"My lord, I do perceive no tree in sight, yet, haply, further on--"
Then a roar of laughter burst from every rank, and even as it broke, so yearned these men to break from their ordered lines, to hoist a war-queen up and bear her on their harnessed backs, to shout her praise aloud.
So Menon ceased to frown, for how could he hold his anger at a conqueror of enemies and friends? Had she not saved his army and his very life itself? What now! So he took her to his heart, though his heart was sad. In a little space the tidings would leak abroad concerning this warrior queen who was his wife, and because of love his soul grew dark within him and was afraid.
On the homeward march Semiramis sought by many an art and wile to chase away his gloom, but ever he would sigh and shake his head.
"Ah, love," he murmured, "now have we cut a link from out our chain of happiness, for when my master learneth of this thing--"
"_Poof!_" she laughed. "'Twas worth a link or two of love; and even though King Ninus naileth me against his wall, still will I have thundered down that slope and tasted once of the wine of war. Smile, Menon mine!"
And Menon smiled--in that she bade him smile.
The army marched swiftly back to Azapah, for the place was sore in need of the Governor's fist. In his absence the people, growing bold, had stoned his agents, slaying many in their hatred toward Assyria's King. So Menon straightway rode from tribe to tribe, advising patience until Nineveh was builded, when peace and plenty would once more lay upon the land. Where wisdom and cunning failed to pacify, there Menon employed a rod of force, even as Ninus held the growling hordes of Egypt beneath his thumb. The King had grown vexed at reports from Karnak that the children of the Nile were chafing beneath their yoke, so he sent swift messengers, saying that upon the day when Egypt flew to arms, that day would he crucify their Prince Memetis on the walls of Nineveh. And Egypt ceased to growl.
In all his dealings with the tribes of Syria, Menon soon learned that the wit of Semiramis was sharper than his own. When his strings of policy grew twisted into knotted snarls, she would lay her fingers on the hidden ends, pull deftly, and the skein was free again. Thus, more and more, the Governor leaned upon the shoulder of his wife's advice, till there came a time when, stricken by a fever, he gave the rule of Syria into her hands.