Part 48 (1/2)
The other, while acknowledging so obvious a truth, could not repress a thrill of exultation in the fair and formidable array of warriors with whom he had heretofore gone out to victory.
At the same moment Semiramis turned to a.s.sarac, whose chariot now stood by her own, and pointed with a radiant smile to those long lines of steel glittering in the morning sun.
”The blade is out,” said she, ”and balances so well in my hand, I can smite when and where I will. Who would care to be a queen, but that the arm which sways a sceptre has such strength to draw a sword? Behold, the very auxiliaries stand fast, as if they too felt they carried on their spears the honour of a.s.syria!”
”Trust not their patience too far,” urged the eunuch. ”Great Queen, they are clamouring to engage even now!”
”Fools,” she returned gaily, ”I mean to sacrifice them soon enough. But I can scarce trust them in the first shock of the a.s.sault, or I would leave our own people to come in and reap the victory.”
”Let not the Great Queen scorn the words of her servant,” replied a.s.sarac, ”humble man of peace though he be. The children of Anak, led by their woman-captain, claim the advance as their right. Behold, they are fierce champions, tall as palms, greedy as beasts of prey, acknowledging no law save the customs of their tribe. How shall these be satisfied when the fight is over, the victory gained, and the spoil divided? Grant them their wish: let them hurl themselves against the enemy. If they loosen his formation, it is well; if they turn back in confusion while he smites them hip and thigh, it is better. a.s.syria can do without them in the day of triumph as in the day of battle.”
The queen scanned him from head to foot.
”Do you think I cannot rein a steed,” she asked, with a scornful laugh, ”because it is strong and wilful, or rule a handful of hors.e.m.e.n because they stand a span higher than their fellows? Go to, a.s.sarac; I thought you knew me better. I have a task in store for these same Anakim, and I purpose leading them myself. They shall help me to take this Comely King captive from the very midst of his host. I tell you I mean to look at his beautiful face before sunset, as close as I am to you!”
”May the queen live for ever!” was his reply, for a.s.sarac's whole attention seemed now engrossed by the strength of Armenia advancing to the attack.
The wedge came on, solid and impenetrable as if it were indeed a living ma.s.s of metal. Thus it crossed the level ground by the river's bed, directing its point steadily for the centre of the a.s.syrian line; and so long as it moved upon an even surface, nothing could be more warlike than the mechanical regularity of its advance--nothing, perhaps, save the discipline of the a.s.syrian archers, whom the queen kept so perfectly in hand, that in spite of a tempting proximity to the Armenians not a man moved in his saddle, turned his rein or bent his bow. But when the huge triangular phalanx reached the channel, now dried up indeed, yet rough with broken banks, sandy ledges, s.h.i.+ngle, and boulders of rock, a s.h.i.+ver seemed to pa.s.s over it like that which ripples the hide of some huge monster in its death-pang, and Aryas drove furiously down in his chariot to rectify the disorder ere it was too late.
In compliance with his bowbearer's entreaties, the attire and harness of the Comely King, though less simple than usual, were such as might be worn by any captain or leader of his host. There was nothing about him to identify his royalty but the handsome form and face. Sarchedon also was armed and dressed in a precisely similar manner, so that at the interval of a spear-length it was impossible to distinguish one from the other. The bowbearer too had divested himself of the quiver that denoted his office, and while he stood upright and brandished a spear in the war-chariot, Aryas covered him with a s.h.i.+eld. Even old Thorgon, riding up to his lord for final orders, rubbed his eyes and pulled his s.h.a.ggy beard in angry confusion at its success, while he admitted the wisdom of this stratagem.
With voice and gesture, Aryas and Sarchedon strove in concert to restore that dense consistency to the ma.s.s which const.i.tuted its strength and safety; but eyes as quick, and skill more practised, were watching their opportunity, so that as the leading Armenian spearman made his first false step, the arm of Semiramis went up, a trumpet sounded, and the hors.e.m.e.n of a.s.syria set themselves in motion by thousands, with bows bent and arrows drawn to the head.
There is a moment, and none knew it better than the Great Queen, on which the tide of battle turns.
”In the toils _now_!” she murmured viciously, ”and that fair head of yours will be at my mercy to-night, as sure as I hold this bow in my hand. a.s.sarac,” she continued, in the calm ringing accents with which it was her wont to issue her commands in battle, ”let them feed that force of archers thousands by thousands, as they want them, from the columns on their flanks. When the Armenian host arrives at yonder white stone, bring up the reserve of spearmen, and I will attack with the whole line.”
Ere this landmark could be reached, she was well aware that the advancing phalanx, stumbling at every step, galled on all sides by mounted bowmen, who, circling swiftly round, wrapped it in a deadly storm of arrows, must become so loosened and disorganised as with one well-supported charge to be broken up and cut to pieces in detail.
Already darting an upward glance at the towers of Ardesh, she was doubting whether to occupy it with a strong a.s.syrian garrison or to burn its palace, and level its defences to the ground. For a s.p.a.ce all went as she desired. Wheeling in clouds, succeeded and relieved by squadron after squadron, each fresher, fiercer, more daring than the last, it seemed to Aryas that the hors.e.m.e.n of a.s.syria were inexhaustible and intangible as the locusts of their own fertile land. With each discharge of arrows, his phalanx hesitated, tottered, and opened out. It was no longer a solid wedge, but an irregular ma.s.s, melting and crumbling like a snow-wreath in the southern breeze. There was not a moment to lose, and the Comely King, whose habits of wood-craft had at least gifted him with that prompt.i.tude of decision which is so necessary in war, saw the crisis and prepared to meet it.
”Sarchedon,” he exclaimed, ”leap on my horse, the bay standing there behind the chariot! Ride down to Thorgon like the wind. Bid him bring up his long swords steadily, but without delay. At the first step taken by the enemy's spearmen, he must charge and drive them back amongst their chariots. It is the last chance left. Away! Two Armenian kings are fighting side by side this morning; Sarchedon, if at set of sun there is but one left, my faithful friend and servant, fare thee well!”
Touching his lord's hand reverently with his lips, the bowbearer flung himself into the saddle, and galloped off at speed; while Aryas, s.n.a.t.c.hing reins and whip from his charioteer, shaking the former and plying the latter to some purpose, flew towards that white stone which the keen eye of Semiramis had already marked as the turning-point of conflict.
When they parted, scarce a bowshot intervened between the king's chariot and the handful of Anakim who were drawn up in the position they had clamoured to occupy, waiting with fiery impatience an order to begin.
Their queen sat motionless at their head, her face concealed as usual, her eyes intently scanning those hostile ranks in search of the man she loved.
Suddenly she dropped the rein and clasped her hands upon her heart.
Surely that was his figure yonder, riding, as he alone could ride, along the river bank! A dead archer lay in his path, and the bay horse, swerving wildly aside, brought his rider round with a swing that showed his front to the enemy.
”Sarchedon, Sarchedon!” she cried, in a stifled voice, then stretched her arms out piteously, and, gasping for breath, flung the veil back from her face.
It was the signal they had expected since daybreak, the gesture by which they were taught to believe their enemies would be consumed like thorns crackling in a fire. The wild blood of the desert would take no denial now; and with a shout that rang round the towers of Ardesh, reins were loosed, spears lowered, while, sweeping their bewildered leader onward in their centre, the children of Anak carried all before them in a desperate and irresistible charge.
The brow of Semiramis turned black for very anger, while the beautiful features were distorted with a spasm of rage and scorn.
”The fools!” she hissed between her teeth. ”If but one comes out of the press alive, I will impale him in the centre of the camp! And for their leader--if she be wise, she will die on those Armenian spears, rather than answer this mad frolic in the face of the Great Queen!”