The Men of Nimrod celebrated their triumph over Akkad throughout the long night, sparing neither wine nor dance, nor the excesses of their revelry. The breaking of the encampment had been decreed for the hour before dawn; yet the king, who abstained from indulgences he deemed fit only for lesser men, had risen while darkness still held dominion. It was his custom to awaken thus, that he might, in solitude, rehearse within his mind the stratagems to be employed in the next assault upon the city of the sons of Shem.
Yet even as he disciplined his thoughts toward war, there stirred within his exultant heart a more tender longing: to strike the camp, to take to the wings of the wind, and hasten back to Babylon, there to lay before the queen the fruits of his conquest, and thereafter press on to the final stage of his grand design.
Alone within his tent, he clad himself in garments such as he had long favored in the hunt. He, who had ever bound his shoulders with the mantle of a leopard's skin, now, departing from custom, for the first time arrayed himself in the fleece of a spotless lamb. Over this he set a cuirass of pure gold, which covered the vast breadth of his upper frame. Then he took into his hands his helm, adorned with great horns of the bull, and gazed upon his broad and mighty chest as it was reflected in the polished copper mirror before him.
Thereafter he seized his bow and bent it, even as he was wont to do in the great hunts of former days. He seemed well pleased with what he beheld; yet soon he raised his hand to the shoulder where once the son of Salah had wounded him—and found that the injury had vanished utterly, leaving no scar behind.
At this, a dark smile came upon his lips. And he remembered a prophecy once spoken to him in his youth, when he had not yet dreamed of dominion over kingdoms.
"Behold, here stands he who shall conquer the world!"
Thus had cried the blind seeress, who divined in the Egyptian fair of Thebes, when he had come there in the company of his father. At the time, he had reckoned her no more than a wretched charlatan, vomiting flattery in the hope of winning his attention—and perhaps a few coins of gold besides.
Well schooled against deceitful tongues, and mindful of the cunning arts of the traders of Thebes, the boy had ignored her as best he could. Yet as his father tarried in the city, and he was compelled each day to pass through the marketplace, he was forced to hear her repeated utterances. At length, curiosity overcame him.
He paused before the old woman, who sat in the dust of the ground, her sightless eyes fixed upon the void. And in a tone of challenge he spoke:
"Behold, I set before thee a riddle. Answer me well, and thou shalt earn a measure of my attention."
The seeress laughed softly, with a strange delight.
"By the gods, young prince, ask what thou wilt, and I shall answer; for so has Hermes commanded me."
"So be it, then," said he. "Tell me this: what wondrous thing is signified by a silver serpent coiling about the crescent moon?"
Without altering the worn lines of her age-marked face, the oracle replied:
"It is a simple matter, dear boy. Here in Egypt all know that the serpent is that which brings chaos upon the world, and the crescent moon the sign of life renewed. What riddle lies therein?"
Nimrod laughed, pleased at the snare he had set.
"Thou wouldst have known it, hadst thou been a true seeress. In one thing thou art right, however—for there is no riddle in my words. The symbol of which I spoke is but a figment of mine own devising. I spoke only to test thee."
But the old woman answered him with grave composure:
"Nay, my lord. Thou couldst not have invented this sign, for it is well known among the Egyptians—though it be true that few have ever beheld it."
"If they see it not, then it does not exist," he retorted.
"Not so. The symbol is real. It is graven upon the stele of Ra, and only the high priest may look upon it."
"And how comes it to be known throughout Egypt, if none may see nor touch it?"
At this, the seeress turned her head slowly to one side and then the other, as though her blind eyes sought some unseen presence. Then she spoke:
"Go forth into the street and ask any boy of thine own years, and he will tell thee the tale of the sacred symbol of Ra. For it is the object of every young noble's desire. Each year, seven among them—the finest of their kind—enter upon a deadly venture, seeking to claim it."
"And why should I be concerned with such a thing?" he asked.
"Thou art not concerned," she said softly. "Yet if thou hast spoken of it, it is because Hermes has stirred thy heart toward a great secret."
"What secret?"
"That which speaks of the end of the world—and of the coming of Sethosis, a warrior who shall arise from the East and avert the final ruin. The prophet Zoroaster names him Sosioshe, and declares that he shall slay the serpent of evil and establish a reign of peace and prosperity among men for a thousand years."
But Nimrod mocked her words.
"Dost thou believe such folly? If even the immortal gods cannot endure a thousand years in mortal flesh, how should men achieve it?"
Yet the old woman did not falter.
"Thou speakest truly, my lord. We cannot. But when Sethosis comes, it shall be made possible—for he himself shall grant us to drink of the fountain of eternal life."
Nimrod grew incensed.
"What madness is this? Salvation and immortality belong to the gods alone!"
With that, he turned from her in disdain and made as if to depart. But she called after him:
"There is yet one thing my lord must know…"
Though he had not meant to, he halted, and glanced back. Sensing his rekindled curiosity, she continued:
"He who possesses the sacred symbol of Ra shall receive from the gods the gift of immortality among men—and shall be chosen to inaugurate the reign of peace upon the earth."
Now less dismissive, Nimrod pressed her further:
"Is this the cause that each year seven youths of Thebes yield their lives to death? Do they truly pursue a mere symbol? What power lies within the jewel of Ra?"
Seeing that he was ensnared, the old woman spoke more fully:
"My lord is touched by Hermes and has already discerned much. The symbol itself holds little worth. Its true power lies within the one who claims it—for only the chosen of the gods is worthy of the jewel. Our youths undertake the venture because the prize is equal to the peril."
"And what perils are these," he demanded, "that the young men of Thebes must face?"
"It is a journey, my lord—a path from which no mortal has ever returned."
"And what becomes of them?"
"They die. One by one. The road is not long, yet along it lie trials that test even the finest warriors, sons of Egypt's nobility. Since the games were first ordained, none has completed the journey, though it should not exceed three days and three nights."
Nimrod pondered long.
"And if none succeed, is it because none among them is chosen?"
The woman lowered her voice to a whisper:
"So they would have us believe. But the truth is that…"
She broke off, turning her head again in unease. Nimrod perceived her fear.
"Be at peace—there is none here to overhear us."
Yet she answered hesitantly:
"Perhaps, my prince. And yet I feel we are watched…"
"And why should we be?"
"I cannot say. Perhaps it is but a foolish fear. Yet as I was saying: that our youths fail, year after year, does not mean that none is chosen—but rather that they are rejected… and slain."
At the mere suggestion of conspiracy, the young Nimrod's interest deepened greatly.
"Then thou wouldst imply," said he, "that these youths are not merely cast into peril by chance—but are delivered to death by design?"