Buch lesen: «The Golden Hope: A Story of the Time of King Alexander the Great», Seite 15

CHAPTER XXVI
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 Phœnician 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 Phœnician, 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.