Page 120 - The Prophet-statesman a Drama of Daniel

CHAPTER XXVII

BELSHAZZAR’S FEAST

The morning was but half gone, the following day, when Queen-Mother Rhea
became conscious, even in the seclusion of her palatial apartment, of a chorus of
shouting throughout the city and noisy drum-beating and celebration. She opened her
window and listened as the sounds increased in volume. They were obviously cries

jubilation and not of fear. Just as her curiosity had been aroused as to the cause of it,
her daughter, the reigning Queen Hanniel, entered her apartment.

“Have you heard the news, Mother?” Queen Hanniel asked.

“No, but I hear the noise of jubilation and am anxious to know its cause,” her
mother replied.
“The Medo-Persian army has given up the siege. They have broken camp, folded
their tents and many of their columns have marched off, and by the looks of it, the rest

will soon follow. They have finally learned after their two-year siege, that Babylon is
impregnable either from attack or starvation. King Belshazzar, my son, has already
issued invitations to over a thousand of the lords and ladies of the court to attend a
gigantic feast here at the palace this very night, in celebration of our victory. He has

also declared a holiday and bidden the populace make this a day of celebration and
rejoicing.”

The dowager queen, now more than eighty, still retained vestiges of the beauty of

her youth, though her face was furrowed with wrinkles and she was considerably
overweight. Her eyes were still bright, her mind alert, and her presence dignified and
impressive. On hearing the news that Hanniel brought, she sat down in a great chair
and a look of sober thoughtfulness overspread her countenance. There was no trace of

jubilation.

“You do not seem happy about it. Mother!” Queen Hanniel remarked as she noted

her mother’s expression.
“I have fears, grave fears, that all this is not just as it seems. The jubilation and
celebrations may prove premature. I doubt that either your father, Nebuchadnezzar, or
your husband Nabunaid, or his father, the late, esteemed Nebuzaradan, would take too
much for granted from this ostentatious retreat of the Medo-Persian armies. All of

them were experienced soldiers and versed in the tricks of warfare. Your son, King
Belshazzar is a creature of the palace, adept in court-craft, but no soldier. While his