CHAPTER XVIII.
THE JOURNEY TO THE BORMIDOPHIA.
The palace bell announced the beginning of a new day in Calnogor. Ihad not slept during the hours of rest, excited as I was by our visitto Gnaphisthasia and the strange customs of Atvatabar.
Koshnili arrived soon after the bell had sounded to inform me that theking had commanded his royal army to be assembled in the great squarebeyond the palace walls to escort us to the Bormidophia, where asolemn act of worship would be performed before the throne of thegods. This was a most delightful message, as nothing on earth couldplease me better than to witness the glories of the Bormidophia.
The army under the command of Prince Coltonobory, the brother of theking, commander-in-chief, consisted of 250,000 wayleals, or flyingsoldiers, and 50,000 bockhockids, or flying cavalry. There was also adetachment of 10,000 fletyemings, or sailors of the royal navy. Thesewere drawn up in review in a vast square before the royal palace.
Superb bockhockids conveyed us the four miles to the Bormidophia inthe centre of the city.
The king and queen, both of whom wore crowns blazing with jewels, satwith Koshnili and myself in the first palanquin of bockhockids. Thehigh officers of the government and nobles of the Borodemy, togetherwith the officers and sailors of the _Polar King_, were distributedamong the other stately litters.
The route to the pantheon was lined with palaces. An immensepopulation thronged either side of the roadway. A review of the armytook place _en route_. The wayleals first rose into an enormousflying column, which subsided into whirling domes and afterward brokeup into a dozen living globes, that appeared to roll one after anotheron the ground. These were dissolved into a solid army marching on footfor a time. Then as if by magic the entire mass of men rose intospiral columns which dissolved into vast rings inextricably involvedwith each other. It was a sight unique and bewildering.
Behind the wayleals, fifty thousand bockhockids kept up their steadymarch. The people shouted with enthusiasm.
A mimic battle took place in the air above us. Ten thousand waylealsfought on either side, brilliant in many-colored uniforms. Finally, arainbow arch of flying men spanned the entrance to the great square ofthe Bormidophia, or pantheon. Amid the thunder of guns and music, theentire company alighted at the doors of the pantheon, which consistedof an immense circular pile of buildings over a mile in circumference.The interior revealed a scene of surpassing magnificence. Endlesstiers of seats were arranged in terraces that, rising above eachother, traversed the wide sweep of the amphitheatre. The entirepantheon with its adjacent palaces and colonnades was sculptured outof a hill of green marble. The exterior walls, rising 200 feet, werecrowned with a lofty dome of enamelled glass, through which the lightof the sun streamed in myriad colors on the sea of worshippersbeneath. The walls of the pantheon, both exteriorly and interiorly,were sculptured with immense reliefs, the trophies of invention andart, as well as the magical symbols of spiritual forces.
The lowest circle of the amphitheatre reached down one hundred feetbelow the level of the outer pavement, and the royal seat was on alevel with the ground and fifty feet below the top of the far-famedgolden throne of the gods, that stood in the centre of the immensebuilding.
Our entrance was the signal for welcoming music and a suppressedmurmur of excitement from the myriads of worshippers that sat bothabove and below us. The amphitheatre contained not less than 50,000people. The moment their majesties were seated, a roar of artilleryshook the earth. The forthcoming grand act of worship was evidentlyinstituted in our honor, for we were the observed of all eyes in thatvast concourse of people.
A dozen choirs, possessed of all kinds of beautiful instruments,caressed the ear with their melodious songs. There was no dimreligious light; everything was open-eyed beneath that splendid dome.Suddenly a cloud of flying priests and priestesses seated themselveson a pyramid formed of terraces of solid silver fifty feet in heightthat supported the miraculous throne. They at once began to sing withsuch force and pathos as to dissolve the multitude into a hush ofbreathless silence.
Then an immense bell of bronze filled the pantheon with a sonorousmoan. Twelve thrilling tones made souls tremble and heads bow down.With the last vibration there rose from the crown of the throne of thegods a living woman, nude to the waist, having a broad belt of goldstudded with gems clasping her figure, from which fell to her feet agarment of aquelium lace wrought with magical symbols.
She was a girl of peerless development; her arms were long and softlymoulded, her breasts firm and splendid. The color of her complexionand flesh was of soft mat gold, like that of golden fruit, and aperceptible flush warmed her cheeks. Her profile was perfect, beingboth proud and tender in outline. Her hair was a heavy glossy mass, ofa pale sapphire-blue color, that fell in a waving cloud around hershoulders. Her whole figure bore an infinitely gracious expression,the result of possessing a tender and sympathetic soul.
On her head was a tiara of terrelium, the vermilion metal, studdedwith gems, on her neck she wore a necklace of emerald-green sapphires,while on either wrist were broad gold bracelets, having a magnificentblue sapphire on each.
She was Lyone, the Supreme Goddess of Atvatabar, the representative ofHarikar, the Holy Soul; Queen of Magicians; Mother of Sorcerers, andPrincess of Arjeels.
Standing erect for a moment, as if to assure the vast congregation ofher presence, she then slowly sat down on a broad divan of aloe-greensilk velvet, holding in her right hand the terrelium sceptre ofspiritual sovereignty, whose head bore two hearts formed of flamingrubies.
I was entranced with the appearance of the divine girl, the object ofthe adoration of Atvatabar. Every feature of her face was carved witha full and ripe roundness, exhibiting repose and power. Her eyes,large and blue and lustrous, were sorcery itself. There was in them anunutterable tenderness, a divine hospitality, the result of vast prideand still vaster sympathy.
ON THE THRONE SAT THE SUPREME GODDESS, LYONE, THEREPRESENTATIVE OF HARIKAR, THE HOLY SOUL.]
All at once she gazed at me! I felt filled with a fever of deliciousdelight, of intoxicating adoration. I could then understand thedevotion of Atvatabar, of hearts slain by eyes that were conqueringswords.
The Goddess of Atvatabar Page 21