"Fool!" she stormed, "is the sister of Oxyartes to be mocked by a brainless dog?"
The shaft went home. The laughter died upon their lips; yet, ere their startled senses woke again, Semiramis swept on:
"What! Know ye not that Babylon is in revolt? That Tyre and Sidon fling aside the yoke? That Syria flies to arms and sends her armies forth to crush King Ninus as a grain of corn? Does Bactria sleep, as sleeps Assyria's lord, when Nineveh hath tumbled to the earth--a blotch of mud upon the plains? Does Dagas know not that the hosts advance, with horsemen countless as the forest leaves, with slingers, axemen, hordes of Hittite charioteers, and a swarm of riders from the desert lands?" She flung back her head and laughed. "O worms of ignorance! O sons of fishes, knowing naught beyond their slimy pool! Go out and guard each road--each mountain pass--lest fugitives slip by and cry disaster to the King!"
She paused for lack of breath, and a buzz of confusion rose among the men-at-arms; then, at their chieftain's questioning glance, Semiramis spoke again:
"Five days must pass ere the vanguard cometh, yet I and my servant hasten on to warn the King of Zariaspa; for when our warriors pour down the mountain sides, then must Oxyartes sally forth and take King Ninus in his rear."
Dagas knit his brows in troubled thought, then raised his eyes and asked:
"What surety have I that thy words are the words of truth--that thy tidings be not a trick to befool mine ears?"
"None," she answered, in majestic pride. "None save my word alone. If thou doubtest, then hold me prisoner." Again she paused, to look upon the youth in scorn. "Yet I warn thee, Dagas, that should a mischief come of it, or I suffer by delay--by every god in heaven, thy flesh shall puff in one great blister from the lash!"
Once more the Bactrian pondered, torn 'twixt duty and a fear of some bold deceit, then he asked, as a final test:
"And how wilt thou reach the city when Ninus encompasseth it about in a deep, unbroken ring? How scale the walls and bear thy message in?"
It was now the Syrian's turn to ponder, for on her wit hung fortune, good and evil, balanced to a hair. To blunder meant captivity, death perchance; to answer rightly was beyond her power; yet she faltered not, and staked her all upon a single cast. She smiled upon Dagas, leaned down, and whispered into his ear: