<p><SPAN name="link2H_4_0019" id="link2H_4_0019"></SPAN></p>
<br/>
<h2> 18. STORM OF THE SACRED MOUNTAIN </h2>
<p>It was Nais herself who sent me to attend to my sterner duties. The din of
the attack came to us in the house where I was tending her, and she asked
its meaning. As pithily as might be, for she was in no condition for
tedious listening, I gave her the history of her nine years’ sleep.</p>
<p>The colour flushed more to her face. “My lord is the properest man in all
the world to be King,” she whispered.</p>
<p>“I refused to touch the trade till they had given me the Queen I desired,
safe and alive, here upon the Mountain.”</p>
<p>“How we poor women are made the chattels of you men! But, for myself, I
seem to like the traffic well enough. You should not have let me stand in
the way of Atlantis’ good, Deucalion. Still, it is very sweet to know you
were weak there for once, and that I was the cause of your weakness. What
is that bath over yonder? Ah! I remember; my wits seem none of the
clearest just now.”</p>
<p>“You have made the beginning. Your strength will return to you by quick
degrees. But it will not bear hurrying. You must have a patience.”</p>
<p>“Your ear, sir, for one moment, and then I will rest in peace. My poor
looks, are they all gone? You seem to have no mirror here. I had visions
that I should wake up wrinkled and old.”</p>
<p>“You are as you were, dear, that first night I saw you—the most
beautiful woman in all the world.”</p>
<p>“I am pleased you like me,” she said, and took the cup of broth I offered
her. “My hair seems to have grown; but it needs combing sadly. I had a
fancy, dear, once, that you liked ruddy hair best, and not a plain brown.”
She closed her eyes then, lying back amongst the cushions where I had
placed her, and dropped off into healthy sleep, with the smiles still
playing upon her lips. I put the coverlet over her, and kissed her
lightly, holding back my beard lest it should sweep her cheek. And then I
went out of the chamber.</p>
<p>That beard had grown vastly disagreeable to me these last hours, and then
I went into a room in the house, and found instruments, and shaved it down
to the bare chin. A change of robe also I found there and took it instead
of my squalid rags. If a man is in truth a king, he owes these things to
the dignity of his office.</p>
<p>But, if the din of the fighting was any guide, mine was a narrowing
kingdom. Every hour it seemed to grow fiercer and more near, and it was
clear that some of the gates in the passage up the cleft in the cliff,
impregnable though all men had thought them, had yielded to the vehemence
of Phorenice’s attack. And, indeed, it was scarcely to be marvelled at.
With all her genius spurred on to fury by the blow that had been struck at
her by wrecking so fair a part of the city, the Empress would be no light
adversary even for a strong place to resist, and the Sacred Mountain was
no longer strong.</p>
<p>Defences of stone, cunningly planned and mightily built, it still
possessed, but these will not fight alone. They need men to line them,
and, moreover, abundance of men. For always in a storm of this kind, some
desperate fellows will spit at death and get to hand grips, or slingers
and archers slip in their shot, or the throwing-fire gets home, or (as
here) some newfangled machine like Phorenice’s fire-tubes, make one in a
thousand of their wavering darts find the life; and so, though the general
attacking loses his hundreds, the defenders also are not without their
dead.</p>
<p>The slaughter, as it turned out, had been prodigious. As fast as the
stormers came up, the Priests who held the lowest gate remaining to us
rained down great rocks upon them till the narrow alley of the stair was
paved with their writhing dead. But Phorenice stood on a spur of the rock
below them urging on the charges, and with an insane valour company after
company marched up to hurl themselves hopelessly against the defences.
They had no machines to batter the massive gates, and their attack was as
pathetically useless as that of a child who hammers against a wall with an
orange; and meanwhile the terrible stones from above mowed them down
remorselessly.</p>
<p>Company after company of the troops marched into this terrible death-trap,
and not a man of all of them ever came back. Nor was it Phorenice’s policy
that they should do so. In her lust for this final conquest, she was
minded to pour out troops till she had filled up the passes with the
slain, so that at last she might march on to a level fight over the bridge
of their poor bodies. It was no part of Phorenice’s mood ever to count the
cost. She set down the object which was to be gained, and it was her
policy that the people of Atlantis were there to gain it for her.</p>
<p>Two gates then had she carried in this dreadful fashion, slaughtering
those Priests that stood behind, them who had not been already shot down.
And here I came down from above to take my share in the fight. There was
no trumpet to announce my coming, no herald to proclaim my quality, but
the Priests as a sheer custom picked up “Deucalion!” as a battle-cry; and
some shouted that, with a King to lead, there would be no further ground
lost.</p>
<p>It was clear that the name carried to the other side and bore weight with
it. A company of poor, doomed wretches who were hurrying up stopped in
their charge. The word “Deucalion!” was bandied round and handed back down
the line. I thought with some grim satisfaction, that here was evidence I
was not completely forgotten in the land.</p>
<p>There came shouts to them from behind to carry on their advance; but they
did not budge; and presently a glittering officer panted up, and commenced
to strike right and left amongst them with his sword. From where I stood
on the high rampart above the gate, I could see him plainly, and
recognised him at once.</p>
<p>“It matters not what they use for their battle-cry,” he was shouting. “You
have the orders of your divine Empress, and that is enough. You should be
proud to die for her wish, you cowards. And if you do not obey, you will
die afterwards under the instruments of the tormentors, very painfully. As
for Deucalion, he is dead any time these nine years.”</p>
<p>“There it seems you lie, my Lord Tatho,” I shouted down to him.</p>
<p>He started, and looked up at me.</p>
<p>“So you are there in real truth, then? Well, old comrade, I am sorry. But
it is too late to make a composition now. You are on the side of these
mangy Priests, and the Empress has made an edict that they are to be
rooted out, and I am her most obedient servant.”</p>
<p>“You used to be skilful of fence,” I said, and indeed there was little
enough to choose between us. “If it please you to stop this pitiful
killing, make yourself the champion of your side, and I will stand for
mine, and we will fight out this quarrel in some fair place, and bind our
parties to abide by the result.”</p>
<p>“It would be a grand fight between us two, old friend, and it goes hard
with me to balk you of it. But I cannot pleasure you. I am general here
under Phorenice, and she has given me the strongest orders not to peril
myself. And besides, though you are a great man, Deucalion, you are not
chief. You are not even one of the Three.”</p>
<p>“I am King.”</p>
<p>Tatho laughed. “Few but yourself would say so, my lord.”</p>
<p>“Few truly, but what there are, they are powerful. I was given the name
for the first time yesterday, and as a first blow in the campaign there
was some mischief done in the city. I was there myself, and saw how you
took it.”</p>
<p>“You were in Atlantis!”</p>
<p>“I went for Nais. She is on the mountain now, and to-morrow will be my
Queen. Tatho, as a priest to a priest, let me solemnly bring to your
memory the infinite power you bite against on this Sacred Mountain. Your
teaching has warned you of the weapons that are stored in the Ark of the
Mysteries. If you persist in this attack, at the best you can merely lose;
at the worst you can bring about a wreck over which even the High Gods
will shudder as They order it.”</p>
<p>“You cannot scare us back now by words,” said Tatho doggedly. “And as for
magic, it will be met by magic. Phorenice has found by her own cleverness
as many powers as were ever stored up in the Ark of the Mysteries.”</p>
<p>“Yet she looked on helplessly enough last night, when her royal pyramid
was trundled into a rubbish heap. Zaemon had prophesied that this should
be so, and for a witness, why I myself stood closer to her than we two
stand now, and saw her.”</p>
<p>“I will own you took her by surprise somewhat there. I do not understand
these matters myself; I was never more than one of the Seven in the old
days; and now, quite rightly, Phorenice keeps the knowledge of her magic
to herself: but it seems time is needed when one magic is to be met by
another.”</p>
<p>“Well,” I said, “I know little about the business either. I leave these
matters now to those who are higher above me in the priesthood. Indeed,
having a liking for Nais, it seems I am debarred from ever being given
understanding about the highest of the higher Mysteries. So I content
myself with being a soldier, and when the appointed day comes, I shall
fall and kiss my mother the Earth for the last time. You, so I am told,
have ambition for longer life.”</p>
<p>He nodded. “Phorenice has found the Great Secret, and I am to be the first
that will share it with her. We shall be as Gods upon the earth, seeing
that Death will be powerless to touch us. And the twin sons she has borne
me, will be made immortal also.”</p>
<p>“Phorenice is headstrong. No, my lord, there is no need to shake your head
and try to deny it. I have had some acquaintance with her. But the order
has been made, and her immortality will be snatched from her very rudely.
Now, mark solemnly my words. I, Deucalion, have been appointed King of
Atlantis by the High Council of the Priests who are the mouthpiece of the
most High Gods, and if I do not have my reign, then there will be no
Atlantis left to carry either King or Empress. You know me, Tatho, for a
man that never lies.”</p>
<p>He nodded.</p>
<p>“Then save yourself before it is too late. You shall have again your
vice-royalty in Yucatan.”</p>
<p>“But, man, there is no Yucatan. A great horde of little hairy creatures,
that were something less than human and something more than beasts, swept
down upon our cities and ate them out. Oh, you may sneer if you choose!
Others sneered when I came home, till the Empress stopped them. But you
know what a train of driver ants is, that you meet with in the forests?
You may light fires across their path, and they will march into them in
their blind bravery, and put them out with their bodies, and those that
are left will march on in an unbroken column, and devour all that stands
in their path. I tell you, my lord, those little hairy creatures were like
the ants—aye, for numbers, and wooden bravery, as well as for
appetite. As a result to-day, there is no Yucatan.”</p>
<p>“You shall have Egypt, then.”</p>
<p>He burst at me hotly. “I would not take seven Egypts and ten Yucatans. My
lord, you think more poorly of me than is kind, when you ask me to become
a traitor. In your place would you throw your Nais away, if the doing it
would save you from a danger?”</p>
<p>“That is different.”</p>
<p>“In no degree. You have a kindness for her. I have all that and more for
Phorenice, who is, besides, my wife and the mother of my children. If I
have qualms—and I freely confess I know you are desperate men up
there, and have dreadful powers at your command—my shiverings are
for them and not for myself. But I think, my lord, this parley is leading
to nothing, and though these common soldiers here will understand little
enough of our talk, they may be picking up a word here and there, and I do
not wish them to go on to their death (as you will see them do shortly)
and carry evil reports about me to whatever Gods they chance to come
before.”</p>
<p>He saluted me with his sword and drew back, and once more the missiles
began to fly, and the doomed wretches, who had been halting beside the
steep rock walls of the pass began once more to press hopelessly forward.
They had scaling-ladders certainly, but they had no chance of getting
these planted. They could do naught but fill the narrow way with their
bodies, and to that end they had been sent, and to that end they humbly
died. Our Priests with crow and lever wrenched from their lodging-places
the great rocks which had been made ready, and sent them crashing down, so
that once more screams filled the pass, and the horrid butchery was
renewed.</p>
<p>But ever and again, some arrow or some sling-stone, or some fire-tube’s
dart would find its way up from below and through the defences, and there
we would be with a man the less to carry on the fight. It was well enough
for Phorenice to be lavish with her troops; indeed, if she wished for
success, there were no two ways for it; and when those she had levied were
killed, she could readily press others into the service, seeing that she
had the whole broad face of the country under her rule. But with us it was
different. A man down on our side was a man whose arm would bitterly be
missed, and one which could in no possible way be replaced.</p>
<p>I made calculation of the chances, and saw clearly that, if we continued
the fight on the present plan, they would storm the gates one after
another as they came to them, and that by the time the uppermost gate was
reached, there would be no Priest alive to defend it. And so, not
disdaining to fashion myself on Phorenice’s newer plan, which held that a
general should at times in preference plot coldly from a place of some
safety, and not lead the thick of the fighting, I left those who stood to
the gate with some rough soldier’s words of cheer, and withdrew again up
the narrow stair of the pass.</p>
<p>This one approach to the Sacred Mountain was, as I have said before,
vastly more difficult and dangerous in the olden days when it stood as a
mere bare cleft as the High Gods made it. But a chasm had been bridged
here, a shelf cut through the solid rock there, and in many places the
roadway was built up on piers from distant crags below so as to make all
uniform and easy. It came to my mind now, that if I could destroy this
path, we might gain a breathing space for further effort.</p>
<p>The idea seemed good, or at least no other occurred to me which would in
any way relieve our desperate situation, and I looked around me for means
to put it into execution. Up and down, from the mountain to the plains
below, I had traversed that narrow stair of a pass some thousands of
times, and so in a manner of speaking knew every stone, and every turn,
and every cut of it by heart. But I had never looked upon it with an eye
to shaving off all roadway to the Sacred Mountain, and so now, even in
this moment of dreadful stress, I had to traverse it no less than three
times afresh before I could decide upon the best site for demolition.</p>
<p>But once the point was fixed, there was little delay in getting the scheme
in movement. Already I had sent men to the storehouses amongst the
Priests’ dwellings to fetch me rams, and crows, and acids, and hammers,
and such other material as was needed, and these stood handy behind one of
the upper gates. I put on every pair of hands that could be spared to the
work, no matter what was their age and feebleness; yes, if Nais could have
walked so far I would have pressed her for the labour; and presently
carved balustrade, and wayside statue, together with the lettered
wall-stones and the foot-worn cobbles, roared down into the gulf below,
and added their din to the shrieks and yells and crashes of the fighting.
Gods! But it was a hateful task, smashing down that splendid handiwork of
the men of the past. But it was better that it should crash down to ruin
in the abyss below, than that Phorenice should profane it with her impious
sandals.</p>
<p>At first I had feared that it would be needful to sacrifice the knot of
brave men who were so valiantly defending the gate then being attacked. It
is disgusting to be forced into a measure of this kind, but in hard
warfare it is often needful to the carrying out of his schemes for a
general to leave a part of his troops to fight to a finish, and without
hope of rescue, as valiantly as they may; and all he can do for their
reward is to recommend them earnestly to the care of the Gods. But when
the work of destroying the pathway was nearly completed, I saw a chance of
retrieving them.</p>
<p>We had not been content merely with breaking arches, and throwing down the
piers. We had got our rams and levers under the living rock itself on
which all the whole fabric stood; and fire stood ready to heat the rams
for their work; and when the word was given, the whole could be sent
crashing down the face of the cliffs beyond chance of repair.</p>
<p>All was, I say, finally prepared in this fashion, and then I gave the word
to hold. A narrow ledge still remained undestroyed, and offered footway,
and over this I crossed. The cut we had made was immediately below the
uppermost gate of all, and below it there were three more massive gates
still unviolated, besides the one then being so vehemently attacked.
Already, the garrisons had been retired from these, and I passed through
them all in turn, unchallenged and unchecked, and came to that busy
rampart where the twelve Priests left alive worked, stripped to the waist,
at heaving down the murderous rocks.</p>
<p>For awhile I busied myself at their side, stopping an occasional fire-tube
dart or arrow on my shield and passing them the tidings. The attack was
growing fiercer every minute now. The enemy had packed the pass below
well-nigh full of their dead, and our battering stones had less distance
to fall and so could do less execution. They pressed forward more eagerly
than ever with their scaling ladders, and it was plain that soon they
would inevitably put the place to the storm. Even during the short time I
was there, their sling-stones and missiles took life from three more of
the twelve who stood with me on the defence.</p>
<p>So I gave the word for one more furious avalanche of rock to be pelted
down, and whilst the few living were crawling out from those killed by the
discharge, and whilst the next band of reinforcements came scrambling up
over the bodies, I sent my nine remaining men away at a run up the steep
stairway of the path, and then followed them myself. Each of the gates in
turn we passed, shutting them after us, and breaking the bars and levers
with which they were moved, and not till we were through the last did the
roar of shouts from below tell that the besiegers had found the gate they
bit against was deserted.</p>
<p>One by one we balanced our way across the narrow ledge which was left
where the path had been destroyed, and one poor Priest that carried a
wound grew giddy, and lost his balance here, and toppled down to his death
in the abyss below before a hand could be stretched out to steady him. And
then, when we were all over, heat was put to the rams, and they expanded
with their resistless force, and tore the remaining ledges from their hold
in the rock. I think a pang went through us all then when we saw for
ourselves the last connecting link cut away from between the poor
remaining handful of our Sacred Clan on the Mountain, and the rest of our
great nation, who had grown so bitterly estranged to us, below.</p>
<p>But here at any rate was a break in the fighting. There were no further
preparations we could make for our defence, and high though I knew
Phorenice’s genius to be, I did not see how she could very well do other
than accept the check and retire. So I set a guard on the ramparts of the
uppermost gate to watch all possible movements, and gave the word to the
others to go and find the rest which so much they needed.</p>
<p>For myself, dutifully I tried to find Zaemon first, going on the errand my
proper self, for there was little enough of kingly state observed on the
Sacred Mountain, although the name and title had been given me. But Zaemon
was not to be come at. He was engaged inside the Ark of the Mysteries with
another of the Three, and being myself only one of the Seven, I had not
rank enough in the priesthood to break in upon their workings. And so I
was free to turn where my likings would have led me first, and that was to
the house which sheltered Nais.</p>
<p>She waked as I came in over the threshold, and her eyes filled with a
welcome for me. I went across and knelt where she lay, putting my face on
the pillow beside her. She was full of tender talk and sweet endearments.
Gods! What an infinity of delight I had missed by not knowing my Nais
earlier! But she had a will of her own through it all, and some quaint
conceits which made her all the more adorable. She rallied me on the new
cleanness of my chin, and on the robe which I had taken as a covering. She
professed a pretty awe for my kingship, and vowed that had she known of my
coming dignities she would never have dared to discover a love for me. But
about my marriage with Phorenice she spoke with less lightness. She put
out her thin white hand, and drew my face to her lips.</p>
<p>“It is weak of me to have a jealousy,” she murmured, “knowing how
completely my lord is mine alone; but I cannot help it. You have said you
were her husband for awhile. It gives me a pang to think that I shall not
be the first to lie in your arms, Deucalion.”</p>
<p>“Then you may gaily throw your pang away,” I whispered back. “I was
husband to Phorenice in mere word for how long I do not precisely know.
But in anything beyond, I was never her husband at all. She married me by
a form she prescribed herself, ignoring all the old rites and ceremonies,
and whether it would hold as legal or not, we need not trouble to inquire.
She herself has most nicely and completely annulled that marriage as I
have told you. Tatho is her husband now, and father to her children, and
he seems to have a fondness for her which does him credit.”</p>
<p>We said other things too in that chamber, those small repetitions of
endearments which are so precious to lovers, and so beyond the
comprehension of other folk, but they are not to be set down on these
sheets. They are a mere private matter which can have no concern to any
one beyond our two selves, and more weighty subjects are piling themselves
up in deep index for the historian.</p>
<p>Phorenice, it seemed, had more rage against the Priests’ Clan on the
Mountain and more bright genius to help her to a vengeance than I had
credited. Her troops stormed easily the gates we had left to them, and
swarmed up till they stood where the pathway was broken down. In the
fierceness of their rush, the foremost were thrust over the brink by those
pressing up behind, before the advance could be halted, and these went
screaming to a horrid death in the great gulf below. But it was no
position here that a lavish spending of men could take, and presently all
were drawn off, save for some half-score who stood as outpost sentries,
and dodged out of arrow-shot behind angles of the rock.</p>
<p>It seems, too, that the Empress herself reconnoitered the place, using due
caution and quickness, and so got for herself a full plan of its
requirements without being obliged to trust the measuring of another eye.
With extraordinary nimbleness she must have planned an engine such as was
necessary to suit her purposes, and given orders for its making; for even
with the vast force and resources at her disposal, the speed with which it
was built was prodigious.</p>
<p>There was very little noise made to tell of what was afoot. All the
woodwork and metalwork was cut, and tongued, and forged, and fitted first
by skilled craftsmen below, in the plain at the foot of the cleft; and
when each ponderous balk and each crosspiece, and each plank was dragged
up the steep pass through the conquered gates, it was ready instantly for
fitting into its appointed place in the completed machine.</p>
<p>The cleft was straight where they set about their building, and there was
no curve or spur of the cliff to hide their handiwork from those of the
Priests who watched from the ramparts above our one remaining gate. But
Phorenice had a coyness lest her engine should be seen before it was
completed, and so to screen it she had a vast fire built at the uppermost
point where the causeway was broken off, and fed diligently with wet sedge
and green wood, so that a great smoke poured out, rising like a curtain
that shut out all view. And so though the Priests on the rampart above the
gate picked off now and again some of those who tended the fire, they
could do the besiegers no further injury, and remained up to the last
quite in ignorance of their tactics.</p>
<p>The passage up the cleft was in shadow during the night hours, for, though
all the crest of the Sacred Mountain was always lit brightly by the
eternal fires which made its defence on the farther side, their glow threw
no gleam down that flank where the cliff ran sheer to the plains beneath.
And so it was under cover of the darkness that Phorenice brought up her
engine into position for attack.</p>
<p>Planking had been laid down for its wheels, and the wheels themselves well
greased, and it may be that she hoped to march in upon us whilst all
slept. But there was a certain creaking and groaning of timbers, and
laboured panting of men, which gave advertisement that something was being
attempted, and the alarm was spread quietly in the hope that if a surprise
had been planned, the real surprise might be turned the other way.</p>
<p>A messenger came to me running, where I sat in the house at the side of my
love, and she, like the soldier’s wife she was made to be, kissed me and
bade me go quickly and care for my honour, and bring back my wounds for
her to mend.</p>
<p>On the rampart above the gate all was silence, save for the faint rustle
of armed men, and out of the black darkness ahead, and from the other side
of the broken causeway, came the sounds of which the messenger bad warned
me.</p>
<p>The captain of the gate came to me and whispered: “We have made no light
till the King came, not knowing the King’s will in the matter. Is it
wished I send some of the throwing-fire down yonder, on the chance that it
does some harm, and at the same time lights up the place? Or is it willed
that we wait for their surprise?”</p>
<p>“Send the fire,” I said, “or we may find that Phorenice’s brain has been
one too many for us.”</p>
<p>The captain of the gate took one of the balls in his hand, lit the fuse,
and hurled it. The horrid thing burst amongst a mass of men who were
labouring with a huge engine, sputtering them with its deadly fire, and
lighting their garments. The plan of the engine showed itself plainly.
They had built them a vast great tower, resting on wheels at its base, so
that it might by pushed forward from behind, and slanting at its foot to
allow for the steepness of the path and leave it always upright.</p>
<p>It was storeyed inside, with ladders joining each floor, and through slits
in the side which faced us bowmen could cover an attack. From its top a
great bridge reared high above it, being carried vertically till the tower
was brought near enough for its use. The bridge was hinged at the third
storey of the tower, and fastened with ropes to its extreme top; but, once
the ropes were cut, the bridge would fall, and light upon whatever came
within its swing, and be held there by the spikes with which it was
studded beneath.</p>
<p>I saw, and inwardly felt myself conquered. The cleverness of Phorenice had
been too strong for my defence. No war-engine of which we had command
could overset the tower. The whole of its massive timbers were hung with
the wet new-stripped skins of beasts, so that even the throwing-fire could
not destroy it. What puny means we had to impede those who pushed it
forward would have little effect. Presently it would come to the place
appointed, and the ropes would be cut, and the bridge would thunder down
on the rampart above our last gate, and the stormers would pour out to
their final success.</p>
<p>Well, life had loomed very pleasant for me these few days with a warm and
loving Nais once more in touch of my arms, but the High Gods in Their
infinite wisdom knew best always, and I was no rebel to stay stiff-necked
against their decision. But it is ever a soldier’s privilege, come what
may, to warm over a fight, and the most exquisitely fierce joy of all is
that final fight of a man who knows that he must die, and who lusts only
to make his bed of slain high enough to carry a due memory of his powers
with those who afterwards come to gaze upon it. I gripped my axe, and the
muscles of my arms stood out in knots at the thought of it. Would Tatho
come to give me sport? I feared not. They would send only the common
soldiers first to the storm, and I must be content to do my killing on
those.</p>
<p>And Nais, what of her? I had a quiet mind there. When any spoilers came to
the house where she lay, she would know that Deucalion had been taken up
to the Gods, and she would not be long in following him. She had her
dagger. No, I had no fears of being parted long from Nais now.</p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />