Books: Ardath

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A moment of breathless silence ensued,--all present seemed to be
straining their ears to catch the victim's answer. It came,--soft
and clear as a bell:

"I see a wondrous land o'er-canopied with skies of gold and
azure: . . white flowers grow in the fragrant fields, . . there are
many trees, . . I hear the warbling of many birds; . . I see fair
faces that smile upon me and gentle hands that beckon! ... Figures
that wear glistening robes, and carry garlands of roses and
myrtle, pass slowly, singing as they go! ... How beautiful they
are! How strange! ... how sweet!"

And as she uttered these words, in accents of dreamy delight, she
ascended the first step of the Shrine. Theos, looking, held his
breath in wonder and fear, while Sah-luma with a groan turned
himself resolutely away, and, pressing his forehead against the
great column where he stood, hid his eyes in his clasped hands.

The High Priestess continued:

"Come hither, O Maiden of chaste and patient life!
Rejoice greatly, for thy virtue hath pleased the gods:
The undiscovered marvels of the Stars are thine,
Earth has no more control over thee:
Heaven is thine absolute Heritage! ...
Behold! the Ship of the Sun awaits thee!
Speak! ... What seest thou?"

A soft cry of rapture came from the girl's lips.

"Oh, I see glory everywhere!".. she exclaimed.. "Light everywhere!
... Peace everywhere! ... O joy, joy! ... The face of my beloved
shines upon me,--he calls, . . he bids me come to him! ... Ah! we
shall be together at last, . . we twain shall be as one never to
part, never to doubt, never to suffer more! O let me hasten to
him! ... Why should I linger thus, when I would fain, be gone!"

And she sprang eagerly up the second and third steps of the
Sanctuary, and faced Lysia,--her head thrown back, her blue eyes
ablaze with excitement, her bosom heaving, and her delicate
features transfigured and illumined by unspeakable inward
delirious bliss. Just then the Priest Zel lifted the long, jewel-
hilted knife from the black cushion where it had lain till now,
and, crouching stealthily in the shadow behind Lysia, held it in
both bands, pointed straight forward in a level line with
Niphrata's breast. Thus armed, he waited, silent and immovable.

A slight shudder of morbid expectancy seemed to quiver through the
vast congregation, . . but Theos's nerves were strung up to such a
high pitch of frenzied horror that he could neither speak nor
sigh,--motionless as a statue, he could only watch, with freezing
blood, each detail of the extraordinary scene. Once more the High
Priestess spoke:

"Come hither, O happy Maiden whose griefs are ended:
The day of thy triumph and reward has dawned!
For thee the Immortals unveiled the mysteries of being,--
To thee, they openly declare all secrets ...
To thee the hidden things of Wisdom are made manifest:
For the last time ere thou leavest us, hear, and answer, . .
Speak!--What seest thou?"

"LOVE!" replied Niphrata in a tone of thrilling and solemn
tenderness.. "LOVE, the Eternal All, in which dark things are made
light!--Love, that is never served in vain! ... LOVE wherein lost
happiness is rediscovered and perfected! ... O DIVINE LOVE, by
whom the passion of my heart is sanctified! Absorb me in the
quenchless glory of thine Immortality! ... Draw me to Thyself, and
let me find in Thee my Soul's completion!"

Her voice sank to a low prayerful emphasis, . . her look was as of a
rapt angel waiting for wings. Lysia's gaze dwelt upon her with
slow-dilating wonder and contempt.. such a devout and earnest
supplication was evidently not commonly heard from the lips of
Nagaya's victims. At that instant, too, Nagaya himself seemed
curiously excited and disturbed,--his great glittering coils
quivered so violently, as to shake the rod on which he was
twined, . . and when his Priestess raised her mesmeric reproving
eyes toward him, he bent back his head rebelliously, and sent a
vehement hiss through the silence, like the noise made by the
whirl of a scimitar.

Suddenly, and with deafening abruptness, a clap of thunder, short
and sharp as a quick volley of musketry, crashed overhead,--
accompanied by a strange circular sweep of lightning that blazed
through the windows of the Temple, illumining it from end to end
with a brilliant blue glare. The superstitious crowd exchanged
startled looks of terror, . . the King moved uneasily and glanced
frowningly about him,--it was plainly manifest that no one had
forgotten the disastrous downfall of the Obelisk, ..and there
seemed to be a contagion of alarm in the very air. But Lysia was
perfectly self-possessed, . . in fact she appeared to accept the
threat of a storm as an imposing, and by no means undesirable,
adjunct to the mysteries of the Sacrificial Rite, for riveting her
basilisk eyes on Niphrata, she said in firm, clear, decisive
accents:

"The gods grow impatient! ... Wherefore, O Princess and People of
Al-Kyris, let us hasten to appease their anger! Depart, O
stainless Maid! ... depart hence, and betake thee to the Golden
Throne of the Sun, our Lord and Ruler, . . and in the Name of
Nagaya, may the shedding of thy virginal blood avert from us and
ours the wrath of the Immortals! Linger no longer, . . Nagaya
accepts thee! ... and the Hour strikes Death!"

With the last word a sullen bell boomed heavily through and
through the Temple.. and, at once, . . like a frenzied bird or
butterfly winging its way into scorching flame, . . Niphrata rushed
forward with swift, unhesitating, dreadful precision straight on
the knife outheld by the untrembling ruthless hands of the Priest
Zel! One second,--and Theos sick with horror, saw her speeding
thus, . . the next,--and the whole place was enveloped in dense
darkness!

CHAPTER XXIX.

THE CUP OF WRATH AND TREMBLING.

A flash of time, . . an instant of black, horrid eclipse, too brief
for the utterance of even a word or cry, ... and then,--with an
appalling roar, as of the splitting of huge rocks and the tearing
asunder of mighty mountains, the murky gloom was lifted, rent,
devoured, and swept away on all sides by a sudden bursting forth
of Fire! ... Fire leaped up alive in twenty different parts of the
building, springing aloft in spiral coils from the marble pavement
that yawned crashingly open to give the impetuous flames their
rapid egress, . . fire climbed lithely round and round the immense
carven columns, and ran, nimbly dancing and crackling its way
among the painted and begemmed decorations of the dome, ... fire
enwrapped the side-altars, and shrivelled the jewelled idols at a
breath, . . fire unfastened and shook down the swinging-lamps, the
garlands, the splendid draperies of silk and cloth-of-gold...fire
--fire everywhere! ... and the madly affrighted multitude, stunned
by the abrupt shock of terror, stood for a moment paralyzed and
inert, . . then, with one desperate yell of wild brute fear and
ferocity, they rushed headlong in a struggling, shrieking,
cursing, sweltering swarm toward the great closed portals of the
central aisle. As they did so, a tremendous weight of thunder
seemed to descend solidly on the roof with a thudding burst as
though a thousand walls had been battered down at one blow, . . the
whole edifice rocked and trembled in the terrific reverberation,
and almost simultaneously, the doors were violently jerked open,
wrenched from their hinges, and hurled, all burning and split with
flame, against the forward-fighting crowds! Several hundred fell
under the fiery mass, a charred heap of corpses,--the raging
remainder pressed on in frenzied haste, clambering over piles of
burning dead,--trampling on scorched, disfigured faces that
perhaps but a moment since had been dear to them,--each and all
bent on forcing a way out to the open air. In the midst of the
overwhelming awfulness of the scene, Theos still retained
sufficient presence of mind to remember that, whatever happened,
his first care must be for Sah-luma, . . always for Sah-luma, no
matter who else perished! ... and he now held that beloved comrade
closely clasped by the arm, while he eagerly glanced about him on
every side for some outlet through which to make a good and swift
escape.

The most immediate place of safety seemed to be the Inner
Sanctuary of Nagaya, . . it was untouched by the flames, and its
Titanic pillars of brass and bronze suggested, in their very
massiveness, a nearly impregnable harbor of refuge. The King had
fled thither, and now stood, like a statue of undaunted gloomy
amazement, beside Lysia, who on her part appeared literally frozen
with terror. Her large, startled eyes, roving here and there in
helpless anxiety, alone gave any animation to the deathly, rigid
whiteness of her face, and she still mechanically supported the
Sacred Ebony Staff, without apparently being aware of the fact
that the Snake Deity, convulsed through all his coils with fright,
had begun to make there-from his rapid DESCENT. The priests, the
virgins,--the poor, unhappy little singing children,--flocked
hurriedly together, and darted to the back of the great Shrine, in
the manifest intention of reaching some private way of egress
known only to themselves,--but their attempts were evidently
frustrated, for no sooner had they gone than they sped back again,
their faces scorched and blackened, and uttering cries and woeful
lamentations they flung themselves wildly among the struggling
crowds in the main body of the Temple, and fought for life in the
jaws of death, every one for Self, and no one for another! Volumes
of smoke rolled up from the ground, in thick and suffocating
clouds, accompanied by incessant sharp reports like the close
firing of guns, . . jets of flame and showers of cinders broke forth
fountain-like, scattering hot destruction on every hand, . . while a
few flying sparks caught the end of the "Silver Veil"--and
withered it into nothingness with one bright resolute flare!

Half maddened by the shrieks and dying groans that resounded
everywhere about him, and yet all the time feeling as though he
were some spectator set apart, and condemned to watch the progress
of a ghastly phantasmagoria in Hell, Theos was just revolving in
his mind whether it would or would not be possible to make a
determined climb for escape through one of the tall painted
windows, some of which were not yet reached by the fire, when,
with a sudden passionate exclamation, Sah-luma broke from his hold
and rushed to the Sanctuary. Quick as lightning, Theos followed
him, . . followed him close, as he sprang up the steps and
confronted Lysia with eager, outstretched arms. The dead Niphrita
lay near him, . . fair as a sculptured saint, with the cruel wound
of sacrifice in her breast,--but he seemed not to see that piteous
corpse of Faithfulness! His grief for her death had been a mere
transient emotion, . . his stronger earthly passions re-asserted
their tempestuous sway,--and for sweet things perished and gone to
heaven he had no further care. On Lysia, and on Lysia's living
beauty alone, his eyes flamed their ardent glory.

"Come! ... Come!" he cried.. "Come, my love--my life! ... Let me
save thee! ... Or if I cannot save thee, let us die together!"

Scarcely had the words left his lips, when the King, with a swift
forward movement like the pounce of some desert-panther, turned
fiercely upon him, . . amazement, jealousy, distrust, revenge, all
gathering stormily in the black frown of his bent vindictive
brows. His great chest heaved pantingly--his teeth glittered
wolfishly through his jetty beard, . . and in the terrible nerve-
tension of the moment, the fury of the spreading conflagration was
forgotten, at any rate, by Theos, who, stricken numb and rigid by
a shock of alarm too poignant for expression, stared aghast at the
three figures before him...Sah-luma, Lysia, Zephoranim, . .
especially Zephoranim, whose bursting wrath threatened to choke
his utterance.

"What sayest thou, Sah-luma?" he demanded in a sort of ferocious
gasping whisper ... "Repeat thy words! ... Repeat them!" ... and his
hand clutched at his dagger-hilt, while his restless, lowering
glance flashed from Lysia to the Laureate and from the Laureate
back to Lysia again.. "Death encompasses us, . . this is no time for
trifling! ... Speak!".. and his voice suddenly rose to a frantic
shout of rage, "Speak! What is this woman to thee?"

"Everything!".. returned Sah-luma with prompt and passionate
fearlessness, his glorious eyes blazing a proud defiance as he
spoke.. "Everything that woman can be, or ever shall be, unto man!
Call her by whatsoever name a foolish creed enjoins, . . Virgin-
Daughter of the Sun, or High-Priestess of Nagaya,--she is
nevertheless MINE!--and mine only! I am her lover!"

"THOU!" and with a hoarse cry, Zephoranim sprang upon, and seized
him by the throat.. "Thou liest! I,--I, crowned King of Al-Kyris,
I am her lover!--chosen by her out of all men! ... and dost thou
dare to pretend that she hath preferred THEE, a mere singer of mad
songs, to ME? ... Thou unscrupulous knave! ... I tell thee she is
MINE! .. Dost hear me?--Mine.. mine.. MINE!" and he shrieked the
last word out in a perfect hurricane of passion,--"My Queen.. my
mistress!--heart of my heart!--soul of my soul! ... Let the city
burn to ashes, and the whole land be utterly consumed, in death as
in life Lysia is mine! ... and the gods themselves shall never
part her from me!"

And suddenly releasing his grasp he hurled Sah-luma away as he
might have hurled aside a toy figure,--and a peal of reckless
musical laughter echoed mockingly through the vaulted shrine. It
was Lysia's laughter! ... and Theos's blood grew cold as he heard
its cruel, silvery ring ... even so had she laughed when Nir-jalis
died!

Sah-luma reeled backward from the King's thrust, but did not
fall,--white and trembling, with his sad and splendid features,
frozen as it were into a sculptured mask of agonized beauty, he
turned upon the treacherous woman he loved the silent challenge of
his eloquent eyes. Oh, that look of piteous pain and wonder! a
whole lifetime's wasted opportunities seemed concentrated in its
unspeakable reproach! She met it with a sort of triumphant,
tranquil indifference, . . an uncontrollable wicked smile curved the
corners of her red lips, . . the sacred Ebony Staff had somehow
slipped from her hands, and it now lay on the ground, the half-
uncoiled Serpent still clinging to it, in glittering lengths that
appeared to be quite motionless.

"Ah, Lysia, hast thou played me false?".. cried the unhappy
Laureate at last, as with a quick, impulsive movement, he caught
her round jewelled arm in a resolute grip.. "After all thy vows,
thy endearments, thy embraces, hast thou betrayed me? Speak truly!
... Art thou not all in all to me? ... hast thou not given thyself
body and soul into my keeping? To this braggart King I deign no
answer--one word of thine will suffice! ... Be brave.. be
faithful! ... Declare thy love for me, even as thou hast oft
declared it a thousand remembered times!"

Over the face of the beautiful Priestess swept a strange
expression of mingled fear, antagonism, loathing, and exultation.
Her eyes wandered to the red tongued leaping flames that tossed in
eddying rings round the Temple, running every second nearer to the
place where she stood, and in that one glance she seemed to
recognize the hopelessness of rescue and certainty of death. A
careless, haughty acceptance of her fate manifested itself in the
pallid resolve of her drawn features, . . but as she allowed her
gaze to return and dwell on Sah-luma, the old, malicious mirth
flushed and gave lustre to her loveliness, and she laughed
again...a laugh of uttermost bitter scorn.

"Declare my love for thee!" she said in thrilling accents.. "Thou
boaster! Let the gods, who have kindled this fiery end for us,
bear witness to my hatred! I hate thee! ... Aye, even THEE!".. and
she pointed at him jeeringly, as he recoiled from her in wide eyed
anguish and amazement:--"No man have I ever loved, but thee have I
hated most of all! All men have I despised for their folly, greed
and vain-glory,--I have fought them with their own weapons of
avarice, cunning, cruelty, and falsehood,--but THOU hast been even
beneath MY contempt! 'Twas scarcely worth my while to fool thee,
thou wert so easily fooled! ... 'Twas idle sport to rouse thy
passions, they were so easily roused! Poet and Perjurer, . . Singer
and Sophist! Thou to whom the Genius of Poesy was as a pearl set
in a swine's snout! ... thou wert not worthy to be my dupe, seeing
that thou camest to me already in bonds, the dupe of thine own
Self! Niphrata loved thee,--and thou didst play with and torture
her more unmercifully than wild beasts play with and torture their
prey; . . but thou couldst never trifle with ME! O thou who hast
taken so much pride in the breaking of many women's hearts, learn
that thou hast never stirred one throb of passion in MINE! ...
that I have loathed thy beauty while caressing thee, and longed to
slay thee while embracing thee! ... and that even now I would I
saw thee dead before me, ere I myself am forced to die!"

Pausing in the swift torrent of her words, her white breast heaved
violently with the rise and fall of her panting breath,--her dark,
brilliant eyes dilated, while the symbolic Jewel she wore, and the
crown of serpents' heads in her streaming hair, seemed to glitter
about her like so many points of lightning. At that instant one
side of the Sanctuary split asunder, giving way to a bursting
wreath of flames. Seeing this, she uttered a piercing cry, and
stretched out her arms.

"Zephoranim! ... Save me!"

In a second, the King sprang toward her, but not before Sah-luma,
wild with wrath, had interposed himself between them.

"Back!" he exclaimed passionately, addressing the infuriated
monarch.. "While I live, Lysia is mine!--let her hate and deny me
as she will!--and sooner than see her in thine arms, O King, I
will slay her where she stands!"

His bold attitude was magnificent,--his countenance more than
beautiful in its love betrayed despair, . . and for a moment the
savage Zephoranim paused irresolute, his scowling brows bent on
his erstwhile favorite Minstrel with an expression that hovered
curiously between bitterest enmity and reluctant reverence. There
seemed to be a struggling consciousness in his mind of the
immortality of a Poet as compared with the evanescent power of a
King,--and also a quick realization of the truth that, let his
anger be what it would, they twain were partakers in the same
evil, and were mutually deceived by the same false woman! But ere
his saving sense of justice could prevail, a ripple of discordant,
delirious laughter broke once more from Lysia's lips,--her eye
shone vindictively,--her whole face became animated with a sudden
glow of fiendish triumph.

"Zephoranim!" she cried, "Hero! ... Warrior! ... King! ... Thou
who hast risked thy crown and throne and life for my sake and the
love of me! ... Wilt lose me now? ... Wilt let me perish in these
raging flames, to satisfy this wanton liar and unbeliever in the
gods, to whose disturbance of the Holy Ritual we surely owe this
present fiery disaster! Save me, O strong and noble Zephoranim!
... Save me, and with me save the city and the people! KILL SAH-
LUMA!"

O barbarous, inexorable words!--they rang like a desolating knell
in the ears of the bewildered, fear-stricken Theos, and startled
him from his rigid trance of speechless misery. Uttering an
inarticulate dull groan, he made a violent effort to rush forward
--to serve as a living shield of defence to his adored friend, . . to
ward off the imminent blow! Too late! too late! ... Zephoranim's
dagger glittered in the air, and rapidly descended ... One gasping
cry! ... and Sah-luma lay prone,--beautiful as a slain Adonis, . .
the rich red blood pouring from his heart, and a faint, stern
smile frozen on the proud lips whose dulcet singing-speech was now
struck dumb forever! With a shriek of agony, Theos threw himself
beside his murdered comrade, . . heedless of King, Priestess,
flames, and all the out-breaking fury of earth and heaven, he bent
above that motionless form, and gazed yearningly into the fair
colorless face.

"Sah-luma! ... Sah-luma!"

No sign! ... No tremulous stir of breath! Dead--dead,--dead in his
prime of years--dead in the zenith of his glory!--all the
delicate, dreaming genius turned to dust and ashes! ... all the
ardent light of inspiration quenched in the never-lifting darkness
of the grave! ... and in the first delirious paroxysm of his grief
Theos felt as though life, time, and the world were ended for him
also, with this one suddenly destroyed existence!

"O thou mad King!" he cried fiercely, "Thou hast slain the chief
wonder of thy realm and reign! Die now when thou wilt, thou shalt
only he remembered as the murderer of Sah-luma! ... Sah-luma,
whose name shall live when thine is covered in shameful oblivion!"

Zephoranim frowned,--and threw the blood-stained dagger from him.

"Peace, clamorous fool!" he said, "Sah-luma hath gone but a moment
before me, . . as Poet he hath received precedence even in death!
When the last hour comes for all of us, it matters not how we
die, . . and whether I am hereafter remembered or forgotten I care
not! I have lived as a man should live,--fearing nothing and
conquered by none,--except perchance by Love, that hath brought
many kings ere now to untimely ruin!" Here his moody eyes lighted
on Lysia. "How many lovers hast thou had, fair soul?".. he
demanded in a stern yet tremulous voice ... "A thousand? ... I would
swear this dead Minstrel of mine was one,--for though I slew him
at thy bidding I saw the truth in his dying eyes! ... No matter!--
We shall meet in Hades,--and there we shall have ample time to
urge our rival claims upon thy favor! Ah!".. and he suddenly laid
his two strong hands on her white uncovered shoulders, and gazed
at her reproachfully as she shrank a little beneath his close
scrutiny, . . "Thou divine Traitress! Have I not challenged the very
heavens for thy sake? ... and lo! the prophecy is fulfilled and
Al-Kyris must fall! How many men would have loved thee as I have
loved? ... None! not even this dead Sah-luma, slain like a dog to
give thee pleasure! Come! ... Let me kiss thee once again ere
death makes cold our lips! False or true, thou art nevertheless
fair!--and the wrathful gods know best how I worship thy
fairness!"

And folding his arms about her, he kissed her passionately. She
clung to him like a lithe serpentine thing,--her eyes ablaze, her
mouth quivering with suppressed hysterical laughter. Pointing to
Sah-luma's body, she said in a strange excited whisper:

"Nay, hast thou slain him in very truth, Zephoranim! ... slain him
utterly? For I have heard that poets cannot die,--they live when
the whole world deems them dead,--they rise from their shut graves
and re-invest the earth with all the secrets of past time, . . Oh!
my brain reels! ... I talk mere madness! ... there is no
afterwards of death!--No, no! No gods, no anything but blankness..
forgetfulness.. and silence! ... for us, and for all men! ... How
good it is!--how excellently devised a jest! ... that the whole
wide Universe should be but a cheat of time! ... a bubble blown
into Space, to float, break, and perish,--all for the idle sport
of some unknown and shapeless Devil-Mystery!"

Shuddering, half-laughing, half-weeping, she clasped her hands
round the monarch's throat, and hid her wild eyes in his breast,
while he, unnerved by her distraction and his own inward torture,
glared about him on all sides for some glimmering chance of
rescue, but could see none. The flames were now attacking the
Shrine on every side like a besieging army,--their leaping darts
of blue and crimson gleaming here and there with indescribable
velocity, . . and still Theos knelt by Sah-luma's corpse in dry-eyed
despair, endeavoring with feverish zeal to stanch the oozing blood
with a strip torn from his own garments, and listening anxiously
for the feeblest heart-throb, or smaller pulsation of smouldering
life in the senseless stiffening clay.

All at once a hideous scream assailed his ears,--another, and yet
another rang above the crackling roar of the gradually conquering
fire, . . and half-lifting Sah-luma's body in his arms, he looked
up...O horror, horror! his nerves contracted,--his blood seemed to
turn to ice in his veins, . . his head swam giddily, . . and he
thought the moment of his own death had come, for surely no man
could behold the sight he saw and yet continue to live on! Lysia
the captor was made captive at last! ..bound, helpless,
imprisoned, and hopelessly doomed, ..Nagaya had claimed his own!
The huge Snake, terrified beyond all control at the bursting
breadth of fire environing the shrine, had turned in its brute
fear to the mistress it had for years been accustomed to obey, and
had now, with one stealthy noiseless spring, twisted its uppermost
coil close about her waist, where its restless head, alarmed eyes,
and darting fangs all glistened together like a blazing cluster of
gems! the more she struggled to release herself from its deathful
embrace, the tighter its body contracted and the more maddened
with fright it became. Shriek upon shriek broke from her lips and
pierced the suffocating air, . . while with all his great muscular
force Zephoranim the King strove in desperate agony to tear her
from the awful clutch of the monster he had but lately knelt to as
divine! In vain, ..in vain! ... the strongest efforts were
useless, ... the cruel, beautiful, pitiless Priestess of Nagaya
was condemned to suffer the same frightful death she had so often
mercilessly decreed for others! Closer and closer grew the fearful
Python's constricting clasp, . . nearer and nearer swept the dancing
battalion of destroying flames! ... For one fleeting breath of
time Theos stared aghast at the horrid scene, . . then making a
superhuman effort he raised Sah-luma's corpse entirely from the
ground and staggered with his burden away, . . away from the burning
Shrine, . . the funeral pyre, as it vaguely seemed to him, of a
wasted Love and a dead passion!