The Eye of Istar: A Romance of the Land of No Return

“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.

Chapter Forty One

The Temple of Love

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.

Chapter Forty Two

Crooked Paths

Full of increasing anxiety were the days following my escape from Ea. At dawn, while high in the shadowy Mountains of the Mist, I heard the alarm beaten in the distant city below, and could just distinguish, through the cloud of vapour, troops of horsemen leaving the brazen gates to scour the country in search of me. Istar had, no doubt, recovered, and, perhaps, had declared that I had made an attempt upon her life. A determined effort would, I knew, be made to secure me; therefore, having found the path I recognised as having before traversed, I pushed onward, day by day, until I reached the ruins of the great temple which had held me in wonderment when first I had entered that mysterious realm; then, striking due north, through forest and fertile, park-like country, I came to a river which I remembered was not far-distant from the small, half-concealed hole whence I had emerged. Proceeding along its sedgy bank at early morning, I came round a sharp bend, espying, to my amazement, a cluster of tents before me, and held back only just in time to escape detection. Already my pursuers were ahead of me! Nevertheless, taking a circuitous route, and sleeping in a tree that night, my eyes, after long and diligent search, were gladdened by the sight of the spot I sought.

As I stood before it, I reflected that, although I had defeated the evil design of Istar, I was still in a position equally as perilous as before, because of the raging, foaming torrent, which, descending from the Lake of the Accursed through its funnel-like aperture, formed a natural and insurmountable barrier to my freedom. Ea was indeed the Land of the No Return.

I had eaten my frugal morning meal, and was about to leisurely enter the long, natural chamber beneath the rock, and there decide upon some plan of action, when suddenly the bright gleam of arms through the greenery attracted my attention, and a moment later I found myself confronted by two of Istar’s soldiers, who had evidently been watching me.

They called upon me to surrender, at the same time shouting to their comrades; but, without an instant’s hesitation, I evaded their grasp and scrambling up into the hole, plunged into the dark fissure and sped quickly along over rocks and stones, heedless of where I went. Hurrying footsteps sounded behind me, the voices of my eager pursuers echoing loudly through the place, causing the flock of bats and birds nesting there to fly out into the sunlight in a dense, screaming crowd, while I, dashing onward, fled like a rat before a ferret.

The chase in the pitch darkness was long, wearying and desperate. It was a race for life. By their voices I could distinguish that the soldiers were gradually gaining upon me; yet, struggling on, now and then falling and cutting my knees as I scrambled over the sharp rocks, being always compelled to keep my hands stretched forth lest I should stun myself against the rough sides of the natural passage. Still, I was determined to hold out until the last, although not a single ray of hope glimmered through the dispiriting gloom. Istar had told me that, as bearer of the Mark of the Asps, I was doomed. Although I struggled forward I had been compelled to abandon all hope of returning again to Azala.

Close behind me were my pursuers, yelling like fiends. The place sent back weird, unearthly echoes from its uneven, vaulted roof, yet, in the utter darkness, they could not see me, but only pressed forward, eager to run me to earth and ascertain the extent of the strange, unknown grotto.

Suddenly I held my breath, feeling myself treading for an instant upon air, and uttering a loud shriek when I realised the truth. I had forgotten the great chasm into which I had so nearly fallen when last I had passed there, and had now plunged headlong into it! Down, down, I felt myself falling, until the fearful velocity with which I descended rendered me giddy. Those moments in mid-air seemed an hour, until, after dropping a long distance, I felt a sudden blow on the back that drove the breath from my body and held me paralysed. I knew then that I was lost.

When, a few minutes later, I again became conscious, I heard excited voices far above uttering words of caution. My shriek had evidently been noticed by my pursuers, who, surmising that some evil had befallen me, halted, and feeling their way carefully forward, had discovered the wide chasm which I had believed unfathomable. I was lying in soft dust which, preventing any of my bones being broken, had also deadened the sound when, long ago, I had cast stones into the pit to ascertain its depth. Slowly I struggled to my feet, and finding myself uninjured, began groping about in the darkness to ascertain the accurate dimensions of the abyss. Half choked by the fine dust, I stumbled about, with outstretched hands, but could discover neither sides nor roof, when suddenly a soldier’s robe, which had been saturated in some oil from a lantern and was flaming, tumbled down upon the spot where I had fallen. My pursuers had done this to ascertain the depth of the chasm.

The welcome light revealed to me that, instead of being in an abyss, I had been precipitated into a lower and larger cavern, the roof of which was hung with huge stalactites, glittering with prismatic fire, and of dimensions so enormous that the fitful glare did not reveal its opposite extremity.