THE GREAT KING IS ANGRY
At the approach of Bessus the great bronze gates in the palace wall
swung wide, and he rode through them, followed by his Bactrians.
Nathan halted at the entrance, which he found in charge of a guard of
his own race. The gray-haired captain in command rushed forward with a
cry of joy.
"Where hast thou been?" he cried, embracing Nathan as he dismounted.
"Art thou sound and whole?"
"Nearly so," Nathan replied, showing the cut on his thigh, which
fortunately was not deep and had ceased to bleed. "How is it with
Israel?"
They walked apart, talking in low tones. The Arabs and the two
prisoners threw themselves on the turf inside the gate and waited.
Through the swaying branches of the trees they could catch glimpses of
the massive walls of many buildings standing in stately magnificence
amid the verdure. At a distance, above roof and tree-top, rose the
famous Hanging Gardens of the Great King, built in terraces, gay with
wonderful flowers and strange plants brought from the ends of the
world. Crystal streams flashed in waterfalls from the summit,
following winding artificial channels, beside which stood statues of
marble.
The two Greeks noticed that Nathan and the captain glanced at them from
time to time as they talked, and they felt that they were the subjects
of the conference. Finally Nathan came toward them, bringing the
captain with him.
"This is Ezra," he said. "He knows what I know. Obey him in all
things. When the time comes, I shall be near; but now I must leave
you."
He offered his hand and the two Greeks shook it warmly. Then with a
word to his Arabs, who followed him with their horses, he led the way
down a side path and vanished in the thickets.
"Where is he going?" Clearchus asked.
"To the barracks," Ezra replied. "Darius keeps a guard here of ten
thousand men, who are known as the Immortals, because their ranks are
always full."
"The palace is almost a city," Clearchus said, looking about him with
curiosity. "We have many cities at home that are smaller."
"It has need to be," Ezra replied. "The Great King usually has fifteen
thousand guests at his table, and the number now is greater because he
is preparing for war."
"Will he really take the field, then?" Chares asked.
"He is mustering his army," the captain answered, "and he will lead it
to battle. The result is in the hands of God."
"I could tell thee, Jew, what the result will be," Chares said dryly.
"By Dionysus, what a place to plunder! Where are you going to take us?"
"I shall deliver you to Boupares, governor of the palace, who has
charge of the prisoners and of the hostages," Ezra said. "So long as
you make no attempt to escape, you will have a considerable amount of
freedom. There are some of our people among the guards, and one
especially named Joel, who will tell you of what is being done. Of
yourselves you can accomplish nothing; but we can do much. You are to
leave everything to us. Joel you may trust, but it will be your part
to wait in patience."
"When shall we be summoned before the king?" Clearchus asked.
"Perhaps to-morrow, perhaps a month from now, and possibly not at all,"
Ezra replied. "It is never known in advance what he will do."
So the two friends passed into their captivity in the palace of Darius.
As Ezra had said, their confinement did not prove a hardship to them.
They were placed with hundreds of others in a remote wing near the
river wall. They had baths, a large court for games and exercise, and
abundance of slaves to provide for their wants. The Israelites among
their guards supplied them privately with the news of the court. The
winter months passed pleasantly enough, considering their situation.
Clearchus, whose mind was filled with doubt concerning the fate of
Artemisia, had his days of gloom and despair; but there was nothing to
be done, and the light-hearted resignation of Chares saved him from
utter despondency.
Of the numerous company held by Boupares to await the pleasure of the
Great King, many knew not why they had been brought thither. Some of
them had been there for years. Others received the royal summons on
the morrow of their arrival and did not return. There were princes
from the distant East, who had been suspected of a desire to throw off
the Persian yoke; there were adventurers from Athens, merchants from
Sicily, dusky chieftains from the sources of the Nile--a strange
mixture of tongues and races, in, which every part of the huge,
unwieldy empire was represented.
"I feel as though we were in the cave of Polyphemus," Clearchus said.
"Who can tell whose turn will come next?"
"At any rate, the king is not a Cyclops--he cannot eat us," Chares
replied. "Here comes Joel; now we shall get the latest news."
The young man approached them with the affectation of carelessness that
it was necessary to assume to disarm suspicion. The palace swarmed
with the Eyes and Ears of the king, spies and informers whose identity
was unknown even to the most trusted of the courtiers. He must be
cunning indeed who could frame and bring to fruition a plot that could
escape their observation. A word from one of them, even though founded
upon suspicion, often brought death.
"Well?" Chares said, when Joel reached at last the spot where they were
standing, out of hearing of the others. "Repeat for us the murmurs of
this whispering gallery."
"It is in fact a gallery in which every whisper is heard," the Hebrew
said, smiling. "But there is great news to-day; Pharnaces has been
condemned to death, and all his family must die with him."
"What has he done?" Clearchus asked. "Is he not one of the most
powerful of the nobles and a favorite with the king?"
"Yes," Joel replied, "and why the sentence was passed no one knows
excepting the king himself."
"But will he have no trial?" Clearchus persisted. "Will they not tell
him what charge is laid against him?"
Joel shrugged his shoulders. "The sentence has been passed," he said,
"and not even the Great King, who made it, can change it now. We have
been trying to discover what the accusation was. Pharnaces wanted to
be viceroy of Bactria, and he had been gathering evidence with which to
destroy Bessus. It must be that Bessus managed to reach the king
first; but what means he had of accomplishing this, we do not know.
Perhaps he bribed one of the king's Eyes. It must have cost him
something, but Bessus could do it if any one. If he did not work
through the spies, he may have persuaded the Magi to discover some
treason in the stars and then to accuse Pharnaces. Bessus is on good
terms with the Medean priests, for he lets them do what they like in
his province."
"This Bessus must be a dangerous man," Clearchus said.
"Only because he has force and daring," Joel replied. "He does what
every other man would like to do. There is not a satrap or viceroy in
the empire who does not desire his neighbor's ruin. It has been worse
since these fire-worshipping priests began to get back into favor
again. Our wise men say that it was an evil day for the kings of this
land when they allowed these men to wean their minds from Ormazd and
set up their idols in Babylon. But now there is no God too false to
obtain worship here. Even Baal and Astarte have their temples, and
they are beginning to bring in the Egyptian brood of deities. The cup
is filling fast, and they must drink it when Jehovah wills."
The young man's voice sank to a tone of awe as he pronounced the
dreadful name, and he glanced about him as though he half expected a
thunderbolt to fall. It did not escape the Athenian perception of
Clearchus that the Jew seemed to regard the terrible presence as real
and actual. His earnestness formed a striking contrast with his usual
affectation of the easy and cynical manner of the court.
"We laugh and jest here in the palace," he went on, "but each man's
hand is against his neighbor. Faith and honor are lost. Servants
betray their masters and sons lead their parents to death. What knows
the Great King of all this? He lives behind a screen, where thieves
and rascals make him their tool. These plotters play upon him as they
do upon Sisygambis, the queen mother, who has almost as much power as
her son; or upon Statira, his queen, the most beautiful of women. The
gynæceum is a nest of intrigues. His stewards and keepers and
cup-bearers have each their price, and they do not scruple to take it.
A whisper or a look may send a man to his death. Give me a chance with
a sword in my hand and let me see the man who strikes me! I hate this
treacherous game in the dark!"
"Well spoken, my lad!" Chares said. "But what about this queen,
Statira--is she so very beautiful?"
"They say she is the fairest woman in the world," Joel answered, "and
that the Great King is the handsomest of men. I have never seen her,
or I would not be here now. It is death to look upon the face of one
of the king's women, even by accident."
"They seem to be very particular!" Chares grumbled.
"I dare say they have their reasons," Joel said. "But I have not told
you all the news. The king has had a dream, and he believes that the
Gods have promised him the victory over Alexander. The Chaldeans have
told him so."
"What was the dream?" Clearchus asked uneasily.
"It was proclaimed this morning," Joel said. "Darius dreamed that when
he had come within sight of the Macedonians, their army suddenly burst
into flame and all the troops were consumed, so that nothing but their
ashes remained where they had been. And then he thought he saw
Alexander, dressed like one of the lords of the household, standing
ready to serve him. But when he went into the Temple of Baal,
Alexander vanished utterly and was seen no more. From this the learned
men of the Chaldeans say that Baal will give the battle to Darius and
will remove Alexander from his way. So the king has ordered sacrifices
to Baal and has promised him a great temple of stone after the victory."
Clearchus looked troubled, and even Chares shook his head.
"Wait," Joel went on eagerly, noticing their concern. "I have told you
the interpretation of the Chaldeans. Our wise men have also considered
the dream, and they read it differently. They say that the army on
fire means that the Macedonians shall win great glory, and that the
appearance of Alexander as a lord of the household, in the same dress
that Darius wore before he became king, signifies that he will gain
victories, as Darius did. This is the interpretation of the priests of
our race, to whom are revealed the things that are to be."
"I know not which is right," Clearchus said, "but I wish Aristander was
here."
"Nathan bade me tell you to have no fear," Joel said confidently. "He
also wished me to tell you that Phradates the Tyrian has come to court."
"Phradates here!" Chares exclaimed. "Why did you not say so before?
There will be trouble for us."
"Nathan talked with the Ph[oe]nician and learned much," Joel continued.
"Halicarnassus has fallen and Memnon is dead. Phradates is seeking
command of the fleet for Azemilcus, the Tyrian king."
"Did Nathan say nothing of Artemisia and Thais?" Clearchus inquired, in
a trembling voice.
"Oh, yes," said Joel, "I had forgotten. He told me to say that
Phradates had carried them by force to Tyre in his galley after the
fall of Halicarnassus and that he is in love with Thais. This he
learned from one of our people who was with the Tyrian; and he learned
further that as yet no harm has befallen the young women."
"We must go!" Clearchus exclaimed. "Tell Nathan so at once. Tell him
that if he cannot release us, we will release ourselves. We must be on
our way to Tyre to-morrow."
"Quietly," Chares said, placing his hand on his friend's shoulder.
"Not so loud. You forget!"
"Did you not hear what he said?" Clearchus demanded impatiently.
"Artemisia is in Tyre and in the power of Phradates!"
"So is Thais, and she is in the greater danger," Chares said, "if what
Joel tells us is true; but we shall never see either of them again
unless we are discreet."
There was a stir in the great hall of the building as the inmates
gathered from the various smaller apartments. "The king has sent a
summons!" Joel said, hastening away.
"Do not forget my message," Clearchus insisted.
"I will deliver it," Joel responded over his shoulder.
Chares and Clearchus joined the main body of prisoners, who were
assembled in the hall. They found there Boupares himself, with scribes
bearing the register of the inmates of the place. The governor
scrutinized the lists with care, selecting from among them the names of
prisoners, who were called by a crier. Each man, as he heard his name,
stepped forward to await the directions of Boupares.
"Amyntas of Macedon!" shouted the crier, and a small, thin man with a
sallow face stood out from the rest.
"Charidemus of Corinth!" the crier called.
"They are asking only for the Greeks," remarked a tall Assyrian.
"Maybe our turn has come," Clearchus said.
"Clearchus of Athens!" the crier shouted. "Chares of Thebes!"
The two young men advanced and joined the waiting group.
"That is all," Boupares said, handing the lists to the scribes.
"Follow me to the audience chamber."
Through the long, pillared courts and vast halls of the palace he
conducted the prisoners. On every side were evidences of the
expenditure of limitless wealth and measureless labor. Row after row
of polished columns sprang a hundred feet to the echoing roof. Great
sculptures adorned the walls. The floors were inlaid with mosaics of
variegated pattern. Thousands of attendants came and went among the
crowds of courtiers.
At last they arrived at the audience chamber and were admitted. Here
the talk and laughter ceased and voices sank to a whisper. They were
in the presence of the Great King, the most powerful and absolute of
all monarchs. The walls of the lofty apartment were covered with
plates of gold for half their height, and above these were paintings in
which the king was depicted slaying lions in hand-to-hand combat, or
driving his enemies before him in his war chariot. Between the pillars
hung rich curtains of crimson, green, and violet, and the floor was
hidden beneath silken carpets.
At the end of the room, under a purple canopy, stood a throne of gold
and ivory, inlaid with precious stones. The perfume of myrrh and
frankincense filled the air.
Standing before the throne, from which he had just arisen, the Greeks
beheld Darius, the last of the Archæmenian kings. His tall, well-built
figure was clad in a long Medean robe of rich silk, purple, embroidered
with gold, and confined at the waist by a broad girdle of gold, from
which hung his dagger in its sheath of lapis lazuli. His feet were
shod in yellow shoes with long points. On his head he wore the
citaris, which he alone might wear, with the royal diadem of blue and
white. Jewels flashed in his ears, and about his neck hung a heavy
collar of great rubies and pearls.
Never, Clearchus thought, had he seen a face more handsome and haughty
than that of Darius, as he stood before his throne, with his blue eyes
and light brown beard, carefully trimmed. He looked like what he
was--the master of the world. His expression, although full of
dignity, was slightly weary as he listened to the petition of a man who
knelt before him, with bowed head, in the attitude of a suppliant.
With a scarcely perceptible movement of his hand, the king dismissed
the petitioner, who rose to his feet and walked backward, with his head
still bowed, to a group of officials who stood at one side of the
apartment. Chares gripped Clearchus by the arm.
"It is Phradates!" he said.
It was indeed the Ph[oe]nician, who had doubtless been pressing the
suit of Azemilcus for command of the Ægean fleet. His proud face was
humbled, and drops of perspiration stood on his forehead. The king
turned his eyes slowly to the Greeks and made a sign to Boupares to
advance. The nobles who were ranged on either side of the throne, the
king's fan and cup bearers, his generals and the master of his
household, remained with stolid faces.
Boupares prostrated himself before the throne, kissing the floor.
"Are these the Greeks for whom I sent thee?" the king asked
indifferently.
"They are, my lord," Boupares replied.
"Let them come near," Darius said.
Some of the prisoners prostrated themselves before the king as they had
seen Boupares do. Others remained standing, and among these were
Clearchus and Chares. Darius looked at them, and a slight frown
appeared upon his brow.
"Who are they?" he asked, turning to Boupares.
The governor designated each of the captives by name, adding a few
particulars by way of identification.
"Clearchus, an Athenian, and Chares, a Theban," he said. "They have
served in the army of the Macedonian, and they were sent to the king
from Halicarnassus by Memnon."
"Why have they been permitted to live?" Darius demanded, his face
darkening at the name of the lost city.
"Because Memnon believed they could give the king information,"
Boupares answered humbly, "and when captured they had left the army of
Alexander."
"What manner of man is this Alexander?" Darius asked, turning his face
to the Greeks.
"He is a king," Chares answered quietly.
"How can he hope to meet me, with his handful of men?" Darius asked
again.
"He remembers Cyrus, thy ancestor," Chares replied boldly.
These answers made an evident impression on Darius, whose face lost its
listless expression. Many questions he put to the Greeks, who made no
attempt to conceal anything from him, knowing that others could give
him the information that he desired if they refused, and that refusal
would mean immediate death. Finally the king could think of nothing
more to ask.
"I am about to march against thy Alexander," he said. "Who will win
the victory?"
"Victory is the gift of the Gods, O king," Clearchus said quickly.
"Dost thou wish flattery, or a frank reply, without concealment?"
"Speak freely," Darius said, raising his head in pride.
"Then, unless thou canst make thy army equal to his in discipline and
spirit, thy numbers will not avail," the Athenian said.
Darius' face flushed, and a murmur of protest rose from the watchful
courtiers.
"Is that thy opinion, too?" the king asked, turning to Chares.
"The ocean himself must break upon the rock," the Theban said.
"And thine?" the king continued, addressing Charidemus, the Corinthian.
"It is, O king," Charidemus replied.
Phradates had been watching the face of Darius. He had recognized his
enemies as soon as they entered the audience chamber and had resolved
to deal them a blow if the chance presented itself. When he saw the
frown on the brow of the king and caught the gleam of anger in his eye,
he believed he might safely act. He stepped forward and again
prostrated himself at the steps of the throne.
"Speak!" said Darius, looking down upon him.
"My lord, I know these men for spies," he said. "I was in
Halicarnassus when they were captured just before I received the wound
that so nearly cost me my life. Memnon, for reasons that I do not
presume to guess, wished to save them. They mock at thee and seek to
create doubt of the promise that the Gods have given thee by spreading
fear of the result among thy men. Every Greek well knows that
Alexander cannot stand against thee and that he will never dare to meet
thee in battle."
Phradates had cunningly formed his speech so as to assign a motive to
the adverse predictions of the Greeks which would save the pride of the
king, and yet, if he accepted it, would leave only one course open to
him. Darius did not hesitate.
"They are spies!" he said angrily to Boupares. "Why did you bring them
to me? Take them away and let them be questioned under the torture.
Perhaps then they will tell the truth."
Darius turned, and Phradates shot a look of triumph at the two friends.
Chares shook off the hand of the guard and was about to speak when
Clearchus checked him.
"Silence," he whispered earnestly, "or we shall both be killed at once!"
Chares controlled himself with an effort, and the guards, under the
direction of the crestfallen Boupares, led them away. Instead of
conducting them to their former quarters, Boupares ordered that they be
confined in the dungeons that lay beyond. These were built in a
structure of massive masonry and consisted of cells with heavily barred
doors at which sentries were stationed. Into one of the darkest of the
cells they were thrust, and the grating was bolted behind them.