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Updated: June 26, 2025
The King seated himself on a cushioned chair directly in front of the Silver Veil, . . Sah-luma took a place at his right hand, giving Theos a low bench close beside him, while the various distinguished personages who had attended Zephoranim disposed themselves indifferently wherever they could find standing-room, only keeping as near to their monarch as they were able to do in the extreme pressure of so vast a congregation.
For all answer, Sah-luma flung himself desperately at the monarch's feet. "Zephoranim!" he cried again ... "I tell thee she is mine! ... mine, as truly mine as Love can make her! Oh, she is chaster than lily-buds in her sweet body! ... but in her spirit she is wedded wedded to me, Sah-luma, whom thou, O King, hast ever delighted to honor!
Hear me and cease to strive among yourselves, ... resist not thus desperately the King's armed minions, for to them I also speak and say, Lo! the time approaches when a stronger hand than that of the mighty Zephoranim shall take me prisoner and bear me hence where most I long to go! Peace, I command you! ... in the Name of that God whose truth I do proclaim ... Peace!"
Fire! ... Fire! ..." and here he ran abruptly to the foot of the royal dais, his dark garments brushing against Theos as he passed, and springing on the first step, stood boldly within hand-reach of the King, who, taken aback by the suddenness of his action, stared at him with a sort of amazed and angry fascination.. "To arms, Zephoranim! ... To arms! ... take up thy sword and shield.. get thee forth and fight with fire!
His powerful and indignant voice had the effect of partially checking the panic and restoring something like order, the pushing and struggling for an immediate exit ceased, the armed guards in shamed silence began to marshal themselves together in readiness to start on the search for the fugitive, and several pages rushed in with flaring torches, which cast a wondrous fire- glow on the surging throng of eager and timid faces, the brilliant costumes, the flash of jewels, the glimmer of swords and the dark outlines of the fluttering tapestry, all forming together a curious chiaroscuro, from which the massive figure of Zephoranim stood out in bold and striking prominence against the white and silver background of his throne.
There are strange powers at work! ... powers of the undug earth and unfathomed sea! ... hark how they tear at the stately foundations of Al-Kyris! ... Flame! flame! it is already kindled! it shall enwrap thee with more closeness than thy coronation robe, O mighty Sovereign! ... with more gloating fondness than the serpent- twining arms of thy beloved! Listen, Zephoranim, listen!"
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.
He ceased, and again seemed to retire within himself as though he were a Voice entering at will into the carven image of man. Zephoranim frowned angrily, yet answered nothing and a brief pause ensued. Theos grew more and more painfully interested in the scene, there was something in it that to his mind seemed fatefully suggestive and fraught with impending evil.
In the black thirsty eyes there was a look that spoke volumes, a look that betrayed what the heart concealed, and reading that featured emblazonment of hidden guilt, Theos knew beyond all doubt that the rumors concerning the High Priestess and the King were true, . . that the dead Khosrul had spoken rightly, . . that Zephoranim loved Lysia! ... Love? ... it seemed too tame a word for the pent-up fury of passion that visibly and violently consumed the man!
The officer stooped and felt the motionless body. "O great King, live forever! He is dead!" Zephoranim hesitated. Cruelty and clemency struggled for the mastery in the varying expression of his frowning face, but cruelty conquered.
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