ask no higher gift than to bask in this woman's smile. So he

set them a feast, which being done, his guests arose. Henceforth they

must go on foot, for the mountain paths were such that horses might not

climb, so the steeds were left with Dagas and his followers. At parting

the Bactrian lingered, gazing with awe into the Syrian's eyes.

"Princess," he faltered, "in days to come I pray thee to hold my memory,

for the sword of an humble man is thine, be it drawn against enemy or

friend."

Thus Dagas spoke, yet little did he dream that in after years this love

of his would part a nation and its king.