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

“I have,” I answered, placing my hand beneath my silken robe, and drawing therefrom the small bag of soft kid-skin I had worn for years suspended, with other talismans, about my neck.

“Open it, and let us gaze upon it.”

I obeyed, and drew from the well-worn charm-case a small, cylindrical seal of chalcedony. It was of ancient design, like those discovered by Layard, the Englishman, in the mounds at Nimroud, about the length of the little finger, semi-transparent and blue almost as the morning sky, drilled from end to end with a hole, to allow its suspension from the neck.

“Yea,” said the Sultan, taking it from my hand, and examining it with greatest care. “Thou hast truly preserved intact the relic which hath been in our family through countless generations. Now will I reveal unto thee its strange secret.”

“What secret doth it contain?” I asked, glancing at it eagerly.

“Upon it are words,” he answered, “but so minute is the inscription that only by placing it in the sun’s rays, and watching the shadows, can the inequalities of its surface be detected. Come hither.”

He rose, and we followed him across the great, empty hall to where the sunlight streamed full through an aperture in the high, gilded roof. Then, placing the cylinder upon a small, golden stool, inlaid with amethysts, that Istar had used as a table, he told me to examine it and say what words were thereon inscribed. At first I could detect nothing, but presently, by placing it at a certain angle, I could detect that its surface was entirely covered by an inscription in cuneiform character, so minute that none would dream of its existence. Only by allowing the sun’s rays to fall at a certain angle across the blue stone could the tiny rows of arrowheads be deciphered, but after a long examination, with the Sultan and Azala eagerly gazing over my shoulder, I was at length enabled to gain the knowledge it imparted.

The first portion of the ancient inscription was a brief supplication, in the picturesque language of Assyria, to Istar, Goddess of Love, followed by a statement that the stone itself was the talisman of Semiramis, founder of Babylon, who had decreed that her son should bear the royal mark upon his breast in such a form as should be indelible, and that the first-born of the royal line should be branded in the same manner by an iron heated until it glowed white. There was a tiny sketch of the symbol, together with full directions as to the manner in which the flesh must be seared, and the whole concluded with an exhortation to Merodach to preserve the bearer of the talisman, and a fervent prayer to Baal, head-father and creator of the universe. At the end was the signature of some scribe, and appended the seal of Semiramis herself.

This strange historic talisman had, I recollected, been carried by my father in all his travels, and on his deathbed he had bequeathed it to me, with strict injunctions never to part with it, as it secured its wearer immunity from disease or violent death. Around my neck I had carried it through all the fights against the English in the Soudan, and during all the long and toilsome journeys which I have related. Now it had explained to me a secret so strange that, without its unimpeachable evidence, I could never have credited the truth.

Again and again I re-read the curious inscription, graven by a hand that must have crumbled into dust more than four thousand years ago; then, witnessing Azala’s great interest in it, I tenderly placed my hand around her jewel-begirt waist and kissed her.

The Sultan smiled benignly, and telling me to mount the steps, and seat myself upon the crystal throne that was my birthright, he gave orders for the curtains to be drawn aside so that those assembled might witness the high position to which I had been exalted.

The Sultan, again mounting the steps of polished silver, addressed the brilliantly attired crowd, explaining briefly that I was the direct descendant of the founder of that kingdom; that upon my breast I bore the mystic Mark of the Asps; and that, in my hand, I held the long-lost talisman of Semiramis, which ages ago had been carried away to the outer world by the adventurous son of Istar who made his escape and never returned. It was, he declared, but meet that I should occupy the crystal throne whereon had lounged the languid, luxurious queens through so many centuries, a statement which won the loud and long-continued plaudits of the multitude.

Chapter Forty Five

Conclusion

That night I wandered through the ancient, gigantic palace, hand-in-hand with my well-beloved, pointing out its many marvels, explaining the curious inscriptions upon its colossal foundation-stones, and, taking her to the summit of the Temple of the Seven Lights, showed her the giant city by night. Happy were we in each other’s love; yet happier still when, seven days later, amid feasting and merry-making, that was continued throughout a whole moon, we were made man and wife. Our rule has, I believe, found favour with the people. We fear not invasion nor rebellion, because our impregnable country is still the Land of the No Return, at any moment when we choose to block the one single gate by which it may be entered.

As Prince of Ea I have complete control of its ancient treasures, and at Azala’s instigation have sent many wall-sculptures, and other relics of interest, to various national museums in the European capitals. To Paris I sent a colossal block of black stone, strangely sculptured, representing the great feast held by Semiramis after she had built the walls of Ea, which she declared unbreakable. To Vienna we dispatched the stone, triangular altar of the Fire-god, Gibil, which stood at the entrance of the House of Lustre. To Berlin went a conical stone, bearing a beautiful hymn to Baal in well-preserved cuneiform character; and to the British Museum, in London, an institution to which my father had sent many relics he had collected, I presented a collection of ancient gems, among them being the little chalcedony cylinder, in order that all should be enabled to inspect the strange heirloom, the possession of which led to the discovery of a long-forgotten civilisation.

The visitor to England’s national collection of antiquities may discover it in the Assyrian Room, reposing upon its tiny cushion of purple velvet, fashioned from the papakha of the Goddess of Love, the couch of Istar, a mute relic of one of the greatest monarchs the world has ever known. Before it a neat black tablet, with gold lettering, gives a translation of the injunction regarding the placing on the breast of the first-born the device known as the Mark of the Asps, together with a statement as to its date. Many, perhaps, have seen it during the past twelve months, but none know its real history, which I have here written for the first time. After reading this record they may possibly linger before the case containing it a trifle longer, and reflect upon the curious chain of incidents which caused the ragged, wandering Dervish, who carried it forgotten in his charm-case, to become ruler of a land the existence of which was hitherto unknown, and to secure as wife the sweetest woman his eyes had ever beheld.

With Azala as my wife, mine is a life of happiness unalloyed. Of a verity ours is a rose-garden of peace. The only murmur of discontent ever heard within our kingdom is because the shaft of white brilliance no longer shines to remind the vanquished of the cruel but beautiful queen they idolised as Goddess of Love, and to give them promise of freedom from the Moslem yoke. But the light that had shone on uninterruptedly through forty centuries has never burned since that memorable night when I quenched it, and never will again.

Its extinguishment was emblematic of my complete conquest of the Land of the No Return. I have closed for all time the ever-vigilant Eye of Istar.

The End.