King Ninus took council within himself, and was afraid. Menon, he knew

full well, was a seasoned warrior, one who even from the ashes of defeat

would oft' times snatch a brand of victory. What if he won to the

Bactrians' secret-place and returned unscathed? He would thereby add

more glory to his name and bring his master's design to naught. Nay,

Menon must pass from the sight of those who loved him best! What

chance, the like of this, might again arise, and when? Mayhap the lord

of the world must wait--alone--for the waning of many moons, while Menon

lay nightly at the side of Semiramis--and the thought was not to be

endured. By the spirit of Shamashi-Raman, the spirit of this man must

pass!

And yet King Ninus pondered, tossed back and forth by passion and the

haunting whisper-ghost of fear. Then he lifted his head and laughed.

It was not meet that the lord of all Assyria should whine at the altar

stone of circumstance.

"Therefore," he reasoned within himself, "will I twist the tail of

chance; for when the steed of Doubt be saddled, mount him, lest a rider

be left behind."

So it came to pass that Menon, ere he led the army forth, was summoned

before the King, and found him seated in the hall of Oxyartes, attended

by Neb and Ura, two tongueless eunuchs of giant frame and knotted thews,

whom Ninus had brought from the land of the Lower Nile. At right and

left of the royal seat they stood, awaiting the master's nod--a nod

which would be obeyed, though it asked the slaying of an enemy or

destruction to themselves; yet Ninus gave no sign to them as Menon bowed

before the throne. It had come to the King, in thought, that by plucking

his rival's wife from out his arms and sending him to death, mayhap the

wrath of the goddess Ishtar might work an evil unto him who wrought the

deed; therefore it were wise that Menon yield to the master's will,

though consent be won by bribery or the torture-chain. So Ninus smiled,

and spoke in a voice of honey mixed with oil:

"Son of my heart, it hath come to me that our needs demand a King in the

land of Syria; and because of thy deeds will I set thee up, to reign in

plenty, bringing glory to thy house and name."

Menon looked upon his master, marveling; yet at his heart suspicion came

a-knocking, even as a runner speeds by night to sound alarm from door to

door. He feared, yet knelt before his lord and spoke in gratitude; then,

rising at last, he took the bit of chance between his teeth, and asked:

"Who, lord, shall follow me to Syria and there remain?"

And Ninus answered him and said:

"An army of chosen warriors to hedge thee in safety round about--my

daughter Sozana to sit beside thee on a throne."

A silence fell. Each looked into the other's eyes, in measure of the

final cast; then Menon spoke a single word in answer:

"No!"

Again fell silence, till the monarch's cloak of gentleness was pealed

away, leaving him a brutish ruler over men--a ruler naked in his flame

of power--before whose passion the passions of lesser men must be

consumed and die.

"Heed well," he cried, and pointed a finger, trembling in spite of will,

"'tis better far to sit a throne in Syria than to rot and be forgotten

in the hills of Hindu-Kush. Choose, then, to live or die! Choose now,

for I tell thee this: though the arch of heavens fall, Shammuramat shall

be thy wife no more--but mine!"

For answer Menon set one foot upon the dais of the throne, and, curving

his spine, struck fiercely with a doubled fist. It sank into the

monarch's beard, and deeper, to the cruel mouth beneath; whereat King

Ninus reeled, and the great dim hall spun round and round in a misty

smear of light. Then Menon's sword came rasping from its sheath, for

he, too, looked through a blinding mist, though the mist was red; yet

ere he could smite, the eunuchs Neb and Ura fell upon him, dragging him

to the floor where they bound his wrists with thongs.

The King arose, though leaning dizzily against his throne. He wiped a

blood stain from his wounded lips and spoke, in a voice which was

strangely calm:

"Bear me this dog to a chamber beneath the citadel and nail him to the

wall!"

So the eunuch Neb went out and cleared the passage-ways of all who

lolled therein, while Ura covered Menon with a cloak and bore him on his

back to a distant chamber where the city cisterns were. Here they

stripped him of his armor and of all he wore besides, even to the little

fish of malachite; then, deaf to his curses, they pierced his hands and

feet and nailed him against the wall, where he hung in agony.

When this was accomplished Ninus came to view his handiwork. He looked

and his heart was glad, for now no more would this man rise up to steal

his fruits of passion or of power.

"Heed," spoke he; "renounce Shammuramat for evermore, and I lift thee

from the nails and heal thy wounds." Menon made no answer, and

presently the master spoke again: "To fling away thy life is but the

deed of a mindless fool, for I swear by the breath of Asshur thine eyes

shall look no more upon Shammuramat!"

"Liar!" cried Menon, and laughed in scorn--laughed, though a sweat of

anguish dripped down upon his breast; and the laughter enraged the King.

With his fingers he touched his eyes; touched, too, the dagger in his

girdle and made a sign to the eunuch Neb. Two thrusts, and the brain of

Menon wandered on a darkened road; then Ninus looked up and mocked at

the man impaled upon the wall.

"Who now," he asked, "will look upon Shammuramat? and who shall say that

the lord of Assyria speaketh falsely, even to a fool?"

He ceased; then Menon raised his drooping head and cursed his King in

prophecy:

"Thou spawn of hell! Laugh now in my hour of tears! Rejoice, ere the

hand of reckoning shall draw thy taunting tongue! Thou hast slain my

heart and let my body live! Slay, thou, the body, also, but the spirit

thou cans't not slay! 'Twill come to thee, this spirit, watching at thy

couch and board, watching through thy huntings and thy wars--through

days of waking and the nights of troubled sleep! 'Twill bay thy trail

of blood and lead the hounds of Ishtar to their kill! Laugh, then, O

lord of lies, and wait for Menon! Wait!"

The shrill voice ceased to ring throughout the chamber, and he who cried

in prophecy hung limp and speechless from the nails. The eunuchs

crouched, trembling, at the master's feet, and the master, also, was

afraid. Nor man nor beast he feared, yet if a spirit rode upon his

soul, full well he knew that the steed would race for Gibil's smoking

stalls; so the King took council within himself whereby to cheat a

ghostly rider of his mount.

"In truth," he mused, "if Menon liveth, his spirit may not wander from

its outer shell; and if it there remain, how, then, shall it follow me,

with a nose of vengeance snuffling at my trail? Again, should the woman

accuse me of his death, right well may I swear a guiltless oath while

his life be still his own."

Thus mused Ninus and washed his conscience of a stain, then turned to

his eunuchs in a sharp command:

"Lift ye this man from the nails upon the wall; restore his breath with

water from the cisterns, and his strength with wine. Bring garments

wherewith to warm his flesh, and a salve to heal his wounds. Guard ever

this doorway, bearing food and drink, for I charge ye that his body must

not die, but live."

So the King came up from under the under-chambers of the citadel and

caused a thousand torches to be set aflame; yet, even in the glare of

burning pitch, a shadow seemed to haunt him, with a low-hung muzzle

snuffling at his heels.

* * * * *

From the city gates went twenty thousand warriors, and in the van a spy

whose name was Akki-Bul, a man who knew the hills of Hindu-Kush and

would lead an army hence. Why, he fathomed not, yet wore the armor of a

chieftain and his sword, a chieftain's nether garments, while about his

neck, from a leathern thong, hung a charm of carven malachite. So,

pondering upon the strangeness of these things, proud Akki-Bul went

forth to spy the way, ten spear lengths in advance of those who followed

after him.

Through the opening in her tent Semiramis watched an army steal across

the plain and disappear into a valley's dip; then she slept, to dream of

her home in Ascalon, of Dagon's lake, of the creatures that swim

therein, and of Menon--with a little green fish of malachite that

nestled against his heart.

In a chamber beneath the citadel lay a sorely stricken man. In fever

and pain he lay, and cried aloud to the far, unlistening gods. With

tortured hands he groped on a darkened road and found no staff wherewith

to feel his way. His book of light was closed; the water from his cup

had spilled, and the glory of the world was gray.

* * * * *

The morning mists came writhing from their valley-beds, and the

Hindu-Koh loomed red through an opal haze. A drowsing desert shrank

from the heat to come, and the world awoke and yawned.

Now those who watched from the city wall, looked westward and were

amazed, for down the hill-slopes came a swarm of warriors, fleeing as

from the unclean boggards of an under-world; and after them ran other

men, smiting with sword and shaft, till the shreds of a death-torn army

came streaming across the plain. They poured through the city gate,

choking it with the inrush of a bawling crew, while many fell panting,

in the shadow of the wall; then Ninus, roused by a signal of alarm,

drove, raging, into the press. Half clad, he leaned from his rocking

chariot, lashing at all who came within his reach, cursing the cowardice

of men who brought a shame to Assyria's King.

Semiramis, too, awoke, and at the clamour of retreating men, her blood

ran chill and she trembled for her lord. In haste she clothed herself,

unmindful of her wounded knee, and limped to the city gates. She

yearned to question each passer-by, and dared not, because of a terror

clawing at her heart; so the daughter of Derketo crouched in a shadow of

the wall, with parching tongue and hunted eyes, waiting, listening for

the tidings which would blight the glory of her world.

King Ninus marked her coming, yet gave no sign, for now he had a part to

play, wherein he would befool the craftiest of women to whom the gods

had given breath and brain. He called aloud for Menon, but no answer

came, nor were there any knowing aught of him since the rout began; so

Ninus reviled them, swearing vengeance on all who had left their

chieftain to perish among the hills. He gave command that a mighty

force make ready for attack against the Bactrians, a force which he

himself would lead, in search for Menon, held prisoner or dead; then,

wheeling his chariot, drove swiftly to the citadel; and there, as he

lashed his armor on, he chuckled joyously, for a lion had learned the

wisdom of a fox.

From the shadow of the wall Semiramis groped her way toward her tent,

numb, tearless, and with a sense of wonder at the strangeness of her

grief. She seemed to look in pity, from afar, on this silent thing who

set a helm upon her flaming locks and a breast-plate on a breast which

now was dead. So the one Semiramis watched the other make ready for a

journey into Hindu-Kush; she saw the silent one take up her hunting

spear, mount on her chariot and drive to the city gate, where

she-waited, shivering, in the glory of a summer sun.

When the King came forth to find her waiting there, his heart misgave

him, for if Semiramis chanced to find the body of Akki-Bul in Menon's

armor, then in truth would the crust of Gibil's pit be lifted from its

fires. Therefore he sought to dissuade her will, saying that he himself

would accomplish all things, while she remained at rest till her wound

was healed; yet to his pleadings she answered naught, for to her his

words were meaningless and like unto the idle whisperings of rain drops

as they fell. She stood upon her chariot, gazing in silence out toward

the prison of the hills which hid her lord, and waited for Assyria to

move.

Then the King, in secret, gave command to all who followed him that if

any came upon Menon's body or the armor which he wore, no word of it

should reach Semiramis, because of her consuming grief; and those who

loved her, promised, and the army marched across the plains of Bactria.

To Semiramis came the faithful Huzim with a whispered word of hope. He

seated her on the chariot's floor and took the reins, while after them

trotted Habal, for the dog, perchance, might lead the seekers where the

cunning of man would falter on the trail. When the foot-hills were

reached the chariot was left behind; Semiramis rode an unharnessed steed

which Huzim led, and the toil of ascent began.

And now the slopes of Hindu-Kush awoke to the din of strife, for the

hill rocks swarmed with Bactria's fighting-men who loosened great stones

upon the climbers, or smote them with down-flung spears and whistling

shafts; and even as the voice of battle woke, so woke Semiramis from the

slumber of her grief. In her veins ran the blood of two great passions

which must ever rule the world--the passions of love and war--begotten

in the lust-lock of Derketo and a battle-god.

Thus a child of passion went raging through the hills of Hindu-Kush, and

where she might not climb, there Huzim bore her on his mighty back. At

her side fought Asharal and the chiefs of Babylon, while about them was

ever set a ring of the men of Nairi, those hairy mountaineers who sang

as they battled; yet now, because of Menon whom they loved, the

battle-chant was hushed upon their lips.

Upward they toiled, through valley and defile smiting their Bactrian

enemies on every hand, pursuing them from crag to crag, or cutting off

retreat; and where the foeman hid away in caverns, they were smoked

therefrom and slain. So Assyria came at last to the mountain-top,

surged through the pass and swept the slopes beyond, coming by night to

the source of the hidden river-bed, while the Bactrians fled to the

forest lands beyond, hiding in swampy glades where Ninus might not

follow them.

When morning was come and a force had been left to guard the mouth of

the river-bed, the Assyrian army once more breasted the mountain slope,

and on the eastern side began a search for Menon, though the task was

great. There were those who thought to find the spot whence the first

assault had come, yet, by reason of the darkness which had made the

marks on the mountain side seem strange, they found it not; nor might

they trace it by the bodies of the slain, for the second battle had

strewn the rocky wastes with dead, even as the field-man scatters grain.

For seven days the hunters combed the hills, while the sun poured down

in fury, and from the sky great birds of prey descended to their feast;

at approach they would reel away in lazy flight, mocking the seekers

with discordant cries, then settle to some other dread repast. So the

search went on in vain, and day by day the spirits of Ninus rose, for,

if Semiramis came not upon the corpse of Akki-Bul, the monarch's

treachery would lie forever with the lost; then came to pass a happening

which fitted the King's desire, even as a sword may slide into its

sheath.

The good dog Habal had hunted with his mistress and her slave, yet found

no scent to lead them on their quest; and now as he snuffled along the

edge of a precipice his footing gave beneath him, and, clawing at the

loosened stones, the dog went whirling down into the depth below. As he

fell, Semiramis cried out in pain and grief, for Habal she loved, with a

love which woman only may fathom or understand. Sorrowing, she commanded

Huzim to descend into the rift to learn if a spark of life remained

within her dog; so the Indian went down.

The way was grievous, and at the bottom he was forced to stone away a

flock of noisome vulture-birds; then he came upon Habal with the breath

of life dashed out of him. The Indian stooped, yet paused in stark

amaze, for the dead dog lay beside the body of a man--a man who wore

Prince Menon's armor and his broken helm; yet, because of heat and the

beaks of birds, none now might see therein a semblance of the hapless

Akki-Bul. Thus it seemed that, even in his death, a faithful beast had

led his loved ones on the trail of the master whom he loved.

So Huzim climbed up to Semiramis, and, sorrowing, gave into her hand

Prince Menon's sword, together with a little green fish of malachite

suspended on a leathern thong; and, seeing these things, her wails of

anguish echoed throughout the hills, for now she knew in truth that her

lord would come to her no more.

She would have clambered down to him, but Huzim dissuaded her, saying

that the steeps would cause her wound to open; and again, it were better

that she hold the memory of her lord in life than to look upon this

rotting thing below. So Huzim, with Asharal and the men of Nairi,

descended into the rift and left Semiramis weeping on the lip of the

precipice.

They dug a grave and laid therein the body of Akki-Bul, dropping their

tears upon it in the name of Menon, Prince of the house of Nairi; and

with him they buried Habal, as every faithful dog would yearn to sleep,

with his paws and muzzle resting on a master's breast. Above, among the

rocks, a thousand warriors watched, grim sons of battle and of blood,

yet children now in the grip of unselfish grief. Semiramis they loved,

because of the glory of the woman's flesh and the glory of her deeds;

her sorrows were even as their sorrows, so their hearts were sad within

them, and they wept.

Then down the mountain side went the army of Assyria, to the foot-hills

and across the hot brown plains, coming at last to the city of Zariaspa;

and in the lead went Ninus, a chant of mourning on his lips, a song of

passion in his heart.

Throughout the day Semiramis lay within her tent as one who is stricken

by a sword, and Huzim sat beside her, cooling her brows with water, and

driving the fever from her wound with ointment and pounded herbs. At

evening came the King, with words of gentleness, mourning with her at

the double loss of Menon and her shepherd dog; but she answered him and

said:

"Nay, lord, mourn not because of Habal, for in his death the gods let

fall a dew of comfort and of peace. In the rimless fields of the

over-world my Menon is not alone, for Habal's spirit hunteth at his

master's side."

Now if this thought brought peace unto Semiramis, no peace it brought

unto the King, for his cheek went pale beneath his beard. Since Menon

had hung upon the wall and cursed him, swearing to lead the hounds of

Ishtar on his trail, a dog was a dread abomination in his sight--a thing

to bay his memory and patter after him on ghostly feet.

When night was come he tossed upon his couch in troubled dreams,

watching a ghoulish army trail across the sky. Spirits they were of

those he had sent to perish in the hills of Hindu-Kush; and in their

lead flew Menon's spirit--with the spirit of a dog in leash. And the

King awoke and caused his torches to be lit.

CHAPTER XXVII

A PATH WHICH LED TO ITS STARTING POINT

King Ninus now rested from his war and disposed of the affairs of state.

He sealed a treaty with Oxyartes whereby all Bactria lay subject to

Assyria's rule, each city paying yearly tribute to the King. King

Oxyartes he took unto himself as a brother-chief, and in Zariaspa set up

as Governor of Tax a man whose name was Tiglath-Shul, a chieftain who

would likewise hold a force of warriors in command of the city wall.

When this was accomplished, Ninus brought before him the eunuchs Neb and

Ura, and charged them to guard the prison door of Menon, suffering none

to enter or learn the name of him who lay therein. Likewise he whispered

in the ear of Tiglath-Shul, saying that a Bactrian hostage was being

held in the keep below, and the head of a certain Governor would,

mayhap, be forfeit for those who meddled in the King's affairs.

Therefore the Governor took council with himself, refrained from prying,

and set a blight on all who were overcurious. Then Ninus, when other

weighty matters had been put in order, commanded that the armies of

Assyria depart on the homeward way.

Once more the marching host like a monster serpent crawling through the

dust, crept upward among the hills, through the Pass of the Wedge now

strewn with whitening bones, and down the rugged slopes beyond; through

forest-lands and the countries of those who dwelt among the rocks,

through Media ripening for a conquest by the King; scaling the Zagros

mountains, and coming at last unto Arbela where the army sat down in

weariness.

Throughout the journey Semiramis lay within her litter, holding speech

with none save Huzim who ever sat on guard, while the King, albeit he

yearned for a sight of her, restrained his ardor till her term of

mourning passed and her grief had spent itself.

"Because," he mused, "a fruit hath life so long as it hangeth on its

mother-branch. But once may this fruit be plucked--no more; take,

therefore, heed lest in plucking we find it green."

So the lion persevered in the wisdom of the fox and broke not upon the

seclusion of Semiramis; then, after a rest of twenty days, the army left

Arbela, marched northward across the river Zab and thence to the eastern

gate of Nineveh; and at their coming the people flocked to the city

walls, with songs of rejoicing for the conquerors, with love-lit eyes

for those who returned to waiting homes, with hunted eyes that watched

in vain for others who slept in the vales of Hindu-Kush. Thus it came

to pass that Nineveh was rent with joy and tears; for where the

thousands wept into the ashes of their hearths, the tens of thousands

steeped their hearts in wine, and laughed. Laughter and tears, entwined

in a close embrace, for the joy of a man is ever his neighbor's woe.

In the palace of the King there was likewise joy, much feasting and the

dance of timbril-girls; then Ninus, in the gardens, came upon Sozana and

Memetis who together had dwelt in happiness since the eunuch Kishra ran

afoul of fate. An infant had been born to them, so Ninus tore his beard

in wrath and gave his daughter in wedlock to the man; albeit he would

have surely slain the Egyptian had Semiramis not pleaded mightily.

"Heed," said she, "what profit in this deed of blood? What promise in a

babe left fatherless? See what a sturdy little warrior, who, as Asshur

liveth, hath the eye of Ninus and his very nose!"

Thus the wrath of the King grew less, as the wrath of man must ever grow

beneath the soothing subtleties of a woman's tongue. Then Semiramis

shut herself within her chamber, communing with none save Sozana and the

child; and thus through the life of seven moons she mourned for Menon,

sitting by day in the garden's shade, or at night on the palace roof,

seeking for peace in the rays of Ishtar and her sister stars.

Now Ninus, who loved her, grew impatient of her grief, and sought by

every art to contrive a wakening therefrom, yet in every pleasure set

for her he failed; then came a time when he must journey in India to

seal a covenant with that country's King. So he summoned Huzim who was

born of that land where the Indus runs, and spoke unto him, saying:

"Thy mistress pineth, dreaming in regret of things which even the high

god Asshur may not mend. Plead, therefore, with Shammuramat, urging that

she follow with Sozana in my train, and, perchance, the wonders of thy

native land may rouse her from her sorrows and her lethargy."

The Indian bowed before the King and promised, then sought his mistress

in the gardens on the mound. He found her, seated beside the fountain's

pool, feeding the fishes that swam therein, while in her hand she held

another fish--a little green thing of carven malachite suspended on a

leathern thong. This saddened Huzim, yet he spoke to her concerning

India, of the marvels of its mighty river and the game abounding on its

marshy banks; he told her of other game, strange beasts that made their

lairs within the jungle where hunters followed after them on the backs

of other beasts; and as he spoke, the eyes of Huzim glowed in joy and

his muscles quivered, even as the muscles of a battle-steed, for he

yearned for his native land, and his hope ran high that his mistress

might journey there.

Semiramis smiled in sadness, for she saw the hope in her servant's

heart, albeit she knew he would here remain at Nineveh through all his

days rather than part from those he served.

"Ah, Huzim," she sighed, as she laid a hand upon his mighty arm, "'tis

even as my good lord Menon spoke to me on many a day, for in all the

world thou art ever first in faith and love. Go, therefore, unto Ninus,

saying that I, Shammuramat, wilt journey in his train to the land of my

faithful Huzim, where the Indus runs and the sun is warm."

The servant wept in gladness, and would have kissed her feet, but she

raised him gently and bade him seek the King; so Huzim went out from

Semiramis, rejoicing, with the half forgotten songs of childhood

bubbling beneath his tongue.

Thus it came to pass that in royal barges, manned by boatmen of

Phoenicia, King Ninus and his train fared down the Tigris, even to the

point of its marriage with the Euphrates, and thence to the gulf beyond;

and throughout the journey Semiramis sat apart with her tiring-maids,

nor did the King pay court to her, but minded his own affairs in the

wisdom of the fox.

At the gulf's head they left their barges and climbed to the deck of a

mighty ship which rocked upon the waters till the King and all his court

were like to die of a sickness which came upon them; for Assyrians ever

hate the sea, and now their inwards turned in riotous revolt. The King

himself was assailed most grievously, for he groaned aloud in anguish,

beseeching his servants that they slay him and have done with woe; yet

the seizure passed at length, and after many days the great ship came to

rest upon the Indus, while its two score oarsmen dropped among their

chains, and slept.

At the river's mouth King Khama met his royal visitor, with much

rejoicing and the beating of wooden drums, and, after exchange of gifts

and courtesies, King Ninus and all his train were paddled in bobbing

reed-boats, till they came at last to Surya, the City of the Sun; and

here rare feasts were held and the covenants of peace were duly sealed.

Then followed more feastings, with toothful dishes, and a native wine

which provokes the heart to mirth, while before them came jugglers

performing deeds of prodigy, and madmen who mocked at death in a

snake-dance with the hooded cobra, till even Semiramis was stirred to

pleasure and amaze.

To those of Assyria were the sacred rites of India made manifest in the

temples of the fire-god Agni, and of Indra who ruled the open skies,

while priests made offerings of the moon-plant's milk, and melted butter

which they set atrickle on the altar stones. In the fastness of the

hills were viewed the shrines of the devil gods, where the wild-eyed

Khonds made sacrifice to Siva the Destroyer, or to Kali, the goddess of

dread iniquities, whose necklace was a string of human skulls.

When the guests were weary of sacred things, King Khama took them

hunting, whereat the heart of Ninus rose from out the dust, while

Semiramis smiled as Huzim gave into her hand a spear and an oddly

fashioned bow. Then for many days they trailed through swamp and

forest-land, slaying monsters in the thickets along the river shores, or

hunting tawny jungle-beasts from the backs of elephants. These

elephants, to Semiramis, were ever a wonder and a joy, because of their

strength and the wisdom in their little eyes; yet to Ninus they brought

no joy, for their motion recalled the heavings of a ship and took away

his zest of life and of all things contained therein. Therefore he

bestrode a steed, or met his game on foot and slew it in the glory of

his strength.

Thus Semiramis awoke from her lethargy of grief, and, albeit, she

sorrowed still, her blood ran quickly through her veins, while laughter

rose upon her lips and was not stayed; whereat the King was glad, and in

his gladness begged that she choose a gift from out the riches of this

marvelous land. She pondered thoughtfully, then voiced a desire so

strange that Ninus stared upon her and combed at his beard in

wonderment:

"My lord, I thank thee, and of thy bounty will ask a thousand sheaves of

reeds, with two score reeds in every sheaf thereof."

Now on the river marshes grew these reeds, to a heighth three times the

stature of a man, and were light of weight and strong; also their outer

rind was hard, so that fishermen fashioned boats of them, and the water

came not in. Likewise, so plentiful they were that a beggar might build

him a house of reeds and thatch his roof, or feed them to his fires.

Thus Semiramis chose a worthless seeming gift, when she might have

picked from the jewels of a wonder-land, yet when Ninus questioned her

concerning the folly of her choice, she laughed and would tell him

nothing of her thoughts; so the thousand sheaves of reeds were

dispatched to Nineveh, though the labor and the cost thereof was great.

And now came a final feast, with a parting from India's King, and the

train of Ninus faced its homeward way; albeit they journeyed not upon a

heaving ship, for the master swore by the thunder of the gods that

nevermore would he rive his belly on a thrice accursed sea. Therefore

they marched by land along the coast, hunting much game as they fared at

easy pace, till they came again to the Tigris where the boats awaited to

bear them on to Nineveh.

As they journeyed slowly up this stream, the King paid court unto

Semiramis, but at first she would answer nothing to his prayers. With

the death of Menon her heart had died within her breast, and never again

could she look with love on any man; yet, since the passion of love was

spent, it left in her heart full sweep for that other passion--the

passion of power--to wind the skein of destiny, or snap it as she would.

She yearned to say unto a nation, Go! and to another nation, Come!--to

shape the ends of the peoples of the earth--to cause them to bow into

the dust and worship one who could lift them up again. How better then,

could this passion of desire be wrought than in mating with Assyria's

lord? To barter one human body in exchange for dominion over all the

world! True, Ninus drove the chariot of state, yet she had but to

whisper in the driver's ear to turn the course of its plunging steeds.

If Ninus held the reins, a woman held the lash--and, by the smoke of

Gibil, she would lay it on!

Thus dreamed Semiramis, while about her the waters of the Tigris crooned

their chant of mystery; above, the great stars hung, and flung their

burning meteors across the sky; the marshes throbbed with the drone of

things invisible and though the gloom rose the vast black walls of

Nineveh.

Semiramis, weeping, clung still to a thread of memory--a thread which

stretched from a grave in the Hindu-Kush to the steps of Assyria's

throne; yet strand by strand it parted, till at last it snapped, and

into the Tigris her trailing hand let fall a little green fish of carven

malachite.

* * * * *

The great brown city woke to the thunder-throated voice of festival; the

princes of the world foregathered there in honor of the King who would

take Semiramis to wife. From every land they came, together with their

followers in arms, and Nineveh resounded with the shoutings of foreign

tongues. In the temples on every hill great fires were lit, and the

nostrils of the gods were filled with the smoke of sacrifice, while

Nakir-Kish and his swarm of under-priests slew flocks of cranes and

found in every one an omen of joy unutterable. Through the streets ran

youths and maidens twined with flowers, exchanging favors freely in this

gladsome hour when none need count the cost. The warriors might quench

their thirst at brimming tubs of wine, with naught to pay save shouts

for Assyria's Queen; so they drank to the verge of madness and fought

fiercely among themselves, for their hearts were glad.

Likewise, the forests and the fields were swept for meat wherewith to

feed the multitudes, for Ninus dipped into his treasures with a reckless

hand, even as men in the drunkenness of joy will ever squander all their

substance, regretting it sorely in the sober after-days.

In the palace, the wealth of kingdoms sank from sight through feastings

of costly foolishness, where jewels were baked in the very bread, and

the bidden guests would oft'times break their teeth thereon; albeit they

kept the jewels, smiling at their pain. Then the King, who was mad with

love, went forth and set Semiramis upon a chariot of gold, driving her

slowly through the streets, so that all might behold the glory of her

charms. He bade his people worship her, and as they knelt he scattered

treasures on their heads, till the worshippers vied viciously among

themselves, seeking this wealth in the whirling dust where they battled

with fists and nails.

At last came the wedding rites, and as Semiramis sat with Ninus on his

throne, the palace rocked with bellowing acclaim; then followed more

feasting, with the din of music, the songs of thickening tongues, and

all Assyria was glad save one alone. Through the reek of flaring

torches and the fumes of wine, a woman fled to the peace of the silent

roof; yet the echoes of joy came climbing after her, hounding her heart

with the memories of other days--the whisper-ghosts that would not die,

though crushed beneath a throne.

On her knees the woman fell, and flung her arms toward the dim,

unlistening stars.

"Oh, Menon, Menon," she cried aloud, "how empty is the world without the

solace of thy kisses on my breast!"

* * * * *

Thus it came to pass that the nursling of doves made a nest on Assyria's

throne. For a year she dwelt in the master's house, and bore him a son

whose name was Ninyas; albeit Semiramis never loved the child, who was

weak and petulant, of a slothful nature and a selfish heart--a son who

in after days would seek his mother's death, then reign in besotted

idleness and squander the strength of a kingdom built on swords.

Now Ninus loved his Queen, to the verge of madness, and naught was there

which he would not do to gladden her or indulge her whims; yet Semiramis

loved not the King, for in her heart rose ever the image of one man

alone--Menon the Beautiful--who dwelt with the dead in a valley of

Hindu-Kush.

Thus, since her passion slumbered with him who would wake no more,

ambition borrowed of love's desire and rode on a chariot of war. War,

red war! till the peace of remotest lands was rent by the screams of

battle-horns. Thus the kingdom of Assyria grew apace. The fathers of

men had fashioned a map of the countries of all the world; yet it fitted

not the fancy of Semiramis, so the War Queen changed it, with a finger

dipped in blood.

Where the fury of battle knotted its tightest snarl, there she would

drive her chariot, to leap at the throat of danger, breast the surf of

death, ride over it, and leave a crimson trail behind. And the warriors

bowed down and worshipped her, half in unknowing passion, half in awe,

forgetting the glory of the high god Asshur in the glory of a woman-god.

As she rode in her chariot of gold, so she rode in the hearts of men,

driving them on with a feather-lash, yet driving where she willed; and

Ninus became not jealous of her worship or her deeds, for the Queen was

his, and the glory of Shammuramat was, also, his.

As the years of war went by, she changed not in the beauty of form and

face, for her strange, unearthly charms remained with her, thus causing

all to wonder at her immortality; yet with Ninus it was otherwise.

Grizzled he grew; the furrows of age ran, straggling, across his brow,

and his great beard whitened, even as the coat of a battle-steed is

streaked with foam. There were moments when his wrath would burst all

bounds, without a cause therefor, and he seemed a man who harkened to a

whisper-ghost that hunted him and worried at his ears. Each year a

trusted messenger brought report from Zariaspa that Menon's spirit still

tarried in the body of the man; yet the master knew no peace throughout

his days, and a dog was ever hateful in his sight. By night he would

awaken at the distant baying of a hound, then lie in the sweat of fear,

huddling for comfort at a woman's side.

The finger of Fate swept slowly round in a circle of a score of years,

and the monarch's path of evil led homeward to its starting point. In

the Zagros mountain lay a mighty gap through which, in after years,

would pour a race of the white-skinned sons of Iran, conquering the

world and holding proud dominion till the end of time; and through this

gap now crept a train of Bactrians, hiding by day and faring forth again

in the hours of night. With them they bore a curtained litter wherein

lay a man whose fingers curved like the claws of birds, whose feet were

shrivelled so that he might not stand thereon, and his weak hands

wandered always, as if groping on a darkened road.

Nearer, nearer drew this blind, misshapen thing, moaning as his litter

rocked from side to side, helpless, shorn of strength; yet better far

for Ninus had the hounds of Ishtar fallen on his trail. Outside the

walls the Bactrian train lay hidden in the night; then, presently, a

warrior chief came knocking at the gates of Nineveh.

CHAPTER XXVIII

THE CRY OF THE TIGRESS TO HER MATE

Semiramis, Queen of all Assyria, sat in the royal gardens, in the light

of a great round moon which swung above the walls of Nineveh. About her

were grouped her maidens, lolling on the fountain's rim, splashing their

tiny feet in the coolness of the waves, while their laughter vied with

the gurgling music of a water-song. This song burst forth from the

fountain's heart, low, soothing, in the summer night, yet was marred of

a sudden by the shrieks of Ziffa, a timorous maiden from the north on

whose white knee a clammy little frog had sprung. So Ziffa shrieked,

till saved by a laughing warrior, the son of Sozana and Memetis, now

grown into a man; then the maidens crowned him with a wreath of lily

leaves, and their merriment waxed shrill in the gladsome foolishness of

youth.

In this harmless mirth Semiramis took no part, for to-night her heart

was sad. Her fancy roved through the thickets of a score of years, led

on by a thread of memory, and lingered in the vale of Hindu-Kush. Again

she looked upon the everlasting hills and the plain below, that thirsty

plain on which her cup of water had been spilled, which drank her joy

and made a brother-desert of her soul.

As she sat apart, her great eyes lifted to the glow of Ishtar's trail, a

man-at-arms came clanking down the garden path, bearing report that a

stranger waited beyond the wall with a message for the Queen alone. His

name was Dagas, a Bactrian warrior, and, as surety of faith and good

intent, he sent a jeweled ring, declaring that Assyria's Queen once wore

it on her hand.

Semiramis took the jewel, which in truth had been her own, and,

remembering, laughed aloud. This Dagas was the same whom her wits

befooled in the foot-hills of Hindu-Kush, when she claimed a sisterhood

to Oxyartes and sent the Bactrian seeking for an army of phantom

warriors. So, laughing again, she dismissed her maidens and suffered

Dagas to approach alone.

He knelt before her, pressing her sandal to his lips, then at her

bidding rose, and gave her smile for smile; no longer the beardless

youth, but a grizzled man of war, on whom the heel of years had trod and

set its mark. She looked upon him now, remembering how her charms had

dazzled him in the day of long ago, so she smiled again and spoke in

gentleness:

"Ah, Dagas, thou has come at last to reproach me for deceiving thee. In

exchange for Zariaspa I gave thee a jewel and a lie. For thee an evil

bartering, my Dagas; yet ask of my bounty, and receive. What wouldst

thou?"

"Naught," returned the Bactrian, with a sigh, "naught save thy memory of

one who hath loved Shammuramat, and who loveth still."

To the eyes of the woman leaped the fires of wrath, for how should a

slave presume to babble of his love?--for _her_--the Queen of all

Assyria! She would have clapped her hands in summons of her guard to

slay the dog, yet Dagas restrained her gently, smiling as he shook his

head.

"Nay, Mistress of the World, I speak not of myself, albeit of myself the

same is true; for while I wore thy ring I took no wife unto my breast,

no hope unto my heart. For another I plead--for one who shall grope in

darkness all his days--yet in his hell of everlasting night, one cry

hath rung through the empty hall of years--one heart-cry beating at the

doors of life--Shammuramat!"

The Bactrian ceased. The Queen, in wonder, was silent, too, for the

words of the man seemed strange and meaningless. Yet why should the

dead arise to life? Why should the thread of memory become a chain and

drag her back to her lord of other days?--to Menon the Beautiful--he who

had torn the veil of Ishtar, and bade her look on the naked glory of a

heart!

"Speak," she whispered, watching Dagas, as before she watched in the

shadow of Zariaspa's wall, waiting, listening, for tidings of the lost;

and Dagas spoke.

He told her of a pestilence which had run through his city's streets,

knocking at the doors of beggar and of prince till those who might took

refuge in the hills, while others remained because of poverty or lack of

fear, and died. Among the stricken were two Egyptian eunuchs, Neb and

Ura, who guarded a certain prisoner by command of Tiglath-Shul; yet when

these eunuchs died, the Governor set Dagas and a brother warrior as

keepers of the man. They had ministered to this prisoner, whose eyes

were blind and whose hands and feet were useless by reason of his being

nailed against the wall.

"And so," said Dagas, "in sorrow of his state, I sought to hearten him,

and became his friend. To me he told his tale, in the truth whereof I

may not vouch, for it brandeth him as madman, or else the saddest son of

chance since tears were fashioned by the pitying gods."

Semiramis made no answer, but she raised her trembling hand, so that

Dagas understood and spoke again:

"By night, by day, he pleaded with me, saying: I am Menon, Prince of the

House of Nairi, whom Ninus hath crucified. Go, thou, unto my wife

Shammuramat and tell her of this thing--tell her I swear it by her

kisses on the temple steps at Ascalon! And if she doubt thee still, say

thou of me, in her parting words, that the garment of her love hath

gone, and the joy of the world is but as a cup of water spilled!"

The Bactrian ceased. Semiramis sat, silent, on the garden seat; no

longer Queen of proud Assyria--Mistress of the World--but _the woman_,

stripped of royalty and power; _the woman_, crouching in a huddled heap,

whence two great eyes looked out and suffered; eyes which would have

shrieked, had tongues been given them, yet staring now, in the terror of

a stricken beast.

Through the gardens floated laughter--song--the tinkling mirth of

zitherns softly played. On the night breeze ran the hum of Nineveh,

joyous, flinging care to the seven winds; and a woman's heart was

wondering at the strangeness of it all. Menon lived! Menon the

Beautiful who had died in the glory of his youth! Yet Menon lived!

Who, then, lay down with Habal in the vale of Hindu-Kush? Speak,

Ishtar! Who?

No answer came, till Dagas, in tones of gentleness, told her how this

man had journeyed out of Bactria and now lay hidden beyond the city

wall; then Semiramis arose and spoke, though her voice was as the voice

of some other woman, broken and unknown to her;

"Go, thou, with my servant Huzim and bring him in secret unto me."

She spoke no more, nor did she offer gold or gratitude to him who had

proved devotion rare among the sons of men; yet the Mistress of the

World bent down and pressed her lips to the hand of an humble warrior.

* * * * *

Huzim and Dagas came to the hiding-place where Menon lay, and the

servant knew not his master, because of his shrunken form and the hair

which grew upon his cheeks and chin; yet in Huzim's arms the master lay

sobbing out his joy, till the servant knew, rejoicing that the dead had

risen up to live again.

They cut away his beard, washed him, and clothed his form in a garment

of fine-spun wool; then they bore him in secret to a chamber on the

palace mound.

And Semiramis came in to him--alone--for on that meeting nor you nor I

may seek to look, when even the goddess Ishtar might have turned away in

pity and in pain.

Through the long blue night he lay with his head upon her breast,

weeping, babbling of the aching solitude of his prison years, caressing

her hair, her features, with the crooked fingers which were now his

eyes. And Semiramis rocked him in the cradle of her arms, as she might

have rocked a babe, soothing, whispering her love to this poor misshapen

thing, crooning, till he slept at last, to forget the tangle of his joy

and grief.

Then the Queen of Assyria stole away--away from the horror of

it--seeking the housetop, where none might see, where none might hear,

where none might follow save the ghosts of pain. On the roof she stood

and opened her robe to the cool, sweet breath of the morning stars. She

looked upon Belit riding down the sky; she looked upon sleeping Nineveh

which was builded by the King. The King! who had builded up another

curse and set its walls on a woman's heart--its palace on a woman's

shame! The King! who had wrenched the glory from a woman's soul and

crucified it!

And now, when her soul could bear no more, she loosed one long-drawn,

quivering scream--the cry of the tigress to her stricken mate.

CHAPTER XXIX

WHEN A WOMAN RULED THE WORLD

In the palace of the King there was revelry unstinted, for a change had

come upon Semiramis. Through the score of years when she reigned with

Ninus, she had paid the tribute of a wife, in sufferance of love which

she gave not back again, bearing his son, while her heart roved ever

through the hills of Hindu-Kush. She graced his throne and added to his

kingdom's power; she ruled his house and gave obedience to her lord; yet

the King asked more. He asked for all, not tithes, but the utmost

treasure of a woman's heart--her smiles, her yearnings, and the fruits

of love which ripened for her mate alone; and now, when the frost of age

was set as a helm upon his locks, the hope of youth burst forth to

flower again.

Semiramis smiled upon the King, and there was somewhat in her eyes which

sent the hot blood bounding through his veins, which caused his breath

to flow the faster and his hand to tremble in a lingering caress. Her

beauty was for him--the master of men--the lord of a woman's yielding

soul--the love-mad king who groveled at a shrine of craft.

So Semiramis suffered the King's caress, smiling her smiles of promise,

while she hushed the curses of her fury-throated hate. She waited now,

even as the tigress stalks her kill, patient, tireless, crouching till a

shifting wind had passed, to rise again and steal toward the

pouncing-point. King Ninus she might have slain by day or night, and

there were moments when her fingers clung to a weapon hungrily; yet the

King was King, and his nation might not be slain. Nay, first must she

strip this man of a nation's love, strip him to the very nakedness of

guilt, then nail him to a wall of suffering, even as Menon hung upon a

wall of stone. So the tigress waited, and her quarry frolicked through

the fields of pleasant ways.

High revelry resounded on the palace mound, till the echoes thereof were

borne to a distant chamber where Huzim sat on guard, where Semiramis

would steal from the hateful feasts and comfort Menon, till the whisper

of wisdom urged return. And the King was mad with love, haunting her

footsteps, heaping her lap with his splendid gifts; yet his gifts she

would not receive, and retreated from the ardor of his love. She lured

him to a deeper madness still, drawing him on by every artful charm,

repulsing in a gust of petulance; now warm, now cold, till Ninus knew

not if he stood upon his royal head or upon his royal heels. She

withdrew to her chamber, heedless of his knockings and his calls, till

his soul became afraid of losing her again, and he followed her with

pleadings and with prayers. At his prayers she scoffed; at his wrath

she answered with a higher wrath, then, of a sudden, gave freely where

he had not asked.

Thus Ninus marveled at the strangeness of her mind, and begged that she

ask of him such gifts as would please her best, for he swore by the robe

of Shamashi-Raman that none might fathom aught at all in the wilderness

of a woman's whims.

At his offer of gifts, the Queen took thought, pondering upon it for the

space of a day and night; then she came unto him, saying:

"My lord, if thou wouldst please me best, go hunt for lions in the

thickets along the Euphrates."

"Eh---what?" cried the King, thinking she sought to banish him from his

bed and board; but she laughed and laid her hand upon his arm.

"Nay, lord, grieve not at parting from my side, for, as Ishtar liveth,

_I swear to follow after thee!_" Again she laughed, to smooth the

hidden meaning of her oath, and smiled upon him as her tongue tripped

on: "Yet in thy absence I would reign as Queen of all Assyria--to rule

alone--for the span of one short moon. Give, thus, the chariot of state

into my hands, and Shammuramat will drive it, to the wonder of her lord

and King."

Once more the master looked upon the promise in her eyes--strange orbs

that swam in passion's misty light--and though the voice of wisdom cried

aloud against this thing, the voice of love cried, also, till the tongue

of warning ceased to clamor and was still. Thus it came to pass that

Ninus and his hunters rode toward the south, while criers ran through

the streets of Nineveh, proclaiming the Queen as Ruler Absolute, for the

life of a summer moon.

Now as these criers ran, so ran a host of other messengers, bidding the

warrior chiefs of every land to appear at court, while their followers

might feast within the city walls, nor pay the reckoning thereof. So,

while the master hunted beasts, the mistress hunted men. She brought

them to her board and feasted them, till hunger and thirst could ask no

more. She made such gifts as never a pillaged city yielded to a

conqueror, and even the mouths of beggars she filled with gold. To

those in office she gave a higher office still, with dream-land promises

to all who sought to climb; but to their wives and daughters she offered

naught, nor gave; for her thoughts were now of men--the fighting men

from the face of all the earth, who would rise as one and dash a monarch

from his throne.

Since that by-gone day when she set Prince Asharal again into his place,

proud Babylon, to a man, was hers; yet now she wanted more than Babylon.

She wanted the warriors of Assyria--the warriors who had worshipped

Ninus as a god. She wanted the blood and bone which had raised him up

on high--and she wanted them to stamp him in the dust from whence he

sprung.

So, now, through Nineveh rang the voice of joy, the voice of feastings

and the voice of praise; and on these several tongues the name of Ninus

sounded not, but in its place one mad, tumultuous roar--_Shammuramat_!

Queen of the Moon they called her, and she smiled upon their happiness,

and gave and gave. She sapped the country bare of wine and food. She

flung her gems amongst them as a drunken sower scatters grain. She

spilled the blood of a nation's wealth, till the treasury staggered in

the manner of a wounded ox, and still she smiled; smiled though her

heart was breaking for a man--alight with the flames of Gibil for

another man.

Thus it came to pass, at the waning of the moon, that one last feast was

held in the hall of the spendthrift Queen, a hall now choked with a

press of warrior chiefs and the princes of the world, grim fighters who

wore their swords and battle-scars. Such men alone were bidden to the

feast--such men who in secret loved the Queen, yet dared not lay a

tongue to the telling of their love.

Then unto these sons of war came the mistress of Assyria, not in her

gem-sewn robes of state, but in the armor of a battle-queen. On her

breasts were set her nipple-plates of gold; on her flame-hued locks that

helm which had flashed like star-fire through the ruck of war. Across

her shoulders was flung a leopard skin, and her arms were bare, stripped

of all save the bands of bronze which bound the sinews of her wrists. No

longer was she the laughing imp who had charged against the Kurds, but a

woman--a queen--a tempest-hearted battle-hawk.

At her coming no man spoke, but looked in awe, till presently--they knew

not why--the silence was rent by thunders of acclaim, and the Queen

bowed low before the sons of war. No smile she gave in greeting; no

light-lipped laughter to these men who had followed her through storm

and sun; but on her face rode a look of fierce resolve which caused them

to wait the coming of uncertain things.

In silence she bade them sit; in silence she sat amongst them, albeit

she caused one seat to be vacant at her side; then in silence the feast

began. It was not the like of her other feasts, for before them was set

the simple fare of warriors afield; and where the wine of Syria was wont

to slake their thirst, each found a cup of water at his hand. The Queen

sought not their drunken passion which would die before the morrow's

sun, for now she would feed their hearts on the flesh of truth and mix

their lasting curses with her own. Thus each man, marveling, ate in

silence and waited for the coming of the storm; and then, when the feast

was done at last, Semiramis arose and spoke:

"My brothers," she began, "brothers in war, in love, in the days of

idleness and peace, the heart of your Queen is sad. As I share with you

the bounty of my throne, so now I share my sorrows, giving each a part;

yet, ere I bare my grief, I would ask if there be any here to offer me

reproach. If there be one to say that Shammuramat hath sent him into

danger where she herself would fear to lead, speak now, that I brand him

liar! Come forth and say injustice hath been done to any man--that I

looked with lack of pity on a wound, or gave not of my own to all who

hungered and were athirst! Come forth, my brothers, and name the price

of one grievance unavenged, that I, your sister and your Queen, may pay

it ere I bare my heart!"

None spoke; yet a growling murmur rose, and each man looked upon his

fellow fiercely, daring him to loose a tongue, lest his blood be loosed

to wash away the lie.

Semiramis had paused, but she lifted up her voice once more. As in days

of old she had played upon the hearts of men, even as a harper sounds

the chords of curses and of tears, so now she played again. She told

them of her home in Ascalon, and how Prince Menon came to wake her soul.

She told them of her wedded years wherein her lord had striven for the

King--had conquered Zariaspa and stood with her upon the fallen citadel.

"And you," she cried, "who loved him! You who shared his bounty and the

peril of his wars! You who stood with me on a vale's lip in the

Hindu-Kush and saw him buried in the earth! What! Know you not that his

armor alone is buried there? For in his armor lay a rotting lie! A

lie! For Habal--my good dog Habal--sleepeth with his paws and muzzle on

a stranger's breast! A lie, I say! A lie! _For Menon liveth and by

Ninus was crucified!_"

The shrill voice ceased. It had risen to the scream of a tigress

calling to her mate; but now no answering roar burst forth in echo of

her call. The sons of Assyria sat silent--wondering. All had heard the

tale of Prince Menon's death, and many had seen him laid away to sleep.

On the vale's lip they had wept for a man they loved. They had

seen--had known! How, then, should the dead arise to life again?

Semiramis had branded ears and eyes as the keepers of a lie--a lie which

dragged the gods of honor down and damned them! Aye, a lie; but should

it rise to point its finger at a King, or point it at a Queen? So each

man cast his gaze upon the floor and sat in silence--wondering.

Semiramis smote her palms together, thrice. At the sign, a door swung

open and Huzim strode in, bearing a burden in his arms, a burden which

he set upon the vacant seat beside the Queen. A man it was, or the

semblance of a man, whose eyes were blind; whose form was shrunken, and

whose hands were curved in the manner of horrid claws.

"Look!" cried the Mistress of the World. "Look ye upon this torn,

misshapen thing who was once the glory of a woman's heart! Look ye and

learn from him what the King hath wrought--for you who loved him--and

for me! Look! for a lie hath risen from the grave, and liveth to mark

its own!"

In awe they gathered round him, though they knew him not, by reason of

the horror of his state; but the warriors Prince Menon knew, and voiced

his joy in meeting them again; weeping as he found the features of old

friends with his wandering finger-tips; sobbing as he called them each

by name, or whispered secrets known to him and their hearts alone. Then

Huzim raised him up, and he called aloud on the sons of Nairi, his

children of war, who would harken to a father's battle-cry; and as that

cry rang out, they knew him once again, and knelt before him, weeping

bitterly.

"And now," called Semiramis to her kneeling warriors, "I ask that you

follow me to pluck a vulture from his roost on Assyria's throne! To

cast him out, as a father might cast a serpent from the bosom of his

babe! The King! who hath shorn me of my joy in life! The King! who

hath stolen away my lord--who caused me to bear him a bastard son--who

hath made a strumpet of your Queen! The King! The King no more!

Naught do I ask but justice! Give me this, or the edge of your pitying

swords!"

She ceased. She knelt at the side of her stricken mate and held him in

the cradle of her arms, her eyes upturned to those who shared her

suffering. From the throats of these men there came no shout of fury at

the King, no wrathful curse, no sound save the wrench of a stifled sob;

yet on their faces rode a look of death, as each man drew his sword and

laid it at the feet of the undone Mistress of the World.

As the feast had passed in silence, so now these men departed one by

one, and, treading softly, went out into the night; then each sought out

his home or tent, and slept--to dream and mutter curses in his troubled

sleep.

* * * * *

Through the western gate passed a troop of horse, swinging toward the

south and riding as the spirits drive.

It is written of Ninyas, son of Semiramis and the King, that never one

good deed came out of him; and now he rode with warnings to his father

in the south, who straightway fled into Arabia, seeking a shield in the

desert's sands and a sword in Boabdul's scimitar.

It was Ninyas who turned against his mother in her hour of stress. It

was Ninyas who, in after years, spread forth report that Semiramis had

lied--that Menon had hanged himself in Bactria--that the Queen had set a

maimed imposter in his place to accomplish her evil ends.

Yet, as Ninyas reigned in sloth and foul debauchery, so judgment came

upon him at last. As his heart was false, so also, his tongue was

false, for who will credit aught of him who has turned against a mother

in her hour of stress?

* * * * *

Through the long blue night Semiramis sat beside her withered lord; and

if she had loved him on the temple steps at Ascalon, when he lay in the

splendid beauty of his youth, so now she loved him a hundred fold when

the wine of his life was spilled for her. What matter though his hands

were curved and his eyes were blind? What matter though his outer shell

was dead? The heart of the man still lived, and it beat for her alone.

Together they had hunted through the desert for a grain of sand, and,

finding it, were glad, for they knew that its name was Love.

* * * * *

When morning came stealing down on Nineveh, the city awoke and growled.

A loose-tongued warrior had whispered to his wife; his wife had

whispered to a neighbor's wife,--and the city knew. Through the streets

ran men who were swollen with the bounty of Semiramis, and with them

foregathered other men--lean dogs who licked their chops and gazed on

the glories of more benefits to come. So Nineveh woke to growlings,

which grew into a bark of wrath, till, from end to end, the Opal of the

East gave tongue, frothing, struggling at the leash, and yearning to

leap like the hounds of Ishtar on a master's trail.

Thus, after a space, the western gate was opened wide, and through it

poured the war-hounds of Assyria. Southward they swung, and in their

lead rode a queenly hunter in her battle-gear--for Semiramis had kept

her oath to Ninus, and would follow after him.

CHAPTER XXX

THE DESERT AND THE KING

On the rim of Arabia's desert Semiramis and her army sat down to rest,

for well she knew this pitiless, burning waste would offer a sterner

barrier than the points of a million swords; therefore the Queen took

council with herself and prepared to battle with the scourge of thirst.

On every chariot was loaded wine-skins, filled with water and covered

o'er with cloths and matted grass to keep them cool. Each rider was

commanded to fare on foot, while across his steed were balanced other

water-skins; then came to light the wisdom of Semiramis in choosing ten

score thousand reeds as a gift from the King in India.

These reeds were of mighty length, and on their ends were set the heads

of spears; again, they were hollow, and, the pith therein being bored

away, they were filed with water, when their butts were closed with

plugs of wood. Thus it came to pass that each man bore a new and

fearsome weapon in his hands, wherefrom he might drink and ease the

torture of a thirsty tongue.

Then, presently, the army moved toward Boabdul's stronghold in the

desert's heart. By night they journeyed, when the sun shone not and the

air was chill; by day they slept beneath the shade of canopies which

were stretched on the points of planted spears; yet even their vast

supply of water dwindled into nothingness, and the beasts of burden

suffered and were sad. Men drank of their spears, but the heat had

warmed their drink, and many died of madness and were left behind.

Yet Semiramis journeyed on. Her pathway led, not straight to the goal

of her hot revenge, but by a devious course which touched the

palm-groves of oases, where springs and wells were found; and where

these wells had dried beneath the fierceness of the sun, there Semiramis

drove her reeds into the earth till oft' a grateful gush of water flowed

therefrom. In these groves her warriors rested, drinking the precious

juice of life and filling again their reed-spears and their water-skins;

then the journey was taken up once more.

* * * * *

Now it came about that the scurrying riders of Boabdul brought word that

Assyria marched across the plain; so the Arab prepared to give them

battle on the sands, or to fly if the force proved stronger than his

own.

King Ninus had befooled the Arabian Prince, persuading him that the

people rose in an unjust cause, till Boabdul harkened and was wroth

because of this shameful thing, swearing to give his blood, if need be,

in behalf of a brother king.

And now, at the dawn of a certain day, these two looked out on the

desert, and were amazed. Through the mists came the army of Assyria,

not as a strong-armed host to batter down its foes, but as men who were

famished by the desert's breath, whose strength was spent, who reeled

and fell upon the sand, to rise and struggle on again. Their war-wings

stretched in ragged disarray; their chariots came crawling far behind

where they should have held the van, and horsemen limped across the

fiery plains, leading their drooping steeds.

At the sight, Boabdul looked into the eyes of Ninus, and Ninus looked

into Boabdul's eyes, and laughed. 'Twere pity to fall upon this

heat-picked skeleton of strength and ride it down; yet, since it was

written thus, who, then, should thwart the will of Asshur and his scribe

of fate? So Ninus and Boabdul laughed again, and prepared a slaughter

for the sons of sacrifice.

Two clouds of wild-eyed riders swept around the grove of palms, their

white robes fluttering their lances flung aloft and caught as they fell

again. They joined in one, a mad-mouthed horde of desert-wolves, who

loosed their reins and raced at the core of Assyria's stricken lines.

At their coming, Assyria bended as a twig which it trod upon; yet, of a

sudden, the twig would bend no more. Where warriors had seemed to sink

exhausted on the sand, they now stood up in the splendor of their

strength. Where lines seemed torn to wilted shreds, they now closed

tightly, and Arabia came upon a hedge of spears--the reed-spears of

Semiramis. Behind the first line stood another line, their spears

protruding against attack; and behind these two stood other lines, till

he who would reach Assyria must leap a hurdle of seven rows of points.

Thus Arabia hacked vainly at a wall of death, even as in after days the

blood of Sparta spilled itself on the spears of Macedonia.

And now the war-wings ceased their feeble flutterings, to close upon

Boabdul and his men, to take them in as a mother might take a wanderer

in her arms; though on that mother's breast they found no peace of

heart. The Bedouin horsemen backed upon themselves in a close-packed,

tangled mass, fighting with scimitars against a storm of darts and the

thrusts of spears; then a lane was opened, and into the boiling ruck

drove Semiramis and her wedge of chariots.

In the car of the Queen stood Huzim, holding the reins and striving to

guard his mistress with a mighty shield of bronze; yet to-day Semiramis

cared naught for shields, nor recked of death, so long as she came upon

the Vulture of Assyria. For him alone she sought--the King!--and never

before had the tigress raged as she raged this day. Where an hundred

scimitars flashed about her head, she rode them down and bored toward

the King--bored till her steeds were slain and her chariot overturned,

then she arose from the earth and bored on foot into the press.

She cared not for a thousand swords, and yet one scimitar there was

which she might not pass unscathed. High up it swung, in the fist of

Prince Boabdul; but ere it could descend upon her, Huzim leaped and

dragged the Arab from his horse. On the blood-wet sands they battled,

beneath the hoofs of plunging steeds, where dying Bedouins sought with

dagger thrusts to claim still one more death ere they stood before their

gods; and Huzim, who was once the Arab's slave, prevailed against

Boabdul, gripped him tightly, and whispered into his ear:

"Peace, little master! for it grieveth me to crack thy bones. Peace,

then, for I hold thee fast!"

Now the Prince whose rage and mirth went ever hand in hand, forbore to

strive with his mighty conqueror, and laughed because of Huzim's words;

yet the Arabs, seeing their chieftain fallen, surged backward and burst

their way through Assyria's wall of men. Beaten, they fled like foxes

from the trap which Semiramis had set for them; and in the van of their

flying pack rode Ninus, on a matchless steed of Barbary. Away they sped

through the desert's shimmering haze, where Assyria might not follow

after them, nor did Semiramis seek to follow, for in her brain was born

a craftier design.

In the grove of palms she caused Boabdul to be brought before her where

she cut his bonds and offered him her hand.

"My lord," she spoke, "with thee I have no cause for war, nor did I seek

to bring a harm to these thy followers who are dead or scattered o'er

the plains. My concernment is with the Vulture of Assyria, and him I

will snare though I rake the sand-wastes of Arabia from end to end."

Then she told Boabdul of all things which had come to pass--how the King

had crucified Prince Menon whom the Arab loved, and had stolen his wife

for the space of a score of years; and so great was Boabdul's wrath that

he rent his robe and swore by his gods of fire to follow after Ninus, to

find him, and to nail him on a wall of woe.

"Fear not," he cried, "for my desert is but a prison-yard, where the

wardens of heat and thirst will hedge our captive round about and drive

him to the arms of those who seek. Fear not, for soon will we come upon

the King."

And thus Semiramis had won unto her cause the man who above all other

men could aid her in her quest; the man who balanced a thousand tribes

on the edge of his whetted scimitar; the man who now sent forth his

riders, recalling all who had scattered across the plains.

Throughout the day Semiramis rested in the shade, and slept; but when

night was come she chose a few from amongst her warrior-chiefs, then

with Boabdul and his brown-skinned Bedouins she slipped across the

sands. On camels they rode, those long-limbed, lurching beasts that

devoured the leagues with a tireless, padding gait--that glided like

ghosts beneath the icy stars--that slid through the wastes of red Arabia

on a trail of death.

And in the silence of the night Semiramis raised her eyes and arms and

cried unto the stars:

"Oh, Ishtar, Ishtar, give over this devil to the vengeance of my

heart--keep, thou, my lord till I come again to him at Nineveh!"

* * * * *

King Ninus was mounted on a matchless steed of Barbary, and his

eagerness to be gone from out Arabia kept pace with his matchless steed.

Full well he knew that Semiramis would follow after him; full well he

knew that, since Boabdul's arm was lost to him, his hope lay eastward in

the distant country of India's King. Could he win to the Euphrates,

cross over it, and skirt the coast, coming at last to the river Indus,

he there might mock the huntings of all Assyria, and bide his time till

an army could be raised--an army which should give him back his throne,

his power; for these King Ninus craved, and would have them, though his

years were few.

That Semiramis hunted him, was a thought of bitterness in the monarch's

heart, for he loved her utterly; yet, since Prince Menon had risen from

the dead, a terror, also, rose, which vied with the yearnings of his

love and sent him eastward in a line as straight as an arrow's flight.

His steed outstripped the flying Bedouins who had burst through

Assyria's lines, and soon the King sped on alone--alone on the desert's

fiery breast--and hour on hour he fled from the vengeance of Semiramis.

At evening the King grew faint from heat and his lips were parched with

thirst, while even his splendid mount was drooping, and faltered in its

stride. The wise steed scented the breath of a cool oasis toward the

north, and would have turned thereto, but Ninus knew naught of the

plainsman's lore and lashed the wise one, racing him eastward in a dead

straight line.

Thus it came about that when night had fallen the horse grew lame, so

Ninus dismounted and rested upon the sand. Then a cold wind rose, which

sang across the desert, searching his bones till he shivered and cursed

aloud; and the good steed shivered, also, because of his sweating body

and the lack of a master's care. Naught had this stallion of Barbary

known save love and tenderness; and now, with drooping head, he looked

upon the cursing King, and wondered. No covering was there to shield

his flanks against the cold; no water wherewith to bathe his wind-burned

nostrils; no hand to stroke his muzzle in caress; no lips to croon the

love-songs of the land of Araby. The chill of the night had entered

into him, till he whinnied for the shelter of a master's tent, and

coughed in pain; then man and beast lay down together in a hollow in the

sands which Ninus dug with his royal nails.

When the warmth of morning came again, the two went on their way; yet a

red sun rose to harry them, to pour its light upon them in a wavy glare;

and the stallion of Barbary reeled toward the east. Again came night.

Again came day--the pitiless, parching day, when league on league of

tawny desert wrapped them round in a world of flame; when their tongues

were black and swollen from the pangs of thirst, a thirst which took

them by the throat and shook them, a thirst which reached beyond and

gripped their hearts.

Then, presently, the faithful steed could bear his weight no more; he

staggered and fell upon the sands to die. King Ninus slew him, and, in

the fury of his thirst, he drank of the horse's blood; but the blood was

warm and brought no ease to him, for rather did it spur his mad desire.

Then the famished man rose up and wandered away on the desert's

breast--alone.

No more he fled from the anger of Semiramis toward the east, but strayed

in circles, while the heat-waves danced before his eyes, causing a haze

which blinded him, till through it ran the twisted fancies of a dream.

Before him he spied a river gurgling through the sands--a deep, sweet

river, where the cool palms waved upon its shores; so Ninus spread his

arms and rushed toward it eagerly. Yet, at his coming, the waters fled

away and melted as a morning mist dissolves; then the King fell prone

upon his face, to bury his lips in a draught of the flaming sands. To

his knees he rose and lifted his hairy arms aloft, whispering hoarsely

to the gods on high; and unto Ninus came the gods!

He saw them on the far horizon's line, gaunt spirits sweeping down as

the storm-king rides--red Raman, prince of lightnings and the

thunder-bolt--the lord god Asshur and his underlings of war and death;

and even as Ninus had set a sin on the shoulders of these gods, so now

they bore that sin, and the sin was in the likeness of Prince Menon who

had come at last to reckon with his King. And the lord of the world

would have burrowed in the sands to hide himself, but the spirit of a

blind man pointed out the way, and Ishtar's spirit snapped the leash of

her spirit hounds.

Straight at their prey they sprang, but the King was a King, and stood

upon his feet to battle with them mightily--to fight as his hands had

fought from childhood to declining years; yet now he was old and the

glory of his strength was spent. He felt the teeth of Ishtar's hounds

upon his throat, and, in his madness, knew not that the deathly grip was

of thirst alone; so Ninus screamed and died--died battling, as the man

had battled all his days, yet Menon's prophecy was a prophecy of truth.

* * * * *

When the red sun, weary of his raging, sank behind the desert's rim,

Boabdul and Semiramis came upon the ending of their trail. The King!

On his back he lay, his wide eyes staring at the heavens whence his

judgment came. The body of a King! The shell of a spirit which had

ruled the wills of lesser men, which had conquered all save the spirits

of the gods alone, and, conquering, had used the world as a sandal for

his lordly feet. The body of a King; yet now a King no more, but dust!

Semiramis looked down upon him, sorrowing--sorrowing because of one who

had cheated her in life, as now he cheated her in death; but the Arab

read another tale in that kingly heap of dust, and spoke to her in

gentleness and in the ripened wisdom of his years:

"Grieve not, O Queen Shammuramat, because of a vengeance that is lifted

from out thy hands. Grieve not, for of a truth King Ninus hath been

crucified on a wall of the desert's wrath."

CHAPTER XXXI

THE CROWNING OF THE DEAD

Prince Ninyas, when he had brought his warnings to the King, fled not

with him into Arabia, for he had no thought to risk his slothful bones

in the peril of a war; therefore he hired a score of boatmen and was

paddled up the Tigris till he came again to Nineveh.

Now in every land and in every city there are those who suffer with the

worms of a strange unrest, and did their highest god come down to rule

amongst them they would find some cause for disaffection, yearning for a

change in government.

With men of this breed Prince Ninyas whispered, promising that when the

throne was his a reign of peace should come to Nineveh, wherein the

wormy ones might look for the fruits of their souls' desire; so, when

the Queen returned, and report was spread concerning the death of Ninus,

then a million infant lies were born. They waxed in strength, these

lies, till soon they muttered through the city streets; yet, because of

the whip-hand of Semiramis, they muttered secretly.

Now secret discontent was ever hateful to the Queen, for she held that a

man should bring his grievance to the stool of a justice, setting forth

his wrongs in the manner of a man, else hold his tongue; therefore she

sought to bring this trouble to a head and set her heel upon it, swiftly

and with weight.

Through the streets ran scores of criers, with word that on the morrow

would the court be held before the eyes of Nineveh; so when the morrow

came the streets were packed with multitudes that surged toward the

palace mound, waiting for weary hours before the appointed time, in

expectancy of uncommon things. Dread whisperings went round about

concerning the Queen who had slain the King, and who now would tax the

people grievously, demanding their wealth to supply a treasury made

lean; thus growlings arose on every hand, till the waiting crowds

swarmed to and fro and fought amongst themselves.

To the ears of the High Priest Nakir-Kish came warnings of the Queen's

intent; so he hastened unto her, urging that she rule in wisdom, lest

fierce internal wars ferment throughout Assyria. Semiramis looked upon

him, smiling, and answered in a tone of softness which was like unto the

purring of a cat:

"For thy wise advice I pay in humble gratitude; yet the tongue of a fool

may oft' undo him by its flutterings. Hold it, O Priest, and follow,

thou, my will this day, lest, one by one, my servants shall draw thy

teeth." She paused and looked upon him keenly through her half closed

lids. "It cometh to me that Nakir-Kish was ever close to Ninus, even in

sins. Take, therefore, a further heed, lest thy bread be eaten with

slowness and in pain."

Then the priest went out from the presence of Semiramis, took council

with himself and held his tongue; wherein the man was wise, for to wag

it would bring him woe.

The palace steps ran down from the royal mound to an open square wherein

were set the effigies of lions and winged bulls, and here the sons of

Nineveh foregathered at the mandate of the Queen. At the head of this

stairway, before the palace doors, was set Assyria's double throne,

while about it stood a ring of priests, and the chiefs of war in their

battle-gear. Then, presently, Semiramis came forth, resplendent in her

gem-sewn robes, and, descending the palace steps to a middle distance,

she raised her arms to check the shouts of loud acclaim, then addressed

the multitude:

"My children," she called, "it hath come to mine ears that ye murmur

amongst yourselves because of foolishness and lies--because I would take

away what my hand hath given, and become a pilferer where ye look to

find a friend. Know, then, that I, Shammuramat--Queen of

Assyria--Mistress of the World--ask naught from _any_ man!"

At her words a thunderous shouting rose, and men danced madly in their

joy on the open square. One loud-mouthed warrior sprang upon the back

of a winged bull and bawled to his friends below:

"Long reign the Queen! A curse on Ninyas--son of Ninus--and the Prince

of Liars! A curse upon his evil tongue!"

The curse was taken up by five score thousand mouths, till the roarings

rocked the palace mound, and the din was great; then Semiramis once more

raised her arms and spoke to the seething multitude:

"Naught do I ask, my children, in taxes or in gifts; for now would I

make a royal gift to you. The King is dead! He died in a distant land,

where I followed after him because of his evil works. The King is dead;

yet now do I give to you another King!"

She ceased. No shout arose, for her listeners stood silent, wondering

if she thought to set the liar, Ninyas, on her throne; so they waited,

each man drawing in his breath.

Through the palace doors strode Huzim, bearing a burden in his mighty

arms--a burden which he set on Assyria's double throne. A man it was,

or the semblance of a man, whose eyes were blind; whose form was

shrunken, and whose hands were curved in the manner of horrid claws.

This, then, was the King whom Semiramis would give!

In silence the people gazed on Menon while one might count a score, then

from their throats came a quivering wolf-lipped howl. No paean of

rejoicing rode that tempest-gust of sound, but the snarl of men whose

passions were stirred to madness and to deeds of blood. Would Semiramis

dare to crown this hideous thing?--this mockery of man who swayed in

weakness as he sat on high? Nay, better to set a prince of liars on the

throne! Better to crown a graven effigy! So the people howled their

wrath and surged toward the palace steps, seeking to tear the idol from

a woman's shrine and stamp it in the dust.

About Semiramis were gathered her chiefs of war, Prince Asharal of

Babylon, Boabdul Ben Hutt whose scimitar could match a score of swords,

Huzim the faithful, Dagas who loved and whose shield was hers in any

cause, while many more stout arms were there to work her will; but of

these the Queen thought not as she faced the coming throng.

"Ye dogs!" she stormed, "am I to be sickened by the yelpings of your

pack? Ye swine of Assyria! who have fattened on the plenty of

Shammuramat! I who have puffed your bellies with the food of gods! Have

done! Go down in peace, nor lay your tongues to idle mutterings! In

peace, I say, lest I cease to love you and destroy you utterly!" She

paused for an instant, then flung her hand toward her stricken mate,

lifting her voice that all might hear and heed: "_On a throne King Menon

sitteth, and shall sit! Down! Down upon your knees and worship him, who

is lord of my heart and lord of all the world!_"

Now those who would have rushed upon her, paused at the very wonder of

her love, and in that pause Semiramis turned and made a sign to

Nakir-Kish. The High Priest would have set the crown on Menon's head,

but the head drooped forward, sinking upon his breast. His little

strength had ebbed. The tumult of the populace below had seemed like

the roar of battle in his ears, though the meaning thereof was strange

to him, and he knew not that he was King. One thought alone was in his

heart--Semiramis!--and to her he stretched his broken, wandering hands.

But the Queen would have her will. She snatched the crown from the High

Priest Nakir-Kish and set it on Menon's brow--a brow which now would

never feel its royal weight, for a dead man slid from Assyria's throne

and fell upon his face.

And the people shouted not, but were very still, for beside the

crownless King a weeping woman knelt--forgetful that the swine of all

Assyria looked upon her grief--knowing only that the Mistress of the

World had _lost_ her world.

CHAPTER XXXII

A WAR QUEEN'S PROPHECY

Once more the priests and the chiefs of war foregathered at the mandate

of the Queen; and now they waited not on the palace steps, but assembled

in the council hall, that spacious chamber where, in days of old King

Ninus was wont to issue his commands. There, through its open end, could

be seen the Tigris, chanting a wordless song as it ran to a chanting

sea; there hung proud trophies of the battle and the chase; there, on

the walls, were the carven _steles_ of Ninus, each telling a tale of a

monarch's mighty deeds.

And to those who waited there, Semiramis came at last; no longer clothed

in the splendor of her gem-sewn robes, or the glory of her battle-gear.

She wore a garb of mourning, and on the flame-hued locks was set no

diadem save a crown of withered leaves. In silence she came into the

hall, and in silence took her seat upon the throne. In silence she

looked on the men before her--men who had followed through the desert's

fire and the storm of many a war; then the Queen arose and spoke:

"My brothers," she began, "brothers in battle and the pleasant ways of

peace, your sister Shammuramat is sad. The King is dead; yet I grieve

not for the King. The king of my heart is dead, and I grieve for him."

She paused. Her warrior brothers bowed their heads, and each man hid

his eyes in the hollow of his hand; then the Queen spoke on:

"And now will I reign alone! Alone, till it pleaseth Ishtar to call me

unto one who will wait and listen for my footsteps coming in the night.

And so will I reign alone! Yet harken, ye children of Assyria, and ye

who write on tablets and the graven _stele_! In after-days the sons of

men will say of me that Shammuramat was one of an evil heart!--that her

heart was for war, for blood, for pillage, and the conquering of all the

earth! They will say that she slew the King--slew him in brutish lust

for a lesser man! They will say that she ruled with a rod of might, and

set ambition on a higher altar than the altar of her gods! All this,

and more, will run from the babbling tongues of men--_and Shammuramat

will strive to make it true!_"

Once more she paused and looked upon her wondering warriors.

"Heed, then, my brothers who will marvel at my wrathful days to come!

Heed ye and remember one who hath wrought this evil in my soul! The

King! who hath crucified a woman's love! The King! who hath torn a

woman's heart from out her breast and set a raging devil as the master

of her blood! So harken, ye children of Assyria, and ye who write on

tablets and the graven _stele_! Remember! And now make ready for a

war!"

"A war?" cried Nakir-Kish, who knew that the nations rested on their

arms and were at peace. "What war?"

Semiramis turned upon him with a cry of consuming rage, and with the

scepter of an hundred lands she smote him across his mouth. The High

Priest Nakir-Kish went down before her throne, and she raised her eyes

on high and called aloud:

"Dear Ishtar, hear the fool who asketh me what war!"

She turned to her brother warriors, her children of the sword, grim,

battle-scarred, and faithful unto death; and to them she stretched her

empty arms and opened her empty heart.

"War! War!" she cried. "I care not where nor how, so be it that we

war! _Rise Babylon--and sink Assyria!_"