Istar’s white-robed women brushed out her hair, which fell about her like a cascade of rippling gold, bathed her face in a golden bowl filled with perfume, and gently washed her white hands. Then, when her toilet was complete, they retired at a sign, leaving me alone with her.
When all was silent she lifted her tiny foot from my neck and commanded me to rise.
“Tell me, whence comest thou?” she inquired, in a hard rasping voice, when I stood before her.
Our eyes met. Hers were of that unusual tint—almost violet. They held me in fascination.
“I came from the desert land two moon’s march beyond thine,” I answered, noticing, at the same moment, that her shapely hands trembled. “I entered thy dominion by the gate known to us as the Rock of the Great Sin, the secret way that no man hath before penetrated.”
“Thou hast discovered it!” she gasped excitedly, half rising from her crystal seat of royalty, gleaming with its thousand iridescent fires. “Tell me, in which direction doth it lie?”
“Far north, beyond the Mountains of the Mist, beyond the ruins of the wondrous temple thine ancestor raised to Sin, the Moon-god.”
“But tell me the exact position of the rock of the great god Sin,” she demanded, eagerly. “It is a spot which existeth in the sayings of the priests, but it hath been lost to all men in the mazes of legendary lore.”
“Its exact position I cannot accurately describe,” I answered. “Since passing through it and deciphering the rock-tablet of Semiramis, I have travelled many days in forest and over plain and mountain.”
“Couldst thou not guide me thither?” she asked, eagerly.
“I fear I could not, O Queen,” I answered.
“Thou art, indeed, the Destroyer; the man who is my bitterest enemy,” she observed, in a deeply reflective tone.
“How?” I inquired. “Surely I have done thee no wrong!”
“Since the day of Semiramis, the founder of Babylon and of Ea, it hath been told to each generation by our sages that a dark-faced stranger from the north shall one day enter our impregnable kingdom and approach its ruler,” she said, hoarsely. “His entry shall be the curse that Anu, god of Destruction, hath placed upon our land, and this our city, with walls unbreakable, shall be overthrown and crumble into dust. When Semiramis founded this our land of Ea, she made not sufficient sacrifice unto Anu, therefore the dread god overthrew her colossal Temple of the Sun, and laid a curse upon the city, saying that he would one day direct hereto the steps of a man from the world beyond, and that this man should be the Destroyer. Thou art the one sent by Anu.”
She had fixed her brilliant eyes upon me, holding me transfixed. There was in her face a strange look of combined terror and hatred.
“Well,” I said, after a pause, “believest thou that I am the prophesied doer of evil?”
“Assuredly thou art,” she answered. “All is evil in thine accursed world beyond.”
“And thou, the goddess Istar, believest that I am capable of working evil against this thy giant city!” I observed, smiling. “Thou fearest that I am possessed of the evil eye.”
“Thy coming fulfilleth the prophecies of our priests through ages,” she answered, in a low, harsh tone. “Thou art mine enemy. I, my people and my land are doomed.”
“This, then, was the reason that I was cast into the lion-pit,” I observed.
She nodded in acquiescence, adding, “It was proposed that thou shouldst be devoured by the wild beasts as recompense for thine intrepidity; but I rescued thee because—because, I wished to hear thy story from thine own lips.”
“Already have I told thee all,” I answered. “This thy land is known to the world beyond only by vague legends and the unwritten romances of story-tellers. When I return, I will tell my fellows of the wonders I have witnessed within thy brilliant kingdom.”
“No,” she answered, rising with true regal dignity, yet trembling with anger. “Thou shalt never go back, for to thee, as to all men, this is the Land of the No Return. To kill thee will only hasten disaster upon myself, therefore, thou shalt remain my slave, and lest thou shouldst attempt to escape, thou shalt never leave my side, either by day or by night. I hold thee in servitude irrevocably. When the Day of Destruction, foretold by the prophets, cometh, then shall thine heart be torn out whilst thou art still alive, and given to Ninep, my tame lioness, to devour at a mouthful.”
I bowed, smiling bitterly; but no retort escaped my lips. Her strange, weird manner held me spellbound.
“At least it shall be known,” she cried, angrily, “that I hold in bondage, as my personal slave, the man who hath entered our land to bring evil upon us. Attempt not to escape, or assuredly will I slay thee with mine own hand,” and she drew from her girdle of emeralds a short, keen knife, with hilt fashioned like a winged bull, which she kept therein concealed.
“Thou appearest to consider me as harbinger of ill,” I answered, with knit brows. “I have no design upon thee or thine. Love of adventure and a secret quest have led me hither.”
“A secret quest!” she cried. “What was it?”
“I had heard stories of wonders within thy land, and sought its whereabouts,” I said, ambiguously.
“Then, thou didst discover the secret entrance; the mystery that hath remained hidden through an hundred ages?”
“I did, O Istar,” I replied. “Long I toiled in the darkness beneath the foundations of the rock of thy Moon-god, and emerged into thy wondrous country, with its city more amazing than any mine eyes have ever beheld.”
“Art thou dazzled?” she asked, smiling for the first time.
“Indeed I am, O Queen,” I replied. “The magnificence of thy city, the splendour of this thy palace, and the beauty of thy face entranceth me. Of a verity thine is a world apart, and thou art goddess and queen in one.”
She fixed her clear, wonderful eyes upon me, and her breast, covered with jewels, slowly heaved and fell. In her gaze I noticed, for the first time, a curious expression, and her manner was undisguisedly coquettish.
“Then, why dost thou desire to leave our land of Ea? Why not remain here in happiness and contentment?” she asked, raising her pencilled brows, and toying with the long, gold pendant hanging from her ear.
“Because,” I answered, frankly, “because I am pledged to a woman who loveth me.”
“Who loveth thee!” she cried, fiercely. “Who is the woman?”
“Azala, daughter of the Sultan ’Othman, of Sokoto,” I answered.
She was silent for a long time. Her white, well-formed hands twitched nervously.
“Azala,” she repeated slowly, in a hollow voice. “And thou desirest to return because thou lovest her?”
I nodded.
“The penalty for thine intrepidity is death,” she continued, gravely. “For the present I spare thee, but thou shalt die when it pleaseth me. I am Istar, the ruler who holdeth her enemies in the hollow of her hand.”
“I am not thine enemy,” I protested.
“Thou art!” she cried, with flashing eyes. “Thou, son of Anu, art the Destroyer whose coming hath been foretold.”
“I am prepared to serve thee, and to prove to thee that I have entered thy land without evil intent,” I said.
“Be it so,” she answered, drawing herself up suddenly. “Thou shalt serve me as slave, and attend me everywhere; but while I have breath thou shalt never return unto thy master Anu, the god of Destruction, who dwelleth in the land afar.”
Her agitation was intense. In her excitement she stood beside her great crystal throne, grasping with both hands one of the human-headed monstrosities which served as arms, while her pale face had assumed a haggard look, and around her eyes were large, dark rings. This woman who, as Queen of the ancient realm, was also worshipped by every man and woman as Istar, the Goddess of Love, possessed an extraordinary personality. In features, in manner, in her luxurious mode of life, she was remarkable; while, as I had already had illustration, she was cruel, quick-tempered and relentless, overlooking no fault, and holding her unique position as some supernatural ruler of earth. The legend current throughout Ea, prophesying the appearance of a visitant and the downfall of the city, was extremely unfavourable to me, I knew; nevertheless, I recollected my pledge to Azala, my long and adventurous journey thither, and now that I was actually at last in Ea I was more than ever determined to fathom the mystery that my well-beloved had alleged would be revealed unto me. The strange life about me held me entranced with wonder. Everything was upon a scale so colossal and extravagantly luxurious that I gazed about lost in wonder. The dwelling-place of the beautiful woman who held me captive, a palace and temple combined, was, indeed, a magnificent pile of amazing proportions and was well named the House of the Raising of the Head, for it was full of marvels at every turn. Istar’s firm determination that I should not leave her side was certainly disconcerting; nevertheless the Korân telleth us that by patience much can be accomplished; therefore, I decided to stifle the voice of protest, endure my lot, and bow to the woman who had held me humiliated as slave in sight of her brilliant court.
Again, with eyes flashing, she heaped fierce curses upon me, declaring that my life should be made a burden; that ere a moon had passed I should long for death; and that my face should never again be brightened by the eyes of the woman I loved. In the midst of a string of epithets bestowed upon me with a terrible volubility, two heralds, in golden breastplates and white-plumed helmets, entered the chamber, and raising their great brazen horns blew three loud blasts, whereat Istar, the words of reproach dying on her lips, sank among the cushions of her throne, while, almost at the same instant, the great silken curtains again parted, revealing the assembled multitude of soldiers, courtiers, eunuchs and priests, who had apparently remained awaiting their Queen’s pleasure. Erect, I stood beside the gleaming throne gazing upon the brilliant court of this curious monarch, while Ninep, the tame lioness, walked slowly past, sniffing inquiringly at her mistress, then stood licking her soft, bejewelled hand, the hand that she declared would strike me dead if I attempted to return to the world outside. Impetuosity was one of her many peculiarities. One moment so fierce was she that she would herself assassinate any who hesitated to obey her wish; the next she would smile good-humouredly, as though she knew not a moment of anger, and malice found no resting-place within her heart.
Suddenly she raised her hand, and a silence, deep and complete, fell upon the gorgeous, perfumed multitude. Ninep yawned, stretched herself at her mistress’s feet, and placing her head upon her paws, blinked lazily at those below the steps of polished silver.
“Know,” she said a moment later, in a clear, not unmusical voice, “this son of Anu beside me is indeed the Destroyer whom our fathers have expected for ages, and whom the prophets have told us will bring evil upon Ea.”
“Let him be given as food to the lions!” they shouted. “Kill him, O Istar, that he may not betray us into the hands of those who seek our destruction! Anu hath set his seal upon Ea, and our city must be overthrown, but let the spy be killed so that he may not furnish report unto those who sent him hither.”
“He shall die,” Istar replied, briefly.
A roar of approbation instantly broke forth; but next instant, again raising her hand to command quiet, the queen-goddess continued,—
“He shall die when, as my slave, he hath served me.”
“Let him die now, O Istar!” they shouted. “Gladden our hearts by letting us see the lions tear him limb from limb. He is the Destroyer, the visitant against whom the sages have warned us. Through him will the vengeance of Anu, the dread god, descend upon us. Let him die!”
“No,” she answered, both hands resting upon the crystal arms of her glittering throne. “I have spoken. He is my personal slave, bound to my side by night and by day.”
“Dost thou not fear to have a son of Anu as thy body-servant?” asked an aged priest, with flowing white beard and high head-dress of shining gold, surmounted by a star, the emblem of Istar. “He may wreak vengeance upon thee.”
“I am Istar, and know not fear,” she answered, haughtily. “Men bow to me, and women make sacrifice in my temple. For those who incur my displeasure, Merodach, the protector of mankind, will not mediate.”
Then the queen-goddess nodded towards a man of tall stature, attired in a robe of dead black. Again the trumpets sounded thrice, as signal for her captains to come forward and present their reports. They came, one by one, advancing to the foot of the steps, bowing upon one knee, and obtaining the sanction of their sovereign upon various matters.
At last, when about twenty had been received and dismissed, a man older than the rest, and wearing a breastplate in which rubies were set in the form of a great star within a circle, advanced, knelt before the bewitching Queen, and mumbled some words that I could not catch.
Istar inclined her head slightly in approbation. Then, bidding the white-headed warrior to rise, said aloud,—
“Know, Larsa, this stranger that is within our gates hath discovered the Rock of the Moon-god, and entered into our presence thereby. The curse of Anu, the Progenitor, who changeth not the decree coming forth from his mouth, hath fallen. Go with thine hosts far beyond the Mountains of the Mist even unto the confines of Ea, and there search long and diligently, so that thou mayest discover and defend the secret way. Let not the feet of those of evil defile our land, for assuredly the sign is set upon us, and destruction threateneth. Thy valiant hosts must avert it.”
“Thy will shall be done, O divine patroness,” the old man answered, bowing low till his beard almost swept the pavement. “I will haste to do thy bidding.”
“May Merodach encompass thee with his shield that none can penetrate,” she exclaimed, as, turning, he went forth to lead his soldiers in search of the strange, natural gate by which I had entered.
For an hour the queen-goddess continued to receive those who craved audience, giving advice, hearing petitions, and dispensing justice. Then her brows knit, she grew tired, and at her command the great apartment was cleared of all except the twelve slaves whose duty it was to cool her with their huge fans of flamingoes’ wings.
“Thou hast not told me thy name,” she exclaimed, suddenly turning upon me.
“Thy servant is called Zafar,” I answered.
“So be it,” she said, glancing at me quickly, with sinister look. She paused a moment, then, rising languidly from her seat, slowly descended the steps, followed by all her retinue, including myself.
“Depart not from my sight,” she commanded, turning towards me. “Where I go, there shalt thou go also.”
Through the great hall she led the way into a smaller apartment, hung with gorgeous stuffs, where, in an alcove beyond, was a great couch supported by four lions in silver, with curtains of purple worked with silver. In the centre of the chamber was an upright conical stone, black, with many lines of arrowheads engraved thereon. It was, I afterwards learned, the symbol of Baal, the ruler and vivifier of nature.
Her women, priestesses of Istar, attired in loose robes of pure white, with their unbound hair secured by a golden fillet, unloosed her heavy girdle of emeralds which confined her waist, removed her little slippers of snake skin, and again bathed her face with some delicate perfume. Then they tenderly laid her to rest upon the couch, and while four men-at-arms, with drawn swords, took up their positions as guards, two at head and two at foot, they threw themselves down upon the lion-skins spread about. Before the alcove, wherein reclined the queen, a veil of silver sheen descended, for already her wondrous eyes had closed, and, tired out, she had fallen into a light slumber.
I, her slave, sat upon the floor, hugging my knees, deep in thought, and waiting, with the silent guards, until the dawn. Truly my position was a remarkable one. I had found that which all men before had failed to discover. I was actually living in a world unknown.
But one desire possessed me—to return to Azala.
In the many days which followed the first night of my captivity I witnessed innumerable marvels. The pageantry in the palace, known to all as E Sagilla, “The House of the Raising of the Head,” was of amazing brilliance; and in the great city, sixty English miles in circumference, and built with extreme regularity, with broad, straight streets crossing one another at right angles, the sights which met my gaze filled me with astonishment. Though the dwellers in that long-forgotten kingdom possessed many inventions similar to those I had witnessed in London, yet their religion, manners and customs were the same as those which existed four thousand years ago, when the all-powerful Semiramis caused her record to be engraved in the foundations of the rock she consecrated to her supposed father, the Moon-god, Sin, “the lord of the waxing and the waning.” The buildings were on colossal scale, with towers reaching to a far greater height than any I had seen in European cities, and the display of gold, silver and gems, mostly brought there ages ago by the notable woman who founded Babylon and conquered Ethiopia, held me in constant wonderment. In the great courts of the temple-palace I watched the sacrifice of rams upon the triangular fire-altars, attended by long-bearded priests of Gibil, the Fire-god, in robes whereon were embroidered fir cones, apt emblems of fire; and everywhere I noticed symbols of the celestial deities, while power was typified indiscriminately on every hand by colossal figures of winged, human-headed, and sometimes eagle-headed, lions and bulls.
Through one whole moon I had been slave of Istar, and scarcely left her side for a single instant by night or day, hourly witnessing sights that were amazing, and occupying my leisure in deciphering the profuse cuneiform inscriptions graven on almost every wall or door-lintel by hands that ages ago had crumbled to dust. From them I learned much regarding the history of that wondrous kingdom; how, before the death of Semiramis, she was worshipped as Istar, Goddess of Love. In some inscriptions I found her referred to as “Queen of the Crescent Moon,” “Queen of the Stars,” and “Queen of Heaven”; in others as “Queen of War and Battle,” “Archeress of the Gods,” and “Queen of all the Gods;” but it was distinctly stated in several of the colossal wall-pictures that, before she died, she decreed that her daughter should be ruler of Ea, and that all should worship her as Istar. Each Queen should remain unmarried until the age of forty, and should be worshipped as Goddess of Love, and each King should be known as Hea, and should place his daughter upon the throne in preference to his son. Through four thousand years this wonderful kingdom had existed in all its magnificence, in defiance to Anu, the god of Destruction, and during that period the dignity of queen-goddess had been handed down from generation to generation, its bearer dwelling within that great temple raised by the autocratic Empress who founded Babylon. Those giant walls, with their sculptured feasts and victories, had remained intact, black and polished like iron, colossal monuments of Assyria’s greatness, and as in the silence of night, when I watched while Istar slept, I gazed upon them and reflected, wondering whether Allah would ever allow me to escape to tell the world of my amazing discovery of this mysterious, unknown realm.
Many were the feasts held within that colossal palace, but chief among them was the Festival of Tammuz, “The only-begotten son of Dav-Kina, the lady of the earth.” This, held about one moon after my captivity, was upon a scale of unsurpassed magnificence, the feasting, drinking and merry-making continuing throughout seven days and nights. The court of the garden of the palace wherein Istar feasted the people of Ea was fitted up with white, green and blue hangings, fastened with cords of fine linen and purple to silver rings and pillars of marble; the couches of the female guests were of gold and silver upon the pavement of red, blue, white and black marble. Men sat in high chairs of ivory, and drank wine from golden vessels, slaves served them with various fruits and viands, and each hour the guests were entertained with music and dancing. Of musical instruments there were but two kinds—a drum, and a sort of triangular lyre with ten strings, held in the left hand, and struck with a plectrum held in the right. Exalted upon her dais, in the centre of the beautiful garden, sat Istar, with queenly hauteur gazing down upon the animated scene. Every house throughout the city was illuminated, for the Festival of Tammuz was celebrated by all, and many were the magnificent banquets given by high officers and notabilities. Twice Istar drove through the streets in her gilded chariot, drawn by eight milk-white stallions, I, her slave, sitting at her side. She did this, no doubt, to publicly demonstrate to the populace the fact that she held me captive, for as we passed along the straight, broad thoroughfares she was greeted by the wild plaudits of the multitude, while upon my head curses most terrible were showered.
When on the last night of the great festival the music had been silenced, the guests had left their couches, the dancing-girls had retired, and we were alone together in the silent, moonlit garden, she sighed deeply, glanced at me for an instant, and rose. Her heavy anklets of gold clinked as she descended the silver steps of her throne, and, as mutely I followed, I saw that high above us still shone the single shaft of intense white light from the summit of the towering Temple of the Seven Lights. It was, I had learned from one of the priests, known as The Eye of Istar, a light that had shone forth, night and day without ceasing, ever since Semiramis herself made the first sacrifice in that high temple tower of seven coloured stories, consecrated to the Goddess of Love. On the summit of that tower every woman was bound by the law of Babylon’s founder to make sacrifice to Istar, and it was the duty of the white-robed vestal virgins to keep the light burning incessantly, to remind the people that Istar watched over them and was their ruler. Ofttimes I had been seized with curiosity to ascend that tower where all women, rich and poor alike, were compelled to prostrate themselves at least once in their lives, and it was with satisfaction that I now saw my royal mistress slowly approach the entrance to the temple tower. As we crossed the great court the huge crowd that had assembled bowed in silence. At the portals twelve fair-haired girls, in robes of pure white, greeted her with great ceremony; then, headed by a wizened old priest, with snowy beard and horned cap of gold, surmounted by a star, we commenced to climb the wide flight of winding marble stairs. The ascent was long and toilsome. At each stage we halted, and a prayer was recited to the god to whom it was dedicated, until at length we reached the great domed pavilion that formed its summit.
From above, the unquenchable light shone down upon the gigantic city, while the roof of pale blue, decorated with golden stars, was supported by twisted columns of gilded marble. Ibises, the sacred birds of love, flitted in and out at will, and in the centre, raised upon a silver pedestal from the pearl and ebony mosaic pavement, stood an undraped statue of Istar herself. Its sight entranced me, for in her right hand she was represented as holding two asps entwined, the same symbol as that branded upon my breast!
Around the image of the Goddess of Love, a crowd of young women and girls from the city were kneeling. Some had their lips pressed to its feet; others were lounging upon skins gazing away out upon the brightly-lit city. The scene was indeed a striking one. The bright moon shed her light full upon the statue, causing it to stand out in bold relief, while the golden braziers, here and there, burned perfumes which filled the air with a delicious, intoxicating fragrance. When we entered all was silence, but the instant it became known that Istar herself was present, with one accord the worshippers rose, struggling with one another to kiss the hem of her gold-embroidered robe.
Once each year, at the conclusion of the Festival of Tammuz, Istar herself ascended to pass the night within the temple, and pose in the flesh as the Goddess of Love. Hence, on that night, great crowds assembled to see her enter the tower, and the unmarried women of Ea, who had not before made sacrifice, congregated at the summit. The scene was strangely impressive. Surrounded by her white-robed priestesses, she stood before the image in the ekal, or main nave, and raised her bare white arms to heaven.
When all her votaries had kissed her robe, and ranged themselves around her, a dead silence fell. Suddenly, in clear, musical tones, her hands still raised above her head, whereon was fixed the golden star, she commenced to chant the beautiful hymn to the Moon-god, Sin,—
“Merciful one, begotten of the universe, who foundeth his illustrious seat among living creatures. Long-suffering father, full of forgiveness, whose hand upholdeth the lives of mankind. Lord, thy divinity is as the wide heavens, and filleth the unknown seas with its fear. On the surface of the peopled world he biddeth the sanctuary be placed—he proclaimeth their name. The father, the begotten of gods and men, who causeth the shrine to be founded, who established the offering, who proclaimeth dominion, who giveth the sceptre, who shall fix destiny unto a far-distant day, look down upon this our House of Lustre, and let it never be cast down.”
Then the women, casting aside their outer garments of silk and purple, knelt and prayed long, invoking the indwelling spirit of life, called “Zi,” following it by a supplication to Mul-lil “lord of the night sky,” and concluding with an appeal to Istar herself, crying,—
“In heaven, who is supreme? Thou alone art supreme! On earth, who is supreme? Thou alone art supreme!”
It was a curious and weird form of adoration and worship. The Goddess of Love stood erect and statuesque, without moving a muscle, as each worshipper, advancing, paid her homage. Some kissed her finger-tips, others her bare feet, each making declaration that they were henceforward her slaves. Meanwhile, the priestesses, all young women of extreme beauty, chanted softly strange hymns to the great Baal, head-father and creator of the universe, and with the moonlight streaming full upon her, Istar looked, indeed, one of entrancing beauty, yet cold as an icicle. Above her head the statue, its stone arm outstretched, held the strange symbol that Azala and I bore upon our breasts, and as I stood watching I saw with what intense devotion the women worshipped her. Unseemly rites were undoubtedly connected with the worship of Istar, the Babylonian Venus, in the time-effaced city of Sardanapalus, but here there were no degrading symbols; indeed, the surroundings in this elevated temple showed considerable purity of taste and feeling, and the sacrifices were in the form of gold, jewels, food and wine.
At length, after many prayers and supplications to each of the gods of the celestial triad, Istar turned, and, accompanied by her priestesses, slowly moved away, her votaries still remaining prostrate upon their faces.
Behind the ekal in which she had been standing was a veil of golden thread, which, being drawn aside, disclosed the sacred seat or couch called the papakha, the holy of holies of the Goddess of Love.
When we had passed beyond the veil, it fell behind us, and the priestesses, having attended Istar at her elaborate toilet, she reclined with languor upon the purple velvet cushions of her soft couch. Meanwhile, the votaries were leaving, and, when the veil was again raised, the ekal was deserted. But only for a moment. An aged man, in long, black gown, came forth from the darkness, and, standing on the spot where the goddess had stood, raised both hands towards her. His appearance was evidently part of the annual custom, for it was apparent that the priestesses and slaves, cooling their mistress with their great fans, had expected him.
Scarcely, however, had he opened his mouth, when Istar, springing from her couch, stood glaring at him with threatening gesture. Her hands trembled as words escaped her, “Ah! I had forgotten! Forgotten!” she wailed. Unsteadily she swayed forward for a moment, then sank back again upon her couch with blanched countenance.
“Lo!” cried the aged prophet, in a croaking voice, “through three-score years have I uttered warning!—the same warning, that since the day of the founder of Ea, hath been spoken at the conclusion of each Festival of Tammuz, son of the Lady of the Earth.”
“Yea, I know! I know!” gasped Istar. “Loose not thy tongue’s strings. Each year thou hast repeated thy prophecy; spare me its recital to-night!”
“Semiramis, our great queen, commanded that it should be uttered, therefore seek not to stay my words,” he answered reproachfully, in a grave voice. “Thus saith Anu, god of Destruction, ‘Semiramis, when she built Ea, made no sacrifice, because she feared me not. Behold, I will direct unto Ea a stranger, who shall enter within its gates, and the day of whose coming none shall know. He shall be as a sign unto you that I will bring upon Ea a king of kings from the north, with horses and with chariots, and with horsemen, and with companies, and with much people. He—’”
“No!” cried Istar, covering her haggard face with her hands, while the tame lioness stood watching, her tail sweeping the ground. “I know thou art the skeleton of the Feast of Tammuz, but spare me thy disconcerting words.”
The prophet, however, continued, heedless of her earnest supplications.
”‘He shall kill the daughters of Ea in the field; and he shall make a fort against thee, and cast a mount against thee, and lift up the buckler against thee. And he shall set engines of war against thy walls, and with his axes shall he break down these towers. By reason of the abundance of his horses, their dust shall cover thee; the walls of Ea shall shake at the noise of the horsemen, and of the wheels and of the chariots, when he shall enter into thy gates, as men enter into a city wherein is made a breach. With the hoofs of his horses shall he tread down all thy streets; he shall put thy people to the sword, and thy strong garrisons shall be against them as a weak reed. And they shall kill thee and send thee to the city of Ninkigat, ruler of the great land of evil, whose palace walls are clothed in dust, the inhabitants thereof wearing robes of feathers like birds. And they shall make a spoil of thy riches and a prey of thy merchandise; and they shall break down thy walls and destroy thine houses; and they shall root up thy foundation-stones, and lay thy timber and thy dust in the midst of the water.’”
Istar set her teeth. For an instant she glanced at me, the stranger foretold by the prophet; then her eyes were turned upon the man who had prophesied her downfall. I saw in their violet depths a steely glitter, as with one hand she fondled her pet Ninep. Almost as the last word left the old man’s lips she rose to her feet, and, with a word to the lioness, she pointed to the aged man who had dared to incur her displeasure. Ninep crouched at the feet of her mistress for a single instant, then, flying through the air, fixed her deadly fangs in the sage’s throat.
One loud scream of agony sounded as man and beast rolled over in deadly embrace. Next second I saw the polished pavement was defiled by blood.
Obedient to the call of her mistress, Ninep trotted back and licked her hand, leaving the prophet mangled and dead. Slaves quickly removed all evidences of the tragedy, and while they did so Istar sank back, her fair face buried among the cushions, a single sob escaping her.
That night, in gloomy mood, Istar reclined dreamily upon her soft papakha, dismissing all her priestesses and slaves, so that I remained alone with her. With my back to one of the golden pillars supporting the roof, I sat silent in thought, scarce daring to move, for fear of the dozing lioness. Istar had fallen into a troubled sleep, and lay tossing upon her couch with tumbled tresses.
A sudden murmur from her caused me to glance in her direction, when I saw her lying, still asleep, ghastly pale beneath the light of the moon. Her robe was disarranged; her delicate chest, that slowly heaved and fell, had become revealed. As I looked, I discerned, to my amazement, that it bore the device of the entwined asps, identically the same as had been branded upon me; the same as appeared on the rock-tablet of Semiramis!
Azala had spoken the truth. So far had the Mystery of the Asps been revealed. The strange link that joined me with the daughter of the Sultan ’Othman joined us both, in some unaccountable manner, to the goddess-queen of this ancient land of marvels. I rose, and, creeping nearer, minutely examined the mystic mark upon her chest. It was seared as deeply, and presented a blemish as hideous, as my own. Lying, as she was, in graceful abandon, with one arm flung over her head, her chest rose and fell each time she breathed, but suddenly she drew a long, deep-drawn sigh, and her eyes opened.
I started back, but already she had detected me. “Well?” she exclaimed, regarding me with dreamy glance through her half-opened lashes, slowly readjusting the white silken robe that had come apart at the neck. “Why hast thou approached me?”
“Thou hast slept uneasily,” I answered, “and a hideous mark upon thy breast became revealed.”
Languidly she raised her head upon her arm, and with eyes still half-closed, like Ninep, her dozing lioness, she said,—
“Come hither, Zafar. Come to my side.”
Obediently I approached her couch. Her breast rose, causing her diamonds to sparkle. During the past few days I had not failed to notice in her manner an entire change. She accorded me more liberty; she no longer placed her spiteful heel upon my neck as sign of triumph, and seldom she spoke to me with wilful gesture. Once, the amazing thought had flashed across my mind that she actually loved me, but at such absurd notion I had laughed and placed it aside.
“What seest thou in the Mark of the Asps to amaze thee?” she asked, when I had drawn nigh to her, and Ninep sniffed my legs inquisitively.
“It is as a strange mark,” I answered. “I was wondering what its meaning might be.”
“Ah!” she sighed. “Its meaning none can tell, save that those who bear it are the doomed.”
“The doomed!” I gasped. “Why?”
“Upon his accursed Anu setteth his mark. Hence it is that I bear it,” she answered, gravely. “Thou art mine enemy, Zafar,” she added, after a slight, painful pause. “To-night have I sent away my women, so that I may speak with thee, the stranger whose coming hath been prophesied for ages. By all men in Ea I am supposed to hate thee, yet—yet—”
Again she paused, looking at me intently with eyes in which burned the unmistakable light of love.
“Yet thou canst not bring thyself to cast me into the lions’ pit,” I observed, smiling bitterly. “Better that thou shouldst give me my liberty, and allow me to depart.”
“Never,” she cried, starting up. “Thou shalt never leave me. If I am doomed to die, thou shalt die also.”
“Why?” I asked. “I have wrought thee no ill.”
“Thou hast struck the chord of affection within my heart, Zafar,” she said, passionately.
“Already have I told thee that Azala, daughter of the Sultan ’Othman, is betrothed to me,” I answered, not in the least surprised at this passionate declaration.
“Heed her not,” she cried. “Already I know that Anu, though he sendeth thee hither as sign of the overthrow of Ea, hath, nevertheless, placed upon thee also the Mark of the Asps.”
I started. I had no idea that she had ascertained the secret hidden beneath my robe of crimson silk. Some slave must, at her bidding, have examined my chest as I slept.
“And if so?”
“Then thou wilt assuredly meet with a violent end.” I smiled, and she regarded me with knit brows.
“If thou art my friend,” I said, “then thou wilt release me.”
“No. None departs from or enters the Land of the No Return,” she answered. “Since the foundation of Ea one man only escaped into the outer world. It happened ages ago. He never returned hither, for on the day the calamity befel us Anu was wroth, a great earthquake occurred, and the gate by which he made his exit became closed for ever.”
Already had I heard a similar legend during my long and eager search for the Rock of Sin, the Moon-god, the “illuminator of the earth and lord of laws.”
“Who was the man who escaped?” I inquired.
“Legend saith his name was Nebo,” she answered. “Knowest thou any of that name?”
In the negative I replied, reflecting upon the strange story of the escape of this man beyond the confines of Ea, and wondering what adventures befel him.
Then she went on to relate how, on many occasions, there had appeared in cloud-pictures, or mirages, inverted pictures of the unapproachable world beyond; and I, in turn, explained how the Rock of the Moon-god and the Mountains of the Mist appeared frequently in the desert mirage in far-off Kano.
“Hast thou ever seen Ea mirrored on the clouds?” she inquired.
“Never,” I answered. “Thy city is unknown, hence my speechless amazement at its discovery.”
“Why desirest thou to return to thy land of evil?” she asked, stretching forth her hand and softly stroking Ninep’s sleek back.
“Because of the woman I love.”
She bit her lip to the blood, and glanced at me with an evil glint in her bright eyes.
“Thou carest naught for me,” she observed, reproachfully, regarding me sharply with narrowing brows.
“I am but thy captive,” I responded. “As Queen of Ea thou mayest not allow love to enter thine heart until thou growest old. Why dost thou taunt me?”
Mention of the rigid law of her great ancestress, Semiramis, caused her to frown.
“So be it,” she answered, hoarsely. “If thou wilt not renounce thy love for this woman who dwelleth in thine accursed land, then thou art still my slave.”
“I am content,” I said.
“Thou hast chosen?” she inquired, slowly rising to her feet and standing erect before me.
“I have chosen.”
“Then to-morrow the lions shall rend thee in full gaze of the assembled people of Ea, who shall make sport of thy supplications, and thy cries shall be as music unto their ears,” she burst forth, in a sudden fury of passion. “Anu shall rend thee, Nergal, lord of death, shall seize thee, and thou shalt be accursed by the Fever-god, and cast into the dread kingdom of Niffer. Baal shall show thee no mercy; Adarmalik, lord of the noonday sun, shall hide his light from thee; Shamas shall blind thee, and thou shalt exist for ever in the torments prepared by Ninkigat in the burning land where all is dust. Thou hast disdained the favours that I would have bestowed upon thee, despised me, and flung back the love that I would have given thee. Therefore shalt thou die. I, Istar, ruler of Ea, have spoken.”
Her beautiful face was distorted by fierce, uncontrolled passion, vituperation fell from her lips with a rapidity which almost choked her, her mass of dead gold hair had escaped from its fillet and fell in profusion about her shoulders, while her white, filmy robe, open again at the neck, disclosed the hideous, mysterious blemish scarred dark red upon the white flesh—the mark that was branded upon the woman I loved as well as the queen-goddess who had condemned me to death.
My dogged silence enraged her. It seemed as though during the weeks of my captivity she had unconsciously grown to regard me with affection, and held me as slave of her caprice. Yet my thoughts, ever of Azala, were so full that I had never before actually realised the position in which I now suddenly found myself.
“Thou utterest no word!” she cried. “Thou art still defiant. To-morrow wilt thou crave mercy at my feet, but I will show thee none. Thou hast sneered at my power, set at naught my good-will, and refused to abandon all thought of return to thy land of evil, and the woman who holdeth thee entranced. Thou shalt never look upon her face again!”
I turned away from the irate beauty, whose hands were clenched within their palms until the nails drew blood, and without replying, slowly crossed the polished pavement of the temple, passing over the spot whereon the hapless prophet had fallen beneath Ninep’s deadly claws, and advancing to the sculptured parapet of alabaster, whereon I leaned in thought, gazing down upon the gay, brightly-lit city, and the great buildings and courts which comprised the wonderful House of the Raising of the Head. Ninep uttered a low growl. The moon shone brightly, lighting up the extensive view on every hand. Below lay the well-remembered flight of steps, brilliantly illuminated, with their double row of guards in shining breastplates. Beyond the palace walls the lights of the streets showed in long, straight lines. Above, the shaft of intense white brilliance, the inextinguishable Eye of Istar, still streamed forth upon the wondrous city of Ea, lighting up its terraces, its obelisks and colossal temples like day, while, far away in the distance, the snowy, serrated crests of the Mountains of the Mist showed high, ghost-like, mysterious.
Beyond lay freedom and Azala. Already had I witnessed that Istar, quick-tempered and passionate, was capable of any cruelty or treachery, even towards her most trusted friends. This woman, worshipped as Goddess of Love, was, indeed, full of grace, beautiful in form, with a face almost flawless; but the cruelties she practised almost daily were revolting. To incur her anger meant death, either upon the torture-wheel or in the lion-pit, and ofttimes, while standing beside her, I had noticed the exultant pleasure with which she condemned men and women to torture or to the grave. The people of Ea called her goddess; I thought her a fiend.
As over the parapet I gazed aimlessly away across the gigantic capital of this world-forgotten race, it became impressed upon me that, to save my life, I must at once seek means of escape. But how? As Istar’s personal slave, it seemed impossible to elude her vigilance; even if I escaped outside the city my way back to the Rock of the Moon-god was uncertain. I recollected also that within the gloomy cavern there existed an utterly impassable barrier between myself and the world I had left—that roaring inrush of water descending to feed the subterranean river. Times without number thoughts of freedom had possessed me, but on each occasion I had been forced to abandon hope, resign myself to the galling captivity in which I existed, and possess my soul in patience.
Now, however, I had become desperate. The moon, while I stood watching long and earnestly, became obscured by a dense black cloud shaped like a falcon’s wing, which left only a patch of green sky half round its disc. On either side of the city the great plain stretched dark and wide. The shapes of the mountains could not be discerned, but showed like a heavy cloud bank against the horizon. My strained eyes could discern a speck of light afar off, which, as it was too low for a star, could only mark the existence of some house on the distant mountain side. The silence could be felt.
The day of feasting and mad gaiety had, it seemed, exhausted all the voices of nature as well as those of men.
At length I turned towards the papakha. Istar had sunk back upon her purple couch, wearied by the continuous gaiety of the festival, and forgetful of her wrath, had again fallen asleep, her head thrown back upon a great, tasselled cushion of rose silk. One of her slippers had fallen off, disclosing her bare foot, with its heavy, bejewelled anklets, while near her Ninep had stretched her long body, with her snout between her paws. Between us stood the life-sized statue upon its pedestal, the image of Love, before which all women of Ea bowed and made sacrifice. Ghostly it looked in the pale half-light with the symbol of the entwined asps held within its right hand, and as I advanced towards it I touched its base. The stone had been worn smooth as glass by the lips of priestesses and votaries who had worshipped at that shrine through all the ages since Semiramis; the feet and legs were worn hollow and out of symmetry by the osculations of the millions of women who had ascended that tower to the gorgeous Temple of Istar to prostrate themselves. The image stretched forth its arm over me ominously, and the perfumed smoke from the braziers, whirled up by a breath of the night wind, wrapped around me a subtle, almost suffocating, fragrance.
Istar slept on with heaving breasts. One chance alone remained to me—a dash for liberty.
Advancing cautiously a few paces I craned my neck to satisfy myself that her slumber was not feigned; then, with a last look upon her, I turned and crept silently away into the shadow where the stairs descended.
I had just reached them, when a faint rustling behind me caused me to glance quickly round. In an instant I recognised the truth. Istar had followed me. With a cry of rage she sprang upon me, her poniard gleaming in her hand. Long ago she had vowed to kill me if I attempted to leave her side, and it was now her intention to carry out her threat. One fierce blow she aimed at my heart, and in warding it off the blade gashed my arm. At the same moment, however, I wrested the weapon from her hand, and held her tightly by the wrists.
To free herself she struggled violently, but I held her powerless, when suddenly there was a low, ominous growl, and Ninep, in defence of her mistress, pounced upon me, her great claws fixing themselves in my left shoulder. Instantly I recognised the ferocity of my second adversary, and releasing Istar, I plunged the long, keen knife full into the eye of the lioness.
Fortunately my aim proved true, for in a few seconds the great brute, her brain penetrated, fell back helpless and dying.
Again Istar, with the fury of a virago, rushed upon me, declaring that I should not escape. My first impulse was to kill her. Indeed, I confess I raised my knife to plunge it into her breast, but next second gripped her by the throat, and hurled her back upon the pavement where she lay huddled in a heap, stunned, motionless, and unconscious.
With a final glance at her inanimate form, I secreted the knife within my silken girdle, then dashed down the stairs—down, down, through the six deserted temples, tier on tier, until I reached the silent courtyard, which I hastily crossed and went to Istar’s private apartment, whence I took a small tablet of sun-dried clay whereon a message had been impressed. This I placed in my pouch, and, taking a staff, set forth to gain my freedom.
In fear each moment lest Istar should regain consciousness, and raise the alarm, I hurried on through the great apartments with their colossal sculptures, where scribes and courtiers, officials and soldiers, were slumbering after the week’s festivities, and at length gained the head of the brilliantly-lit flight of steps, the one way by which the royal palace could be approached.
As soon as I drew near to the head of the broad stairs the lances of the guards were interlaced from top to bottom. My passage was barred until I had explained to the two officers that I was bearer of an urgent message from Istar, and exhibited to them the tablet bearing her seal. Then only was I allowed to proceed. At each of the seven gates between the actual entrance to the palace and the brazen gate of the city, I presented my credential and was afforded free passage. In trepidation I approached one of the great doors of polished brass that closed the entrance to the city, and again drew forth the tablet. The officer of the watch scrutinised it long and carefully by the aid of his lantern, then, finding everything satisfactory, gave orders that the gate should be opened to pass out a messenger of Istar.
One of the ponderous doors creaked at last, and groaning, slowly fell back just sufficiently to allow me to pass.
“May Merodach guard thee, messenger,” shouted the officer as I went forth.
“And thee also,” I answered, as out upon the plain I sped quickly in the direction of freedom. Behind me the shaft of white light still streamed from the summit of the Temple of the Seven Lights; before me were the half-obscured Mountains of the Mist.
Once I glanced back upon the wonderful centre of a civilisation unknown to the world, then resolutely I set my face towards the pole-star, determined to put as great a distance as possible between myself and those who would undoubtedly pursue me ere the first saffron streak of dawn showed the direction of Mecca.