Istar of Babylon: A Phantasy

  XVII

  THE WOMAN'S WOE

  On that fateful morning Belshazzar was away from the palace less thanone hour; yet when he re-entered it he was aged ten years at heart, andone, at least, in appearance. He neither saw nor heard any one as hehurried through the great court-yard to his own room, whither Ribataaccompanied him and remained with him till late afternoon, while theytwo took council together. Belshazzar was unnaturally calm. Through alltheir talk neither he nor Ribata once hinted that either knew or caredto know the identity of the murderers. For, whatever they suspected,whatever was all but a certainty, both of them were too painfully awareof Babylon's present situation not to know that any accusation theymight make of those whose power was now supreme, would do infinitelymore harm than good: would merely precipitate that frightful climax thatboth of them dreaded and neither spoke of. Therefore, after a carefuldebate, it was decided to keep the murder of Nabonidus a profound secretuntil such time as the disclosure might be safely made.

  "I charge thee as my brother, Ribata," were Belshazzar's parting wordsto his friend that day, "that thou let no man or woman, of whateverstation, know from thy lips who is king of Babylon. And save for Istar,who is as myself, none shall know it from my lips. But also, as I liveand reign, there shall come a day, not too distant, when justice shallbe done--when this foul crime shall be avenged, as never crime before,on them that have accomplished it."

  Ribata gave his promise in all devotion, and, embracing his king, badehim farewell and set off to his own abode, his mind unstrung by thefearful discovery of the morning.

  Long hours before, Belshazzar had sent a message of reassurance toBelitsum; and now, with a weary sigh of relief, he turned his stepstowards the distant apartments of his wife and child. With Istar, as heknew, was peace and sympathy. Never yet had she failed to understandhim, and to offer him in his trials the comfort that he needed. Hismind, like his heart, was absolutely hers. Arrived at the threshold ofthe room where, at this hour, she was always to be found, he stopped,his hand upon the curtain. Some one within had been singing. Now,noiseless as was his approach, the voice was silent. The curtain waspushed aside. Istar stood before him with a smile in her eyes.

  "I felt thy presence, lord," she said, in such a tone that his facekindled with love-light. "Thou--Belshazzar! Art thou ill?"

  "Yea, at heart," he answered. "Not in body. Be not afraid. Let me comein to thee, that I may tell thee Babylon's new woe."

  Istar took him gently by the hand and led him into the apartment. Insidestood Baba, holding the baby to her breast. It was she whose voiceBelshazzar had heard. Belshazzar greeted the little slave, and thenIstar, knowing how he wished to be alone with her, whispered a word toBaba, who a moment later went quietly away.

  When they were alone Belshazzar sank back on the divan in the corner,and Istar, laying her baby upon the bed, seated herself at her lord'sfeet, laid her hands in his, and anxiously scanned his care-worn face.

  "Kurush hath stormed the walls, Belshazzar? The city is taken?" sheasked.

  "Nay, my beloved. My father hath been murdered in the city--in thetemple of the strange gods, by the river-bank."

  "Thy father!" Istar gasped with horror. "Thy father! Oh, my lord--mylord--save thyself! If they should do this with--" Istar's head sankforward. She brought both Belshazzar's hands to her lips and held themthere in an agony of love and terror. So they remained for a long time,sorrowing together silently: Istar for her lord, Belshazzar for thecity. But Istar's presence brought comfort to the heart of the king, andher touch filled him with that high sense of protectiveness thatgenerates the truest courage. In this woman life had given him enough.He had neither desire nor need for further blessings. His father had notbeen to him all that a stronger man might have been. It was the horrorof that father's lonely death that now so completely overwhelmed him.But Istar, feminine, weak even, as she had come to be, brought him hisfull meed of consolation. The two of them wore the night away in councilfor Babylon; for Istar's fears for her king had now become abnormal.Belshazzar listened in surprise to her desperate prayers that hesurround himself with every protection, that he beware against venturingout at night, that he wear armor under his tunic, and that he carryweapons of defence always around with him.

  "They that sought thy father's life seek also thine," she insisted, tillin the end Belshazzar left her with the promise that he would care forhimself as he would have cared for her.

  If this promise were not to the letter kept, it was hardly to be laid atBelshazzar's door as a fault. For at such a time as this, when the citywas in such peril, an example of cowardly fear from its ruler would haveresulted badly. After the death of Nana-Babilu at Sippar, and in theface of the continued absence of Nabonidus, Belshazzar had taken onhimself the duties of absolute monarch--lord of the people and generalof the army. And certainly it never could be charged to him that heneglected these duties. Early and late, sometimes from dawn until dawnagain, he worked on those endless details of civil and military lifethat he alone could attend to. The city was in a state of siege. All thegates in Nimitti-Bel were closed, and those in Imgur-Bel doubly guarded.Also, in consideration of the fact that the food supplies coming fromthe country were cut off, the great fields between the outer and innerwalls were under cultivation. A census was taken of every soul in thecity, and preparations made for the regular daily grain allotments tocome now from the granaries, and later from the new crops when theyshould be ready for harvest. For, by careful management, no one inBabylon need ever suffer from hunger, no matter how long a siege shouldlast. This Cyrus had learned once before, six years ago; and thequestion now in the mind of every man was: Could he be made to cover itagain?

  Certainly the siege was conducted on an extraordinary plan. For ten daysthe besieging army had lain in camp before the walls of the city, yetnot an arrow had as yet been shot on either side, not a javelin hurlednor a stone slung. The handful of soldiers inside the walls were hardlymore than enough to man the watch-towers and guard the gates; and theywere under orders from Belshazzar to await developments passively.Meantime they were kept in excellent form. Every day Belshazzar reviewedthem in the great field between the walls, and daily he examined acertain number of men from his own regiment of Guti as to theirintelligence and ability. Also, late in the afternoon, it had become hiscustom to drive on top of Nimitti-Bel in his chariot, showing himself tothe enemy and to the city also. There was little danger in this drive,since the range from Cyrus' camp was too long for any known weapon, andthe height of the wall was an excellent safeguard against shots fromnearer at hand. At this time quite an extensive stable was maintained onthe giant wall. Chariots had been wheeled up the inclined plane that ledto the top of it, and orders were carried from gate to gate on horsebackalong the top. Belshazzar's wild drives on that dizzy height became oneof the favorite sights of the citizens; and it grew to be the fashionfor numbers of people of all classes to drive out to Nimitti-Bel in theafternoon, to witness the spectacle of the storm-prince in his goldenchariot lashing his four white horses madly along that smooth way, twohundred and fifty feet above the ground.

  On the afternoon of the twelfth day of the siege, one of the last daysin the month of Duzu, Charmides walked out beyond Imgur-Bel to see thismuch-talked-of sight. At this time the Greek presented rather adifferent appearance from that of six months ago. His resignation fromthe temple of Sin had proved disastrous; and there were now times whenthe meanest of food was not to be found in the house of Beltani.Charmides had no work to do, would not beg, hated the thought of thetemple, grew gaunt and big-eyed, went unkempt as to dress, and mournedover Ramua, who in turn wept over him, both of them, and Beltani, too,concealing their state from Baba with the utmost care. To-day, after atroubled hour at home, where Ramua's efforts at cheerfulness were likeblows to him, the Greek went out, in the face of a prostrating heat, toseek by rapid walking an escape from the thoughts that pursued him, andto evade the admission to himself of the inevitable end: that he must goback to the profession
of lies and of deceit; of treachery, of crimes,of death. He made his way quickly across the city and out beyond thefirst wall to a spot where green, well-watered fields stretched beforehis eyes, putting him suddenly back into his youth. He halted in hiswalk at a distance of thirty yards from the great wall, just behind agroup of people come evidently for the same purpose as his--that ofwatching Belshazzar's drive. Rather absent-mindedly the Greek noticedthe man immediately in front of him, who had been in a measure connectedwith his old life of the temple; and he watched the movements of thatlean, ill-kempt figure with the same keen sub-consciousness that onesometimes exercises when the thoughts are very intent on something else.It was in this way that he noted the sling in the right hand of the Jew.

  There was not long to wait for the coming of Belshazzar. At a littlemurmur from the men in front, Charmides turned his head and saw, fardown the wall, a black speck that gradually increased in size, andfinally resolved itself into four flying horses, harness and crestsflashing in the light of approaching sunset, that raced neck and neckunder the long, black lash wielded by him who stood alone in therattling vehicle--a figure the poise of which was beyond question royal.Charmides looked on it with undisguised admiration--the superb head withits golden coronet, the broad shoulders, to which was fastened afluttering, crimson cloak, and the hands flashing with jewels the leastof which would have kept the Greek's stricken household well fed formonths.

  Absorbed as were Charmides' eyes in the sight of the approaching figure,he nevertheless felt his gaze suddenly withdrawn to the man in front ofhim, who was now busily fumbling with the weapon in his right hand.Suddenly a stone had been fitted into the sling and aim taken, and atthe same time Charmides' slow thoughts resolved themselves. Leaningforward, he twitched the sleeve on the Jew's right arm at the moment inwhich the stone flew forth, wide of its mark, while the chariot passedsafely by. Beltishazzar, with a Hebrew exclamation, wheeled sharplyabout. Charmides faced him in silence. A look only passed between them,but it was enough. In that little time they knew each other. Charmideshad made an enemy, and the all-powerful Jew felt a twinge of fear.

  An hour after this incident Charmides and the king met, face to face, inthe middle of the A-Ibur-Sabu. Belshazzar was in his ordinary chariot,slowly returning from the walls. Charmides was on foot, going his wearyway back to the tenement of Ut. It occurred to the Greek to speak to thelord of the city on the subject of his personal safety. He thereforestopped in the road, directly in front of the royal horses. With a sharpexclamation Belshazzar drew up his reins. Catching sight of the Greek'sface, however, and recognizing it, he paused to listen when Charmidesspoke.

  "Lord prince of the Great City--live forever!" he began, formally."There was to-day an attempt upon the most royal life of the prince mylord."

  Belshazzar stared a little. "How, Greek?"

  "As the royal chariot drove along the top of Nimitti-Bel, a man, one ofthe subjects of my lord, made endeavor to fell him by a shot from asling. I, pulling his sleeve at the moment, caused the stone to fly wideof the mark. When next my lord drives it may be that I shall not be athand."

  Belshazzar looked quizzically into the face of him who spoke theselaconic words. But he found no guile in the emaciated face. Instead,there was something there that roused his interest. "Mount beside me,Greek. I have not forgotten thee. Thou shalt return with me to thepalace."

  Charmides refused. He had no desire for a cross-examination on thesubject that he had detailed as fully as he intended to the prince. Allefforts on Belshazzar's part to induce him to come were in vain.Therefore, seeing that Charmides would have his way, Belshazzar did whathe could for the very apparent signs of pecuniary distress in theyouth's appearance. Detaching from his neck a golden chain wrought withwell-cut gems, he silently held it out to the Greek.

  Charmides was much displeased. It was the first time that he had everneeded a gift, and therefore the thought of taking this one shamed him."My words, O prince, were not a suit for gifts."

  "Thy wife," suggested Belshazzar, inconsequently.

  A flicker passed through the Greek's eyes, but he did not waver. "Mylord, I shall probably re-enter the priesthood."

  "I think thee no such enemy to me. Come into my regiment of Gutium."

  "Nay. I cannot fight. I will have no blood on my hands. I follow musicalone; and music forbids murder."

  Belshazzar laughed slightly at the fellow's incomprehensible attitude."Go back, then, to temple service. I will trust thee there," he said,good-naturedly. "And now, the name of him that would have had my life?"

  Charmides opened his lips to speak, and then closed them again. "Ask menot. Only beware and guard thyself."

  The king bent his brows. "Greek, hast thou lied to me?"

  "No, lord prince."

  Belshazzar shrugged. "Out of my way, then!" he cried. And Charmidesstepped quickly out of the road while the king brought his whip over thehaunches of his steeds and started forward, tossing, as he went, thechain of gold at the feet of the Greek. Nor was he ungenerous enough tocast a single backward glance to see whether or no the hungry fellowpicked it up.

  So Belshazzar proceeded on his way back to the palace, musing rather onthe incident of his little talk with Charmides than upon itssubject--the attempt on his life. More than this one time, and in moredangerous ways than a sling-shot at a hundred yards, he had beenthreatened with death. Those very drives round the walls carried withthem the possibility of a far more frightful end. But Belshazzar's wasan adventurous nature. And danger was his life, a life that the city'sstate of quiescence had once led him to seek by other than reputablepaths.

  On his arrival at the palace he went immediately to Istar's rooms,determined to tell her nothing of the event of the afternoon, for herfears for his personal safety would be thereby enormously increased. Butwhen he came to her he found another subject ready to occupy all histhoughts. Istar was not watching for him at the door, as was herinvariable custom. Instead, he found her hanging over the bed on whichher baby lay ill--so ill that Belshazzar, on first seeing it, turnedpale for Istar's sake. And the look that he found in her face, when,with a glad cry that he had come, she turned it to him, sent a pang tohis heart.

  Istar's child, the fruit of her earth-love, had cost her her godhead,but had returned her joy a thousandfold dearer than divinity had been.Only now, as she stood bending over the helpless little form, racked asit was with mortal pain, did the greatest world-horror, the horror ofdeath, first lay its hold upon her. The thought that this little beingwhom she had brought into the world--whom, day and night since itscoming she had cherished with an all-powerful love and joy--_could_ die,could cease to live for her forever, rushed over her as the waters closeover the head of a drowning woman.

  Until an hour before the coming of Belshazzar, Istar had been alone withthe child, believing it to be suffering from some infantine ailment. Butfinally the little creature's fever was so manifestly high, and itsdistress so great, that she had commanded the attendance of the newrab-mag, a man widely celebrated for the potency of his charms. He cameat once, examined the baby from head to foot, and noted certain thingsthat caused him to turn to the mother with a look of deep anxiety.

  "Great lady," he said to her, "thou wilt do well to leave this childalone, though before dawn it die. I, Kidish-Nindar, say it. Accept mywords, and put the child from thee for the sake of the Great City overwhich thy husband rules!"

  Then Istar, in fear and amazement--quickly and sharply dismissed the manfrom her presence and turned again to the infant, that lay now in aquiet stupor. It was so that Belshazzar found her, wetting the child'sforehead with her tears, pouring forth mingled prayers and theincoherent, birdlike talk of a mother, while her own face took on thecolor of chalk, and her eyes were bright with a dread to which she wouldnot, even to herself, give form.

  The king, for a moment, took her place over the infant, and stoodregarding him while Istar told the story of the rab-mag's desertion.Belshazzar would have commanded his return had not the mothe
r forbiddenit. But when his displeasure had cooled a little, the king began toponder over the evident fear of Kidish-Nindar; and finally, biddingIstar remain where she was, he took the child in his arms, carried itacross the room, and seated himself with it upon his knees directlyunder a light. His back was turned to the divan, and Istar did not seewhat he did. When he had finished his examination and carried thefaintly moaning child back to its place, he went over to her, and shecould not but start with dismay at the ghastly pallor that had come uponhim. Rising, she laid both hands upon his arm, looking silently,wistfully, into his sad eyes.

  "My lord!" she whispered, fear unlocking her lips.

  Belshazzar, knowing the ineffable tenderness of her motherhood, couldnot tell her what he knew. He said only: "Beloved, we will watchtogether through the night."

  But before that watch began Belshazzar left Istar's rooms for the spaceof half an hour while he sought the apartment of Kidish-Nindar. Therab-mag was frantically purifying his body and repeating mingled prayersand exorcisms, in the hope of warding off that which he so unspeakablydreaded. The king, by means of threats and bribes adroitly alternated,extorted from the man an oath of silence, and then left him grovellingon his knees before an image of Sin, while he, the king of Babylon,returned to the vigil of his child.

  Through the long night they sat together, man and wife, by the bedsideof the child. Together they watched the progress of that terribledisease of which Istar was so happily ignorant. Together they saw theflame of life struggle with the suffocating darkness in which it burned.And they saw the little light grow feebler, and the flame flutter in thewind that came across the dark valley of the beyond. Istar's brainreeled and her heart grew sick. Still, as she sat with her gaze fixed onthe drawn face of the child, unconscious that Belshazzar's eyes werealways upon her, she refused to believe what was too apparent.

  And there came a time in the early dawn when the mother could hold awayno longer. Lifting the baby from its place, she clasped it close to herbreast, carried it across to the soft divan, and lay down with thelittle, fever-flushed body pressed warm over her heart. In this positionher eyes, weary with the long vigil, closed; and while she slept the daybroke. Belshazzar remained close at her side to watch the end alone. Hecould not have told what it was that caused him to lift up his handsthere in the faint light, groping for something to which to cling, forsome higher power that should ease the terrible aching of his heart.Suddenly the world had become a vast waste, and he was in it alone,helpless and unutterably weary. And it was still without the hand of Godto help him that he saw the end come--the death of Istar's happiness andof his own. It was while Istar still quietly slept that the white shadowpassed into space. And the woman awoke to find Belshazzar's hand inhers, and the little body lying stiff and rigid across her bosom.

  When Istar realized what had happened she made no outcry. She satclasping the lifeless form tighter to her own. Tearless, speechless,motionless, she sat alone with that unbearable thing that mortals knowas the death-sorrow. Pitilessly it ate its way into her vitals. Sheforgot everything that had been in her heart before. She was unconsciousof any living presence. She was bereft--bereft--and of her offspring. Itwas in her mind to curse the God that had conceived such suffering andput it upon man. And then there came a touch upon her arm that stilledall her rebellion. Belshazzar's tears fell hot upon her cheek. Without aword she lifted up to him the baby that was also his: and, when he tookit in his arms, she crept again over to the pillows, and as she laid herface among them, the blessed tears came forth, and she could weep.

  How long she lay there no one knew. Belshazzar had carried away thebody--the little body that had been hers; and when he returned to her hebrought a cup of wine. The child was gone. As he lifted her up in hisarms she asked a mute question with her eyes, and he answered hersoftly:

  "The baby, most beloved, is gone. Our eyes may not again behold him.Some day--some day--" he got no further. For an instant Istar had lookedat him in a dull, meaningless sort of way. Then, no longer knowing whatshe did, her nerves suddenly giving way, she threw herself upon him inblind anger, struggling like one gone mad, crying that he had stolen herchild from her, screaming till her voice was gone and her strength gaveway, and she fell into his arms a helpless, lifeless form.

  Later in the day, when, with invincible patience and tenderness, he hadsoothed her into quietude and had gone forth to his inevitable duties,Baba came--Baba, who, since her day in the house of Egibi, had beenIstar's constant companion.

  Baba had come to love Istar's child almost as Istar herself loved it.When, therefore, the little slave first came to the mother, she couldspeak no words of comfort. Her tears flowed faster than Istar's own, andshe could only grieve beside the queen. Yet in some way this human woebrought to Istar's lonely heart its first breath of comfort and of hope.In the evening she began to speak to Baba of many half-forgottenthings--of her own mysterious birth, of her dim remembrances of a greatpreceding existence, of those beings that had sometimes come to her onearth from space. In the last few weeks Istar had become almost utterlyoblivious of her one-time divinity. Natural life and natural love had soblunted her former faculties of perception that the past remained onlyas a misty background to her life. Yet as her mind struggled to piercethe mists that hid from her the glory of bygone days, a longing was bornwithin her heart--a longing ill-defined, yet so strong that she made,perforce, painful efforts to formulate it.

  "I have beheld the glory of the setting sun--the pale light of the newlyrisen moon. The murmur of waters came to me as I slept. I beheld greatlakes and white palaces, and high towers shining in the morning light.The scent of the lotus filled the air, and the rustle of the wind was inthe palm-trees. Tell me, my Baba--tell me that for which I thirst! Tellme the great desire of my heart! Tell me, oh my Baba, where, in the samehour, have I known all these perfect things?"

  Baba, gazing at her with the big, wondering eyes that had never in allher little life shone with the light of complete happiness, understoodthe words of her golden lady. "I will bring the great comfort to thee,"she said. "Wait till I come again." And, rising, she left the palace.

  Through two still hours Istar waited there with her heart-sorrow,trusting in Baba to bring that for which she thirsted. And at last, whenshe had grown weary with waiting, Baba came again, and with her some oneelse--Charmides, with his burnished hair and his pale, gaunt face,carrying his lyre in his hand. With a silent obeisance to Istar, hestood off at a little distance, and, opening his lips, began to sing.

  Then, indeed, came the glory of the setting sun, the pale light of thenewly risen moon, with the whisper of waters and the shining gold ofgreat lakes. And around fair white towers and palaces hung the scent oflotus flowers, and the murmur of the evening wind was in the palm-trees.All things far and beautiful came home in the same hour to Istar'ssenses. And as he sang again, the tears of mingled joy and woe flowedfrom her eyes. Once more, and music, which is divine, opened divinityagain before her vision, and she rose up transfigured, crying:

  "Allaraine! Allaraine! Mine eyes behold thee once again!"

  Then the moment of fire faded, and she was alone with only Charmides andhis careworn, ethereal face, singing on in the fragrant accents of hisSicilian land, till Istar's passion faded gently away, and she smiled alittle, and her eyelids grew heavy with sleep. Presently her flower-likehead drooped forward. The frail, white hands fell from where they hadbeen clasped upon her breast. Baba drew her down upon the divan, andwhen Charmides' voice died at length away, a great silence was in theroom. Baba and the Greek were alone together. Charmides stoodtransfixed, his eyes fastened upon the sleeping figure of her whom hehad once worshipped. He was roused from the look by a touch on his hand.Baba was kneeling at his side, and her lips were pressed to the fingersthat had touched the magic lyre-strings, bringing peace to the soul ofIstar of Babylon.

  * * * * *

  And thereafter ten days passed away, and it was the time of the greatyearly feast of
Tammuz, the beautiful god of spring.