A LYING SPIRIT
In the meantime, not only to his temple had been confined the
preparations of his servants for celebrating the festival of the great
Assyrian god. Throughout the city, wherever shrine was sculptured or
altar reared, garlands had been woven, drink-offerings prepared, droves
of animals made ready for sacrifice, and trenches even dug to carry off
the blood that was to flow like water with the fall of night. The
priests of Baal swarmed in every open space, singing, shouting,
gesticulating with frantic leaps, and bare knives brandished to threaten
their own naked breasts. Nothing was left undone that could excite the
fanaticism of the multitude, and their hot Assyrian blood soon rose to
boiling pitch under the wild excitement of the hour. Men's eyes flashed,
their cheeks glowed, while they rent the air with cries in honour of
their deity, and troops of women, with dishevelled hair and unveiled
faces, might be seen beating their breasts, waving their arms, even
dancing in grotesque unison with the mystic transports of the priests.
The prophets of the grove, too, had taken possession of every eminence
that might boast a leaf of verdure, every green and wooded spot, both
within and without the walls, for their comprehensive worship of the
host of heaven, figured as it would seem by the countless blossoms and
perennial vitality of their sacred tree--typical, it may be, of that
which long ago in Eden "stood in the midst of the garden, good for food,
pleasant to the eyes, and a tree to be desired to make one wise;" or
that of which he must eat who would live for ever, and which seemed to
have promised, far back in the buried ages, yet another tree of
expiation and suffering, on which the Great Sacrifice was to be
offered--the Great Sacrifice of immeasurable love and pity, that the
sense of man cannot fathom, nor his words describe, nor his narrow heart
conceive.
In all idolatry, in the darkness of every superstition, however foul and
debasing, is there not some faint reflection of that true dawn which
shall hereafter brighten into perfect day?
Amongst the crowds that surged and swayed in the main streets of the
city, carried away by present enthusiasm, and agape for fresh
excitement, might be seen many a proud dark face, with black curled
beard and hair, looking calmly, triumphantly, it may be even scornfully,
on the seething shifting throng. These faces all bore the same impress
of quiet daring and prompt resolve, satisfied to bide the right time
patiently, yet ready at any moment to strike the fatal blow. Their
haughty looks and stern self-confidence disclosed the temper of that
army which, having been left at home to protect the empire during the
last campaign, had assumed to itself the title of the Great Queen's
host, affecting to take its orders directly from Semiramis, to be at her
especial service, and devoted primarily to her interest or person,
rather than to the empire or the king.
It needed less knowledge of human nature than was possessed by Assarac
to foresee that such a distinction between two such forces, as had now
entitled themselves respectively the armies of Egypt and Assyria, was
likely to produce feelings of jealousy and rancour, ready at any moment
to break out in open hostility. The eunuch, despite attentive study of
the stars, had not failed to read that book diligently which closes
every page with every passing day, sealed to the curiosity that is fain
to anticipate its coming chapters, but standing fairly open for those
who would learn the probabilities of the future from the records of the
past. He judged men's thoughts less by their deeds than their
inclinations, and calculated their future conduct rather from their
passions than their interests. It was through his advice that the army
of Egypt had been scattered over the surrounding country, and that of
Assyria, or the queen's host, concentrated in the city, by timely use of
the Great King's signet. With military decision, unexpected perhaps in
one whose avocations seemed unwarlike, as his character might have been
thought unmanly, he had seized, and caused to be securely guarded, the
principal gates of the city, the sluices that dammed its stream, even
the tunnel under the great river, which afforded communication between
the palaces of the king and queen. He had neglected no precaution; had
provided for every emergency; had corrupted one army, disorganised
another, maddened the priests, inflamed the multitude, set his snares in
the very path of the noble prey he had determined to destroy; and calmly
awaited the result.
Beladon looked on his chief with the admiration of a neophyte for some
grand professor of his art. It seemed strange to see one on whom the
fate of an empire depended, whose slightest hesitation might involve
with his own the ruin of all his supporters, so calm, so confident, so
unmoved. Not the careless, pleasure-seeking Sethos, whose only business
in life was to fill the king's cup, as his chief recreation was to sun
himself in Kalmim's eyes, could have seemed less interested in the
mighty preparations going forward than was the prime mover and origin of
all. Nay, that thoughtless youth _did_ wear some slight air of
perplexity on his brow while he crossed the open space between the
temple and the royal palace, on his way from the apartments of the
prince.
"What is this cloud coming up from the desert now?" said the cup-bearer
to the priest, as they met under shadow of the sacred building, and
observed, by such of its graduated steps as were still exposed to the
scorching glare, that not many hours had yet to pass before night. "The
Great King covers his feet in his summer-chamber; the queen tans her
fair face and heats her Southern blood hurrying to and fro, from palace
to temple, from hall to gallery, from the prince's apartments to the
royal judgment-seat. Kalmim keeps silence, which is in itself a marvel,
shaking her head, as if she knew more than she would tell; while in the
midst of these signs and wonders, Ninyas sends and bids me ride with him
into the desert in this stifling heat, as a man would say to his friend,
'Brother, you are athirst and an hungered. Here is a melon and a
water-jar. I pray you eat and drink.' What does it all mean, I say? The
desert forsooth! By the light of Ashtaroth, I never wish to travel the
desert again, after the toil and thirst and suffocation of that endless
campaign!"
"The prince means to hunt the lion, no doubt," answered Beladon, "under
the eyes of Ishtar, or to speak plain, in the light of the rising moon."
Sethos pondered.
"A lion at bay is no pleasant companion," said he, "by moonlight or
daylight either. It is not the smile of a fair woman he puts on, I can
tell you, when your horse comes up with him, and he begins to look you
in the face."
"I know which is most dangerous," replied the priest; "but I doubt if
Ninyas feels a wise man's fear for either one or other. Nevertheless,
the hunter at night may be a prey before dawn; and the child that cries
to its mother for the moon must be pacified ere it wake the household."
"You speak in parables," answered Sethos, yawning, "and during the heat
of the day too! I cannot interpret parables, nor do I believe much in
priests. Well, at least I am free of the palace for to-night, and have
done with the Great King till to-morrow at dawn."
"Till to-morrow at dawn," repeated the other, adding, in a tone of light
yet meaning banter: "When the lion turns to bay, Sethos, what is the
hunter to do then?"
"He must drive an arrow through the wild beast's heart," was the reply,
"unless he likes to sleep in the desert with nothing on but his bones.
There is no compromise with the lion; if you slay not _him_, he will
surely slay _you_."
"He will surely slay _you_," repeated the other in the same tone. "It is
a wise saying, though spoken by the king's cup-bearer. Nay, be not
wroth with me, Sethos. I love you well, partly, I think, because you are
not over-wise nor thoughtful, and a man may speak with _you_ freely, not
stopping to pick his words as if the plain truth would burn his lips.
Take my advice: ride your best horse to-day, and water him freely before
you mount. When Ninyas comes back from hunting, turn into the desert and
gallop for your life."
"Where must I gallop?" asked Sethos, in some natural anxiety and alarm.
"Where?" repeated the priest. "Anywhere but back to Babylon. Ascalon,"
he added thoughtfully, "perhaps it would be the safest refuge, after
all. If you go by the way of the Dark Valley and the Bitter Waters, you
might reach it well enough."
"And the Great King's draught at sunrise?" said the cup-bearer,
reverting to the first duty of his daily life.
"The Great King's draught is provided for," was the answer. "See,
Assarac ascends the steps of the temple. I must prate here no longer. Do
as I warned you. Farewell, I am loath to part, for I think we shall
never meet again."
Little reassured by so ominous a leave-taking, Sethos hastened to make
ready for the expedition to which he had been summoned by the prince.
Though greatly perplexed and at a loss how to act, he decided so far to
follow his friend's counsel as to select a true-bred steed of the plains
on which to accompany Ninyas, permitting the good horse to drink its
fill ere the bridle was put in its mouth. He slung also a little bag,
containing a handful or two of dates, to his saddle-cloth, and might
have completed farther preparations but that he was sent for to attend
on his future monarch without delay.
Ninyas was already mounted and impatient to be off. His beautiful young
face glowed with excitement, and a fever of longing shone in his eager
eyes. Somewhat to the cup-bearer's dismay, he found that he alone was to
accompany the prince, though the latter muttered a few indistinct
sentences about attendants on foot and horseback, who had been directed
to meet them outside the walls; but it struck Sethos, himself no
inexperienced hunter, that for one who intended to make war on the king
of beasts in his native fastnesses, it would have been well to carry a
few more arrows in the quiver, a somewhat stiffer and heavier javelin in
the hand.
With his unusual comeliness and graceful bearing, the person of Ninyas
was as well known in the streets of Babylon as that of the mother to
whom he bore so marvellous a likeness. Recognised and greeted with
enthusiastic acclamations as he passed on, his progress through the city
was one continued ovation. And Sethos wondered more and more to observe
that his young lord selected the most public thoroughfares for their
ride, although the absence of his usual guards, the waiving of all state
or ceremony, seemed to infer that he wished to depart unnoticed and
unknown.
More thoughtful than he had ever been in his life, the cup-bearer
followed close on the prince's heels, anxious, silent, and sadly
embarrassed by the warning he had lately received. Ninyas, on the
contrary, laughed and jested with the crowd, breaking through the
habitual reserve that existed between his father's subjects and the
royal descendant of the gods with a joyous freedom that sat gracefully
enough on one so young, so renowned, and, above all, so fair.
In an open space not a furlong from the gate by which they were about to
leave the city, the multitude seemed at its thickest. The prince's horse
could scarcely move in a foot's pace, although those against whom it
pressed prostrated themselves to the ground, kissing the body or
trappings of the animal, and even the feet of its rider. Much excitement
had been caused here by a huge altar of turf raised to Baal, gay in a
profusion of flowers, girt with the usual trench, and surrounded by a
numerous circle of priests, leaping, shouting, waving their arms in
paroxysms of an excitement too unbridled to be wholly feigned. As Ninyas
came to a halt almost in their midst, one of these, springing
frantically in the air, caught hold of the prince's bridle, and
brandishing a broad curved knife, laid his own breast open with a wild
flourish that cut, however, little more than skin-deep.
It was a startling figure, standing there so tall and lean, naked to
the waist, and bleeding freely from its tawny sinewy chest. The thick
black hair and beard were matted together in foul disorder, the piercing
eyes rolled and glittered with the light of madness, while a long-drawn
howl of mingled agony and triumph denoted that the votary was under the
inspiration of his god.
Sethos trembled, the horse of Ninyas pawed and snorted while his rider
smiled in scorn; but the crowd, swaying to and fro, caught the
excitement of the moment, and a whisper running from lip to lip like
wildfire rose to a shout of "Prophesy, prophesy! He foams, he writhes!
Baal has come down on him! Prophesy, prophesy!"
Another gash, a hideous laugh, a long-drawn dismal wail, and that
unearthly figure, towering above the rest, hovering as it were with arms
extended towards the prince, took up its parable in raving incoherent
utterances, while the gleaming teeth and restless features worked in
frightful jerks, like the contortions of a man in a fit.
"I am Nerig! I am Zachiah! I am Abitur of the Mountains! I have fought
with Merodach, and lain with Ashtaroth, and spoken with Baal face to
face! Mine eyes are opened, and I, even I, behold the things of earth
and heaven. I am no man, not I, to be born of woman, scorched with fire,
slain with steel. I am three devils in one--Nerig, Zachiah, and Abitur
of the Mountains--three devils, and yet I cannot lie, for it is not I
who speak, but Baal! Baal has come down on me, and cast out the devils,
and hereafter will I write them a bill of divorce, that they know me no
more; and the voice of Baal cries, 'O king, live for ever!' and the
finger of Baal points to this goodly youth, and bids him reach his hand
to take the sceptre, draw his girdle to wear the sword; and the fire of
Baal falls on my heart and consumes me, constraining me to cry without
ceasing, 'To-morrow, and to-morrow, and yet to-morrow!' It is spoke
below; it is writ above! O king, live for ever!"
Then the foam flew from his mouth, and he fell on his face, stark and
senseless, under the very feet of the prince's horse. Swerving aside in
terror, the animal's hoof struck sharp on his defenceless head, and he
lay there to all appearance a dead man.
But neither amongst his comrades nor the bystanders was an eye turned on
him in pity, nor an arm stretched to raise him from the earth. The looks
of all were bent on their future monarch and favourite, now hastening to
depart.
As Ninyas disappeared through the city gate, once more a shout went up
into the sky; and like the countless birds of morning, with their
various notes of welcome to the rising sun, all these voices had but one
burden, one chorus, and thus it ran:
"The gods cannot lie! Baal hath spoken. O king, live for ever!"